one of my Stories
In Memoriam - Chris Lang
In the Spring of 2014, I moved to the town of Orinda, California, where I knew no one - with the exception of my wife and two young daughters. I was taking on a new job with a heightened level of pressure, had left a great community of friends on the East Coast, and soon felt my life unravelling; horribly, overwhelmingly, and uncontrollably. I encountered what severe depression looks and feels like.
While out on a walk with my family through the new neighborhood, the first person I met was Chris Lang. We connected over Chicago and a love of basketball, and within 20 minutes realized we had two friends in common. It's hard to out-network a networker, and there was no way to top Chris.
When I say Chris Lang helped me survive, I don't do this lightly. I was soon in a dark place, and unable to get myself moving forward. If you've ever been around someone who is struggling with depression, you know it can be difficult to hear the same lament, or put up with someone's constant melancholy.
Despite our not having a long-standing friendship, Chris kept reaching out, inviting me to events where I'd meet other people (dinners, cornhole tourneys, school fundraisers), or to play ping pong, HORSE, or watch a game. He helped arrange car pools for my kids, and he became the snarky and loving adopted uncle my kids loved.
Through the years, I was fortunate to feel my emotional state moving to a better place. And part of this was because of the consistency of being together, high school sports games, bad dad jokes, competition with our kids, Protestant/Catholic dialogue, movie quotes, 70s/80s music, and more.
When Chris died suddenly of a heart attack in 2021, he left a giant hole in this world. He is one of the best men I have met. He is the type of coach you want for your kids, and the friend you are so grateful to have. Chris deeply valued people, integrity, laughter, teamwork, selflessness, community, and generosity.
I am grateful for him—and the many like him who have been friends over my lifetime.
-Jim Brommers Bergquist