Vincent Evan Pane

This is a lament for Vince that I wrote after we all hung out together at the Pane's house following the devastating news of our beautiful Vince's passing. I sang this song at the celebration of Vince's life in Longmont...I love you so much Vince. You are like one of my children. I will miss you forever.

We took a vacation on labor day weekend
to visit old friends, and cry in their arms
It would have been perfect, if you had been here
'cause the rest of the boys were there.

We took a vacation on Labor Day weekend
to bury our brother, to bury our child
Your beautiful soul left your beautiful body
now the universe holds all your light.

Now our days are so dark without you,
'cause you are the brightest star
You were larger than life, and your light shined so bright
Oh God, I wish you were here.

We gathered our circle together once more,
but you should have been here too
We took a vacation on Labor day weekend
to say goodbye to you.

I met Vince when I first moved down the street in Longmont for middle school. I befriended Lydia, his little sister, and always saw her walk home from the bus with a guy who looked exactly like the dude version of her, who I could only assume was one of her big brothers.

The more I hung out with Lyd and became a part time occupant of the Pane home, the more I got to know Vince. He was the weird older brother but in a cool way — always down to help us with our math and science homework, making his own clothes (shoe socks, anyone?), and carving something. He would lightly roast us for our choice in movies, but watch them with us and engage in real conversations about life anyway. I remember walking down the street and turning my head to see Vince going full speed down the Longs Peak hill on rollerblades and thinking he was pretty rad.

As we got older, Vince never tried to push Lyd away as older brothers sometimes do when they’re in high school. In fact, Vince and his best friend Ian were omnipresent at our friend gatherings from high school on. We would run around the golf course together, pretend we were in middle school to get into the pool for a buck less (which was wild because Vince had a full mustache from a young age), climb onto roofs, practice gymnastics. As we got older, we would go to bonfires, run around Estes Park when we were at the cabin, help us surprise our friends on their birthdays with “special guest appearances.”

The last big trip I took with Vince was over the pandemic while I was living in Colorado. Vince, Lyd, my sister Livi and I had a socially distant siblings backpacking trip. Livi had never been backpacking before, but we had spent the pandemic hiking and decided she would be ready to roll on whatever route we picked. Without thinking, I agreed to let Lyd and Vince pick the route and pack the food — they told us we just needed to show up.

And show up we did — to Mount of the Holy Cross — a “very strenuous” 14er with the most elevation gain I’ve ever climbed. I remember Livi and I crawling to the summit, taking hours longer than expected, but looked ahead and somehow saw Lyd and Vince sprinting to the top and even sharing their water with a stranger who ran out. After hiking for over 10 hours, we finally made it back to camp and I asked what was for dinner. Vince pulled out two cans of chickpeas and a bag of minced garlic and spices, and said “here it is!” Famished, I asked where the rest of it was, and he just cracked up because that was, of course, all he had brought for four people to eat.

That night, Lyd, Livi, and I hung our hammocks in an Aspen grove. We had forgotten our fourth hammock, but instead of sleeping in our backup tent, Vince opted to sleep on the ground next to Livi because she was scared for her first night of sleeping under the stars. He did the same thing the next night on a rock next to Lyd and Livi’s hammocks too, wanting to make sure he was close enough to protect all of us from whatever lurked in the wilderness.

Vince, you are so deeply loved by everyone who knew you. May we all carry your memory and do something cool and a little bit weird for as long as we live.

RIP

I was Vince’s AP Biology teacher in high school. I have vivid memories of him and his buddies hanging out by their lockers outside my classroom, skateboards in hand, cracking jokes and adding leftover drinks to their homemade mysterious “Beetlejuice”. Vince had such a brilliant scientific mind and yet was incredibly talented as an artist. Vince complained about the homework I assigned each night as busywork, but he would dutifully complete it on time and then would set the curve on every exam. He kept insisting that college professors didn’t assign homework. The following year when he visited my AP classes to share about his college experiences, Vince sheepishly admitted that college professors DID assign homework. A couple years later, Vince returned to Longmont High again to give a lesson on astrobiology to my AP Bio students. It was insightful and interesting and I remember being so impressed with Vince’s maturity and growth during his time in college. While that was the last time I talked to Vince, my husband and I enjoyed watching him compete on ANW. We were rooting and cheering him on from his hometown!

Today was the day I heard about Vince’s passing. His art teacher told me about his death. To the Pane family — I offer my condolences and sympathy for your tremendous loss. The world will be less colorful and exciting without Vince’s presence. I wanted to share a photo that I took today just minutes before I heard about Vince’s passing. Outside of the art room is a display case featuring student artwork. Vince’s handcarved wooden sculpture of our mascot, Tommy Trojan, stands proudly in honor of a remarkable young man who loved life to the fullest.

Rest in peace, Vince.

My heart goes with Vincent and the family… Vincent is a truly helpful and warm hearted friend. I still remember the time we spent together when doing TA at Stanford. RIP, fancy and cool Vincent. 🙏

My first encounter with Vince was by name only, when the American Ninja Warrior producers assigned us to each other's sidelines during the 2021 qualifiers. The night before the competition, I was walking through the hotel lobby when he came over and asked "Are you Victor?" even though we had never met before. He had recognized my Berkeley shirt, and we had a good laugh over the producers pairing us up because we were both Bay Area grad students. His outgoing and friendly personality was so distinctive and immediately apparent through both his words and actions.

During the competition, I was nervous to the point of almost throwing up before my run, but Vince stepped in and began chatting with me to ease my mind. We discussed our respective academic lives, from research to school courses to finding ninja obstacles on campus. Every time I chatted with him after that, I discovered another of his passions. On the bus ride back to the hotel, he explained the romper he had sewn to represent Prison Renaissance. On our ride to the airport, he talked about his childhood and move to California. At his watch party, I was amazed by his art and dance videos, as well as the robe he created from his ANW towel. Vince never ran out of fascinating topics to discuss, and he was always a great friend to talk to: open, supportive, and an attentive listener. He left a positive and lasting impact on everyone around him, and his prolific and diverse accomplishments show us what it truly means to be a Renaissance Man.

I'm grateful to have connected with Vince through Ninja. I only wish I had more time, more pictures, more memories, but now he's free to light up the lives of those in his next life. Vince will always be the freest of spirits.

Vince had this ability to make you feel accepted the moment you met. I met him through Prison Renaissance in 2019, the fall of my freshman year. Going into the first meeting, I didn’t know what to expect of ~upperclassmen~ and was undoubtedly a bit intimidated. Yet here was this PhD student, so inviting and warm. And what always struck me is how over the next five years, he continued to text me invites to his events— it always touched me, made me feel included and thought of.
...like his thesis defense!!! What thesis feels like a party— a pink suit, people dressed up as wizards and the like, bingo cards, nitrogen icecream? He made life fun, and I felt lucky to be in his orbit.

Last spring, I saw him at our friend’s film screening (see photo). He asked me if I could help film his fast-approaching quest with some friends. When I learned it was to climb Hoover Tower and leave gigantic footprints walking down the side, I immediately felt so excited to be in on something so classified and playful. Vince, thank you from the bottom of my heart for being yourself. I remember something you told me about how important it is for you to feel connected to everything— the reason you made your own clothes. I remember you saying you were working on making your own shoes too. You are a constant reminder to me to seek connection— to nature, people, fun to be found and to be made.

Echoing everyone, the world has lost so much. But I am also confident his energy will continue to flow through all who knew him. <3

I met Vince through Stanford's Arts Intensive program. Though I didn't speak with him extensively, I remember him as friendly, passionate, and eager to share his love for art (woodworking, pole dancing, and circus performing). It was always fun following his American Ninja Warrior journey through Instagram and nice seeing him around at the gym.

Sending my condolences and prayers to Vince's family and loved ones. He spread positivity to many during his time at Stanford. His impact lives on!

You were an incredible guy to watch and I send love to your family R.I.P

Vince, I first met you and spent only 3 days in your company in August 2023, when we traveled with Brook Thompson to the Yurok Salmon Festival. I thoroughly enjoyed being in the presence of your gentle nature, creativity and pure sense of wonder for the luminous world. I will always remember how, during the in-between moments of the trip, you were hand sanding your exquisite, small wood carvings and patiently explained to me how they served your systematic investigation of topology. This was Curiosity + Beauty = Awe.

I wrote you a haiku to help me accept what happened and to send you energy in the couloir (literally means “passage: in French) for your continuation in the universe (see Thich Nhat Hahn’s book No Death, No Fear). Here it is:

Embraced by rock kin
couloir made sacred by your
continuation
~ ark ~

Vince was the kind of friend and adventure partner you spend your whole life dreaming of meeting.

We met at the movement climbing gym in Sunnyvale. He had been my chem TA freshman year, but we had never spoken until then. Our exchange at the gym was brief, but two weeks later he was joining me for an ambitious 7-peak technical climbing traverse in the palisades of the Sierra Nevada. I had optimistically planned the traverse would take us 14hours…well, 21 hours later we stumbled back into base camp with failing headlamps; it was 2am, we were hungry, dehydrated, and exhausted, but had forged a deep bond of trust and respect for each other.
Vince and I had a lot in common: we both lived out of our minivans, both did woodworking and sculpture, both committed athletes (me running and him ANW), both had a wide range of hobbies (I always learned something new whenever I was with him!), but most importantly we both had a silly sense of humor and a vibrant love for life and adventure. That’s what had gotten us through all of the unexpected challenges that day, and that’s what made all our future adventures so fun and memorable. No matter what we faced, Vince would never complain about the situation. He would always make a joke and we would laugh about the absurdity of our predicament and find a way. As I am writing this I realize I could probably write a short book about all our adventures. Long climbing and mountaineering trips, ocean kayak fishing, gathering wood to for future carvings at midnight, exploring caves or the coastline at low tide…Vince was always down. I once called him while he was in class to see if he wanted to go explore a cave in Santa Cruz and 15 minutes later he was there.

I always admired Vince tremendously for his spontaneity and enthusiasm. He was always trying new things and pursuing his interests passionately. He was the definition of authenticity. This memory board is a testament to the fact that he inspired and brightened the lives of everyone he interacted with. There will always be a hole in my heart now, but I am so grateful to have shared so many wonderful moments with him.
Much love to everyone,
Meika

I didn't know Vince super well. We are teammates on the climbing team, but we never said much more than "hi" hot each other until the 2023 team climbing trip to Las Vegas. Vince instantly made this one of my most memorable trips. He was the first person to belay me outdoors. And he helped me work through my fear of rope climbing. He and the guys even let me crash in their hotel room last minute! Thanks for the memories and the support Vince! Wish I could have gotten to know you sooner!

For a very long time, vince was one of those people who I keep briefly running into, where neither of us can remember the other's name, but who appears in my thoughts for a disproportionately large amount of time. I first met him when I was going to climb a particularly attractive tree, only to find it was occupied by someone else. The second time I saw his face was when I thought I did a cool parkour trick on the marble balls on campus, only for someone to show me a video of Vince doing it a year earlier. Then, we bumped into each other (not literally) many times while we were both on roller skates. I had quads and Vince had inlines. I looked at his skates with mixed feelings. Of course, I wanted to tell myself mine were better and weighted those properties where quads win the highest, but subconsciously I was a little jealous of the inlines' speed and ability to do tricks. Without consciously conceding this to myself, I was really wishing Vince would similarly be jealous of how lightweight my skates were. At one point my team played his in intramural volleyball. After my team lost, I had my first proper conversation with Vince. I remember both our teammates giggling behind us as we rolled down the road in our skates. We talked about the dances we like to dance, and afterwards, the kind of things we like to make—for me, mostly clothes, for vince, mostly woodworking. It felt like two little kids showing off whose toy truck is cooler. I had to admit that his was cooler, and as self-centered as I am, I concluded from this conversation that I better not stop making things for the rest of my life if I want to keep up with Vince. A few months later, Vince invited me to go roller skating with him and some friends around an outdoor party on campus. It was like the cool kids asking if you wanted to hang out with them, a feeling only amplified by the fact that his friends skates had light up wheels. On another occasion, I was leading a basketweaving workshop outside. Vince was skating by and of course had to stop to participate, the way he is. An hour after everyone else was done and left, Vince and I were still chatting about life, as he was working on making a basket-ball (a photo of the result is added below). Vince was telling me about how he got his PhD in chemistry (?), but now works mostly with the Mechanical Engineering department, nothing to do with the PhD topic. I was at the time applying for a PhD, with some doubts of whether I would find a profession I liked afterwards, or if I would be able to do fun things throughout. Vince gave some incredibly reassuring advice. Really it is Vince that made me happy with myself doing a PhD now. I can't thank him enough for that. Right before summer, as I was leaving for my PhD, Vince showed me his van. I was very impressed with the mess inside, and the size of a tree stump in the trunk. I told Vince I'm leaving campus for good, so good bye, but I'm not too worried since I know our paths will cross again, the way he is.

From the very beginning, I looked at Vince as a role model—there were many things I wanted to be and Vince is a real life example of a large part of those. I will forever continue to look at Vince as a role model. If not anything else, Vince will remind me to not let time simply pass by as I sit on a bench, to infuse the world with my personality at every instant like he did.

I first met Vince at the Stanford d.school when we were both sharing our PRL creations at the end of spring quarter in 2019. I was amazed at his beautiful craftsmanship and humble kindness. We reconnected over a year later in August 2020 and met up for campus walks, rollerblading, picnics (ie eating whole mangoes, haha). At a time when I was feeling anxious and disoriented, Vince was a guiding light and a true friend. Time with him gave me more energy than I’d had in a long time. He helped me rediscover the things I loved—dancing, skating, being in nature, or just being on the rooftop of a parking lot in Mountain View because it was the best vantage point where we could scramble to catch an imminent sunset. I remember doing cartwheels on the grass of the Stanford golf course, skidding around the sandy Great Highway on Ocean Beach in our skates, talking for hours about who knows what while wandering Haight Ashbury. I got stressed once when he suddenly climbed a really tall tree and I didn’t know how he’d get down (little did I know). Vince responded to my dismay at having un-ripped, un-stylish jeans by offering to hold my hands and drag me across a parking lot to create authentic holes. He was totally serious. Our time together was impromptu, unglamorous, and utterly soul-satisfying. He wasn’t afraid to make bold observations and ask the difficult questions. He made me feel appreciated in ways no one else did. I wish we had more time together, and I hope he knew I loved him. My heart goes out to Vince’s family, friends, and all those who were lucky to know and love him. Vince challenged me to reimagine my life in brighter colors. I will strive always to do so in his memory.

Vince is the coolest guy I have ever met. THE COOLEST. That is the best way I can describe him because he was so talented and passionate about so many cool things, and I looked up to him for that. He was and will always be really special.

We met in Autumn 2021 when I enrolled in a dance class to join Stanford's Chocolate Heads performance team. One of my first memories of him was walking into class one day and seeing him doing pull-ups -- not on a typical pull-up bar but literally at the edge of a balcony meant for upper level seating in our "ballroom" of a dance studio. I had no idea how he got up there. I had joked that he was an American Ninja Warrior for pulling off a stunt like that and to my surprise he actually competed (and would continue to!). I grew up watching that show with my dad and got so excited to tell him: "Guess what?? I met an American Ninja Warrior!!" Vince continued to be delightful as someone who would always contribute something special to our dance practices. Sometimes he would show up to practice in the coolest outfit, and then reveal he also made his own clothes. WOW! As someone who's always wanted to make my own clothes but never had the courage to, I really admired him for that. In our Chocolate Heads final performance he blew everyone away by making his own 'Moon' prop to dance with and his choreography was really beautiful. His creativity was "out of this world."
(Here are some videos of him dancing with said 'Moon' prop:
1. Our media person was making "teasers" for our performance and Vince got a spotlight!: https://vimeo.com/513605742?autoplay=1&muted=1&contextual=viewer_home&stream_id=Y2xpcHN8ODgxOTk5MHxpZDpkZXNjfFtd
2. Our final performance -- the last take before the live audience, see Vince's solo starting at around 12:55 with our peer Danny singing as the music accompaniment: https://vimeo.com/832962997/d1b89ade87?share=copy)

After two quarters of dance together and our season ended, I thought I wouldn't see him again. And yet I did in the most 'Vince' ways. One time it was at an art showcase with his amazing wood sculptures on display. I had always loved wood sculpture, and his art was my favorite to look at. The complexity of his work with all the details he would achieve plus his creativity in creating something so moving and personal was really impressive to me. Even better, he was wearing a suit he made himself. I remember thinking he was like Willy Wonka but better.

Another time was a complete surprise. My friend told me she was learning how to pole dance and invited to teach me some tricks. When I show up, he's setting up the pole. Time and time again, I would meet Vince through another surprising talent of his. It was a fun night, playing around to sexy music and hyping each other up but also sometimes laughing off a failed trick and looking stupid.

I think Vince's passing really surprised me because I felt like I had just talked to him two weeks ago (it was closer to a month or two). Naturally it was when he was doing what he loved, sculpting some wood outside EVGR A. I was moving to my summer housing on campus and as I recognized him, I stopped by to say hi. We talked for maybe half an hour or so just catching up. Afterwards, I would keep seeing him in 'his spot.' I had gotten accustomed to seeing him there, around the same time around sunset (sometimes even with a flashlight after dark!! he was so dedicated!!), working on his wood sculptures, and just thinking to myself: he must be so happy to be doing what he loves especially with it being such a beautiful and peaceful Summer on campus. That spot was close to where I lived so I saw him there often. To pass by HIS spot now and know that he will never be there again breaks my heart.

Vince is the coolest guy I have ever met and there is no one like him. He had such a cool array of different hobbies and I know he had so many more that I didn't get to see. He was kind, funny, charming, and smart. colorful. creative. I will always remember him as such.

Vince was an infectious force of life, and I'm so grateful I got to know him during my time at Stanford. He is one of those people who imprints onto you and comes up in your mind during so many random moments because of how far-reaching his life was.

I saw him around CCRMA during my first year from time to time, but it was during COVID, when we had a humble crew of about 10 of us gather in a park to do yoga, that we started becoming friends. As I got to know Vince, it became evident that he was really here on this planet to partake in the things that made him happy and feel alive. I could sense it just from watching him lead us in yoga and during acro practice with him. I remember one day I showed up a little early and saw him sitting under one of the huge trees in the park where we practiced. In the most casual of tones, he said he wanted to explore the tops of the trees, and within seconds, he scrambled up to the top branches. Somehow, he was someone who made you feel like you were up there with him. I asked him if he climbed and told him he should join the Stanford Alpine Club and that we should climb together. We never ended up becoming direct climbing partners, but I loved continuing to hear about his trips and seeing the photos and videos from the climbs he began to do. While other people, including myself, get so caught up in the "grades" and what/how you should climb, he just climbed because he liked the exploration, the adventure, and the physical feeling of it. I think of him and his view of climbing whenever I feel myself getting too stressed about some trivial goal or expectation, and I think of how he would just be enjoying himself.

I loved how Vince seamlessly straddled what sometimes felt like two disparate parts of my own life, the artsy/music part and the outdoors part, in such a way that they weren't separate to him. Art, rollerblading, dancing, sculpture, mountains, and science were all different beautiful ways of interacting with the world, and Vince didn't discriminate. He saw them all as important. And he was beautifully able to form deep and authentic communities around all of them. Vince brought life and joy into every community. He showed up across so many different spheres of my life at Stanford, and I always admired how at home he seemed with so many different people. He could connect with and learn from every type of person. I was not surprised at all that he somehow made his defense fun, celebratory, and full of Vince livelihood, and that it was attended by all of the people who got to witness his PhD journey.

A distinct memory I wanted to share was about a time at a party at Rains that our friend Vaim was throwing. His lovely mother came to visit, and I ended up getting to know her, standing outside in the Rains courtyard, and learning so much more about Vince through her eyes. I got to witness just a few brief moments of their clearly loving relationship. It was beautifully clear to see that his mom saw his unique exuberance for extracting the most out of all aspects of his life, for having fun, and let him go after it. Right now, I also think of her and their family.

Around the same time, he threw his first watch party at Stanford for his first ANW season. He made it so fun - designing basic replicas of the stunts he faced during the competition that we could all try for ourselves. It was very classic Vince to create all of them, and he even found a way to make his community feel included in his ANW journey.

To be honest, I'm still a bit at a loss for words in regard to his passing. I have still been talking about him in the present tense. He definitely still seems here with us because of the imprint and the impact he had on so many of us. It gives me great comfort knowing that he truly lived his life exuberantly and to the fullest. He was free!! I will miss him and think of him and the multitudes of his life often.

Vince was such an incredible person, who I wish I had more time to get to know.

We first met on a big film set at Universal Studios Hollywood.. we were the two ninjas that were casted to play the role of Indiana Jones in the commercial for the new movie. From the moment we met, it already felt like we had been friends for a long time. It was awesome having somebody in that situation that I could relate to and talk with during the down time. We ended up having so much in common, and there’s so much about Vince that I really appreciate. We are both ninjas, and love creative movement, climbing trees, and exploring the world in unique ways. We are both artists, and are obsessed with creating and making things, each and our own ways. As someone with very deep passions for creating, I really appreciate that Vince felt the same way, and was impressed by his skills and talents in a variety of areas.

Towards the end of the shoot, there was one final shot the production team wanted to get, which involved strapping an awkward, heavy camera helmet rig onto my head as I ran across the balance obstacle. I’ll never forget how brave Vince was, and how he saved my ass by volunteering to do it since I was too nervous to do it myself 😆

Since meeting on that night, we stayed in touch and found time to meet up again multiple times. When he was in San Diego with Sasha, they visited me to come hang out and play in the jungle (my backyard obstacle course). It was such a good time for both my wife and I. They taught us acro yoga moves on our deck. I felt like a kid again, playing around with them, and staying up late on a weeknight. I found it awesome that they were the first people to ever volunteer to sleep outside on the pads underneath the canopy of trees. Only a couple days later, my wife and I found herself in his neck of the woods near SF. We met up again at David Campbell‘s backyard course, and I had a blast training with them for hours on a beautiful summer day.

The thing that stands out to me most about Vince is his unwavering positivity in every situation. He was a shining light that really lived life to the fullest. I’m heartbroken over the loss of such an amazing person, who I knew was going to be a lifelong friend. I will always keep Vince in mind, and emulate his positive attitude and adventurous spirit.

Vince was a bright light in Prison Renaissance at Stanford: deeply committed (even at the cost to his own sleep schedule!), infectiously cheerful, inspiringly ambitious about what we could do together. He was instrumental to the zine project; in fact, the first photo I have of Vince is of an exuberant & heartfelt embrace, when Emile Suotonye DeWeaver, co-founder of Prison Renaissance and the co-director of Prison Renaissance at Stanford, was able to meet us on the Stanford campus for the first time. Vince brought him a gift: a piece that he had carved from wood as part of the artivist collaboration the two of them had co-created while still separated by prison walls.

At later events, they would take the opportunity to share their experiences and reflections, to transmit to a broader audience what might be possible when art-making and abolitionist imagining are combined with trust & vulnerability & commitment a decarceral future. Vince will be missed, and it is up to those of us whose lives he touched to carry on the cheerful, unflagging, endearingly zany energy he brought to the world.

Vince was the most refreshingly unique and interesting person I've ever met (and probably will ever meet). He brought such joy and passion to his multitude of hobbies. It was truly an inspiring way to live. His dorm room was overflowing with art projects. He scaled buildings to get the lab to a roof picnic spot (that's his foot in the picture). He was a regular on American Ninja Warrior. I could go on and on with the list of his talents. Being so exceptionally talented and still tremendously grounded and kind to others is such a rare combination. Here's one fun Vince anecdote: Once we picked Vince up at LAX to meet up on the way to filming an American Ninja Warrior ad. He said he wanted to make a quick stop at the Natural History Museum on the way to the shoot. He told us he was trying to get into the field of taxidermy and wanted to check out the exhibits. About 15 minutes into walking around the unrelated butterfly tent, Vince had befriended a docent (pictured below) and got a meeting with the head of the Taxidermy department. He was just so easy to talk to and genuinely interested in other people that this kind of stuff would just happen. When we finally left the museum we had to battle across LA rush hour traffic while his studio appointed driver was calling him from outside the hotel he was supposed to be at before the shoot. I was panicking thinking if I didn't get him there in time his TV career was over, but Vince was characteristically zen the whole time. We barely made it to the studio, and rolled him out of the car, and he casually walked into the building like it was exactly as planned.

I am so deeply saddened to hear about Vincent's passing. He was volunteering with us here at Carnegie for a very brief amount of time, but I remember his huge smile and warm demeanor. He was a bundle of energy and kindness. And this from knowing him just a few moments! It breaks my heart to hear that he is no longer here to share his passions and gifts with the world. He will be deeply missed.

I do not have much to share but I did gather a description from him when he joined us!

"Vince Pane studied polyhydroxyalkanoate synthesis and applications to close-looped manufacturing for his PhD in chemistry at the Waymouth lab at Stanford University. During his PhD he also fostered his passions for art, tree-climbing, and sculpture leading to his involvement in classes such as "Partner with Trees" (taught by Devaki) and "Chemistry in the Kitchen" (taught by Richard Zare). He is currently at Stanford studying the macrostructure of woody plants as well as other form-function relationships from a sculptural lens. He is interested in developing other tree-related and interdisciplinary courses and events."

A huge loss and my deepest sympathy to his family and friends on his passing. I am including the picture he sent to me to help onboard him.

The world is a little dimmer today. I just found out that Vincent has left us and I am filled with sadness over the potential that was Vicent. I have known Vincent since he was a wee one and his personality was always larger than life. He definitely had the right brain, left brain cylinders fired up and I was always amazed at his accomplishments as a scientist, artist and athlete. He was a wonderful son, sibling and friend. When I look at the beauty this world has to offer, I will think of you my friend.

I first met Vincent as part of the Stanford running club. We ran a couple workouts together when the club was off during finals.
Then, I kept running into him in every cool activity I decided to do. I went to the gym, ran into Vince. Went climbing, Vince was there. Decided to start gymnastics open hours, Vince sporadically showed up. Biked to EVGR to see my friends, Vince was sculpting wood on the side of the bike lane. Started dancing with the Chocolate Heads group and going to Dance workshops - Vince came to each workshop and told me he used to dance with Chocolate Heads as well.

One time my boyfriend took me to a small concert in San Francisco on a Tuesday evening - who else do we bump into but Vince! I told my boyfriend: “This guy is everywhere!”. When I texted Vince saying “I always run into you in the most random places” he replied “Guess we are both just into awesome stuff!”

Looking back that really is who Vince was - into awesome stuff. He did it all: sports, arts, fashion, science at one of the most renowned institutions on earth. He had this healthy eccentricity that allowed him to express himself to the fullest and to perform in his love of life.

I was deeply saddened to learn about his loss and cannot fathom the grief that his close ones are going through. I hope you find comfort in knowing how happy and bubbly he was, and how he made the most of each second that was given to him. If there is a world after ours, I am certain Vince has already started exploring and enjoying that world as well. My sincere condolences to his family.

I only knew Vince briefly but was always touched by his extraordinary passion for life. He was as deeply principled as he was whimsical and light, and I felt truly privileged to share a campus with him. I will think of him fondly and with warmth. My sincere condolences.

I have never met anyone quite so free as Vincent Evan Pane. Vince was to me, and all who knew him, one of the most exceptional humans out there. He was unbelievably multifaceted -a brilliant chemist, an exotic fruit connoisseur, an American Ninja Warrior, an unparalleled sculptor, a dancer, a tree aficionado, an ace climber, a model, a tailor, the list goes on and on. Vince was an adventurer’s adventurer, as free spirited as they come. He was the human embodiment of carpe diem- he lived his life to the fullest, with all the color and none of the regret.

The last photos I took of Vince were fittingly a last-minute affair. After having multiple people bail on the shoot, I bumped into Vince and Kristen, who both enthusiastically agreed with less than an hours notice. Upon arrival, Vince darted through spiny thickets and shot up the abandoned telephone pole as it tilted in the wind. Once at the top he enjoyed a fresh mango, all while wearing a bright orange suit that he had tailored himself. I’ve truly never known anyone like him, and I doubt I ever will.

He was, above all else, a kind soul and a great friend to all who knew him. As my friend Eric Pattison would say “If Vince knew you, he wanted to involve you.” The world has lost much with his passing.

I am heartbroken to hear about Vince. It seems unbelievable that someone so full of life, energy, passion, and creativity could be gone. I have so many memories of Vince that now take on new meaning as I truly realize the impact that he’s had on me and on others around him.

I first met Vince as his TA mentor when he was a first year graduate student and I was a second year. Immediately we started talking about art, athletics, rock climbing, Colorado, fireworks, etc. I was struck by how passionate he was and how many interests and hobbies he had. Throughout graduate school he was an inspiration to me - that even through the rigors of a Chemistry PhD, he didn’t sacrifice his true joys in life. It was only after I graduated and started my job that I started realizing the same things - that hobbies and outside-of-work activities were the most important. I remember talking to Vince on the phone about this realization and he was happy for me, and said, “about time!” He had had it figured out the whole time.

We went on adventures hiking, climbing trees, and doing art. We ran a silkpainting class together. I was honored to help out a bit on his woodcarving of the kneeling child. He actually worked on that piece (snatching 30 minutes of sleep here and there) in my basement. He would come over and I’d cook food with my boyfriend and Vince would eat and eat, needing to fuel the incredible amount of energy he spent on living life to the fullest. We always sent him home with so many leftovers knowing that he would be deep in concentration on an art project soon. I loved these times with Vince; I was so inspired by his energy and his unwillingness to compromise on who he was. I helped him dye some parts of his costume for American Ninja Warriors and was so proud to support him in his efforts! He was so strong, talented, graceful, and vibrant. He truly lived life to the fullest at each and every moment. I remember doing helium fills of the NMRs with him and how he always tried to mess around with the helium and have fun with it. He made every moment fun and more than it was before. He connected with the world and with other people in a way that is so rare.

I regret not corresponding with him more after I left Stanford and moved away. I think we both didn’t go on our phones much. But I always bragged about my friend who was on American Ninja Warriors. When I do art projects I think of him and how he’d be happy knowing there’s a bit more art in the world. I am inspired by Vince to let my artistic and creative side show and to not apologize for who I am. Vince, you taught me so much about how to really live life, and I will never forget you. I miss you

I met Vince while working for Stanford’s dining department when he entered our Iron Chef-style Cardinal Cook-off in 2019. I was immediately drawn to his hand sewn oh-so-1970s brown striped pants! (Very Brady Bunch from my era).
I interviewed Vince for an article and from there we became fast friends. I loved sneaking him into special dining events for free food! One night he showed up rocking his sculpted wood hat. I could not believe it was made of wood. I was blown away. We texted every so often and met around campus. I am a (young) 60 year old w/ two adult sons so I suppose I felt a bit motherly toward Vince. But more so I thought he just was a cool Renaissance dude who marched to the beat of his own drummer. I remember asking him about his mom. He told me she taught him how to sew. I marveled thinking she must be one kick ass mama to have brought this kind of evolved, sweet, interesting human into the world. I'm sending love to Vince’s mama and family, and condolences for the loss of your sweet son and brother. Vince, I hope you're somewhere beautiful sculpting wood hats for angels.

PS: For the Cook-off, Vince had to create an original dish using heirloom mushrooms and pork chops. He and his partner didn’t win with their “crispy portobello with forest mushroom and prosciutto ragu. But in my eyes, he definitely won “best dressed.”

Life is a beautiful but fickle thing. Noone knows this more than you now, Vince.

Thank you for sharing thoughts and energy, art and laughter. You’ve been a true friend to Nils and so to me. I’m grateful to have met you and I ache over the irrecoverable fact that your adventure time got cut short.

May your spirit dance forever with the stars. Frauke

Vince showed me around the Chemistry department and he was one of the nicest and artistic people on campus. He will be truly missed for his talents and open-mindedness to the world.

Vince was the graduate art fellow at Kimball, the arts-themed residence at Stanford, when I met him in my senior year. Vince with the hand-sewn shirts, chunky earring, and indomitable joy.

In 2020, when we were all muddling our way through the isolating early days of the pandemic, Vince was the kind of friend who reached out to check that you were doing okay, that you were still making art, that you moved your body recently. He radiated creativity and care.

One conversation we had feels particularly poignant now. It was about public art interventions. Outside the Cantor Arts Center, there's a sculpture by Deborah Kass called OY/YO. Two monumental yellow aluminum letters—Y and O, each about 8x8' and 4' deep. Vince and I talked of scrounging up enough scrap material to transform it into #YOLO—that ubiquitous 2010s motto that was, in its best sense, about living life to the fullest. He wanted to use it as a backdrop for a cheesy music video with, and I quote, "lots of chest hair."

We never got around to dumpster diving for the cardboard to stage the sculpture intervention. But, as anyone reading the incredible memories on this wall can see, Vince absolutely lived life to its weirdest, most wonderful limits and pulled the rest of us along for the ride.

Vince, I'll continue to think of you every time I pass by a discard pile of tree stumps. If there's an afterlife, I hope you're out there skating circles that hug the heavens and carving smiles into the skies.

Sending light and deepest care to Vince's loved ones and the many communities he built and sustained.

I only got to hang out with Vince a few times, but I always wanted to spend more time with him. We were trying to plan a city roller blading session for this summer. I found him carving late one evening — as many of us did — and we talked for a long while about his woodworking and our ideas on life. Vince showed me some of his campus ninja training spots, and he’d often text me with new possible adventures - Acroyoga circus, etc. I was glad to be invited to join him on these crazy delightful adventures. His was a bright soul and I will miss him.

Vince always felt like an almost magical individual who showed those of us lucky enough to meet him that life had more color and possibilities than we often remember. On multiple occasions, for example, while on the 2 AM walk home from a party we would bump into Vince working on his latest art project outside in the dark. There was something wondrous about these encounters, running into this individual who no matter the time of day seemed to be continuously creating. Looking through my phone for pictures I am grateful that I had the sense to capture one of these encounters. Perhaps fittingly, it seems like he and I didn’t stop to record all of the other times we shared. From making ice cream with liquid nitrogen (that we definitely did not steal) to constructing a wind sail for my skateboard (that definitely did work perfectly), Vince gave me numerous unique experiences that I will cherish for the rest of my life. I am glad I got to play a small part in his epic story, helping to film and write his first Ninja Warrior application. In the hours we shared as co-NMR TA’s, passing the time while waiting for the instruments to fill, I also got to see that as larger-than-life as he was, Vince had aspirations and anxieties just like us mere mortals.
It pains me to no end that I won’t get to bump into Vince somewhere in the middle of the night as he labors over his latest project. But the magic and wonder he brought into the world remains with those of us lucky to have met him. As long as we remember to be a bit more adventurous, a bit more weird, and above all to create more, Vince lives on in us.

Vince brightened up Prison Renaissance. He always had stories to tell about his dance troupe, unfinished wood carvings, self-made clothes, ninja adventures, and chemistry. No matter if there was demoralizing news, we’d end up laughing and bonding.

He also had a strong sense of justice and compassion. Beyond Vince’s many creative talents, it was remarkable the amount of thought he put into his projects and friendships.

I still feel like I could walk onto campus and see Vince laughing and roller skating. It’s hard to imagine someone with so much vitality is gone.

Rest in peace, Vince.

I can't believe this tragedy...

Four years ago, I found myself in a "music tunnel", where a bunch of folks gathered to play music and sing. Candlelight illuminated drawings on the floor and walls, deep voices echoed the words of "Sound of Silence", and a full moon created a magical moment. That's where I first met Vince -- I even have a picture of that moment (the 1st photo). He was wearing a jumpsuit and jewelry that he crafted himself, and when he mentioned he was also doing PhD in chemistry, all that immediately captured my attention.

From then on, I would often see Vince on campus -- carving, rollerskating, dancing, climbing trees, or at parties with friends. Our conversations ranged from the random to the profound. There was always something grounding about knowing he was around.

Vince always had a unique and gentle way of treating the world, with a kind of care, avoiding greed, excess, or burnout.

He had so much left to give and create. It feels surreal to be writing about him in the past tense now.

Vince, I can't believe this is it... Thank you for everything, friend.

Brilliant.

Vince was brilliant, in every sense of the word. Intellectually brilliant, as we all know. But also, and most importantly, his spirit.

Vince shone out with the brilliance of a fiercely burning shooting star. His essence exuded such a vivacious energy that ignited flames of passion in everyone he came into contact with. He was a catalyst for creative inspiration and expression. He still is.

For me, Vince will live forever in the brilliance of nature's unknowable beauty. In the awe of incomprehensible natural phenomenon. In the ethereal play of light and shadow, color, texture, and movements of the universe. Through art, Vince's brilliance lives on.

Thank you, Vince, for all you brought to life.

Dear Thomas Pane and parents of Vincent Pane, I am so very grateful that your dear brother and son crossed my path one dynamic year in his journey. On a referral from colleagues in dance, I hired Vince to serve as a graduate mentor to Stanford undergraduate students in a circus production. Yes, a Stanford PhD in Chemistry, mentoring others in a commissioned work of circus movement. None better than Vincent Pane to fill the role! His spirit was infections and he readily spread happiness to all he encountered. My last wish to you, Vince, I hope that you flew freely! My heart and condolences to Vince's family and all his many friends who also loved him.
Gina Hernandez

Truly a man of mischief and benevolent mayhem. Wherever good trouble could be found, Vince seemed to be just around the corner or just under the storm drain. I feel so lucky to have danced, skated, adventured, and laughed with you Vince. We will create, question, and play in your honor.

Looking back, I feel extremely privileged to have known Vince.
Vince was one of the most prolific people I have ever met. His loss extends way beyond the many people who directly surrounded him.

I collaborated with Vince throughout a large portion of his PhD. Especially during COVID, when real face-to-face interactions were scarce, he was one of the few people I would regularly interact with. We exchanged samples on the then mostly abandoned Stanford campus and discussed the results, which made me feel just a little less isolated and enabled me to keep doing my research. Him running batch after batch (often at night and on weekends) of my samples over years, and not losing patience or growing frustrated, was admirable and ultimately what allowed us to succeed, paving the path that my professional career is founded on.

Further, we shared a common passion for various forms of exercise, another subject we could connect over - good times at the trampoline park! Being aspirational myself, I admired how he coordinated and balanced all his interests in combination with a unique lifestyle, while still being there for his friends. For example, he helped me sew patches on a jumpsuit for my analog mission. Together we also ground out the cut-outs of my electric guitar so I could change the pickups. When I showed him the metal hardware that was removed from my fractured foot after it had healed, he wanted to weld a trinket from it, which we never got to, unfortunately.

From science to his art to sports, he was always fully committed and, most of all, genuine, a rare trait these days. (His art, especially the woodworks, are remarkable btw.) On top of everything, Vince was a hoot and just fun to be around or run into. The chance to find him dancing at random locations and during odd times on Stanford campus in self-made clothing was the best.

Vince… I’m struggling to find the words for the sadness and loss I feel. You were such a beautiful soul. That day we spent in Santa Cruz... so much laughter, sitting in the backseat of the car with Isabel. I honestly can’t even remember what we were laughing about – just that we couldn’t stop. I love that you somehow convinced us to go into the freezing ocean water when we got to the beach and how we then spent a good few hours walking into the woods as the sun was setting, searching for that abandoned treehouse with the swing. You always brought this sense of adventure that made even the simplest moments feel magical.
And that time we had lunch at Bing Concert Hall... you showed up in rollerblades, HUGE SMILE on your face, and we laughed so much together. You had this way of making everything feel light yet so deeply meaningful at the same time.
Even though we met up less often after that year, I loved getting random updates from you, about your ninja warrior adventures or dance performances. And from time to time I'd see you on campus, working on your wood sculptures. To me, you represented the best parts of being at Stanford. Your creativity, your openness, your spirit—they were truly one of a kind.
I was really looking forward to your defense, and I regret not being there… it sounded like such an epic event, the kind only you could make happen. It weighs on me that at my own defense celebration a few months ago, I briefly saw you, but with everything going on, I didn’t get the chance to talk to you before you left. I wish I could have told you in that moment how much it meant to me that you were there and how much you meant to me, period.
Vince, you were unique in a way that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to express. You were part of what made Stanford feel like home, and I just wish I could tell you how deeply grateful I am for having known you. You were, and always will be, an inspiration.
Missing you and sending you all my love.

My sweet friend Vince-a-lin. Every time you hugged me, you’d just squeeze me tight until I burst out laughing. We were the three musketeers for nearly 3 years until covid spread us apart. And even then you came and visited me in the Santa Cruz mountains. Whenever I called you, you were there for me. You had my back whenever I needed you. And I have so many memories of us adventuring out in Mother Nature’s playground.

One story that I will always remember you by was when I got punched in the face, during water polo practice, 1 week after I got my nose pierced. And you immediately dropped everything and were tryna help me put the piercing back into my nose. And when that didn’t work you spent 4 hours sculpting an abalone piece for me, and my nose healed around that. T’was quite a silly/intimate thing for a friend to stick their fingers up my nose.

You would pick me up early morning to go surfing after we would go out dancing at night at lame grad school parties. I remember getting into that freezing cold, Great White infested Bodega Bay waters just to make sure you were safe, because you loved fighting those crazy 10 ft. waves.

I loved filming your silly dance moves and photographing your truly insane and one of a kind sculptures. You once spent 16 hours carving me the most beautiful Abalone earrings because you knew how much I loved the shell’s iridescence. You were a brilliant, curious, complicated, and unique man. And there is no one quite like you. I am honored and blessed to have called you a close friend. And I hope to honor your life by living it to the fullest because that is what you did best. You loved the earth and its beauty and I hope to continue to woodwork and incorporate nature into my artwork in your remembrance. Thank you for your friendship, care, support, laughter, and fun adventures. I love you so much my guy. I wish more than anything that I could get a Vince hug just one last time.

I met Vince my freshmen year (winter of 2019) at the Stanford Outdoor Center for an outdoor center trip to Tahoe to stay in a cabin and cross-country ski. Vince had not spent a ton of time on cross-country skies, but we both had a ball running around on skinny skies. For me, it was one of my first off-campus trips of the year and meeting people outside of the freshmen dorm context was refreshing. The rest of the folks on the ski trip were a group of Danish medical exchange students. The subsequent weekend they invited us to join them for a party at their house in San Fransico. Vince gave me a ride down in his minivan and we also gave one other Dannish friend a ride down. At the party, I learned that beer pong was very cross-cultural and admired how Vince was able to easily blend with people from many different backgrounds. On the drive home, we learned from our Danish friend that one of her friends had died in the previous year from leukemia although she recognized that she will never get back the carefree attitude of childhood, dancing was a nice respite from the harsh realities of life.

After that, I stayed in loose touch with Vince for the rest of my time at Stanford. I was always amazed by the number of undergrads that knew Vince personally or impersonally “the guy that climbs on trees”. He touched many lives and will be missed by many friends.

Vince, we were part of a brute squad your first year on ninja, and you were immediately a close friend! Your true renaissance life and attitude was so infectious! My students and I loved watching your dissertation and doctorate program, and we were all fascinated by your work. I'll miss you like my own brother. Rest in peace my friend.

Hey Vince. You were a bit like a younger brother to me and I've always loved hearing from you. (I've even enjoyed watching your wild adventure videos... kind of: sometimes I watched them with my eyes partially covered.) Not yesterday though. It was a brief and yet difficult phone call with your brother Tom, and his words are still hard for me to comprehend. You were such an extraordinary talent, a wonderful scientist, sculptor, dancer, a kind human being, and so much more... I wish I had at least taken a proper selfie with you. I'll never forget you coming to my (our) very first art show in 2020 (weird pandemic times with the masks and distancing!), wearing that badass outfit that you created for yourself. I'm now smiling thinking how excited Mark Twain must be, welcoming you on the other side of the Rainbow Bridge while you're crossing it & rocking that handmade wood hat and those Huckleberry Finn-style hosenträgers of yours. I bet you're a much more lively and fun real character than he'd ever imagined his fictional son would be.

You'd convinced me that it was possible to combine wood sculpting with encaustic painting, and I truly enjoyed creating our two pieces together with you. You were a bit of a mystery to me: why does a young man like you think about capturing the moment of bursting a bubble, or the face of a female figure sinking under water and exhaling her last breath? We turned your ideas into Bursting Dante's Bubble and Help Mother Earth (as she's drowning from air pollution) together. It was deeply emotionally touching: many years later, I can still hear you saying "we should make art for the process of making art, not for the outcome of it". Well said, sweet friend - you had the right attitude all along. You were more present in each moment than anyone else I know. I loved to see you experiment with encaustic painting - you were curious about everything! My dog Stella will turn 12 soon - I hope you will give her another one of your magnificent hugs next time you see her again. She'd truly love that, and you were definitely one of her favorites!

To this day, I truly regret missing out on your PhD defense. I would have loved to root for you during your epic Ninja presentation, and to celebrate your becoming Doctor of Chemistry in your pink self-made velvet suit with the shell-buttons extravaganza. If I could go back in time, I'd join you without hesitation. I'd be more present in your life in general - I could sense that there were times when you felt a little bit lonely, or had a deep-rooted desire to feel more understood.

You'll be missed, Vince. I mean, are you kidding your mortal friends? It would be impossible not to remember you with the great fondness you have always deserved.

To Vince's family and loved ones: I would like to offer my deepest condolences. I'm terribly sorry for your loss and I cannot possibly imagine how devastated you all must feel by such a sudden, tragic event. Vince's charming and genuine personality shone so bright because of the support of so many of you. I met Vince in 2020 through Stanford ArtX - I was a staff neuroscientist at Stanford at that time, and we connected through our shared love for art. His masterpiece, Pabulum truly struck me for its depth and incredible level of detail. (I had the privilege to witness the process of its making, for which I'm truly grateful.) I'd like to offer our collaborative pieces as a gift to the Pane family, in case they would like to keep them. I know Vince never really cared about exhibitions (I believe I may have been the one who talked him into using Instagram - before that, he used to refuse being present on any social media platform). Nevertheless, I'd be happy to include his fascinating sculptures in any of my upcoming gallery exhibitions. Perhaps it would help keep his memory alive? This year I've applied to the San Francisco General Hospital's Hearts in San Francisco project, with my proposed design titled "Holding Space For You": https://sfghf.org/hearts-in-san-francisco/. In case my concept gets selected, I would like to dedicate this heart sculpture (it will be located somewhere in a public place in the city of San Francisco), to Vince: the man who convinced me that encaustic painting was possible on sculptures and on curved surfaces in general. Furthermore, I dedicate this heart to everyone who continues to hold space for Vince and cherishes all the wonderful shared memories.

Sending hugs and love to you all,
Marianna

Vince constantly inspired me to push my limits.

I remember when he first began training for American Ninja Warrior. He somehow managed to balance intense training, sculpting, and finishing his PhD.

We first connected over dinner, talking about his research on agriculture on Mars. That night was one of the few times we talked about research because Vince lived many lives, each one more exciting than the last.

For example, he made jewelries and he made me a necklace, which will always remind me of our friendship and his vibrant spirit.

He was a climber, We spent nights walking together around campus, climbing trees. He was known as Barron the tree climber.

He was a dancer, and I have seen his choreography at Stanford engineering quad and shared moments supporting other artists.

Vince, thank you for showing me new perspectives and sharing a piece of your life with me. I will think of you whenever I see wooden sculptures, trees, and sunrises.

This is a loss that’s hard to comprehend. I didn’t know Vince for a super long time, but it only took a few minutes of meeting him to know how unique of a person he was. Every time I saw him at dance rehearsal, I learned a new, completely surprising facet of his personality. He had more interests and passion for life in any given moment than most people could hope for across their lifetime. He was warm and inviting, with seemingly unending energy to give to everyone he interacted with at Chocolate Heads. We are lucky to have known him.

What an enriching person to know. I remember first joining chocolate heads and Vince being one of the first people I got to meet. Getting to learn how someone can be so multifaceted and so curious is something I’m grateful to have been exposed to.

From dancing, to sculpting wood, to being in American Ninja Warrior three times, to working on his doctorate, Vince seemed to always be pursuing something. I was lucky to get to share in these experiences once in a while. Getting to learn how to be more ‘acrobatic’ in chocolate heads with him, him being one of my students in my ceramics class and sharing one of my passions, even getting together with other dancers and lab partners online to support him in his ninja warrior debut, all of these memories of his pursuit of happiness show his impact to those around him and the memories that he will live through.

My sincerest condolences to his loved ones, and may he be remembered for the happiness that he shared.

With warm regards,

This is heartbreaking to hear. Vince and I spontaneously met on the Stanford track in 2018. We immediately hit it off and shared some really fun adventures that summer. Some of the most memorable ones were not-so-legal activities that may have involved sneaking into and climbing on billboards, bridges, cranes, etc... around the Bay Area.

I still remember the last time I saw him. It was after midnight on a warm summer night and we had just taken our own personal tour of the Stanford Stadium (a nerve-wracking yet exhilarating experience). We said our farewells and drove off in different directions.

Shortly after, I moved out of the Bay Area to attend grad school but we continued to keep in touch throughout the years. I was always so happy to hear about his accomplishments, like competing on American Ninja Warrior or finishing his PhD. Vince is definitely one of the most unique and adventurous people I've ever met in my life. In the short time I spent with him, he absolutely inspired me to live life to the fullest. I will miss him a lot.

I first encountered Vince without really knowing who he was. I just saw a man and a woman rollerblading, spinning circles around each other, and skating backward, all on the way to class. I was skating too, with far less coordination and grace. So I was understandably floored by the display and utterly inspired to improve my own skills.

Fast forward a couple of years and my friend Court invites me out to sneak into the aquatic center at Stanford and dive off the 10-meter board, all while dodging cops and keeping as quiet as possible. And of course, the one and only Vince Pane comes along on this mischievous quest, always seemingly involved in these types of shenanigans. Only after I saw him with his skates a bit later did I connect the dots.

After this adventure, our paths crossed now and then, but his name would always come up among my friends. Once, we talked of all things inline skating outside the d.school. The last thing he said to me was to invite me to skate at Nomad, which I missed because I was abroad. He had a way of tempting you into adventure, and I always sensed a grand project whenever we met.

It was far too early to lose such a radiant soul, who burned so brightly that his light touched the lives of everyone he met throughout his life.

Thank you for showing us what it meant to truly live. I hope you're skating around endlessly wherever you are.

I first met Vince when he began carving Pabulum for the stanford prison project. My favorite shifts in the woodshop at stanford were always the ones in which he was there working away on the new crazy thing he decided to make while musing about life. Over the years as he worked on various projects in the PRL, I got to know him better and so begun our friendship. Vince made an incredible impression on me, showing me how to see the beauty in the most mundane things and how to step back and take life just a little less seriously. Little beknownset to me when we first met, I just so happened to live next to one of Vince's favorite oak trees to climb on campus. Often I would look out my second story window to find vince eye level with me climbing away in the branches without a care in the world. He was an amazing person who touched so many lives and will forever leave an impact on so many of us. In recent years our friendship involved trying to convince him to use his unbounded creativity on the new cool log or stump I found and seeing what crazy idea he could come up with to use it next. He inspired so many of with this incredible artistry over the years and I will always think of him every time I find the next crazy looking log. Even in his passing I know Vince will continue to inspire me to be more free, learn new things, and to just enjoy life. My deepest condolences to the Pane family and all who knew and loved him.

Vince and I first met each other through the arts themed dorm - he was the graduate resident, and I was an RA. I had the pleasure of witnessing Vince bringing light into the world of so many people through this. His unbounded creativity, combined with his deep curiosity and care for people, left an unmistakeable impact on the lives and memories of all of us. The word that comes to mind for me is "Renaissance man". He wasn't bound by the constraints of society, he seemed beyond this. He was a true artist. Whenever I'd see him on campus after we graduated, it'd be a total breath of fresh air. He was so -- real. Profoundly fascinating and fascinated with life and others'. Genius at woodworking, world class chemist, rollerskater extraordinaire, ninja warrior, only person I know who makes his own clothes and so many more things, of which just one would be enough to leave a lasting memory. The world is not as bright or interesting without Vince. We'll miss you - thank you for everything

My friend and I often walked on Stanford campus. One day, we saw this young man working on a wooden sculpture. After passing him several times, I decided I wanted to see what he was doing.
He was incredibly friendly, open, and wonderful to talk with.
We stopped by to see him many times after that.
He was amazing, multitalented, kind, and fascinating -- a Renaissance super-hero.
I am a Stanford alum, and I first lived in Blackwelder (many years ago), where he was living at the time.
He made a deep impression on me, even in the short time I knew him.
My husband and I even invited him over for brunch.
I still think of him when I pass by his wood sculpting location.
He probably lived several lives during his way-too-short time on earth. But I'm so sad that he no longer inhabits this plane.
May his memory be a blessing to all his family and friends who loved him.

Vince and I met over a slice at Pizza My Heart in Palo Alto, and immediately connected over our shared passions for the arts and sciences. I complimented him on his fun outfit and he told me that he had made it himself. At that point, I knew he was a person I wanted in my life.

He told me about a cool arts program where students were creating collaborative works with inmates at San Quentin penitentiary, which I joined immediately. We were the only two grad students involved, but Vince was at home anywhere - and especially in places he could create art!

Vince was an inspiration to me in many ways, and his fearless pursuits of fun and beauty will stay with me always. The news of his passing comes as a terrible and unexpected loss. I know he lived his life fully and generously, and I will take his memory with me as I endeavor to do the same.

Love you, Vince! Thanks for everything.

-Guillaume

Vince and I grew up about a dozen houses away from each other, but It wasn't until the middle school bus ride to Westview that I finally met him. We became friends that first day. Living so close meant we would meet up almost daily to walk and talk, hang out on his trampoline, or head either North or South a mile to our other friend's homes. That is… when we weren't already invading his own house in search of food, entertainment, and everything else that came with the Pane family hospitality. While I would sometimes check in and out of our core friend group throughout middle and high school, Vince was always there for me and happy to hang out.

Our conversations were regularly led by Vince talking to me about things in incredible detail. I wasn't the sharpest tool so Vince was a wealth of knowledge about tons of things that often went straight over my head. I remember many times asking him about just the most random things like "Dude, why do we drink milk from cows?" or "How come waves form in the ocean". I would pretty much ask him anything I was too afraid to ask anyone else for fear of looking like an idiot or getting laughed at. Vince would gladly answer any question I had without any condescendence or judgment. I would often get two answers during these conversations. One that would be about a twenty-minute long explanation where I would chime in with a few "Oh, that makes sense!” and “Whoa… Okay?” replies. After he realized that he was still going on or had inadvertently changed topics he would start the conversation over with a single-sentence response that summed up what he just said in the simplest ways for me to grasp. He never really thought to just answer the question that way to begin with but that’s what made Vince, Vince.

We also spent many after-school evenings talking about the girls we were interested in and how we should try and talk to them. We would spend hours asking each other for advice and run through scenarios of what we would say to a girl the next day at school only to chicken out and have wasted all that planning and preparation from the night before. One night we were talking about this girl in our English class that we were both into and I told him I wanted to ask her out at lunch the next day. I was also telling him this as a way to gauge how he felt and he was cool about it and supportive. At recess the next day, I finally mustered up the courage and got completely rejected. Vince was standing right next to me when it happened and he then immediately took his shot and asked her out too. The girl also said no and I’ll never forget the look of befuddlement she had as she walked away and never talked to us again in that class.

Around this time as well our local rec center had ‘Kids Night Out’ for middle schoolers, where we would play basketball or swim until we realized that all of the girls were in the ballet room where they had a DJ and dancing. We were so awkward and nervous to talk to girls that we started going in there and just stood in the middle of the dance floor and slowly walked to the benches across from the dance floor. We would just sit there and look around but try not to make too much eye contact. Just so awkward and strange! Soon after doing this though, many girls would come up to us and ask if we wanted to dance and we got some of our first (I suppose you could call them) girlfriends this way. These sorts of brief romances would often never last longer than the next time ‘Kids Night Out’ occurred. This taught us the lesson that if you are super quiet and act a little mysterious and uninterested, the ladies will always come to you. This seldom worked outside of that dance room but it made for some good reality checks later down the line.

I’ll miss Vince’s inspiring creativity. Once I began sewing clothing, it was so awesome to discuss and see ideas come to life that we and our other close friends were creating. I once sent Vince a nickel in the mail just to have him drill two holes in it to make a button for some pants I was working on. I probably could have just done this myself but I wanted to get him involved and collaborate on something I was making. I’ll never forget going into his saw dust-covered garage and looking at insanely intricate and detailed carvings of wood that he would explain everything about, from inspiration down to why he chose the exact wood he used.

I’ll miss learning about and watching all the adventures he went on as well as those we shared. One time we met up when I was living in L.A. and we got into one of the most popular clubs downtown wearing neon shirts and gym shorts. We don’t know how we got in since there was a strict dress code. It was either because of who we were with or maybe we somehow slipped through the cracks but as we were leaving, the people being rejected outside were pissed that we got in looking the way we did. We were just cracking up walking away, still hearing one guy loudly argue with the bouncer while we were half a block down the road.

I’ll miss Vince and I’ll miss his presence like crazy, but I am so thankful and happy for all the memories he shared with us.

Vince was singular. He inspired me every time we hung out to live more fully - inviting me into the kaleidoscopic life he lived. School made me serious, and Vince reminded what all the hard work was for: to be playful, to be free, and to bring something new and exciting into the world.

Not only was he an adventurer, he was kind, funny, thoughtful, deeply reflective, and a good listener. He always made room for anyone to come along and have fun. He generated energy everywhere he went. I deeply admire the way he carried himself and treated others.

From dancing in Chocolate Heads, to climbing buildings, doing parkour on the giant marbles in engineering quad, doing ninja warrior around campus, using a VR treadmill, or just checking out his newest sculptures - every moment with him was an adventure. I was and always will be in awe of him.

It is an honor to have known you. I'll miss you Vince.

I love reading folks memories on here, and seeing how many folks he touched. Vince and I were thick as thieves our 5 years at Mines, monks at the monastery, he was my best friend. We lived larger than life when we could, and studied too much the rest of the time. We had countless adventures, achieved some of the highest academic marks, and constantly one-upped the last stunt. He was the best man at my wedding; his speech was (no surprise) funny, charming, and effortless. He forgave me for becoming boring, and not to be too in theme, it’s remembering the mundane things that have given me more comfort lately than thinking on the larger-than-life adventures. I hope some of these comfort you too: “Little things that made Vince the mensch”:
Vince knocked back two gallons of 2% milk a week at least. He would go through peanut butter almost as quickly, 15 oz of Kroger Natural Creamy a week, I think. Vince had impeccable dental hygiene (brush/floss/mouth-wash) and low-key shamed me into taking better care of my teeth. Vince wore pants the way normal folk go to fancy dinner; typically, there had to be an occasion not to wear athletic shorts. Vince was willing to walk in any weather, but was not too proud to take a ride if you’re going that way. Vince once guilted me into giving a stranger a ride to campus because she was late for a test and hitching a ride to the exam. Vince took cars cutting off pedestrians in cross-walks seriously. Vince was not a great accordion player (better than I was a banjo player), but was quite good at playing the theme song to the Claymation movie “Mary and Max” and played it often. I think there was a threshold where if a thing (a rock or a burl or bismuth or whatever) already had a cool shape, he’d leave well enough alone and not try to carve it. Vince and I got tired of turning away LDS missionaries that stopped by the apartment and made friends with several over the movie “Prince of Egypt”, shared Easter candy, and talked about their plans after mission. Bargain items at King Soopers used to be labeled “Woohoo!” which he would exclaim every time he picked up such an item. I once had just the bicycle seat of my bike stolen (sadists I assume), and he found me a replacement from some mall that was being demolished in Longmont. Vince had a soft spot for pugs, and enjoyed the video “Loca can’t fecking run”. Vince helped me search a U-Pull-&-Pay for the mirror I had knocked off a parked car tooling around on my bike. Vince often spoke well of his family, especially Lyd and Tom. Vince and I once put too much work (seriously weeks) into a cardboard boat for Edays; it sank immediately and we looked like dinguses. Vince had a bicycle that he took decent care of, but I only ever saw him roller-skate. Vince introduced me to a lot of music, but there was an insane amount of mileage out of the Bronson movie sound-track.
I’ll miss you bud.

Vince was the most interesting person I’ve ever known. It seemed like every time I saw him I learned some cool new fact about him or witnessed another impressive talent. A true renaissance man with a deep passion for knowledge. We first met through the climbing team at Stanford and instantly became close friends. Vince was always down for spontaneous adventures and became one of my favorite adventure buddy’s. He took me on wild tree climbs and crazy coastal adventures to secret beaches. We shared many great climbs together, such as the Freeblast on El Capitan, Cloud Tower in Red Rocks, and classics in Eldorado Canyon. Recently, he helped me apply and train for American Ninja Warrior. I loved his creative approach to training- using trees, buildings, and other surroundings to simulate obstacles. Best of all, Vince was the life of the party (though he was much more likely to be off adventuring than partying) . Whether it was silly faces in photos, artistic dance parties inside caves, or colorful homemade outfits, he always had a way of making people smile and bringing extra fun to any situation.
There’s so many amazing memories I could talk about, but I’ll start with this one for now. We were at Nomad, an outdoor event at Stanford. Part of the tradition involves people trying to climb a light pole. It’s very slippery. Many try, few succeed. After watching dozens of students struggle and fail at the challenge, Vince skates up to the pole and casually climbs it in his roller blades! I feel like this story represents Vince well: he was great at everything and always added his own unique style to whatever he did.

I met Vince when he was the TA for a chemistry class I was taking. He was a great teacher, but he became an even better friend. It's hard to imagine a more interested or more interesting person. His love of life and his ability to work on about 1000 fascinating projects at once was inspirational and unique. He had a sense of wonder and curiosity that it is rare to see survive past childhood. Vince made our world richer, more beautiful, and more interesting. I send my deepest condolences to his family and all those who loved him.

Vince was one of my dance partners for Contact Improv, a dance form where dancers maintain touch across different parts of their bodies while in liquid flow. Vince was always cheerful and kind, and had a smile on his face always, even under buckets of sweat. I was nervous to dance with someone who was so elegant and to pick up someone so much stronger than myself, but Vince made everything easy and a laugh. Even though he is one of the most multi-talented people I have ever and likely will ever meet, he never made anyone feel untalented. Vince made the people around him feel cared for and important. Being around Vince meant being asked how your day was, how you made your jewelry, and if you were having fun--and we always were. He would sneak in jokes between flips and flourishes, and I would leave class feeling so much better for it. From his impeccable and unique style to his surefooted and beautiful movements, Vince exuded confidence and comfort that radiated out to those lucky enough to be around him. We met during an incredibly difficult time of my life, and he made every day so much better.
Even after our class was over, I was so happy every time I saw Vince skating around campus, combining insane speed and wicked dance moves in a way that made you want to stop what you were doing and dance along. When he saw me, he always waved, with a big, genuine smile, then continued on his merry way, lighting up the arcades of the school with his joy. His outfits were somehow retro and futuristic, and always colorful, his jewelry often wooden and handcrafted. He inspired me to be a more authentic version of myself, because when you truly give in to your joy the way that Vince did, it makes those around you feel more real. He made others happy to be alive, he brightened the hallways of a school that could sometimes beat you down, and he did everything with a grin on his face.
The last time I spoke to Vince was at a dance recital this past school year, and he, in his usual manner, greeted me with a hug, asked how I was doing, and complimented my outfit. Everyone was happy to see him and feel seen by him, and he always left a place more happy and cheerful than he found it.
His instagram explanations of his art and adventures always brought me joy, and he was always willing to explain how he crafted or found or climbed something amazing. Before I met Vince, I didn't realize it was possible to be so amazing at art, science, dance, climbing, skating, fashion, kindness, and life in general. He opened my eyes to the possibility for greatness within every person.
I want to thank his family for raising such an amazing individual, and let them know just how deeply he touched everyone's lives, even those he was only in for a short time or in small ways. Even now I have not captured just how amazing Vince was to me and everyone around him, and I'm sure more memories of his incredible spirit will come to me as I think on him.

Vince was already the man, the myth, and the legend when I joined the Waymouth lab. It was hard to believe that all the stories I heard about him and his adventures could all belong to one person. After getting to know him, he was somehow even more than all that too. He always seemed to have new interests, hobbies, and creations. I will always admire his curiosity that led him to explore so many different parts of science and the world, and how he sought to unite his interests in such creative and artistic ways. Vince brought so much light and energy to the lab and everywhere else he went. I am so grateful to have known him. I am deeply sorry to all his loved ones and wish you all love and support.

I remember that during parties or fun nights at Stanford, I’d see this person dance and zoom around gracefully in roller skates, spreading awe and joy to all those that watched. I didn’t know who that was until later that it was Vince. We first met at Stanford Prison Renaissance Project and it wasn’t long until I realized Vince was not only extremely artistic and talented, but also was extremely kind and thoughtful. I miss you and we all will remember you, Vince.

Vince broke the mold. He can’t be compared to anyone else, or described in any number of thoughtful words.
When he’s not pouring himself into projects, he’s adventuring, laughing, or being incredibly thoughtful. After a long day of classes, he’d stay up late to bake an assortment of homemade quiches, and walk across town in the snow to share them (dressed in his standard winter attire: basketball shorts and a faux Dalmatian coat with purple trim)
Conversations with Vince are often sprinkled with puns and bouts of giggles, and you never really know what he’s going to come up with next. Vince’s creativity is boundless, and the world is his playground.
Vince has the most infectious smile, and shares his passion and genuine excitement for anything and everything with those around him.
After graduation, we spent a couple weeks driving across the country in Vince’s van, and I swear we stopped at every pastry shop, fruit stand, or large tree between Colorado and the Carolinas. I think of Vince every time I have a donut, or see a burl on a tree (“woah cool, that would be so fun to carve!”)
I’m so thankful for the years we spent together in college, countless happy memories, and the profoundly positive impact he made on my life.
I hope he knows how much he means to me, and to everyone, and that he is missed.
Sending love to his wonderful family

vince was like no one ive ever met. he was unapologetically himself because he had nothing to apologize for. you couldn’t meet another vince if you tried because originality came naturally to him. speaking for everyone who came across his presence by chance, we all are inspired by someone who lived a life so intentionally unintentional. doing the things he loved in every moment without a second thought. if there was something else vince would rather be doing, he damned well would have been doing it. forget a bed frame, hell, forget sleep altogether, he packed well over a lifetime into a van with some rotting wood and a pair of rollerblades. he made enough buttons alone to amass a museum (even if the buttons only had one hole and would never grace a garment). and, god forbid, enough jokes for me to make fun of and his mom to explain to me until they made sense and i felt like the silly one for ever doubting his sense of humor she so understood more than anyone else.

the last few times i saw vince was at stanford, catching him skating around campus or in the wood shop working on some project or another. we never were so surprised, really, to run into each other, and i think even in new zealand or elsewhere in the world the sentiment still rings true. the last time i mentioned vince was in the costume shop where we first went through the ringer together making silly things and being even sillier. i told my boss about his “ship of thesius” pants, and showed her my own “rome didn’t fall in a day” t-shirt. every time i mend it ill think of him, patching up his pants after his most recent scrape on an adventure or in a dance.

ColoRADo Trip report continued...

8/21
Wednesday had us heading towards South Arapahoe looking for views and garnets. We summited first and then Max and Vince took off to attempt the South to North peak speed record. I stayed to video, as well as get cold. The runners got 3rd and 4th all-time! The way down the mountain was spent searching for garnets and, though many were found, none were large enough to be particularly interesting. The best find of the day belonged to Vince via some particularly clear and beautiful pieces of quartz. The best comment of the day also belonged to Vince, dubbing Max’s habit of searching for rocks with his hands behind his back “Professor Manson mode”.

Continuing the rock theme, on our way back to Superior we stopped at a semi-abandoned quarry to search for flourite of “grape jolly rancher” quality. Some sand scrambling, barbed wire, and a rock pick later we found some, though it had softened due to weathering. We probably could have eaten it after all.

Arrival back at the Manson home came with science experiments. As Max and Vince discussed some explosive chemistry, I took a nap.

8/22
The “rest day”. Max slept in as Vince and I went for a run and an outdoor workout, followed by doing laundry – a feat of particular noteworthiness for us two heathens. Max’s awakening prompted The Fellowship of the Ring to be put on, and all was peaceful until the evening. Thus ensued the death of the rest day in the form of a pole vault training session (I beat my 2-months-of-high-school-pole-vault PR by 2 inches) and a ninja warrior course (Max and Vince were celebrities and incredible to watch, I was just there). Having properly activitied, all adventurers went to bed sore.

8/23
Waking up in the same condition, the crew wandered over to Estes Park and some crack climbing in Rocky Mountain. Collecting Subway on the way, the approach to the chosen area worked the bejeezus out of the group’s tired legs, resulting in a less-than-fresh arrival at the already-occupied crag. Switching to the next route over, J-Crack, we all got put to work on 3 pitches of technical hand crack. The comedic peak of the adventure had to be my arrival at the overhung final stretch of pitch 2. Max had fallen while leading the section and Vince had pulled through the placed gear, my job was to clean up said gear. However, Max’s fall combined with Vince’s tugging to result in some genuine, though undoubtedly hilarious-looking, struggles to remove the pieces. This culminated with both of my feet above my head, shaking the end of a cam like a rabid dog with two hands, and cussing out the entire rock face as Vince and Max looked on with big ol’ smiles from above.

Returning to the ground, we all happily ate our sandwiches and tromped back to the car. We stayed in Estes for an hour or so eating ice cream, as well as checking out the local toy store (where Max and Vince both proceeded to attack me and each other with hand puppets), watching elk in the middle of the local market, and buying way too much taffy. We returned home to the first half of The Two Towers, a family reunion, and a night out in Boulder. We joined several of Max’s friends, first at a bar and later at a dance club. The group had a blast and danced the night away with a combination of Vince’s signature style, Max’s friend’s ’stir the pot’ move, and the worm. We were planning on rising at 5 AM, but we were having too much fun and only called it a night once 1 AM rolled around.

8/24
5 AM came wayyyy too quickly. Max went off to deliver food to a hut in the mountains and Vince and I headed towards the DeCaLiBron 14ers. It was Grandpa Boeschen's 80th birthday, so we brought four pieces of paper to write down a birthday message for him. The pictures of Vince and I holding up “Happy” “80th” “Birthday” “Grandpa!” from each respective summit were a big hit. We had nearly made it back to the car when the sky opened up and incited a 30-meter dash to escape the rain. Perfect timing. We all reconvened at a Chipotle in town where Max, having called us with no reply multiple times, searched the parking lot until he spotted us both asleep in our seats in the car. Later, at Max’s grandparents’ house once more, we all sat by the fire and chatted as I played guitar and Pat went fishing in the evening light.

8/25
My final day in the Centennial State. After sleeping off the previous day’s lack thereof, I realized it was Vince’s birthday and promptly spilled the beans to everyone else. Amy found some party supplies to throw in the air and we stuck a candle in Pat’s catch from the night before. It was the best birthday trout I’ve ever had the honor of witnessing, and I was informed by the non-vegetarians in the crowd that it was quite yummy as well. We then headed towards the Flatirons. After meeting up with some friends we started the scramble up the Slab. Vince kept my slow-poke self company the whole way up and coached me through some of the trickier sections, even after I chose to get roped up. After topping out, we did some sport climbing before hiking back out, as the birthday boy Vince was not allowed to belay.

That evening we got to the bus stop early to drop me off, but watched from the car as the bus pulled in, didn’t stop, and pulled right back onto the highway. We immediately followed, declaring that “of course, it wouldn’t be us if the adventure didn’t end with something to get the adrenaline flowing”. After chasing the bus down the highway, we pulled in at the next stop right as it was about to leave. I hopped out to flag the bus down and Vince got out to toss me my bag. “I love you guys!” I yelled, and I got on board.

To attempt to sum up all the wonderful time I spent with Vince would be like trying to capture the ocean in a sippy cup. Suffice it to say that I loved him as a brother and will miss him every day. Here is a summary of my last week with Vince, and all the wonderful times and shenanigans therein.

The so-named ColoRADo Trip report (8/18-25/24):

8/18
I arrived at Max’s via airplane, bus, and Max’s car in the late evening. By some miracle, Vince arrived only 10 minutes later, a scheduling feat of luck that could never and has never been accomplished by planning. Dinner was followed by brief hangboarding, not-so-brief commentary on the sorry state of my love life, and bed.

8/19
Eldorado Canyon ho! The 6 pitches of The Yellow Spur were first on the agenda, all of which went smoothly after the first. I decided overgripping and forgetting how to climb were the best ways to start the route and therefore took a fall just after the start of the first pitch. This would have been fine, except Vince was climbing right next door on another rope. I pendulummed into Vince’s rope, spun around it, and trapped both of us in a tensioned rope battle against an overhang. Commentary ensued about how “this was not supposed to be a partner climb” as Vince and I did something resembling a tango to get unstuck. Vince used my shoulders as handholds and climbed onward, I remembered how to climb and followed. The rest of the Spur was uneventful, with the minor exception of me knocking out a lens of my glasses while yanking on a stuck cam. The cam was collected, the glasses (now glass, singular) were put in a pocket.

We moved on from the Spur to The Bastille for some single pitch climbing. Max tried a heinous offwidth, I tried to dyno out of a toe hook, and Vince actually climbed the routes like he was supposed to. We’re not sure what got into him. Interestingly, these climbs were belayed from across a dirt road, so cars actually drive under your rope while you climb. Though that would seem to disturb the ambiance, the nearby river and comfy stone wall to belay from more than made up for it. Storms emerged right as we were coiling our rope and rain motivated us back to the car.

Lunch called, and afterward we walked to the local playground. Shenanigans ensued. We started by climbing a rope ‘spider structure’ and discovering that if we all rocked and jumped back and forth that we could cause a flinging effect on each other similar to a double-bounce on a trampoline. Amazingly, we all managed to stay on. The next event – we had begun to consider this the Playground Olympics – was attempting to go fast enough on the zipline to hit the far end and then return to the starting position. Body swinging, pushing, and many more methods were attempted until Vince achieved victory for the whole team with a distinctly Spider-Man-esque upside down technique. The aerodynamic benefits of this choice baffled the resident Aero/Astro student. Tight-rope walking, surf-swinging, monkey bars, and more soon followed, but the headline event was the game of circular tag that was played on a cylindrical structure of metal bars.

Our three contestants started equidistant and monkeyed around the bars trying to catch each other and avoid being caught in turn. I got eliminated rather quickly but became the announcer as rain started to fall, adding an element of slippage to the challenge. Max and Vince were remarkably well matched, and the chase lasted for several minutes. As the announcer can’t remember who fell first, let’s consider it an exhausted draw. On the walk back, an offwidth crack on the school building was contemplated in true buildering fashion; face-jams, three-fist-jams (one each from Vince, Max, and I), wiggling, and more were all attempted. Rainbows accompanied us back home.

8/20
We woke up at the house of Max’s grandparents in Silverthorne having driven up the night before. Max went out to fish in the river behind the house. Max didn’t catch anything, but Vince juggled rocks after he and I gave up on finding any flat enough to skip. We drove to Fulford Cave and entered through a section of corrugated pipe, following the most ridiculous looking map that had attempted to display a 3D cave system on a 2D surface. Waterfalls were found, narrow tunnels were wiggled through, and I, aided by Vince, quoted roughly half of the Lord of the Rings trilogy (and in the process discovered that Max had not seen the movies). I sang several songs in several sections of the cave, including "The Night We Met” in the largest cavern while all of the group’s lights had been turned off. The echo amidst the absolute darkness was magical.

However, that was not the only musical moment in the caves. Upon reaching the 'Sacrifice Slab’, the whole group danced to “The Ends of the Earth” following Vince’s artistic lead. Any and all Stanford dance instructors would have been 1/3rd impressed – Max and my performance should be described as minimally as possible. After some dubious route-finding through the ‘moonmilk caverns', we emerged from the cave into beautiful aspen trees and, as I proclaimed at least, the “most beautiful deproach ever experienced”. Scrubbing off one layer of dirt in a nearby creek, we went to meet my uncle for dinner in Eagle before returning to Silverthorne.

Continued...

I can’t understate how much I (and so many others) will miss Vince. Vince had such a tenacious creative spirit and was always working on something mind-blowingly cool. His relentless pursuit of creating cool things made him so inspiring to be around. He will be missed more than I can say.

Spending time with Vince was effortless - he had so many talents to share, stories to tell, and plans for adventures yet to be had. I’ll always remember the time he organized a roller skating group to zoom across campus with the traveling party Nomad. He socialized, danced, and chased down the motorized go-kart - all on roller blades. He was genuinely kind and always made me feel welcome - a remarkable feat given how much of our time together was spent doing things I’d never done before. I am so grateful for the four short months I knew him.

Vince is a legend

Mystical artist interested in everything and also doing everything. He inspires me and has since I met him

We’d go to the trampoline park together, he’d always get me in free. He’s always so curious how to do this trick or that, inventing new ones, comfortably challenging each other to see what we could do next. I remember thinking, I wish I had more friends like Vince, people who are ready to play, try new things, and encourage each other to do so.

Vince got me into trail running after a Santa Cruz king tide adventure. He would always invite me to come skate at Nomad. I’ll never forget when we jumped off the Stanford high dive.. I can’t imagine a more radical human and friend

He does it all, and is fully present in every experience. I’ve always had so much to learn from Vince and I’ll adventure in his honor.

And here are just a few snapshots of wonderful memories dancing with Vince:

Vince was such a beautiful soul and incredible Renaissance man, and I am so sad for his loss, not just for myself and all his friends and family, but for the world that won’t get to see the incredible art I know he would have continued to create, from his gorgeous wood sculptures, fashion design, dance, and feats of athleticism.

I first met Vince years ago in Chocolate Heads and was amazed at how he made roller skating an art form. We were all in awe of him, a chemistry PhD with so many talents that we’d learn about one by one like the layers of an onion. First he wore clothes and jewelry he’d made himself. Then he casually mentioned a wood sculpture he’d made was being shown, and several dancers went over to see it and our jaws hit the floor. I genuinely believe he would have been famous for his sculptures, so full of embodied emotion and movement and seemingly impossible to create.

I recently had the pleasure and honor of getting to collaborate on developing choreography inspired by the Rodin sculptures at Stanford, and seeing him and bouncing ideas off each other and just existing in a joyful, curious, embodied space together was always a highlight of my week. Almost anyone else would have balked at the lack of structure, the crazy ideas, but he just said let’s try it and always jumped in with ‘what if we tried this too’ and those dance jams were pure joy for me.

Vince was always creating magic with what ifs. What if I danced with a discarded street lamp globe in the dark? What if this fallen tree could be an incredible sculpture? What if I tried out of American Ninja Warrior? I never knew what he’d create next, but I always knew I’d love it.

I will miss you Vince, as an artistic collaborator, coolest person I knew, and friend.

Vince was was an amazing and one-of-a-kind person. I truly enjoyed our laughs and conversations about art and life together. One thing I will always remember is how Vince used to come by Kristen and mine’s apartment with the weirdest fruits that he had found along the California coast, which we ended up naming ‘fruit festivals.’ He was always so ready to share his adventures and was such a genuine person. Sending strength to the family and everyone who knew Vince. He will truly be missed.

Vince was a superhero.

Larger than life. He urgently, passionately, relentlessly shared wonder, color, dance, humor, brilliance, joy, curiosity, and compassion with all of us. I am finding it almost impossible to write about Vince in the past tense. He made the present moment so intensely infinite.

Midnight rooftop climbs, hot-tub trespassing, backflips at Rockin Jump trampoline park in San Carlos. Contact improv, dance, circus. Surprising you with a handmade earring or a hand-picked pomelo. Vince showed up for you—with style, unapologetic absurdity, dazzling spectacle, warmth, gentleness, care, and love. A superhuman heart.

Vince was a big part of inspiring me to study Chemical Engineering. (Will never forgive him for that one!) He also gave me tools to look at everyday things as more than everyday things. To Vince, every tree could be: a jungle gym, a carving medium, a source of seeds you could dry and bake into a chocolate bar, something to sit under with a good friend and a contemplate a question like: “What if we made roller skates for our hands and knees so we could skate around at ground level?”

Vince had a piercingly clear analysis of justice. He was an inspiration to all of us in how to treat everyone with dignity, and how to dance, carve, and dream towards a better world. Though I don’t know if he would have used these words, I personally think Vince’s vision for a more just and joyful future was both radical and revolutionary.

Just as he turned his PhD thesis defense into a space-themed costume party, I imagine he would want us all to be celebrating his memory in joyful community, together in all our unabashed weirdness and beauty.

Vince is now an astronaut booping around in space, skating around the rings of Saturn and making satellite-sized sculptures out of Cold War-era Soviet space junk.

I am so grateful to have been among those in his orbit here on Earth.

I am profoundly grateful to all of Vince’s family and friends who have organized this page.

I miss him so much. He would have been able to give a really great hug right now.

Last summer I had the privilege of going on an incredibly fun and endlessly silly backpacking trip with Lyd and Vince. Vince was the type of person who could make anyone laugh and made the adventure one I will cherish forever. Thank you for protecting us from the scary mouse in Lyd’s car and for all of the light you shared with the world. You are so missed and so loved, Vince.

Vince has always been inspiring to me. He is incredible in that he can be a great chemist, artist, and ninja warrior all at the same time. I remember seeing him carving wood on campus. I remember seeing him climbing trees around the chemistry building. I remember seeing him taking NMR and changing liquid helium. They all seem just happening yesterday. I still have his business card, which he dropped in the lab recently...RIP VInce.

Vince had such beautiful mind and heart. He loved the world with unabashed vigor and joy. I feel very lucky to have seen him shine.

RIP Vince. You're memory will be charished for ages to come.

This is truly tragic. I’m so sorry to hear this. It is a loss that’s hard to comprehend. I didn’t know Vince for a super long time, but it only took a few minutes of meeting him to know how unique of a person he was. Every time I saw him at rehearsal, I learned a new, completely surprising facet of his personality. He had more interests and passion for life in any given moment than most people could hope for across their lifetime. He was warm and inviting, with seemingly unending energy to give to everyone he interacted with at Chocolate Heads. We are lucky to have known him.

Sending you all love.

Judy

This is truly heart wrenching to hear.
It feels unreal to think that someone who seemed to always be around one way or another is gone.
I remember first joining chocolate heads and Vince being one of the first people I got to meet. Getting to learn how someone can be so multifaceted and so curious is something I’m grateful to have been exposed to. From dancing, to sculpting wood, to being in American Ninja Warrior three times, to working on his doctorate, Vince seemed to always be pursuing something. I was lucky to get to share in these experiences once in a while. Getting to learn how to be more ‘acrobatic’ in chocolate heads with him, him being one of my students in my ceramics class and sharing one of my passions, even getting together with other dancers and lab partners online to support him in his ninja warrior debut, all of these memories of his pursuit of happiness show his impact to those around him and the memories that he will live through. My sincerest condolences to his loved ones, and may he be remembered for the happiness that he shared.

Sincerely,
Journey

Wow. I met Vince my freshmen year while learning how to skate in Wilbur field in 2021. He was so friendly and taught me a few tricks. He told me about the exciting work he was doing with Chocolate heads and invited me to the first meeting just to see if it was for me.
Because of his openness and consideration, I was able to heal through dance that year and be a part of this wonderful community. This loss is a real shock. Vince continued to be a warm presence and friendly face throughout my four years at Stanford.

I can't imagine not seeing him around anymore, but I recognize that he has contributed an unending amount of love, kindness, and inspiration to everyone he has met, and it is our responsibility to continue that in his spirit.

Sending you all so much love, please reach out if you need any support or want to talk about grief.

Oh my goodness?!
I’m in complete shock!
Vince was someone I looked up to as an example of how to be alive as possible. He was so, so alive. He went for everything.
He sent me a very thoughtful compliment after our Riot performance released. I still think of it sometimes. This feels very unfair and I can’t believe it. I will send more memories shortly.

I learned about Vince's death yesterday from Aleta and I am still in disbelief and denial that this is real. I pulled out some videos on my phone of Vince making up a warm up for our Circus Arts Intensive two years ago, both of us laughing, dancing in the Roble Arts gym. It just doesn't seem real, a big stupid joke.

I've always considered Vince a great friend and a person I respect and admire deeply. He was very open, warm, funny and weird in the best possible definition of weirdness! Living life to the beat of his own drum! We shared a lot in college: always shared a laugh, shared a stage, shared doing workshops together, meals, jokes, practices! Campus wouldn't be campus for me without him roller skating around in his handmade clothes and jewelry smiling with that radiant smile he had. I remember working with him on Circus Arts Intensive and he was the best partner ever, making up and doing crazy ideas for our program - one of the biggest joys in my life. Jumping off sculptures, carving wood, climbing trees. How we sprinted on a cart holding frozen nitrogen stolen from Stanford lab to get to our circus crew and give them a nitrogen ice cream workshop. Vince laughed and drove! He just kept doing it! How he impressed an Australian director and everybody from the cast climbed off of him from a giant grid in front of thousands of people. He proved himself many times! He was a magnificent individual, a true Renaissance person, which is so RARE in this world. I've always thought that our lives would cross again, years after now and we would collaborate on some insane creative project. But he was also gentle and, despite being a superhuman he was, he was also a complex person, with his joys and struggles. In those moments of sincerity, I saw a big heart, longing for connection, warmth. It is terrible, truly terrible.

I am angry and mad at this tragedy. I looked up to Vince as a creative person, to his dedication, curiosity and his mad free spirit. The lost potential is soul crashing ! The world truly lost someone irreplaceable. I've never met anyone like him and I will never forget Vince.

I love everybody! Hug to all of you from overseas. Chocolate Head is always a Chocolate Head.

I first met Vince in the early days of the Covid pandemic, while Stanford's campus was almost completely shut down. Vince had just been accepted to compete on American Ninja Warrior season 13. I had competed in season 11, and somebody had told Vince he should talk to me to get the low-down. I recall being skeptical before meeting him. I had met other ANW aspirants from around Stanford, and my general impression was that they didn't usually have the chops to do well on "the Show," as people in that orbit call it.

My skepticism quickly turned to surprise and respect. In our first in-person meeting, I showed Vince a variety of obstacles around campus I had concocted for training–swinging, jumping, and climbing across the abandoned buildings. I thought of many of them as fairly challenging, but Vince passed through them all easily. As we sat at the back side of Windover (a bizarre art-gallery like edifice near Lake Lagunita), I recall nodding my head and saying something like, "You could do well on the Show. You could make finals for sure."

I was right. During three subsequent seasons of ANW Vince did very well, making it to the National Finals in his most recent appearance. He and I did a lot of training and adventuring together following that first meeting. We frequented climbing and ninja gyms, and I watched him go from strength to strength in both sports. We discovered the joys of hitting the local trampoline park early in the day before schools get out, when you can have the entire place to yourself. We experimented with parkour, and for a time ran a TikTok account of our escapades around campus. Vince was my most steadfast and capable adventure partner, always willing to try something new.

I got to know the rest of Vince from our car rides together to the aforementioned outings. As everyone who knows him well can attest, Vince is an extremely multifaceted character. His day job was as a chemistry Ph.D. student, but he rarely had time to talk much about that. He had too many other things to tell you. He danced with the Chocolate Heads troupe and composed videos of his own solo choreography. He made his own clothes and jewelry out of any and every material you can imagine (e.g. old curtains, wood, abalone shell). He was fascinated by anatomy and by dendrology (the study of trees), as well as sustainability-adjacent fields. And most of all he loved to carve.

I did not appreciate the significance of carving to Vince until long into our friendship. In his own words, carving was the most important of his many passions. It was the one thing he never tired of, the one thing which perpetually kept him grounded. It was what brought him through his darkest times. And in the year after finishing his Ph.D. work it had been his main focus.

I did not appreciate the significance of carving to Vince because to me he seemed so intensely focused on athletics. But I suppose his friends from the dance world would also be surprised to know that dance was not his primary passion. Vince had a special capacity to wear many hats simultaneously. I think part of his secret was that he only slept about six hours each night. I valued his patience as I sluggishly dragged myself out on many mornings to embark on some wild shenanigans.

One could often find Vince carving at a cluster of picnic tables near EVGR B in the early morning, before it got too hot. He made many friends of people who stopped to inquire what he was doing. He kept an assortment of wood pieces nearby, an eclectic mix from many trees and shrubs of far reaches of the world which he collected on his travels. Many of his intricate sculptures featured dozens of sources of wood.

His favorite of his own artworks was called Pabulum. It depicted a child kneeling with cupped hands to draw water. The piece was an outgrowth of work Vince did with the prison outreach program Prison Renaissance. The sculpture required wood from 56 logs and (as I recall) about of year of careful artisanship. Children feature prominently in other of Vince's works. The morning after I heard about Vince's death, I opened a Bible at random and immediately came upon Matthew 18:3-4:
And he [Jesus] said: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."

Vince was child-like in his humility, in his wonder, and in his love for all people and all creation. His is a life that was full to the brim, a life we can aspire to. He has carved eternal impressions upon all of our hearts.