Remembering Bridget
Bridget Colleen O’Brien was born in 1981 in Las Vegas. She was the oldest of three children. In her 26 years, she lived in Las Vegas, San Jose, Denver, Tucson and briefly in Reno, before moving to Carmichael, Calif. Aside from living in Los Angeles while attending UCLA, Bridget also lived and worked in Valparaiso, Chile; Managua, Nicaragua; Washington, D.C.; New York; Paris, France; and Melbourne, Australia.
She graduated from Rio Americano High School in 1999 and attended UCLA, where she majored in geography and worked as a copy editor, reporter, photographer and photo editor for the Daily Bruin. She won numerous photography awards, and was voted Most Valuable Staff Member for two years in a row in 2000-01 and 2001-02. Before graduating in 2003 she became a Bruin legend by living mostly out of her 1988 Toyota pickup, foregoing the relative comfort of an apartment in Westwood in order to save money for travel.
In Central America, she reported on the fair trade coffee movement while living with coffee farmers. The story was published in USA Today and The Bruin. In her professional career, she covered a gamut of events and issues all over the globe as a freelance photographer for Newsday and the New York Times. On the morning of Thursday, Oct. 18, 2007, Bridget and her husband, Hayden Sweeney, died in a car accident when she swerved to avoid a deer on a highway near Cleveland. She had been traveling cross-country with Hayden’s band from Australia, Electric Jellyfish, who were touring the United States.
Bridget & The Foundation
Established in memory of Bridget O’Brien, a talented young photojournalist who dedicated her life to storytelling. While at UCLA, her work represented student journalism at its very best — ambitious, enlightening, captivating. After graduation, she pursued her passion across the globe until her death in 2007. She will always be a reminder that we can change the world through a little bit of adventure and a whole lot of honesty.
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122 Comments
I loved Bridget’s last quarter at UCLA where she slept on couches and (sometimes) in her truck.
We are fortunate Tyson Evans still had the following email she sent after that quarter. It says so much about who she was - the whole apartment hopping concept, her upcoming travels after graduation… One thing I loved so much about her, as she put it, was her lack of being a “conformist”.
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I knew Bridget better in class than at the Bruin. We wrote a paper (on BruinGo) together during that quarter before she left, in a geography class we took because we had a shared interest in cities and traffic. My clearest memory with her was a day-long bus trip around the city that took us to the port, a mixed-use development on the red line, and the Alameda corridor. It’s often so difficult to find people with whom we can share those odd little things - and Bridget was so good at doing that for so many people.
The first time I remember meeting Bridget was during the summer of 2000, after I joined the Daily Bruin staff and was working for the Viewpoint section. We didn’t have enough op-ed submissions or letters to publish, so we resorted to a “Speaks Out,” section, which, for those of you unfamiliar with The Bruin, is basically a box with pictures of, and quotes from, students responding to a question on a pressing campus issue. Bridget, of course, was the photographer. My “pressing campus issue”: the importance of genetically engineered vegetables or something of that nature, I think. I don’t remember the question so much as the fact that Bridget gave me one of her patented “that-sounds-so-stupid-but-let’s-get-this-over-with” looks that would become so familiar to me during our Daily Bruin years. Her eyebrows would sink slightly, she would stop blinking, and then briefly stare at you right in the eye – not for too long, but just long enough to concretely make her point. There was no point in trying to rebut the look, since she was always right.
Perhaps among my favorite memories, though, is the time she helped me move a couch across Manhattan in her little brown truck. I saw the couch on craigslist and told Bridget about it – after some initial skepticism, she agreed to help me retrieve it. Relying on my solid journalistic instinct, I took the couch owner’s driving instructions at face value and did not ask how big the couch was to see if it would fit in the truck (it didn’t), through my apartment door (it didn’t, until we broke off a piece of the leg), or in my living room (it barely did). It was only until I got there I found out I would have to carry it down several flights of stairs with Bridget, since the building had no elevator. You might have guessed by now that the driving instructions given to me by the clueless couch owner included several instances where we were instructed to turn the opposite way on one-way streets. Bridget, though, remained patient – until we turned onto the street where the apartment allegedly was, were blocked in by a garbage truck, and then found out (after calling the girl telling her we didn’t see her apartment) that she had given us the wrong address. Yes, that is when our beloved Bridget cursed the clueless Manhattanite with a seemingly innate talent that only ages of Irish oppression could have refined. Eventually, though, we got to the woman’s house. Bridget figured out how to tie the couch inside the truck so that it would dangle out, but didn’t fall, and we made it back home. I think few people would have put up with that madness and still talked to me afterward, but Bridget was that sort of patient, chill, loving person.
An obituary ran in today’s Sacramento Bee:
Published in the Sacramento Bee on 10/20/2007.
Even though Bridge worked on the copy desk with me for a year, I think I spoke with her more on the baseball diamond when we both played on the Daily Bruin intramural softball team. It was usually just the two of us girls and the teams we played were never actually “co-ed.” I remember one game, when Bridge went to the plate for the first time.
“Girl batter, move up, move up,” someone in the outfield yelled, and everyone took about ten giant steps forward. Well, Bridge hit the first pitch way over their heads. They had barely gotten the ball back by the time she rounded home.
I went to graduate school with Cuauhtemoc, who had the sense to introduce Bridget to our small circle of friends during our first year. It took five, maybe ten minutes for me to decide that I loved her. She showed up to Cuauhtemoc’s birthday party–70+ first-year law students crammed into a tiny NYC apartment; even Steve Irwin wouldn’t have ventured into such dangerous waters–and took in the scene (and the tequila) without batting an eye. The rest of the night carried on in the same fashion, culminating in a Sunday brunch that was full of comical adventures as only Bridget would be able to recount them.
That was her way, I came to learn. She struck this wonderful balance between intelligence, fearlessness, and irreverence that not only produced amazing exploits and stories, but made her (easily) one of the most interesting people I’d have had the pleasure of knowing. I will miss her unexpected visits to town (”Bridget is in Manhattan for 14 hours”) and learning of her whereabouts.
Every time she made it to our side of town, merriment (and hilarity) was pretty much guaranteed to ensue. Though we weren’t classmates, I can’t separate Bridget from the small group that helped keep me from losing my mind during grad school.
I knew Bridget in a different way than those of you who’ve posted so far. She was my student. But given that I was not too much older than her at the time I knew her, I always thought of her more as a little sister. And even though she had traveled far from Westwood in these recent years, she had remained in my thoughts.
I first met Bridget before I had become adviser to Student Media at UCLA. I was teaching copy editing and design workshops for Daily Bruin students on weekends, and Bridget was a student in my copy editing workshop. I was really impressed by this because Bridget was a photographer, and in my day at the Daily Bruin, other sections gave copy very little respect or attention, let alone would someone from another section have submitted herself to 16 hours of copy editing training on Saturday mornings just to learn more about the topic.
The next year, I came to UCLA full-time to advise the Daily Bruin and other media, and my realtionship with Bridget grew. That first year, I remember Bridget with a long, pretty braid. She would come into my office often to talk to me about her aspirations. And just recounting that fact makes me so emotional now. I remember giving her the same advice I gave other students like her, which was to shoot for the moon, not to be intimidated by the reputations of big newspapers or the seeming impossibility of getting this or that internship. Bridget went so beyond the moon – it’s inspiring to me. And her story of success in following her dreams has been one I’ve recounted to students over the years to help inspire them, too.
I feel so incredibly fortunate to have been a part of her life at the time when she was growing from a braid-wearing girl into a confident and passionate young woman and deciding what path she was going to pursue. I will continue to share her story with all of those students, like her, who come into my office to ask me questions about their future, and in this way (and in so many others that all of you will engage in) Bridget will continue to live and inspire so many other young people.
I still have a recommendation I wrote for Bridget when she was applying for an internship at the Washington Post. Below are some excerpts from that letter:
“… (Bridget) has impressed me as a versatile, open-minded and conscientious student journalist who shows a genuine interest in the news and a commitment to broadening her experience.
I first met Bridget before I was adviser, when I was teaching copy editing workshops on the weekends for UCLA Student Media. Bridget was The Bruin’s photo editor at the time, but had decided to take the copy editing class to gain some newsroom perspective. I was immediately impressed by Bridget’s willingness to devote 16 hours of her time to an unrequired, unpaid, not-for-credit workshop, and was even more impressed by the appreciation she expressed for copy editing and sincerity with which she approached learning. Such a bold show of support from the newsroom was not something the Daily Bruin copy desk was accustomed to. I think in this way, Bridget was an early pioneer in The Bruin’s newsroom, opening doors between departments and encouraging communication and collaboration.
Now, as the adviser to The Bruin, I have grown in my appreciation and admiration for Bridget as a person, photographer and copy editor. Bridget is truly a well-rounded journalist, having solid experience in both photography and copy editing. After her year as photo editor, Bridget has done double duty as a photographer and copy editor, proving her ability to juggle multiple tasks and work with both words and images. Bridget’s photos are award-winning. She has a kind, gentle spirit that I think helps photo subjects to trust her and enables her to quietly observe and capture honest moments. …
Bridget succeeds wherever she applies herself and is an ambassador of good will at the Daily Bruin. …”
Please know that my thoughts and prayers are with all of you who have lost a friend, daughter, sister, granddaughter, daughter-in-law. I am mourning with you. So many people loved Bridget, and that is really testament to the love she gave.
Bridget packed more in 26 years than most people do in a lifetime, and that’s what I’ll remember about her most. She was seemingly always on the go, seeing new places and taking on new projects that would make most people wonder how she could pull it all off; but Bridget was the type of person where if she wasn’t keeping 10 or 12 plates spinning at the same time, she was practically idle.
She also had great insight into what people were about. I appreciated that because as a cocky young frosh at the Daily Bruin, I spent a lot of my time offending most of the female staff with suggestive banter, and she was one of a handful of people who didn’t turn away in disgust but essentially saw a harmless kid trying too hard to be liked. Her subtle assurance helped me shed a lot of bravado, and the occasional eye roll coupled with a playfully pained-sounding “Rob …” was all the reminder I needed to stay within myself.
When it came to The Bruin, her photos and other work spoke for itself. But I think a true testament to her time there was the Most Valuable Staff Member award she received at the conclusion of the 2001-02 year. It was an obvious choice then, but now, after several years have gone by, I realize more and more how much she was the glue that kept that staff together during what was a tumultuous year. She did it out of love for what The Bruin represented, and even more out of love for all the people who had spent so many days, nights and missed classes in the trenches with her trying to put out the paper.
Bridget was also one of the best journalists, photo- or otherwise, I’ve ever known. A lot of reporters incorrectly see photographers as accessories to getting the story, when a good amount of the time they’re the ones actually getting the story. Again when I was a frosh, she set me straight on this point more than a few times, and after I quickly determined that she was much, much smarter than me, I stopped arguing and began to really admire and appreciate the way she went about her work.
She had a full-bodied laugh that was unmistakably hers. And in routinely ordering white rice with a packet of soy sauce, she found what was arguably the one healthy choice at the Panda Express in Ackerman Union.
I would just like to add humility to the list of remarkable characteristics.
One time, I was chatting with another photog about some of the battles I had waged with staffers in my time as managing editor. I observed that I was not one of those people that everyone liked, unlike say, Bridget (who was sitting nearby).
She argued vehemently with me, that she was the type of person that everyone liked. But she was, whether she was willing to concede as much or not. Like I said, humility.
I remember the first time I met Bridget. One of those DB wild nights at Rob and Kelly’s Kelton apartment after Bridget had just returned from one of her world adventures. I had a teeny bit much to drink and I remember Bridget taking care of this inexperienced bruin newbie whom she didn’t even know all night long. It was a little thing, but I’ve never forgotten it.
Too hard to come up with adjectives to describe Bridget. They all fall short. I’m sticking with the memories, like the group weekend in Joshua Tree; the “Impeach Bob” movement (Kelly had a t-shirt with this slogan on it); and the time she finagled a press pass to an XFL game in L.A., which included getting a picture of herself with Vince McMahon.
There was also the time I exploited her for an article about college students earning diplomas with Arnold Schwarzenegger’s signature on them. Bridget’s date of graduation meant she was in the first batch of students to get the Terminator’s name on their diploma. Not only did she let me “interview” her — really it was just two friends chatting on the phone — she met me and the photog on campus, brought her diploma, and let herself be photographed with it. (I put the picture in the flickr stream.)
Most importantly, however, she delivered the money quote for this story that I think speaks volumes about her. Bridget did not support the recall election and did not have a high opinion of Governor Schwarzenegger. “It kind of makes the diploma seem like a joke that an action hero has signed and validated it,” she said. “I got a BA in geography, but I think my diploma is BS.”
Not only did she say this, knowing it would be published around the country and possibly subject her to scorn by who-knows-whom, but she got excited after saying it, realizing it would be great in the article. “You should use that!” she told me. Are you sure, I asked, people are going to read this, they might get angry that you said something like that. But she brushed that right off, like, who cares?
Which goes to show the attitude and spirit that everyone else has already mentioned. Bridget did what she felt she needed to with her life, and didn’t let anyone else tell her how things had to be. I’ll miss that.
I’ve been sitting here for an hour trying to put into words my experience with Bridget, yet everything I put down seems so inadequate. Most people know that I’m a brash person who’s a little rough on the edges. To say that I can be a pain to work with sometimes would be an understatement. Yet, Bridget never lost her patience with me. She would just give me a look and say “Eddddddd…” She also never took it to heart when I stormed out of the Daily Bruin frustrated (which has happened on more than one occasion).
Bridget also showed incredible calmness under pressure. September 11, 2001, was a day of tragedy and chaos. She was the Photo Editor while I was an Assistant Photo Editor that just started the job with little to no experience. To put it bluntly, I was basically freaking out. Bridget, on the other hand, remained calm throughout the day. What I remember most though, is that towards the evening, some issue came up where someone wanted her to do something related to a photograph that was in the ethically grey area. In this chaotic day most people would have just caved and done it – blaming the tragedy for any errors caused. Certainly no one would have held it against her if she had caved. However, Bridget stood her ground and refused to do it. It was only a small moment yet it was a moment that I have always carried with me.
Bridget was also an amazing leader. As the Photo Editor she had to teach us Assistant Photo Editors how to edit and choose photos. One Sunday I was reviewing pictures I and another photographer had taken of a UCLA football game the day before. I didn’t know which pictures to choose and was basically drowning. Bridget told me to pick out some of the best pictures from the game. I came back with a few from the other photographer and a few from me. She then asked me why I liked each picture – never once giving her opinion. From then on I began to reason out why each picture should be included in there. In the end, however, I picked out three pictures, but all three pictures were shot by me. The next day, the situation blew up. The other photographer was mad that I didn’t even choose one of her pictures. She went to Bridget and complained about it. In retrospect, I wouldn’t have blamed Bridget if she apologized and told her things would be different next time. Instead, Bridget stood by me and said that it was my choice. Granted, I would have done things different the next time, but that loyalty was priceless. That is how leaders should lead.
I have always said the Daily Bruin was one of my best experiences at UCLA — that in no small part was because of Bridget.
I knew Bridget best through the time she spent with the copy desk. She was always sweet, humble and funny, and, of course, an excellent copy editor. Bridget would always devour a bag of Milano cookies with me, always chuckle at silly copy editor jokes, always keep everyone smiling, even if she had been stuck in the office for the past 16 hours. Her photographs were phenomenal–she had a rare grace that lent her the talent to create such brilliant art.
When she stayed with me and Sarah Balkin, she happily slept on our miniscule, cat-ravaged couch, and even though she was only there for a few days, insisted on making us (very tasty) brownies. Bridget–this world really will be a dimmer place without you. You had a one-of-a-kind knowledge of how to really live–and that’s more than most of us can say. We will remember you always.
My best memories of Bridget are intramural softball practices for the Rebel Media Warlords (the woman could play ball) and a truly excellent Bruin barbecue during my senior year.
I did not know Bridget as well as many of those who have already posted but I know she will always be remembered as a true individual, a skilled photojournalist and a valued friend and colleague to those who knew her.
Last Saturday, we received a surprise email from Bridget. They were in Omaha, en route to Chicago and wondered if we were free that weekend. In less than 12 hours, Bridget, Hayden and the rest of the wonderful guys in Electric Jellyfish descended on our doorstep. That night we stayed up until about 2 or 3am, just talking, drinking tea and recapping what had happened in the last 5 years. Before bed, Bridget stopped us in the hallway and said, “This is really cool, you know, that this isn’t WEIRD!” It certainly didn’t feel like 5 years had gone by at all. Bridget is one of those people who seems to be able to connect back with others, even over great distances of time or space. Like many of you whom have already posted, I always felt inspired by Bridget — she was always up to something interesting and eager to experience whatever came her way. And here she was, still following her creative intuition, managing the band while on leave from her photography work. The morning they departed, Bridget was wearing an Electric Jellyfish band shirt — “they have backbones”, she pointed out on one of the squiggly jellyfish designs. We sat in the kitchen and talked about diving. She said she wanted to see the Great Barrier reef sometime after she returned to Australia. She hadn’t changed — she was the same down-to-earth adventurer I remembered. We went out for $1.50 brunch tacos, and they came back to our place to pack. Bridget slept in one of our sleeping bags — in the morning she said, “Oh yeah, I found these,” as she held up a crusty pair of socks I had apparently forgotten in the bottom of one of the bags. I was really embarassed, but Bridget just said, “I thought it was funny. I always forget my socks…”
I am grateful that I got to see Bridget again, and to meet Hayden, who was an absolute pleasure to be around. I know that Bridget and the rest of the band were very excited to be heading east to meet up with many of you.
There’s not one anecdotal story that I can relay about Bridget. I remember her from numerous adventures throughout our high school, college and post college years.
I remember the many times we floated down the American River and never once tired of it.
I remember the long days working in a fireworks warehouse, where working in the office, Bridget had the power to schedule us for deliveries and would do so frequently. Some of the deliveries were actually with her and one time she and I stopped in San Francisco for lunch en route from Union City.
I remember Bridget flying to New York to meet us on our cross-country journey and sharing the road with us to DC.
I remember all the New Years Eves we spent in Tahoe and all the games we played while we were there.
I remember her photographing our annual Thanksgiving Day Turkey Bowls.
I remember the trip we took to UCLA in the summer for Kelly’s 21st Birthday.
I remember bidding her adieu in Santa Barbara before she and B-case drove her truck to New York. I accidentally swallowed a quarter that weekend.
I remember the time she visited me in San Diego when she was (not) living in her truck. We went and saw her cousin, Tommy Awesome, amateur pro wrestler, at a local community center.
I remember all the times we were bored in Sacramento and passed the time with disc golf, marco polo or monopoly.
I remember her at the three Electric Jellyfish shows that I saw.
I remember seeing her last in Las Vegas. She and the Jellyfish had just arrived from Tijuana. I could only imagine how much fun the Aussies were having their first time in America and being able to visit all these great cities. Leaving Las Vegas, I was talking with Bridget on the phone. She asked if I was going to go see them in New York and would not accept “no” for an answer.
I lost touch with Bridget after college, but she’ll always be part of some of my favorite memories from UCLA. Not only was she an immensely talented photographer and a dedicated copy editor, her blend of compassion, irreverence and free-spiritedness also endeared her to everyone she met.
I’ll remember Bridget as the girl who drank box wine and played ultimate Frisbee at 2 a.m. on the steps of Royce Hall; who snuck into an XFL game and somehow got a photo taken with her arm around Vince McMahon; who returned from the softball diamond with a shit-eating grin on her face after hitting a home run to defeat some unsuspecting frat.
Bridget, you were an amazing colleague and friend. You’ll be missed.
Bridget exemplified the type of person who I was hoping to befriend when I chose to return to school. She was an overachiever, with a zeal for life, possessing innate leadership skills beyond her years, and who was always adding to her skill set. She maximized her results in a minimum of time, because she never wasted a moment. It’s hard to single out a particular moment of our time together at The Daily Bruin that defines Bridget as an individual or as a friend. Rather, I see a montage of – joking around the table before a budget meeting, her herding the staff from the softball field to finish editing the next day’s paper, a late night at the Apple Pan and an endless slide show of other brief cherished memories.
She was the first person at the paper, who made me feel part of the group, at a time when I was still feeling like an outcast because of my age difference and unsure of whether I wanted to commit my senior year to the paper, Bridget invited me to join the softball team. She also encouraged me to join the parties, at a time when I would never have considered it. Those months during Spring 01 allowed me to forge friendships with the people who worked outside the sports cubicle, and encouraged me to see my personal goals at the paper and at UCLA to completion. I will always be grateful for that.
The quality that I most admired of Bridget’s was her ability to defuse tenuous situations and control difficult personalities. She always seemed to say the right things at the right time. When I was feeling down, she would always perk me up, and when I was out of line, she would straighten me out. I trusted her with all of my writers, because I knew that 99.9% of the time, Bridget would be able to handle any situation. She was funny, respectful, loyal, tough, and as good a manager as any that I’ve met in the professional world.
I always thought of Bridget as someone with limitless potential, because of her pro-active determination and her mental toughness. Although I hadn’t spoken to her in the years since our graduations, I always looked forward to one day serendipitously bumping into her, and swapping stories over beers, laughing at each other’s adventures. She compacted so much life into 26 years, and I will always admire her for that.
I just remember Bridget as having the most remarkable energy in such a compact package. When I told her no photographer could make me look good, she made it her mission to shoot me as often as she could when she thought I wasn’t looking.
And as good a photog as she was, she never did get a flattering photo of me. But not for lack of trying!
I have plenty of her: Bridget shooting the Blood Bowl during my first month at the Daily Bruin; in her green years at the -30 banquet with all the rest of you gorgeous people; hanging out in the newsroom…
How quickly time passes. It’s been six years since I left UCLA and not one day goes by that I don’t fondly remember at least one of my *kids.* You know who you are.
I am so proud of the woman Bridget’s become and her dedication to carpe diem. Obviously, she never let my disenchantment with having married a musician spoil her outlook.
Reading all your comments makes my heart burst, but not completely with sadness. The time I shared with you all and Bridget was special and grand. I hope one day to adequately commemorate that on the page. You are all just the best.
Last December, I was on vacation in New York City. I was just walking around by myself in the late morning, looking for something to eat. As I was waiting for the light to change at the crosswalk, I saw someone I hadn’t seen in at least a year. Last I heard, she’d been in Australia. Or maybe Paris. It was Bridget. As she crossed the street towards me, for some reason I decided it’d be funnier if I surprised her. I quickly pulled my beanie down over my eyes and huddled up in my heavy coat, and in the best homeless person impression I could muster, said to Bridget (who hadn’t yet noticed me) – “spare some change?”
She barely looked at me, shook her head “no” – thanks a lot, Bridget – and kept walking for a few steps, and only then seemed to notice me. She asked me what the hell I was doing there, and I asked her the same question. Turns out she had stopped in New York on her way back from Paris as she headed home for the holidays, and had just come from a meeting at the New York Times.
We got a bagel, sat on a stoop and caught up for a few minutes, and then we spent the day together.
We could have reminisced about a lot of things. I’d known Bridget since ninth or tenth grade, when I think we had Spanish together in Senor Gonzales’ class. Even though he was one of our favorite teachers and I think he really liked us, a group of us (led by Bridget I’m sure) decided it was a good idea to throw a tire into his tree one night when we were bored. Hopefully Senor Gonzales doesn’t read this.
We could have laughed about New Years our freshman year of college when she inadvertently helped inspire one of the most exclusive and prestigious clubs I’ve ever been apart of – the Mature Gang – a gang that still thrives today.
Or the time when we were in Westwood, for Kelly’s 21st birthday, and I was attacked by what seemed to be thousands of red ants as I leaned up against a wall at a dirty burrito shack. I very clearly remember Bridget laughing hysterically and pointing at me, as I screamed and tried to get the ants of my leg. That said, she soon redeemed herself as she helped me find a drugstore where I could buy ointment for my swollen leg.
Or when Bobby, Beach, Sean, Pat, Bridget and I started a conga line and a snapping circle…at the Sacramento Jazz Festival.
But we didn’t really talk about anything of significance that day. Instead, we just walked around the city all afternoon. It seemed so comfortable and natural, even though I hadn’t seen her in quite a while. We felt no need to reminisce or look back on old times or do anything like that, because you figure that your friends will all be around forever and you’ll always have those memories to laugh about one day. You have no reason to think otherwise.
For some reason, it hadn’t occurred to me that Bridget would be traveling with the band on their U.S. tour. So it was very much a surprise when I walked into the Stork Club in Oakland for the first show of the tour and saw Bridget. I met Hayden for the first time, and noticed that Bridget, or “Bridgo” as she was now called by her fellow Aussies, talked a lot like Hayden and the other guys. In fact, both Bridget and Beach sounded, well, like they’d been living in Australia for a while.
We had a great time that night, which happened to be my birthday, and I saw the Jellies again the next week when they came through Sacramento.
When I left Marilyn’s that night, I remember saying quick goodbyes to everyone. Nothing profound, nothing sentimental. I told everyone, including Bridget that I’d see them soon.
I’m so thankful I saw everyone at those two shows. And I still can’t believe that in New York City, the biggest city in the country, I just happened to cross the street and bump into Bridget. And she wouldn’t even toss me her spare change.
I had the privilege of meeting Bridget when she was a freshman starting out as a photographer for the Daily Bruin. As an assistant editor and writer, I had to interact with the photo department on a pretty regular basis.
I never hesitated to go to her for any help. She never made me feel like I was bothering her when I was desperate for art to go with some intern’s story. She just gave off this aura of being easy going and kind. I know those are the reasons I haven’t forgotten her face after six years.
I can still see her with her adorable blond curls peering at negatives by the photo cubicle.
No words seem good enough to sum up someone who was so well-liked. Bridget, we were all lucky to have known you.
I wish I could find the right words. Bridget always could. Maybe it is best if I share hers here because they are so appropriate.
In a book of inspirations I keep – alongside a copy of a Frida Kahlo self-portrait and postcards of my favorite places in the world – one can find a column published in the Daily Bruin in June of 2003. It was written by our inspirational friend Bridget O’Brien.
“Hooked on a Feeling”
Dear all,
Mari, Conor, Kelly, Craig and I are all still numb—stretches of clear thought and moments of normalcy sandwiched around boxes of Kleenex and utter despair. It’s heartbreaking to dilute the reality and depth of what has happened to our beautiful Bridget and Hayden to tend to the details that need to be addressed immediately, but first, we are so thankful that Mike, Pat and Adam came through the accident and are recovering safely. Our hearts, love and hopes for a quick mend go out to them.
Although Bridget and Hayden would already hate the amount of attention they have and will continue to receive, with Bridget no doubt rolling her eyes right now in heaven, directing attention to them and getting the word out about services is exactly what we want. Please help us by reaching into the nooks and crannies they visited and the friends they had around the world.
A joint service for Bridget and Hayden in the U.S. will take place Monday, October 29 at 10:00am in the chapel at Mt. Vernon Memorial Park and Mortuary, 8201 Greenback Lane, Fair Oaks, CA. There will be a visitation the day before, Sunday, October 28 from Noon to 4:00pm at the same location. We will be joined by our in-laws and friends Rodney and Sue Sweeney and Hayden’s sister Courtney. Joint services in Australia will be announced when possible.
Regarding the California service: If you plan to attend wear what you like, but we strongly urge you to consider whose lives we are celebrating and come in casual attire, flip-flops, something comfortable—you know, the kind of clothes you’d wear sitting around a table with Bridget and Hayden while she beat you at cards or a board game. We’ve all been there… In lieu of flowers, please make donations to the “Bridget O’Brien Daily Bruin Scholarship Fund”. We can think of no better way to honor Bridget than to help encourage others to discover and further their passion in journalism and photojournalism in her name. The address and account information for the fund are being arranged and will be out soon.
We are so thankful for the calls, emails and offers of help we’ve received, and hope you understand that with everything happening we aren’t responding to everyone individually. For now your prayers and good thoughts are what we need most. Keep them coming…
A notice and guestbook for Bridget is posted in the Sacramento Bee at http://www.sacbee.com. Friends have set up a tribute page with pictures and entries at http://www.rememberingbridget.com. You can also Google Bridget O’Brien, Hayden Sweeney or Electric Jellyfish.
Thank you doesn’t say it, but thank you…
Kevin
Kevin O’Brien
5501 Wyndham Hill Court
Carmichael, CA 95608
everyone wrote from the perspective of knowing Bridget in college, or after, or maybe late high school. I met Bridget when she had just moved to Tucson, right after I did, in 6th grade. She was spunky and sassy and they richest and driest sense of humor. And just so smart. We have not been in the best of touch in recent years, but it broke my heart to to hear this news. I loved hearing from Mari and Kevin about all of her ridiculously bold and incredible adventures over the past years, none of which surprised me (considering who Bridget was) but all of when made me envious. I still have some of the great stuff that she made for me when we were typical inseperaable buddies in middle school. She was.. .well… what you all have said. A singularly incredible woman.
My love to you, O’Brien’s all.
Love,
Turtle Woman
Bridget, whom I preferred to call BoB, was inspired and inspiring. The little brown truck that she used to help so many of you move was originally mine. But she made it hers. Secretly, I loved that ’87 Toyota pick-up despite the fact that it didn’t unlock from the outside on the driver’s side, had duct tape over the handle, was on its third clutch, needed a constant supply of clutch juice, and had over 180,000 miles. My girlfriend at the time didn’t much care for it, and I foundered when Patil talked trash about my beloved truck. But Bridget (who worked closely with Patil) helped me wage a guerilla war with her about that truck and its greatness. It was her personal goal to convince Patil that that truck was awesome. And I learned why when I moved to Wisconsin for grad school: BoB had had eyes on it for nearly two years. She insisted that my parents should sell it to her. I warned her of the curse that it bore; the curse of moving other people’s stuff. Yet she knew it was a cross she could bear. When I asked why she wanted the truck so badly, BoB declared, “Because it’s comfortable!”
That’s how I’ll remember Bridget – comfortable. BoB yelled “Arrrgghh!” like a pirate with me in the office. BoB interned on the copy desk because she thought the style police were fun. BoB responded to BoB. BoB played games of disc golf that led to concussions. BoB chided me whenever I told the same stories (which was often). BoB photographed me with a singing pirate.
I feel privileged to have seen Bridget just four days before her death. I hadn’t seen her in over five years. It was great – same ol’ Bridget, but with a slight accent and deeper lines around the eyes from smiling too much. Before she turned in for the night, Bridget thanked us for letting her, Heydan, and the EJ’s stay. “I’m really glad it’s not weird,” she said. I told that it wasn’t weird because she was a good friend. “Yeah,” she replied.
And it wasn’t weird to see Bridget after such a long time. It was comfortable. Bridget’s fly-by visit reminded me of how much I have missed her over the years since I left UCLA.
I will miss Bridget O’Brien something fierce.
It was a fall evening at the Daily Bruin in 2001. I was slotting (copy-desk lingo), and Bridget was around to paste up and drive the paper to the plant. She wasn’t just photo editor that year. She never truly did just one thing at The Bruin. She had too much talent and energy for just one thing. Anyway, everyone else was gone for the night when some newly-discovered production circumstances and a certain finger injury affected our ability to meet deadline. Needless to say, we were both testy and delirious but at an hour I need not mention, we got the newspaper out and rejoiced. We chronicled the amusing and frustrating aspects of the work shift on a mock cover page, and I believe we finished off the night drinking something out of a paper bag…out of the office, of course. Thank God for Bridget.
BOB started The Bruin just about the same week I did freshman year. We exited it at the same time, too, as we both graduated a quarter late. We even traveled abroad at the same time senior year and exchanged the goofiest e-mails about our respective experiences. All of my Daily Bruin memories include her and many of my larger Los Angeles and beyond experiences do, as well. There are very few people one can spend endless amounts of time with, and Bridget epitomizes that type of person for me. As already stated by others, she is kind, spirited, sincere, beautiful, extremely competent and confident. Bridget challenged me, and I think/hope I grew up a little bit in her presence.
For various reasons, we had an independent-women theme going on at my last apartment in Westwood (shared with Sarah Wagner and Kate Anderson). And so “what would Bridget do?” (WWBD) was commonly and reasonably posed among our group. We also had a quote board and since Bridget stopped by and stayed over often enough, she made it on there. Early into the school year Kate had been given a decorative, large knife by one of her many male admirers. Ungratefully, she tried to give it away, made silly excuses for it and received odd looks. One of them was from Bridget, whose unmistakable laugh could be heard from far away. “When you have to start giving away your knives because you’ve run out of room,” Bridget said.
I was supposed to see Bridget and meet Hayden on Oct. 23. BUT the second to last time I saw Bridget, we gallivanted around Brooklyn. She took me to a lounge that only she would know of, and we talked about nothing in particular. It was chill and perfect.
It’s absolutely impossible not to adore her.
Among the many memories floating like fog in my head (I’m not sure if they’re foggy because of time or because of various substances consumed over the course of several years at the many Daily Bruin gatherings where Bridget was, as they say, the life of the party), I keep returning to the day when Bridget arrived back in the office after spending a quarter in Chile. Everyone stopped. Everything stopped. People ran to her that day, as they always did, because she was magnetizing. I imagine that many of the new copy or news or A&E interns were curious, if not a bit frightened, as they saw their elders swiftly surround Bridget as if she were a 1930s starlet. I wish I had told them then that Bridget was, indeed, an icon — someone they should get to know, someone they should try to emulate. At a place like the Bruin, which revolves so much around generations, legacies, traditions, and histories, Bridget certainly left her inimitable mark — with humor, with verve, with talent, and, as Cuauhtemoc says, always with patience.
When I think about Bridget I can’t help but think of what Yoda says to Luke Skywalker in Empire Strikes Back: “Do or do not. There is no ‘try.’” Bridget was a doer. She just did. No questions. No apologies. That, I imagine, is the lesson she taught many of us.
What I admired most about Bridget was that she was down to earth and a hard worker. She not only ran the photo department but also drove the paper to the printer every night. I really admired that she was a go getter, always determined. Any extra job that was available, she took it. I still remember Bridget grinning as she would speak to me in Spanish in her sweet quiet voice. She loved to practice her Spanish with me and her extra effort made me feel so welcomed and accepted at the Bruin. She had such a loving soul. Even though we were from different backgrounds, I felt a connection to her. Whenever I brought food it was Bridget and that sports editor guy (whose mind escapes me) that would always come over and not only eat the sometimes really spicey food, but also want to get to know me and share their funny/silly stories with me. I will miss cooking for Bridget! I thank God for knowing Bridget and sharing my food and stories with her!
Bridget? What I will recall most about her is the energy and huge heart wrapped up in such a small package. I worked with hundreds of students as your former Student Media Adviser, but she was a standout… for her guts, her mischievous sense of humor and her dedication to carpe diem.
When I mentioned that I couldn’t get a decent picture of myself, she made it her mission to do so, always shooting me when she thought I wasn’t looking.
Great photographer that she is, she never did get a good shot of me, but oh, I got many of her: At the Blood Bowl with a lens almost as big as herself; partying with the gang; celebrating during the -30 banquet; and, always, working.
I spent the weekend poring over photos from that time frame. Man, how time passes, as I’m sure those who shared that precious period with me now realize. I am extremely proud of all of you. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of one of my *kids.*
Like Bridget, you’re just the best. I hope to immortalize you, and Bridget, on paper. What a special time and what a phenomenal group. And what a priviledge.
The Daily Bruin’s obituary
I am so shocked at this news. I wasn’t close friends with Bridget, but remember her as someone who held a mythic status in the Bruin newsroom as the coolest girl anyone there would ever know. It would be safe to say I found the amount of reverence directed toward her deeply intimidating. I also remember being totally impressed by how brave and confident she was, whether in deciding to live in her car for ten weeks or heading to Central America just because she felt like it and turning it into one of the best stories the Bruin ever published, along with that USA Today job. During our time together at the Bruin, I was pretty convinced that my life would never be as interesting as Bridget’s. And I still am.
It may sound trite, but I can’t remember anyone ever hating Bridget. She wasnt necessarily nice to everyone. In fact I think she always spoke her mind in a very straitforward manner. But she was always respectful in the way she said it and people respected her for that.
I think people also liked her because she was just a fun person to be around. I had the privilege of attending both Rio Americano High School and UCLA with Bridget and while the time we spent together dwindled after my freshmen year in Westwood, I was always happy to see her. I was also (not so) secretly jealous that she was a Daily Bruin sports photog and got to use all the cool camera equipment and sit on the sidelines at any game she wanted. But then again, she was always doing things that made everyone else think, “Wow that would be so cool.” For some reason, she was the only one who had the passion to follow through.
It’s hard to imagine that someone with so much life could leave the rest of us to go on without her. Bob will be missed.
I was Bridget’s assistant photo editor, and we spent countless hours together in the newsroom - wading through photographs, haggling with reporters, and just trying to get stuff done on time. I felt like I went off to war that year. And the only reason I survived, was Bridget.
There are too many Bridget memories to recount. And most often, those memories were about the little things she did, that put her in your personal hall of fame. I’ll never forget how she took my Sunday shifts, so I could attend church. She never hesitated staying after hours, if it meant a better paper the next morning. And that look of hers (such a small thing) could calm you down, even when hell broke loose. Bridget was selfless. Bridget was… awesome. I always respected her because she was among the few who truly knew herself and possessed confidence and humility at the same time. She inspired me.
I don’t know what else to say that would aptly describe someone so indescribable. I’ve been at a loss of words all week. And all I can say is that I will miss her and never forget her.
Bridget paved the way to Daily Bruin success for short, strong, opinionated girls! I could always count on her to gang up on Tim, Q and the other boys at editorial meetings. I enjoyed her shrewd analysis, personal drive, sense of adventure and vibrance. It is so wrong and sad that she won’t be able to touch the lives of more people in this world, because she was an uplifting presence and tremendous spirit. But I am overwhelmed and amazed by how many people she did touch in the short time she was here. I am keeping her in my thoughts, and seeing these loving comments from the many of you I haven’t spoken to in years makes me want to underscore the great bond we all have, regardless of time and distance.
Bridget was a firecracker from the start. I was the photo editor at the Daily Bruin when she started in the fall of her freshman year. She was heads and tails above everyone else in her group and became a full-time staffer in record time. Back then, we were still shooting on film and we sat perched over the lighttable for many afternoons. Of course, that would be when she was taking a break from developing the film, which she did in one of her other many jobs at the Bruin.
Bridget was awesome. My last memory of her is dring brass monkeys on Barbara’s rooftop in Brooklyn. We had such a good time that night. She always made one feel excited about life and the future. Thanks Bridget.
This November marks 10 years since I was fortunate enough to meet and spend time with Bridget. Very unfortunately, it has been far too many years since we last spoke. It would have made me so happy to know what she was up to… but all of these notes speak to exactly the kind of person I knew her to be.
Every room she entered she made uncommonly bright. Every smile melted ice. I can think of no one else in my life that has had such a profound and positive effect on so many people. She was, in no small way, amazing.
My sincerest wishes for comfort go out to both families and to everyone who knew her. Mari, Kevin, Conor, and Kelly, you have always been wonderfully warm to me and I am grateful to you in more ways that I could possibly express.
I love you, Bridget. I loved you then, I love you now, and I will miss you forever.
One of the first times I met Bridget, she and Kelly and I found ourselves in Ross Dress-for-Less. In fact, I’d convinced them to come with me. Later I learned more about Bridget: I learned that the best birthday present you could buy her was a skateboard, that she liked playing catch on the beach, that she hated wearing skirts, that really, she was the very opposite of “fussy.” But one of the first things I learned about Bridget was that she was up for anything—forget Paris or South America. She was up for a trip to Ross Dress-for-Less.
And actually, I think that she didn’t have to go far to find an adventure—she was always there waiting for it. She would find contentment wherever she was; she would go along with whatever life was offering in that minute. I remember her waiting patiently outside the dressing room as I emerged with a stack of cheap shirts. Look, I showed her, they’re really only $7. She didn’t know me very well at that point, but she tilted her head slightly and raised her eyebrow in a look I would come to recognize. “Yeah,” she said, “but that’s still $7.” That’s all she said. Not, “they’re the ugliest shirts I’ve ever seen.” (They were). Not, “you must be an idiot.” And definitely not what I would have said—”sure, they’re cute.” It was a small thing, but actually, I remember thinking at the time that I certainly didn’t have the hang of that kind of honesty.
She was right of course. It only took a few months before I was sending the shirts to Goodwill. It was just like Bridget to see through all the little unimportant details, to know that it was about the trip itself and not buying things—not what you get at the end.
Sometime shortly after that day, my grandpa had the opportunity to meet Bridget. He couldn’t hear very well, but he would scream her name, and she would smile. He liked her. And he only liked really good people.
Bridget taught me how to be a journalist and a Californian. She’s one of the few individuals who undeniably affected the path I’m on today.
She was gracious. I was a nervous and uncertain young photographer, and she took me under her wing. Bridget was my conduit into the Daily Bruin, both professionally and socially, and her enthusiasm catapulted me through four great years. This was true even with the small stuff, like when I needed a car to cover an assignment off campus. Without blinking, she handed me Kelly’s car keys — and this was long before I met Kelly.
She was inspiring. At the end of my freshman year, after many rolls of film and ridiculously fun nights, I was speechless when Bridget asked me to succeed her as photo editor. For a 19-year-old kid from Missouri, still adrift in Los Angeles, Bridget’s confidence in my abilities meant more than I can articulate. In the months before and after I was hired, she patiently trained me in the arts of photo editing, management and, as corny as it sounds, simply enjoying life. I worked hard to emulate her poise and passion.
She was infinitely cheerful. I’ll never forget our annual rendezvous at midnight as she led the photo staff to the girl’s bathroom in Kerckhoff Hall for a group portrait, which launched the 24-hour chaos of photography that was Day in the Life. Nor the happy memories of frisbee, parties and photo geek sessions (very few people in this world appreciate the joy of new digital cameras, telephoto lenses and lighting kits).
I’m grateful our paths crossed unexpectedly, as was typically the way one crossed paths with Bridget. And I’m particularly appreciative that I saw her, Hayden and the Aussie contingent in Vegas a few weeks ago. On a party bus with 30 people, it was a reminder how easily she forged connections to people from every geography and background. It was fun to ride on the coattails of a vagabond like Bridget.
It’s a heart wrenching journey going through this long list of memories that people have of Bridget – truly a testament of how great of a person she was. For the few years that I knew Bridget at the Daily Bruin, there will always be fond memories of late night editing, Day in the Life trips to the Kerckhoff womens room, my inability to say “no” to her when asked to shoot assignments and, of course, jealously hearing about her adventures abroad. She was the Photo Editor at the Daily Bruin when I started shooting and was constantly encouraging this shy 2nd year to take assignments and critiquing my work. I may never become the photographer she was but I certainly learned a lot from her passion in life and her adventurous spirit. I’m utterly sad to hear that she’s gone but comforted to know that she’ll always be remembered. Cheers Bridget.
I had the pleasure of knowing Bridget at a time when I was young and impressionable, just getting comfortable with myself as a supremely awkward pre-teen, and she was the ‘cool older girl’ from Rio who hung out with my brother Bill and his friends. I remember countless summer afternoons when Bridget would come over and swim in our pool after long days on the American River, giving me “big sister” type advice on dealing with teenage boys, speaking my mind as a young woman should (!), and being a free spirit and not letting anything get in the way of doing what I wanted to do.
For me, Bridget was the epitome of cool and I looked up to her greatly. She took time during lunch to come hang out with me and “check-in,” and let me tell you, as an entering freshman, that was pretty awesome. Bridget was hilarious, with a subtle humor that always had me cracking up.
I was also lucky to see a side of Bridget that was extremely kind, patient, and caring. She took time in high school to nanny/tutor my younger sister Jackie, and I looked forward to afternoons spent with her at our kitchen table going over homework and chatting about nonsense. It’s no secret that Bridget was extremely bright, and her willingness to help others was with complete selflessness and compassion, especially for Jackie.
Though I only knew her for a few short years in her young adulthood, she left a profound impact on me and my family, as I know my parents absolutely adored her. I will forever keep these fond memories of Bridget in my heart and mind, and will continue to keep her family in my thoughts in prayers during this difficult time.
Man I can’t believe I’m actually writing something like this about a friend. Even though I lost touch with “Bridge” after we graduated, I still considered her a really cool friend and I will never forget her. The last time I saw her was at a party at UCLA where her, Mari and myself took a picture together. She was always a really fun person to hang out with and always had such a cool attitude about everything. Reading all of the comments above it really breaks my heart to have lost touch with her, I wish I would have had one more chance to share a laugh with her and all of the Bruin gang. All my prayers go out to her family and Bridge, we will never forget you!
It has been quite difficult reading all these wonderful memories about Bridget, knowing her life was cut short. At the same time it’s inspiring me all over again to reflect on Bridget’s natural abilities and personable personality and see how they can filter into my life. It’s comforting to know how many lives she has touched.
I had the opportunity to work with–and learn from–Bridget via the design department and as a fellow Bruin photographer. As photographers, we know that a picture can and should tell its own story. Given this, the most superior ones allow the viewer to know the person behind the lens. How well does the photographer understand the subject in the viewfinder? Why is the photo shot from a certain angle? Why is something left in while another subject is cropped? What shots are needed for a comprehensive photo essay and why?
Through all her genuine photos we’ll be able to remember her spirit, talent, and simply the way she approached life. Her work was never “just a filler.”
The loss of Bridget has severely impacted the amount of supercompetence in the world. Bridget did what she wanted, and she did it well, and she made the people around her better by being herself. But as the comments on this site already attest, Bridget went right on making people better and increasing the amount of awesome in the world even when she *wasn’t* around.
Bridget’s not around now, and it seems to me that she still has the power to make us better–better workers, better drinkers, better corruptors of intelligent youth, better friends, better artists and movers and travellers. Bridget is the person I will think of in the moments when I find myself doing things I don’t really care about. I think she will continue to remind us all that there’s no excuse not to be amazing.
I didn’t know Bridget for very long, but the O’Briens occupy a special place in my heart as I have many early memories of their family. It saddens me greatly to hear of the passing of Bridget, but it warms the heart to read of the passion she had for everything she encountered and what amazing things she was able to accomplish with her life. My heart and prayers are with you and your family, Bridget.
When I think of Bridget, I first think of that slightly mischievious smile — the same one she’s sporting in the photos on this page. I met her at the Bruin and mostly remember her as an assistant photo editor with limitless patience, whether for a photo intern or editor of another section who was making her job more difficult. Despite the fact that she had a sort of little sister quality about her, she was one of the most reliable of all the staff members, and brought a level of professionalism to her work that was beyond her years.
Although I completely lost touch of Bridget after graduating, and I’m impressed to read here that she did so many interesting things, traveled to so many places, and touched so many people in the past five years. Thank you all for sharing this.
I’m also reminded here of how significant our experiences were at the Bruin in shaping all of our lives. It’s incredibly heartwarming to see you all here. And I can’t imagine a better way to honor Bridget’s legacy than with a scholarship for future Daily Bruin photojournalists.
I spent 8 amazing days with Bridget and friends in Paris and Sweden last year.
One day Bridget and I decided to go swimming at the beach, seeing as everyone else had gone golfing for the day (and there wasn’t much else to do in the small town we were staying in, aside from swim, eat, and drink). That day we both swam out to a small wooden dock that was floating alone, about 30 yards from the water’s edge. We lounged there for an hour or so, in the middle of the ocean, occasionally dipping back in the water when it got too warm. At one point while we sat, Bridget noticed an orange and white buoy floating further out in the sea, what seemed like 200 yards away. Looking out into the horizon, she casually stood up, said “I’m going to swim out there,” and jumped in. I looked at her like she was crazy. But sure enough she began freestyling straight out into the open ocean, no boats, no nothing, on the horizon. I watched her the whole time, and after about 20 minutes she was still going. From my vantage point I could just make out the shape of her head in the distance, bobbing on the horizon. After 20 minutes she casually made her way back. As her face came into focus all I could see was a big smile, stretching from ear to ear.
Bridget led an amazing life filled with the kinds of adventures most people dream of but never do. She did.
Bridget was an amazing person in every way possible. She had a knack for being able to cheer everyone up, but also be focused when work needed to be done and impress you again and again with her talents. It was hard to not to talk to her and leave the conversation with a smile on your face. And if something came up at the last minute, she would not only step up and do what was needed, but she’d do it better than anyone else could.
I unfortunately didn’t keep in touch with her after she left UCLA, but she had a lasting impact on me and others. Bridget tried copy editing at a time when it wasn’t common to work in multiple sections of the paper — seeing her success was one of the reasons me and others later decided to do the same.
And she could hit a softball a long way. I’ll never forget that.
I had the great fortune of being one of Bridget’s friends throughout our three years at Esperero Canyon Middle School in Tucson. She was such an outgoing, funny, smart, and unfailingly friendly girl. Though unfortunately I did not keep in touch with her after she moved away, I nevertheless have many fond memories of her laugh and extremely congenial personality - so many great lunchtimes and passing periods out in the desert sun. As Lissy wrote above, she was so much fun to be around - she had such a cheerful and vibrant character. Bridget was always happy to have another friend, even starting at age 13 - and it clearly shows from all the posts above. I’m so so glad I knew her.
It’s wonderful to see so many familiar names from a not so distant past honoring a person who added so much to our lives. I wish I knew her better…like others I remember the cool, calm, professional and adventurous person who made the Bruin a joy.
I don’t think many of the people that have read or posted on this site knew much about Bridget’s relationship with her husband of six months, Hayden Sweeney, from Australia. I didn’t spend a ton of time together with them, but was lucky enough to spend the first two weeks that they knew each other with them. Bridget, Hayden, Mike Beach and I (with Fat Pat joining in Quebec) drove through New York, Quebec and other parts of the Northeast in June 2005 in Bridget’s car that she recently bought from a nun. The couple completely hit it off right from the beginning. They were comfortable enough after knowing each other for two days to sleep leaning on each other in the New York subway. It was no shock to me that they began seriously dating not too long after the trip.
Although I didn’t spend much time with them together again until they stayed at my apartment for a week in San Francisco a few weeks ago, I appreciated their relationship. I remember Mike Beach called me once from Australia to complain that his two best friends in Australia were totally inseparable. They were always together and he was mad because they were spending much less time with him when they were together. During a walk through SF a couple of weeks ago, Bridget and Hayden went off by themselves and were enjoying some inside joke. I commented to Beach that it was so cool that she and Hayden were so in love. He completely agreed.
Although most of Bridget’s American friends didn’t know Hayden, I think you all would have seen that Bridget and Hayden were great for each other.
Other great memories I have of Bridget:
-Weekend mornings in Sacramento at my parents’ house. Bridget would always walk into the kitchen and ask my mom to cook breakfast for her, and she always did.
-Bridget always winning monopoly. Mike Franz put it best: “don’t trust Bridget, she might seem sweet, but she’s out to kill you! Sorry Bridget.”
-I recently introduced my girlfriend to Bridget in Oakland at an Electric Jellyfish show. My girlfriend stuck her hand out to shake hands with Bridget, Bridget opened her arms and gave her a big hug instead. My girlfriend was shocked, but later said she liked the girl who hugged her.
-Bridget and I spent two weeks traveling through Eastern Europe together last summer. She accepted a job at Fat Tire Bike Tours at the same time, but only with the condition that she could have 2 weeks to travel. She got the job, despite no other employees getting more than 4 days off at one time. She had her priorities straight.
-I think anyone that knows Bridget would agree that the last google chat message I received from her a few weeks ago shows that Bridget was doing what she loves “we’re going down to the water to have some beers and watch the sun set… call us when you’re ready to play.”
Bridget’s roommates freshman year were twin sisters named Hi Kim and Hi Kim. That’s right. Same name.
They didn’t want much to do with anyone, including Bridget. Which meant that Bridget spent much of her time hanging with the boys of Hitch C-11. We downloaded music, shot pool, drank beer, played guitars and swam at the Hedrick rec center well past operating hours. More often than not, Bridget would crash at our place, instead of going back to her room and the Hi Kims.
One of her jobs that year was working at the Sproul Hall front desk. I guess Bridget figured she owed us big time for the time she spent in our room, because when my roommates and I decided a second couch would be nice for our suite, she agreed to a plan that, had it failed, could have gotten her fired – or worse.
It wasn’t stealing, we reasoned, to take the couch from the Sproul lobby. After all, when we moved out at the end of the year, UCLA would get it back – along with the coffee mugs, plates, bowls and silverware we’d “borrowed” from the dining halls.
Bridget often worked the late shift at Sproul and one night, around 4 a.m., the plan was set in motion. My roommates entered, cuing Bridget, at the front desk, to go back into the mailroom. That way, if the security cameras picked up anything, Bridget could plausibly say she didn’t see what happened. My roommates brought the couch outside and we lugged it up the hill and back to Hitch. Mission accomplished.
That next fall Bridget persuaded me to join the Daily Bruin. Fast-forward seven years and I have the career that I do, and many of the friends that I do, because of that decision – because of Bridget.
I only saw Bridget two or three times after she moved to Australia. I knew almost nothing about Bridget and Hayden’s wedding. But the day after they died, Sarah and I heard the story and saw the pictures. They were married before an Australian magistrate, April 23. Bridget wore a sundress and flip-flops. Hayden, a light blue suit with a cream-colored shirt, no tie. The reception was at a BYOB Thai restaurant. And the wedding party, we were told, got up a number of times during dinner to go buy more beer.
One photo in particular stays in my mind. It shows Bridget holding Hayden’s hands. She appears to be laughing at how silly the wedding procedure is, but you can also tell by her eyes and her smile how much she loved Hayden.
And that was it. Bridget may have dismissed certain things in life – living in an apartment her last quarter at UCLA, or an ornate wedding ceremony – as unnecessary or incidental. But what mattered, mattered. She loved to travel. She loved to learn. She loved the people around her – the subjects of her photography, her friends, her family, her husband. Perhaps only her caring heart could match her mischievous sense of adventure.
I keep having this odd thought that Bridget is just going on another trip, that I’ll have the chance to tell her a few important things before she leaves. If that were true, I’d tell her that Sarah and I are planning to go Colombia and Panama this December. I’d tell her we’re going to be traveling more extensively in the next couple of years and maybe coming to Australia. I’d tell her it was great seeing her earlier this month and that it was so good to meet Hayden. I’d tell her, “Keep in touch.”
“MIDNIGHT TACOS!!!” Although what we were about to cook would have probably been described more accurately as “3 a.m. tacos,” but that just didn’t really roll of the tongue, so “midnight tacos” it was.
For the 6 weeks Bridget and I shared an apartment in Washington, DC, we cooked together almost daily. I should specify though, I say we “shared” an apartment, but it was my apartment, paid for by my company. Bridget took it upon herself to move out of the back of her truck and into my apartment, and I couldn’t have been more excited about it, so the apartment became ours. I can’t say she didn’t earn her keep though, as she came to work with me every day for her entire stay. We spent our days riding Segways and illegally parking the company Hummer H2. We spent our nights hosting dinner parties and drinking $3 bottles of wine. “Quesadilla party, our apartment, tonight! Bring cheap wine and whoever wants to come, we’re playing Monopoly after dinner.”
On this particular evening though, it was midnight tacos which we were cooking for everyone. “Get your passport Bridget, you’re about to enter flavor country.” Bridget got her passport, and I promptly stamped it with a piece of raw chicken. Unsanitary? Yes. Hilarious? Kind of. It was hilarious to us at least, and as far as I know her passport still has the chicken stamp.
Bridget and I took Monopoly seriously, very seriously. If you never played Monopoly with us, I don’t think you can ever understand how seriously we actually took it. If you did ever get the opportunity to play Monopoly with us, you were probably too weirded out to ever play with us again. We had a strict set of rules, a competitive style of play, and a mutual respect for each others abilities.
Bridget and I both knew why she was better than me, because she looked so damn innocent. Seriously, who would you trust more if they were trying to pawn off Pennsylvania Avenue on you? “Bridget looks so kind and sweet, she would never try to rip me off. But that Franz character, he’s so scraggly and loud…I’m trading with Bridget.”
I tried to warn people. Immediately upon deciding we were going to play Monopoly, I would start lobbying to any newcomers, “Don’t trust O’Brien, she looks sweet and all, but she’s a shark I tell ya. You should have seen the trade she did with my Uncle Cory one time, he didn’t know what hit him.” Bridget would then come back with her “Don’t trust Franz” speech, and by the end she had already won them over to her side. We would then look across the table at each other, smile, and declare that the game has already begun.
I’ve hesitated to post my thoughts because I can’t find the words that capture how I feel. Remembering Bridget is an intangible, though clearly identifiable, experience. (I can’t recall hearing anything but pleasant remembrances when I’ve interviewed people about losing a loved one. But with Bridget it’s true.) I hadn’t spoken with her in a few years, but the mentioning of her name still — and will always — brings a smile to my face.
I heard the news of Bridget’s passing yesterday and have been trying to muster the strength to write something. I lost touch with Bridget after we graduated from UCLA and the Bruin, but she left a definite impression on me. She was an assistant photo editor when I joined the Bruin in 2000 (when I was Mary Holscher). She was such a strong young woman, and even though she was just a year older than me, she became a mentor. She taught me so much about photojournalism and how to enjoy college, and life, to its fullest. She always had such amazing energy.
I heard the news from Cathy, whom I hadn’t spoken with in years. This site shows how many people loved her and the community she built around her. It’s obvious she touched all of us, both individually and as a group.
My deepest condolences to the O’Brien family…Your daughter was a gifted young woman who was beloved by nearly everyone she spent time with. Bridget often came up in conversations I had with Mark Woodhams, who shared my admiration for her and you, the family that nurtured such a special person. Bridget worked for me for the better part of a school year, organizing Bruin alumni and our year-end banquet. I remember her much like everyone else. She was smart and spunky, with a ready but understated wit (on the job at least) that she seemed to punctuate with that smile. We would have rambling talks from time to time, and that’s when I began to understand how differently she came at things –such a wide view of the world and people, so adventurous, so casually brave, so naturally talented, all driven by her big heart. As a parent, I’d like to say congratulations on raising a daughter who cared about her friends and the world in the way she did, who was so balanced that she could be serious and sunny, and who had the gifts of character that allowed her to so positively affect the people around her.
Freelance photographer killed in crash
LAObserved posted the note below and a link to the Daily Bruin obit: http://www.dailybruin.ucla.edu/news/2007/oct/22/car-crash-kills-photojournalist/
Bridget O’Brien, 26, the former photo editor of the UCLA Daily Bruin, died when she swerved to avoid a deer on a highway near Cleveland. She was driving her husband, who also died, and other members of the band Electric Jellyfish. Daily Bruin
I have been reading all of the comments that everyone has posted over the past few days, remembering Bridget and what she brought to everyone around her. I have wanted to post something myself during all that time, but my heart doesn’t know what to say, feel, or act. I have known Bridget since the summer before our Freshman years in college when we met on a rafting trip, but we really didn’t get to know each other that well until a few years ago when we became tied at the hip in the summer before she moved to New York. Bridget introduced me to things I never would have experienced without her. I loved how she never backed down from anything, and how she enjoyed the simple pleasures, even something as simple as gloating over the fact that she was 2 days older than me. Although we are two VERY different (and stubborn) people, I don’t think I have ever met anyone who has made me challenge my beliefs as much as she did because of how comfortable she could be anywhere and how comfident she was in her beliefs. It sounds cliche and easy to say, but you never realize it until well on down the line.
Bridget would do anything for her friends whenever they needed it. When I took a 3 week Europe trip in 2004, it was Bridget I called beforehand to calm my nerves about the trip. She went along with my complaining and worries for a long time before she finally said, “Alex, stop being such a girl. This is supposed to, and is going to be, fun.” That made me laugh and was very comforting to someone who hasn’t even been across the Mountain Time Zone for travel, let alone Europe on my own. However, when the day came for me to depart, I began feeling that nervousness again and Bridget was the first person I called. I was flying into New York in a few hours and she insisted on coming to meet me at the airport before I crossed the pond. Once arriving in New York, I went out of the terminal to the place we were supposed to meet and never found her, but it was not for her lack of trying. I went back in and flew to London, where I got a voicemail from her saying that she had been held up in the afternoon commute. Her voice sounded so sad, like she had let me down, but Bridget never let me down. I later learned from Franz that she had left her house 3 hours early to meet me, and had to make 2 bus transfers and 3 subway changes. I do not know of anyone else who would have made such an effort, just to make a friend feel better.
At the Electric Jellyfish in Sacramento, I planned on telling her how much this meant to me (along with accepting the late- late night phone calls when I just wanted to hear a familiar voice), but I thought there would be plenty of other times to do this. She told me how happy she was and how proud she was of the band, and that made all of us happy too. I am so grateful for the few hours we had together at the show and at my house with the band afterwards.
Bridg, I’m sorry for taking you for granted, you just made all of us so confident in believing that you would always be there, with a listening ear, a kind word, and a smile.
Bridget was good people.
We say that a lot, but in the past week I’ve realized that for most people, it’s not always the case. Bridget was truly good willed, as anyone who met her or reads these recollections will attest. If the two can be used together, she was simultaneously cynical and optimistic. I’m not entirely certain I can explain that contradiction, it’s something you just had to know Bridget to understand. The looks she used to give, that everyone talks about and that you can see in the pictures, only hint at this. She didn’t bullshit you and she didn’t accept bullshit from you. And she expected the best out of you, even when you disappointed her. At least she did so for me, and I will always be grateful to her for that.
As I’m sure it was for everyone who has written something on this memorial, it’s difficult for me to write anything coherent, even now several days after hearing the news. I’ve tried to think of what she meant to me, and what I’ve come to realize is that, for me, she will always be a reminder of a time when I believed that we could change the world through a little bit of adventure and a whole lot of honesty. It’s a lesson I hope I will never forget. I miss you BOB.
First of all, I want to say how much I enjoy reading everyone’s posts. I check the site multiple times throughout the day, always anxious to read more. For that reason, I figured I’d add another story. This will sound like a cheesy, fabricated, ever-so-innocent adventure story stolen from the pages of Tom Sawyer, but it actually happened, I feel like telling it and ever since then I have never been able to eat a blackberry without thinking of it.
One summer, a few of us were down by the river, as we often were. It was Bobby, Bridget and me, and someone else, but I can’t remember for sure who it was. Bridget was definitely there. Someone mentioned that there were these really good wild blackberries growing along one portion of the river, so we swam out to the island and went to town. They were really, really good. We kept eating them and eating them until the bushes were bare and our hands were practically bloodied by all the thorns. Finally, we called it a day and made our plans for that night. We were all supposed to go to a party or something like that.
A few hours later, the blackberries got their vengeance. I felt terrible. My stomach hurt so badly that I was curled up in a ball on the floor. I called Bridget, to tell her that for some reason the blackberries weren’t agreeing with me, and that I probably wouldn’t be able to go out that night. I remember that as soon as I got Bridget on the phone, she cut me off and said, “I don’t think I can make it out tonight. I am so sick.” I ended up calling the other two guys, and turns out everyone had American River wild blackberry poisoning. None of us made it out that night.
I still like blackberries, but like most things I’ve learned it’s best to eat them in moderation. I guess I can thank Bridget in part for helping me learn that valuable life lesson.
Like Brian said above, I also refresh this page regularly, looking for new stories to read that make me feel like I knew Bridget just a little bit better. It has helped immensely.
So here’s one more.
Summertime in Sacramento (when you’re under 21) is not exactly full of things to do. We had the river, which many people have already mentioned was one of Bridget’s favorite spots. We had bowling, the pool hall, and we had miniature golf at Scandia.
Bridget and I would go play miniature golf fairly regularly but, being relatively poor teenagers with crappy jobs (when I met her she worked a couple days a week at a dry cleaners – and she hated it,) she decided one day that we should just steal the golf clubs and balls and then sneak on and off the course whenever we felt like it. Yes, that’s right, Bridget was a thief. Totally hardcore, I know, but with the exception of the occasional “Hey Mister” beer quest, this was about as dangerous as we got.
So we picked up the golf balls, started singing the mission impossible theme, and made our way to the car with the stolen clubs. I doubt anyone would have even cared that much but we got a good rush out of it. And I honestly can’t remember whether we used the clubs all that often or if we ever planned on returning them but since we kept them in my car they were certainly always good for a laugh.
I guess the lesson that Bridget taught me on this one was that if you want to do something but you don’t have the money, well then you just need to find yourself another way. Good thing she found photography rather than turning to crime.
Ray and I were so sorry to hear about Bridget’s passing. Even though much time has passed, in some ways it is only yesterday that all of our children were playing, doing Halloween, preschool, scouts….Please know that all of you are in our thoughts and prayers. May God’s peace be with you.
I first met Bridget at Christmas in 2001. I had only been dating her sister Kelly for a few months so it was my first big family event with the O’Brien clan and I was nervous for a number of reasons. Most certainly one of them was meeting Bridget. I had heard many stories of her exploits and successes. The idea of what she had achieved even then intimated me and seemed beyond what I could ever accomplish by her age. After all, Bridget was at UCLA and from the sound of things she was running the show. While meeting her, I felt I was being measured up and hoped I was passing inspection in good form.
As Kelly and I became closer, I spent more and more time with the family attending different activities. I always hoped Bridget would be able to attend because she made her family so happy, but was always a little scared too because I didn’t want to be the victim of her humor. Not because I couldn’t take a joke but because I was afraid I wouldn’t even know it had happened and she would think I was an idiot.
We didn’t see each other as often after I graduated high school. I missed family gatherings or she was unable to come because she was off in another country. But I thought about her quite a bit. I was always fascinated by what she was doing, whether in New York working the U.S. Open or in France at the bike shop. It was amazing.
I was so glad that Bridget, Hayden and the E.J.’s were able to make it to Kelly and my wedding. We were hoping to see them again in Australia on our honeymoon, although later we found out the tour was going beyond our stay in Melbourne. I was very excited to see Bridget again and meet Hayden for the first time. When they were preparing to leave I managed the courage to tell Bridget I loved her and was looking forward to seeing her and Hayden again. She didn’t hesitate to say the same. I knew I had passed and that means so very much to me. I am very proud to be her brother-in-law and will always take care of her family and my wife.
I don’t know why, but I keep remembering Bridget sitting on that old funky couch sandwiched between copy and news at The Bruin. I just picture her there, smiling, laughing, talking, giving someone her look. It was a great look.
Bridget and I fell out of touch after I graduated, but Mari N. would give me updates about her once in a while, telling me about the incredible things she did and places she went. Every single time, I couldn’t help but think what an amazing person Bridget was to live such an unpredictable and exciting life, and how much I admired her for it. I feel like she lived a life most of us only dream about living. And it makes me so sad to think that she’s not out there anymore, exploring the world for another great adventure.
Reading all these wonderful stories about Bridget has been amazing. I dont think I know many people as awesome as her. She was fun, exciting and always ready to go have a new adventure. The best part about Bridget was that her ideas always sounded a bit crazy but somehow they always ended up being the most fun I would ever have. There are way too many to name but some of my greatest memories are from long days rafting down the american river and if i remember correctly one very long full moon rafting trip with some boxed wine. Only Bridget could convince someone to go rafting in the middle of the night (well only Bridget could convince my dad to let me go rafting in the middle of the night).
…or the time she told me we should swim out to that boat way off in the distance in Lake Tahoe. It didnt seem that far, until we were a little more than half way, freezing our asses off and had no choice but to keep going. I can still remember making it all the way to the boat and sitting on the back looking back at shore.
I’m sad to say I lost touch with Bridget the last few years because she was traveling, I was traveling and we were both living out our lives. I remember the last time I heard from her she emailed to say she was going to Australia. Since I was just getting back from Australia I remember thinking lucky bitch! But its good to know she had just as much fun there as I did!
I never had the privilege of meeting Hayden but I would have loved to because if Bridget picked him he must have been an awesome person.
Bridget-thanks for all the wonderful memories!
Every story I’ve read takes me back to the 7th grade. That is when I first met her. Every day for a year and a summer, she hung out with me, helped me study, took me to movies, took me to the library. Everyday for a year I looked forward to seeing her after school for a companion and cool person to go places. But it’s what we did when hanging out I remember the most. She would often read to me her calculus homework if it had a funny joke in it. She told me about school, and I told her about my day. Once she imitated our parakeet and whistled when I spoke to her, prompting me to tell her a story. Her whistle either high if it was happy or low if it was sad. One day on a tirade after a tough day I threw my stuffed animals on the ground, and she picked one up and threw it down and went “HMMPH!” It cracked me up. She always found ways to make me laugh. She was energetic, smart and funny and made my afternoons worthwhile. She helped me survive my first year of middle school, and all the akwardness that came with it. I was so blessed to know her. On the last day of school I noticed a long and heartfelt passage in my yearbook, signed by Bridget. It is my keepsake of her. She will be missed.
Reading the comments here, you really get a sense of the amazing effect Bridget had on people. I remember her as a really fun, energetic person who always seemed to be in the middle of everything but never went out of her way to draw attention to herself. People were just kind of drawn to her.
I’m a comparative DB old-timer among the group posting here, and it’s really pretty telling to see just how many generations of DB people were affected by her in such a positive way. She was obviously a mentor and an inspiration to a lot of people, and she really made her mark on a great institution.
Let’s hope the tragedy of her death is tempered just a little bit by the incredible legacy she left.
Back when the Daily Bruin fielded a motley, confused crew of aspiring writers pretending to be serious entertainment journalists, we used to run this stupid feature called “Headphones.” As the name suggests, it involved walking around to people wearing headphones, taking their picture and asking what they were listening to. Since I was the music editor at the time, I had to do it most of the time and, almost every week, I had Bridget as my accomplice.
It was usually a long, frustrating undertaking because, even if we found people to talk, they didn’t say much that was interesting and the picture potential was even worse. And, in spite of all that, Bridget kept coming back for more. Every week, I’d put in the assignment and, within a few hours, “BO’B” was on the photo board.
The only saving grace of those dumb assignments was that I got to wander the campus with her for an hour or so and chat about life. I don’t even recall what we talked about most of the time, but I remember it struck me how down-to-earth and cool she was.
She was just an intern back then and she could have found more exciting stuff to learn the craft, but she stuck with it. Before long, she was on staff and sneaking into Smashing Pumpkins concerts with me.
It’s funny, because I hadn’t seen her in a few years and we were never that close. But Thursday morning, something brought her to mind and I had this blast of good memories, wandering around the quad, looking for someone, anyone, with a Walkman and a good quote and a photo. A few hours later, Michael Wacht called me with the news. In a weird kind of way, it’s like she was saying goodbye.
I never noticed the posts on this page before… there are some really amazing stories on here. It brings back some very good memories.
My favorite memories of Bridget span years. I remember going camping with her, Jim Guthrie, and Bob Schafer to the middle of no where after graduating from high school. After the normal crazy antics, I decided that I needed to head to bed because there is only a few that can hang at that level of excellence that Bridget brought to a party. At one point, as I am lying on the ground, I see Bob carrying Bridget on his back out into the forest, yelling and screaming… only to be followed 5 mins later by Bridget carrying Bob on her back yelling and screaming. Always good times.
Bridget was always there with a huge smile, yelling, “Alan, you hairy Italian! Sit on down and talk to me.” She always had time for a friend and would do anything for the people she knew.
Even though Bridget has been there for some of my life’s craziest stories, including the ninja story, I think the moment that will stick out to me the most is when I got invited as a wedding date, just three weeks back as a friend, and it happened to be for Kelly, Bridget’s sister. I hadn’t talked to Bridget since she was in South America, but as soon as I saw her in the bridal party I yelled to my friend Heidi, “There’s Bridget.” I got to catch up with an old friend, even if just for a few mins, was able to arrange a future stay in Australia, and meet Hayden, who seemed like a great match for the fun loving and independent woman we all knew. She was always quick with a smile and a joke (rather a quick retort) and those will be the times that will make me smile the most.
My family and I knew Bridget from her time in Paris last year. We feel very lucky to have known such a charming and kind young woman, and wish strength and peace to all of you lucky enough to know her better.
The Sacramento Bee’s obituary:
The thing that keeps popping into my head as I try to put Bridget into words is that of humbling envy.
I remember the first time I met her, the ease with which I opened up to her, and the goofy smile and hug she gave me when she said “If you’ve lasted with Beach, Bobby and Ryan for this long, you must be alright.” Then she kicked my butt in pool at least seventeen times. I don’t think I ever recovered from that upset, and I don’t think I got within ten feet of Bridget and a pool table ever again.
Then I think back to sitting on a bridge near my house in Santa Barbara with Bridget and clan, and trading stories about our travels. She had just returned from Nicaragua and I from Greece. It seemed natural that she be there to laugh, understand, and share with. I’m pretty sure that night we all spent a majority of the evening brushing up on our Spanish in a most unusual fashion: by pretending our wallets were cell phones and calling each other from across the room. I’ll never hear the word ‘minifalda’ again without thinking of Bridget.
But what is most fresh in my mind is a conversation we had at an Electric Jellyfish show in Venice. We talked about Hayden, and how happy they were together. We talked about love, and traveling, and how happy she was to see everyone back in the states. I laughed at her when she complained endlessly about her passport being full and having to get a new one. I could only wish for such a problem…
That’s the spirit that encompassed her. The ease with which she made everyone around her comfortable, the pure talent that she had for making the best of every situation, and the way that she excelled so well at being exactly who she wanted to be. But the best thing about Bridget was her vitality, her ability to infect everyone around her with her energy, and the fact that no matter where Bridget is, that energy will never fizzle.
Like my sister and Mr Olin, I had the pleasure of meeting Bridget in her adolecence, when i was just another younger brother to taunt. She trapt scorpions in our downstairs bathroom and was one of the few who had the privledge of calling me “Nicky.” My thouhgts go out to her family and her friends.
I was friends with Bridget some years ago and hadn’t spoken to her in a few years, but everytime I thought of her they were bright and peaceful memories. Bridget was always such a fun and caring person. I am glad to see that there were so many people that cared for her and that she was living such a broad and fulfilled life. My best to her family and close friends.
I hadn’t seen Bridget in a few years, but I e-mailed her a few weeks ago on a whim at that wonderful “emailbridget” address she had when I heard she would be passing through New York. We made plans to catch up at the New York show, and I was to see her again on a trip I am making to Australia in February. I was really looking forward to it.
I first met Bridget at The Bruin and often had assignments with her. One of the first times I had to work with her was to do a “Speaks out” Column a few days after 9/11, where we had to go around campus and ask people their thoughts. On this day, the question I had to ask (a little funny in retrospect, but which I took very seriously at the time) was: “Has your view of the world changed in light of all the events related to the Sept. 11 attacks?” One particular English TA I asked responded: “All my feelings about the world have been confirmed.” When he said this, I looked at Bridget absolutely shocked, not knowing what to say or do, but she was just laughing, and said she loved the response. I think walking back to the office with Bridget that day was one of the first times I laughed during that time.
Bridget had a great laugh, the ability to make her point across with a look (a particular evening when I asked a group of people on their way to a bar to wait for me as I struggled in my stilettos comes to mind) and an amazing ability to connect with people of different backgrounds. The last time I saw Bridget was a few years ago at a bar in New York City. I had brought along a Hasidic friend with me, but Bridget found common ground: Williamsburg.
Aside from being a gifted photographer, Bridget was a wonderful person who was strong and confident. She was one of the first strong women that I met in college and she had a tremendously positive influence on me. I’ll miss her.
The outpouring of memories and stories about Bridget here is amazing, and I don’t know how much more I can add, but like many of you, I first met Bridget while working at the Daily Bruin. In fact, I met a lot of people working at the Daily Bruin I’m sure I never would have met otherwise. Looking back, I’m so thankful for those experiences.
I always looked forward to the nights when Bridget was on-duty as an assistant photo editor — not just because I knew wire photos would get pulled, captions would get written, and late runs would get edited on-time, but because she was an awesome person to be around. Her sharp wit and relaxed attitude made late nights in the newsroom much more tolerable. Bridget was a gifted photographer, which quickly became evident, even to my untrained eye. She was cool under pressure and often surprised me with her maturity in moments when maturity was required, which was only surprising because she always seemed so easy going. As others have said, Bridget was patient… but at the same time she wouldn’t baby you or put up with your crap. She’d tell you what she thought and wouldn’t sugarcoat it. I really respected that about Bridget.
Like many of you, I lost touch with Bridget after college. I was amazed to hear about all the adventures she’s been on and all she’s accomplished. And I’m impressed, but not at all surprised, by how many lives she’s touched.
“Agase! Shortstop!”
I’ll never forget the first time I convinced (tricked?) Bridget into letting me take a fielding position for the DB softball team that didn’t rhyme with “might wield.” The seemingly trivial can have a tendency to become the significantly meaningful when you share it with someone who has a similar passion. That afternoon out on the UCLA IM field, I knew that in Bridget I had a friend who shared a love for the absurdity of slow-pitch softball, and anyone who ever took the field for the DB team (usually in a losing effort, unfortunately) would probably understand my sentiments.
But that, as so many of the previous comments have made clear, was what made Bridget special: the passion with which she approached every task that came her way, whether it be shooting a basketball game on the bouncing floor of a raucous Maples Pavilion or filling out the lineup card for the DB softball squad. And the inclusiveness that seemed to come so easy to her in carrying out those tasks was, judging by the heartfelt comments already posted, something that was not confined merely to softball.
One characteristic of Bridget that I’d like to add to the growing list is “knowledgeable sports fan.” This cannot possibly be overstated, especially when you find yourself trying to file a Thursday night game wrap at 11:30 p.m. from a janitor’s closet in Pullman. You always knew that no matter how incoherent your story turned out, it would always be accompanied by a pertinent and well-shot photo of game action.
My most sincere thoughts and prayers go out to all those who Bridget has touched, especially her family.
Bridget is a person who stays with you, even though she and I hadn’t been in touch in the years since college. Her email address is in my yahoo address book, so I saw it often as I prepared to send out mass emails. Many times I thought about dropping her an email out of the blue to see what she was up to. I had no doubt that it would be something exciting, interesting and noble; I haven’t been at all disappointed in reading about how she spent the last several years.
In college, Bridget shot many of the UCLA basketball games I covered for the Bruin. We were often two of the few women working at major college basketball games. Working with her reminded me that if she could hold her own with the photogs under the basket, I could definitely get my point across on press row.
My best memory of Bridget is when we drove up to cover the 2002 men’s basketball Sweet 16 in San Jose at the end of finals week. Since it was right before spring break, our work wasn’t going to be published in hard copy and would only go online, but neither of us would dare miss the opportunity to cover such a major event. In fact, even after UCLA lost in the first game, we both worked the Elite Eight match-up between Missouri and Oklahoma just for the experience. We both had finals the morning of the game but decided we’d still make the trek from LA to San Jose for a 7 p.m. tip-off. The closer we got to the Bay Area, we started realizing we wouldn’t have time to stop at my brother’s house to change into “work clothes” before the game. Though neither of us planned on dressing up too much for the game, we both took pride in our work and knew that rolling in to the Sweet 16 in flip flops probably wouldn’t get us much respect. We pulled off at a Chevron station somewhere along the 152 East and took turns changing clothes in the bathroom. We barely made it to the arena before tip-off but pulled off what turned out to be close to a 20-hour day.
I feel lucky to have known Bridget and to have spent many late nights at the Bruin with such a hard-working, creative, and genuine person.
I will miss Bridget’s laugh. It warmed your heart. She was the most genuinely happy person I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing. She had a way of putting everyone at ease, no matter how high-strung they were. You just wanted to be her friend and be near this aura of calm, fun, no-bullshit happiness. It wasn’t that she was always in a good mood. Her happiness ran much deeper than that, it was the way she lived her life and cut through all the unimportant things to what matters – love, adventure, hard work and passion. I am grateful for the times I got to spend with her at the Daily Bruin, for my first PBR, for the photos for Tenpercent that year she went above and beyond her job at the Bruin, and for continuing to inspire me.
Although I have not seen her in a couple of years, somehow it always comforted me that she was out there, living life as it should be lived, as most of us are too scared to live. Thank you Bridget for inspiring so many of us to be better people. We are lucky to have known you.
As bad as the Daily Bruin softball team may have been, I can assure all of you it couldn’t have been anything in comparison to the bad news bears like antics Bridget and I endured on our high school team. Some of my fondest memories of Bridget occurred on the Rio softball fields. I am sure Bridget had been working on her infamous faces since childhood, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she perfected them during the long afternoon practices and games at Rio. Bridget had a never give up attitude out there and inspired the rest of us to play our best no matter the circumstances. That attitude coupled with the classic looks she would shoot our fellow teammates and coaches made playing on a losing team worthwhile. I can picture Bridget’s batting stance and her powerful swing as if it were yesterday. And of course, the long bombs that would always follow. I also had the pleasure of sharing zero period newspaper with Bridget and a couple of years of Espanol with Senor Gonzales. Bridget was affectionately called Rubia and had a permanent halo over her head in Gonzo’s crazy classes.
Like all of you, I haven’t been able to fully comprehend or process what happened last Thursday but my heart is certainly warmed to read all of the stories and learn that Bridget touched and impressed everyone she encountered all over the world. I can feel her looking down on me right now; head slightly tilted, lips tightened, her big blue eyes saying it all.
I worked with Bridget while she was on assignment for Newsday in New York. We had a difficult task: tracking down undocumented female immigrants in Long Island who cooked for the day laborers. It was hard enough to get the women to talk on the record, but it was even more difficult to convince them to sit for a photograph. Quite a few times we made appointments only to be stood up. The women feared being deported. Yet Bridget couldn’t have been more up for the challenge. Beyond being fluent in Spanish, she knew how to make people feel at ease and quickly earn their trust. She ended up getting access to places most would have been barred and several wonderful shots were taken. I am so saddened to hear of the loss of someone so young and talented. My thoughts and prayers are with her family and friends.
I have been struggling to find words to describe BO’B since I found out about her death. When I think about BO’B, like many the other people whose lives she’s touched, it’s so hard to distill who she was and why I loved her so much. She somehow managed to be easygoing yet passionate. I will never forget her laugh, her dimples, and her disarmingly honest nature. It’s a good thing she didn’t decide to use her charm for evil.
BO’B was so much fun and so real in a way that no one else I know is. I love how she loved beer. And brownies. And how she was down for anything. I remember the one time she made hummus from scratch. It was delicious but oh-so incredibly garlicky. I remember the time she came home from St. Patrick’s Day festivities with most ridiculous giant green foam leprechaun top hat.
I feel guilty for missing her so much and feeling so hurt by her death despite having not seen her in a few years. We kept in touch only sporadically after we graduated, but the time we spent together was awesome, as she was an awesome person. I’m sorry, BO’B. Sorry that we didn’t keep in touch more. Sorry for feeling greedy and jealous in the wake of your death. Such feelings are unbefitting in the memory of such an awesome, easygoing person.
Nevertheless, I’m grateful for we spent time together and I greedily hold onto these fragmented memories that do her no justice at all. She brought so much joy and levity to my banal, conformist life. I will miss her very much.
Once upon a time, Scott, Josh and Bridget went on a road trip. It technically started on a plane, but most of the voyage occurred in a beat-up Chevy Cavalier. It was worn, fire engine red and smelled of old people. Not the most ideal way to navigate the state Oregon, but it got the job done.
It was compact in every sense of the word, not leaving much in the way of personal space for two Daily Bruin football writers and this little blonde girl in the backseat. We didn’t know much about her then. We knew Bridget only through her pictures, which always captured a moment with style and grace.
Over the next 48 hours, however, we found a friend. We met a person with a sense of humor and professionalism, with an infectious smile and a quiet confidence.
Josh and I had been on fun-filled roadtrips before, but Bridget made this one truly memorable. She was the one who pushed us out of the sports bar and into one filled with beatniks and the best live jazz I’d ever heard. She was the one who helped me drag Josh’s drunk ass out of the sauna and back to the hotel room at 2 a.m. She’s the one who insisted we jump into an ice-cold swimming pool on a freezing autumn night. She was the one who didn’t mind getting lost on the way to Corvallis because it made a road trip a real adventure. She was the one who eventually learned to love that disgusting rental car.
There was a bond between the three of us after that, built from a time that I’ll surely never forget. We didn’t become best friends and we haven’t talked since I graduated in 2002. But we were always friends. Although we didn’t stay in touch, Bridget had a positive impact on me.
As I gather from the 487 other postings on the site, I’m not the only one.
She will undoubtedly be missed, but never forgotten.
Bridget didn’t often wear dresses. But I remember the year she wore a pink dress to our Daily Bruin -30- Banquet. She was photo editor that year and won most valuable staff member as well as awards for her photography. Although Bridget and I would not get close until the following year when she returned from Chile, I remember admiring the girl in the pink dress. She won so many awards, was so loved by her peers and was so incredibly dedicated to The Bruin. I felt so fortunate that following year to become friends with the unique and special person we have all described.
Bridget influenced all of us in so many ways. For me, Bridget was an inspiration to travel and see as much of the world as I could. She helped me decide to backpack around South America after graduation and provided me with much guidance while I was there.
I’ve been reading old emails over and over the last few days. For the past three years, Bridget and I were on the opposite side of the world from one another. She worked in Long Island while I traveled in South America. The following year we flopped, with Bridget traveling in Australia and Paris, while I worked in San Francisco. The emails remind me of the times when we were so far apart, yet always sharing with one another the travel stories that electrified our lives.
One email I found stands out particularly for me, and since Bridget is described best through her own words, here it goes:
__________
In my response back to her, I ended my email with the following, “I miss you! Be crazy, do crazy things! And we will visit one another around the world! Take care, Sarah.”
I want Bridget to know that I will still visit her across the world, even though she is no longer with us. She left her mark in so many places – so when I go to Melbourne, Paris or Nicaragua and see where she lived, worked and played, I will be visiting a chapter of her life.
It brings me some comfort in knowing she had so many adventures already in life at her young age, but I get sad thinking about all the adventures she had yet to come and how I will dearly miss hearing about them. I hope in some way the rest of us can live at least a small part of our lives like her – and tell one another those stories in her memory.
Newsday published an obituary today.
Remembering Bridget 20 some years ago…a beautiful, full of life, active little girl…hockey player, girl scout,good student part of a wonderful family. After the move, we looked forward to the annual Christmas letter to be kept up with all the new adventures of the O’Briens. Bridget will be terribly missed but always remembered with love, Mary Kay, Bruce and Vezina family Colorado
Like so many other DB alums, I remember Bridget best from the long nights in the office and even longer nights partying. At work, she was the consummate pro; reliable, super-competent, and never afraid to speak her mind or defend her position. Most of all, she was fun and easygoing and never took herself too seriously.
I am still shocked and saddened by her death — but it’s heartening to hear just how much adventure she squeezed into her 26 years.
This does not appear to have mentioned already, but if it was, apologies for double-posting. It’s a site Bridget had set up before, with a brief portfolio that includes some of her photographs.
http://www.lightstalkers.org/bridgetobrien
Additionally, this is the USA Today story on Fair Trade Coffee, which includes a link to the photo gallery of Bridget’s shots.
http://www.usatoday.com/life/2004-02-15-fair-trade-coffee_x.htm
Bridget O’Brien was something of a Daily Bruin legend – first introduced to me through others’ wacky stories and photos and quotes in the office, before we ever met in person. I feel so fortunate to have gotten to know her during her final quarter at UCLA, when she lived out of her truck and worked with me on the copy desk. A few weeks in to knowing her, I offered her my spot in my room while I was going to be in Israel for a week. Sure, I wouldn’t be there and she didn’t know my roommates, but I couldn’t let my bed go empty if it could be home to Bridget, and I knew it’d be impossible for my roommates not to love her immediately, just as we all did.
When I returned to LA, Bridget drove all the way out to the Long Beach airport to pick me up, a favor that meant a lot to me especially because we hardly knew each other. But Bridget was that kind of friend – willing to do anything for others without it ever feeling like a big deal. She had a sense of knowing what needed to be done, and doing it before you could even ask for help.
Oh yeah, and of course the roommates adored her.
One more story: Last week, I couldn’t decide whether to head from DC to NYC for a quick but very important errand, to be completed before a late-night copy editing shift.
I asked myself, as Mari said she and her roommates often did: “What would Bridget do?”
The answer was obvious: GO!
Bridget’s memory honestly helped me make that journey, and made me think of it as far less “ridiculous” than it first seemed. I’m sure she will continue to propel me toward plenty other adventures. And I hope Bridget’s spirit helps us all make many leaps from “is this crazy?” to “you’d be crazy NOT to GO.”
Bridget is someone who is quickly and easily recalled from the annals of my memories. She has a laugh and witt that sticks to everyone around her. Her dimples gave away every slight amount of amusement she was getting out of a situation and life. She and I worked together on covers for TenPercent. She had such a love for the composition of photographs and such an ease about her when somehow transforming what we saw in front of us into a moment captured in a way only BoB could have captured it. I remember, before I met her, when Barbara would talk about her. She is someone that is definitely larger than life. She will never be forgotten because she lives in all of our memories so vividly. Her time here was so (horribly) short, but she made the best of it. She did so much with her 26 years and left so many people with brilliant memories. Even today, I randomly think about her and I chuckle. She brought a lot of happiness to a lot of people. She is so real in a way that is so difficult to find in people. She took each moment and squeezed everything out of it she could. She embraced challenges. When a lot of us might be depressed because we had to live out of our car for a semester, she made it an experience.
She is always a live in my mind, and I am sure in so many others. Rock on, Bridget. You are an amazing woman. Thank you for the time we had together and thank you for all the wonderful memories. I can only hope to enjoy life and embrace it as you did.
We have lost one of the truly unique, fun, and inspiring people in Bridget.
I had the pleasure of attending both Rio and UCLA with her as well as being a founding member of the Mature Gang, which was created to make fun of her and Kelly and give us a reason to wear underwear on our heads.
Bridget was one of my best friends over those years. I have countless memories of rafting trips and hanging out in the Hitch suites but I’ll remember more Bridget’s personality, especially her sense of humor. It was so dry that sometimes you didn’t know if she was kidding until she cracked that smile of hers and you knew you had been burned.
With Bridge, it was all about the little things as many people have mentioned in their stories. When we were bored in Mr. Blenner’s class in high school (often), I used to write these stupid little stories to pass the time. A couple years later, Bridget told me she had saved all those stories because “one day they’ll be worth something.” It was a simple act but few things in life have been more meaningful to me.
I had lost touch with Bridget over the past couple of years but was still able to get random tidbits here and there of her exploits. I remember when she started at the Daily Bruin and was so proud to hear she had a feature piece in USA Today. She continued to live the free-spirit life we all aspire to live but don’t have the stamina to withstand sleeping in cars and eating spaghetti every night to see it through.
I have been studying in Spain for the past couple of months and rarely check voicemails. I happened to check a couple of weeks back and there was a message from Bridget saying she was going to be in LA and wanted to hang out. I was excited to here from her and was going to call her the following week. Only two days later I received the tragic news of her passing.
I am so sad I didn’t get that final chance to talk to her or hang out with her. Even though we hadn’t seen each other in a long time, I know it would have been just like the old days with telling stupid jokes and planning shenanigans. I would have loved to have met Hayden who sounds like a wonderful person and husband. And I would have treasured one more moment to tell Bridget how special of a person she was, how much her friendship meant to me over the years, and how inspiring her life and spirit was to us all.
I don’t know how Bridget did it, but she packed in so much every single day. And when most people would be done for the day, Bridget would keep going. Even though she was so busy, she was busy by choice doing things that she loved doing – working at the Bruin, going to Disneyland, skiing, having parties, traveling, and being a friend to many. While I can’t ever see myself living out of my car, at least not by choice, I am inspired by the way Bridget lived. She was spontaneous, tireless, and dependable. She will be missed.
I had the pleasure to meet Bridget at Catalina Foothills High School in Tucson, AZ around 1995. In the short time she was there, we became great friends. Even as a freshman in highschool, she had such a great since of adventure, not to mention humor. We spent a lot of time together, in those short years. Then I remember she got the news she was moving to Sacramento, and off she went. People come and go in highschool, but I knew there was something special about Bridget. I stayed in touch with her, as best I could, as she did with me.
This is where Bridget is special, which we all came to learn about later in her life. The ability to just go, travel, and do what you want. Not to worry about how you will get there, or where you will stay, or how to pay. She was always ending up in new places having the time of her life. I think about my anticipation when I would see an email from her, and think, “Where in the world will Bridget be.” It might be South America, it might be Austrila, NYC, LA, Tucson, or who knows. And the best part is that she shared this with everyone.
My best memory with Bridget is the times she enabled me to be part of her free spirit. It was the summer before my senior year in high school. I had plans to make it to San Diego with friends, where Bridget was going to be with family. Well, as many times they do, plans fell through and my friends all called off San Diego. I didn’t know if I was going to be able to make it. Bridget wouldn’t let that happen. Somehow, she talked me into going to California for ten days, not just five (without letting my parents know and little money). It was the best trip I’ve ever had. I got to see San Diego, drive up the coast, and stay in Sacramento for the first time. There I got to go to San Francisco along with Tahoe, and many other sights, and meet Bridget’s friends. Best, I got to just hang with Bridget. Everything worked out with the trip, and I made it home (with a lot of miles on my mom’s leased car). Those memories are still with me today and I would trade them for the world. Thanks Bridge!
I didn’t know how she got a highschool kid to travel across the country and have a great time. That is until I saw all the things and places she got to go. I was always amazed that anytime UCLA played the UA Wildcats, I would get a phone call from Bridget and she will tell me she was getting to come to Tucson and photograph the games. I couldn’t even get tickets. She then continued to travel. The periodic phone call or email after that is how I got to stay in touch……..
I could write on and on about Bridget. Her smile, humor, intelect, and wit. I will miss her. It was a quick 12 years, but I would not trade it for the world. I will remeber her and try to say, “just go” when it comes to experiencing new things. So to you Bridget, “Yes, we have no bananas.” (I know everyone has their own little funny quote from her).
Also, here is an exerpt from one of her last emails to me. We all know she was happy.
What comes to mind first is the “killer Bs” - 2nd grade hockey players Bridget and Beth. I immediately went to the album and pulled out pictures. Although our families lost touch beyond the annual Christmas letters, we spent many memorable times together over those years here in Denver - Thanksgiving in Santa Fe, Christmas concerts in the living room, and more.
Bridget was an amazing little girl given to adventure. I did not know her as a “grown up” but it is clear she never lost that!
My heart is with you all.
Bridget
Where do you begin something like this when you have lost your best friend? As we all know, Bridget was amazing. Amazing is even an understatement though. Bridget lived life the way we all wish we could - to the fullest and as an adventure. I honestly feel numb right now talking about Bridget. The last time I spoke to Bridget we talked about how excited we both were that I would finally meet Hayden. “Linds,” Bridget said, “Now he can see who this person is that I talk all the time about! He can see that you actually do exist!” I was supposed to meet Hayden yesterday for the first time on Sunday, October 28th in Greenville, NC. But alas, I am here with her and Hayden in a very different way today. Not the way anyone had hoped for of course, but we are all here together and that is what matters.
In the past week I have done a lot of thinking about Bridget and what she has taught and given to me with her friendship. The list is endless. Trust me, we would be here for about a week, if I decided to rattle off everything, but I decided to capture a couple of my favorite memories of Bridget for you, with the hope that you all could see how I viewed Bridget through my eyes.
These are some of the more comical things I have learned from Bridget:
1. How to eat more than 13 Potato Latkes at every Cooper Family Hanukah Dinner without throwing up
2. That drinking illegal liquor from Thailand out of a beach bucket and then eating 2 buckets of Kentucky Fried Chicken on New Years Eve may not be the best idea
3. The best way to win at Monopoly is by begging to be on Bridget’s team, claiming that she is your best friend and that it would just be plain mean to say no!
4. The only way to play Marco polo is to play the full contact competitive version
5. The most fun anyone could have in Santa Barbara is by riding “borrowed,” well permanently borrowed, bikes throughout Isla Vista – sober, well most of the time.
6. How to mud wrestle successfully and make friends with men like Fabio on mud island on the American River
7. How to have multiple Christmas Eve dinners in one night (without throwing up) and still be able to successfully hang ornaments on the Christmas tree
8. How to successfully fork and tee-pee people’s houses…after the age of 22.
On a serious note, here are some of the most important lessons that I have learned from Bridget.
Lesson one learned from Bridget O’Brien: Spontaneity, love for the unknown, and patience
We all know that Bridget loved to travel. I was lucky enough to get to travel with Bridget! In the fall 2004 Bridget had been a squatter and eating midnight tacos with Mike Franz for sometime when I flew into DC to meet up with them. After our time Bridget and I decided to drive from Washington DC to Columbia SC in order for Bridget to experience a new part of the country. It was on this trip that I was going to “learn how to drive stick shift,” in the Bridget O’Brien driving school. We drove her truck; you all remember “The truck,” to South Carolina. I wasn’t sure that the truck would make it, but Bridget, always positive, was absolutely certain that we would be fine. “If the truck breaks down, it breaks down,” she explained to me, “We can just sleep in the truck.” “Sure I said, as I thought about spending the night on I-95 in the back of Bridget’s “SAFE” truck, which had just been broken into the week before. Nevertheless, we made it to Columbia SC in one piece. During our journey down I-95 I am also convinced that I became an expert stick shift driver although I never had to stop and when I did, the car stalled. I am sure Bridget is shaking her head right now, and saying “I am not sure you REALLY know how to drive stick, Linds. But keep telling yourself that!”
During our time in South Carolina we laughed together, learned together and experienced what it meant to be Southern together. At this time I had only been living in South Carolina for two months and Bridget had never experienced Southern life before so this trip was exciting for both of us. Bridget was intrigued by the mini-bottles of alcohol in the bars, the fact that you could still smoke in bars, the fact that everyone said “ya’ll,” before anything, the fact that iced tea came in multiple varieties (sweet and un-sweet) and the distinct “Southern Hospitality.” Although Bridget did not fully understand some of the Southern quirks, she had the patience to learn more. She spent endless hours talking to people, learning about them and growing to appreciate them for who they were. When she was leaving she told me “That wasn’t what I expected Linds! I had a great time here! I can’t wait to come back and visit soon!”
Lesson two learned from Bridget O’Brien: Humility
Bridget had a plethora of amazing job opportunities throughout her life. Yes, she worked for the NY Times, the USA today, and the UCLA Daily Bruin. The ultimate job for Bridget however had nothing to do with photojournalism though. In fact, Bridget spent a good number of her years working at a summer camp. The summer camp was called - Camp Red Devil, or to all of you, Red Devil Fireworks. Bridget and I shared so many memories at our summer job. Even as “summer help,” we spent 17 hour days together eating, filing, eating, doing data entry, eating, walking into the “boys only zone” in the warehouse, eating, playing with credit card machines, having heart to hearts with Cathy and informative talks with Sally, eating some more (It is no wonder we left in August 20 pounds heavier) and most importantly maintaining relationships that will last a lifetime. Bridget loved working at Red Devil and everyone that worked with her loved working with her. She had a zest for life that was contagious and will truly be missed.
During the summer of 2003 Bridget had the opportunity to demonstrate her humility for others. In April of 2003 my mom, Annabel, was diagnosed with Breast Cancer. A month later she started Chemotherapy treatments which resulted in the loss of my mother’s hair. Bridget and my mother had a wonderful relationship. In fact, Bridget was like my mom’s second daughter. Bridget could see how upset it made my mom to loose her hair, and even though it made Bridget uncomfortable, she offered to shave my mom’s head so she would not have to watch it fall out over the course of time. My mom graciously and nervously accepted. In the bathroom at Red Devil Bridget nervously took the buzzer and started going to work. “Annabel,” Bridget said, “Have you ever wanted a Mohawk?” My mom shook her head no. “Well now you have one –Look,” she proudly proclaimed! Bridget grinned and smiled for my mom to help her through one of the most difficult experiences in her life. This was the kind of person that Bridget was. Even though something made her uncomfortable, what was important to Bridget was making sure that others were at ease.
Lesson three learned from Bridget O’Brien: The value of friendship and the appreciation of all people
Many of us know that Bridget loved to spend time with her friends. Whether it was playing trivial pursuit, eating at chinos, or rafting down the American River, Bridget valued and appreciated every moment that she spent her friends. Bridget had a variety of friends in multiple parts of the world. It is a true testament to the person that Bridget was however, knowing that she truly made meaningful friendships in every place that she went. Bridget loved people for who they were, not who they aspired to be. Bridget loved people’s flaws and their idiosyncrasies…trust me I know…I play with pillow tags, and even though Bridget and the rest of the world will never understand why, she still loved me and accepted this as a part of me. I have never felt so privileged and lucky to have been one Bridget’s best friends. Everyone should know and have someone like Bridget in their life.
A part of my heart was lost on October 18, 2007. I will always remember Bridget’s voice and her laughter. Her whit and her intelligence. Her inner and outer beauty. But most of all, I will remember the kind of person I aspire to be, my best friend Bridget.
Bridget, thank you for being my best friend. I very much look forward to the day when I see you again with Hayden. I love you both very much.
“I don’t remember how we happened to meet each other. I don’t remember who got along with whom first. All I can remember is us together…and will remember that always.”
I met Bridget during my summer of subletters. At first I was just relieved to have the bathroom back. Unlike the previous ones, she didn’t spend hours grooming or crowd the sink area with mysterious concoctions. Soon after I realized how lucky I was. Her laid-back manner and easiness smile made that apartment finally start feeling home-y. It’s been so long since I’ve thought about that first summer in college. Bridget and I remained only in each other’s peripheries after that, until something like a midnight Frisbee and Franzia event allowed us to catch up. I always cherished those opportunities. It made me happy to learn she was out there boldly living, to hear her nonchalantly describe her adventures. As I read now about her more recent life, I continue to, and will always, be inspired by Bridget’s spirit.
The important thing to remember about Bridget is that she made changes in her life when things weren’t the way she wanted them to be. She was happy most of the time because she did things her way. Her way is not the path for anyone else. She traveled, took pictures, was very non-materialistic, took the rules of games very seriously, bent the rules of civilized life to suit herself while respecting those who followed the rules of civilized life. Bridget embraced the differences in people and learned as she went along. Bridget learned from everything she did. She either accepted and adapted what she learned or rejected it.
I am Bridget’s Aunt Kathy. To look at both our lives, we are very different on the surface. I grew up playing with the kids in the neighborhood, wandering and exploring and coming home for dinner. I had almost no organized activities. Bridget grew up playing organized sports, Girl Scouts, and the like. We both liked to read. Bridget graduated from college; I have never graduated but I take classes from time to time because I enjoy learning new things. Bridget traveled with her family and by herself or with friends all over the world. I live in mile-and-a-half radius.
I am like Bridget in essence. I find joy in everyday things. I learn something new everyday. I follow the rules of civilized life and yet I do what I want. I have enough money to get by and do the things I want; but most of the things I do don’t cost money. I have a husband who has the same attitude toward life as I do. I enjoy company and I enjoy being alone. My life has changed many times over the years. Many of the changes I have implemented. Some of the changes were thrust upon me. My attitude toward life is: If life hands you lemons, throw them away. Make margaritas instead, everyone else is making lemonade.
Life is not about being like someone else. Life is about being yourself. I do what makes me happy and Bridget did what made her happy.
One should never have to pull file photos of their friends.
It’s a sad process.
But it’s an incredible process. Why? I’ll get to that later.
Bridget lived everywhere yet nowhere. Like a fragmented memory it was hard to have a cohesive image of her. To make it even more difficult, the entire collection of those fragments didn’t all live in each of our minds. Bridget was someone different to all of us. Lover, friend, chef, traveller, journalist, listener, adventurer.
Like a great writer, she left a trail of images for us to find and tell her story. The adventure that defined her life now serves as a mystery for us to solve. What truly hid behind those blue eyes? There was always something we could not know or fully understand.
That is why she was so great. What you saw wasn’t always what you got. Just when you thought you knew her you would hear another story from another friend and be amazed all over again. Over the last few weeks we have come together to bring our scaps of memory, our remembrances, our stories. To tell the story of Bridget. To let us all fully understand who she really was.
Which brings us back to digging through archive files.
An incredible thing happened on the 18th of October. As two souls moved from this earth a collective image of a person started forming. An SMS message here, a passport stamp there, photo after photo leapt from gelatin strips and digital files. The hours passed and the collective memory of a single person began shaping up in our mental viewfinder. Images on screens, silver flakes under loupes, correspondence by email and postcard. By later in the week, a cohesive image of a person that we knew and loved came into focus.
Slowly, bit by bit, Bridget O’Brien came back to us.
And that’s an incredible process.
After two months of covering Iraq I found myself on a bike chasing Segway scooters in the shadow of autumn and the Eiffel Tower. The war was going badly and I had witnessed the end of that grizzly summer. Waiting for a visa to Afghanistan in Paris, I had picked up an assignment, through my photo editor Kelly at Polaris, to photograph a ‘Why we travel’ photo for the travel section of the Times. After photographing tours of tourists using these alien vehicles for two days I set out on a night tour with several tourists and two guides, one that was particularly comical. The tour culminated in front of the lights of the Eiffel tower at night. The assignment was more or less over, everyone in the group was having a ball and Bridget promised she would let me give the scooter a try. After a few wobbly back and forth efforts on the scoter I was making figure eights and watching the lights of Paris rush by. I had a blast on that night and the mixture of the city, the laughs, and the cheery spirit of Bridget had helped me reconnect with humanity again. As I returned the bike, Bridget asked me about my job, where I work and how I work. She also asked for a reference to Polaris. I wondered what the earnestness might be of an aspiring photojournalist working at a Segway scooter tour shop in Paris but what I did know about her had me talking to Kelly about her a few days later. Her personal charm can disarm even a slightly damaged photographer returning from war and her endless energy and inquisitiveness are the hallmarks of any good photojournalist. I enjoyed seeing her photo of tourists wearing those ridiculous Australian bush hats and looked forward to the young photographer I met by chance in Paris advance. I am deeply saddened as I write this at my desk in Kabul, having just heard the news from Kelly. I have an email box full of emails from friends I will never write again. Some are Marines. Some are Soldiers. Some are Iraqi journalist. One is a shinning young woman who was killed while trying to save a deer. Maybe what they say is true. God takes the very best of us with Him and leaves the rest of us to figure out why.
The Australian service for Hayden and Bridget will be in Hayden’s hometown of Seymour, Friday, November 9 at 6:30pm. That’s 11:30pm Thursday on the U.S. west coast. A second Australian service/party/gig will be held in Melbourne Sunday the 11th at the Northcote Social Club, where B&H were known to enjoy the music and an occasional beverage or two…
Australia is beautiful, Hayden’s family is wonderful and, as much as we’re all committed to doing what we can to make good things come from a bad thing, Mari, Conor, Kelly, Craig and I wish we weren’t here right now– not for this, anyway.
If the journey is the reward, Bridget and Hayden both did very well…
I did not know Bridget well. She and my son Jonathan dated in high school, and I know how important she was to his life at the time. Whenever she was around she lit up a room in ways that are hard to describe. The world is a poorer place without her in it.
My heart goes out to Mari and Kevin, I cannot even begin to imagine what they must be feeling. What can you say other than there is nothing to say? Although time may help to leessen the pain, I know there will always be an emptiness in Mari and Kevin that can never be filled.
Goodbye, Bridget. I wish I had known you better.
I was so sorry to hear of Bridget’s death. She was in my second grade class in Colorado. I remember her as this petite little blonde girl with the big smile, also, friendly, entertaining and smart.I still have a Christmas ornament that she made me and I think of her whenever I unbox the Christmas stuff. The whole family was sorely missed by our school community, when they moved to
AZ. It is evident that Bridget made an impact on everyone she came into contact with and obviously she will be greatly missed. I’m so sorry for your loss.
When I arrived in California to learn english in 2002, 5 years ago already.. I met Bridget throught the Block members.. Mike Franz, Bobby Austin, Ben, Pat and Sean Conaty …Their crazyness… their everyday I don’t care what people think style and their hospitality change my life forever.. They were one family… and Bridget was the sister..who wanted to do everything with her brothers… The same way a big brother will look after his little sister they were all there for her.. and she was all there for them.. They would drive 6 hours to go party in Santa Barbara, LA, San Diego to see each other in their university … That was the year I was there and their sense of loyalty to the Block Members impressed me a lot. At that time they gave me the title of internationnal member of the Block.. .that meaned a lot to me.
When Bridget was photo-reporter for a newspaper in NY I went down there from Montreal to do a documentary on Christmas Trees… my low budget crew and me needed a place to stay… so Bridget opened us her house.. we even had our own room.. the next days she came with us around NY.. with her photo equipement lens and stuff taking pictures of the crew.. Those profesionnals pictures are in my portfolio now… she burned that on a DVD and all the crew was so so excited about those pictures.. I was so proud to be her friend.
Summer 2005.. travellers from California.. Bobby, Fat Pat, Mike Beach and Kangooroo Hayden decided to come visit in Montreal.. Bridget still in NY decided to join the team.. They arrived in my little city called Valleyfield.. summer city.. water city.. We had the crazyest time for the whole weekend.. Beach had this little weird guitar.. and he played music for hours around the fire with Hayden.. They were unstoppable.. This weekend we went at the Regates.. a big boat race.. and everybody there was so surprise to see Californians and an Australian in town.. Once again, I found myself lucky to have such good friends, some crazy traveller.. who will drive or fly from anywhere to everywhere.. to have a good time with the people they care about..Bridget was that kind of person that would do anything to be with the ones she loved anywhere around the world…
Thank you Bridget for your love of life… thank you to the Block Members and to Mike Beach to be who you are.. a little part of Bridget.
I found out about Bridget’s death days ago from a friend. It was a shock. I haven’t seen Bridget since high school but I will always remember her. When she moved I missed her. We wrote. I kept her letters.
I pulled them out when I heard of her death and laughed and cried. She always had such wit and such an incredible sense of humor that even in my despair at losing such a wonderful friend she made me laugh. Thanks Bridget.
I lost touch with Bridget after high school and was so glad to see from this website all the lives she has touched since then and all the excitement and enthusiasm that she continued to have toward life. I envy her for that. She is an inspiration to us all.
One memory that sticks out in my mind of Bridget is this. I remember hanging out at her house in high school in Tucson and listening to the Weezer song, “Buddy Holly”. Bridget sang and danced to that song like it took over her. Her hair flung all over place, her smile spread across her face. She was such a free spirit. She was so happy. She lived in the moment and loved each moment as it came at her and taught us to do the same.
I will always miss you and I’ll try to make you proud. I’ll even take a few pictures for you along the way.
Love,
Jenny Fonda
The Fac-lon
Jenny-fur
Jenny Grimmy
and all the other names you came up for me over the years
I’ve tried writing up some memories of Bridget three or four times now, and I always end up leaving the page blank because the words I come up with seem so flat compared to who she was. But enough stalling. Here are two things that I took away from the year I knew Bridget best, when I was advising her at the Bruin.
1. She taught me way more then I ever taught her. That was true of a couple of students, but let me tell you, it was IMMEDIATELY clear when I met Bridget that she was a lot sharper and more worldly than I.
2. I always felt like Bridget - like nobody else I’d met before or since - could just see right through you. I felt like she had the ability in an instant to see you for who you truly were. I mean that in both minor ways (her b.s. detector was infallible) and big ones.
She lived her life her way, and I admired her like I do few other people.
I’m overwhelmed reading all of the wonderful comments about Bridget. She was my sister-in-law’s cousin. I never got the chance to meet her face to face, but I feel I knew her. Lockng at her pictures. Oh my God, was she loved or what? It’s so sad the such a promising, wonderful, young artist, beautiful person is gone. But here’s the thing. You all appreciated her when she was here with us. She and her lovely husband had a great time. Remember them always-Jennifer-CA
Her passion for photography, her support for friends, and just being a really great person, these are just some of ways which I will always remember Bridget.
Even though I only knew her for a short time, I have always admired Bridget’s accomplishment at the Daily Bruin as a photo editor and photographer. Even though we were cross town rivals (USC Daily Trojan), she was always there to support our photography programs for which I will always be eternally grateful.
She will be greatly missed and the world is just that little bit emptier without her ready smile.
Bridget was an inspiration. I remember visiting her in the middle of the night at the sproul front desk and laughing with her for hours when I couldn’t sleep. Later on in college I remember the beautiful photos she took for our student magazine, tenPercent. She would always shoot our cover photo and was always willing to help in any way she could - never a complaint, even after hours of volunteering. She always brought such a happy and wise energy with her every time I saw her.
A year ago, Kevin and I packed our bags and set off for the Land Down Under. Four months earlier Bridget had informed us that she was getting married to an Aussie. Bridget getting married…She had hinted that it was a possibility when we had seen her in Europe the summer of 2006. She and Hayden had researched it and decided that it was the right thing to do. But it was no big deal, we (her parents) really didn’t need to come all the way to Australia, just for the wedding. Yes, she would love to show us Australia and have us meet Hayden’s parents. “But really the wedding is no big deal, we just want to be married.”
So off we went to Melbourne, where we were greeted by Bridget and a very nervous young man named Hayden. He was very polite, all smiles, and jitters. Bridget said, “I hope you like him, not that it really matters, but it will make it easier.” Needless to say that yes we liked him. How could we not, he managed to capture Bridget’s heart and in the process ours as well. After a late breakfast we drove to Hayden’s parent’s house, as they had asked us to stay with them while we were in Melbourne. “The house” where Bridget, Hayden, Mike, and Pat lived was a little crowded for two over-night guests.
Rod and Sue Sweeney and Hayden’s sister Courtney, welcomed us into their home, which they had lived in for less than a month, where we instantly felt like family. The next day was Sunday and the Sweeneys cooked a huge dinner, a spread to rival Thanksgiving, with traditional and family favorites. B & H received their first wedding gift, a set of towels that Bridget looked at like they were poison. “I didn’t want wedding gifts.” Hayden just smiled and took the towels home.
The Sweeneys let us borrow a car to drive B & H back to “the house.” The four of us took a walk to a park to plan the wedding day, which was the next day Monday April 23, 2007. Bridget pulled out a notebook and started making lists. The conversation went something like this:
“We need to be to the courthouse by 5:00 PM.”
“Let go to St. Kilda for breakfast, mom how much time do you need to get ready…add in time to take the train to Sweeney’s and back downtown…OK we can walk around until till 2:00 PM.”
“Are we meeting in the park before hand?”
“We should have some food if we do.”
“OK…strawberries, crackers, cheese, champagne…oh, we’ll need to go to the store and get plates, cups, napkins…How many people are coming?
“I think we’re at 11.”
“Let’s not meet for food in the park, this is getting too complicated.”
“Did Holly book the restaurant for after?”
“Yeah, they said Monday night?…No worries, mate.”
And so we had breakfast in St. Kilda (kinda like Santa Cruz) and walked and talked and got to know our soon to be son-in-law. Rode the train to the Sweeney’s, rode the train back downtown and met the rest of the group at the courthouse.
The ceremony took slightly less time than the seatbelt safety demonstration on the flight down. They were supposed to get married in the room that seats eight people, but since we were 11, and it was Monday night at 5:00, they let us have the big room, at no extra charge. Bridget and Hayden met the magistrate and she started to go over the details…
Magistrate: Attendants?
Bridget and Hayden in unison: No
Flowers?
No…Can you turn off the music? (1970s love songs)
Sure… Rings?
No
OK, you can choose a short ceremony or a slightly longer one.
Short!
OK…let’s get started.
After the very short exchange of vows we were off to the Vietnamese restaurant for the wedding reception. Champagne and beer flowed, the food was good, and we all had a great time. The younger crowd (all seven of them) went on to party late into the night and the parent-in-laws went back to the Sweeney’s.
Through all of this and on into the next week, when Bridget and Hayden traveled with Kevin and me to Sydney, we caught glimpses of the affection and love that the newlyweds shared, a look, a touch, a smile. We were so glad to be a part of their lives as they set out on this new adventure of being married. In the months that followed we could sense that Bridget was becoming settled with where she was in life. She had found someone to share her life with and they were planning their future together. It’s just that none of us knew how little time they had.
8-8-08. The Olympics in China start this Friday. It would have been Bridget’s day, her 27th birthday, and one she would have really enjoyed.
Bridget was born on 8-8-81 at 12:08 am, and weighed 8 pounds 8 ounces. Not surprisingly, 8 became “her number”. She picked it for all of her sports jerseys and anything else that required a number for identification. As a freshman she even talked her high school softball coach into giving her number 8 over a senior player.
Like most kids, Bridget had a lot of fun birthdays growing up. She loved to have friends over and play as many games as possible. Over the years there were piñatas, balloon tosses, three-legged races and a lot of improvised competition. As an August baby she had pool parties with relay races and diving contests, usually followed by sleep-overs that never seemed to involve much sleep. Bridget’s first destination birthday was to Hawaii for her 16th. OK, it was a family vacation that overlapped her birthday, but it was a pretty special day for all of us.
Once Bridget went away to college her birthdays were almost always spent with friends away from home. In one of her journals she made a list of the different places she spent August 8th through her life and noted that she wanted to keep adding to the list.
So, if you helped Bridget celebrate a birthday, we invite you to write about it if you’d like to share a bit.
Las Vegas…San Jose…Denver…Tucson…Reno…Sacramento…Los Angeles…Washington, D.C….San Clemente…New York…Chile…Paris…Melbourne…?
What fun/trouble/excitement would Bridget, Hayden and mates have gotten into this year to celebrate 8-8-08? We can only imagine, but we’re pretty sure it would have been a birthday to remember.
Happy birthday Bridget!
Love,
Mom & Dad
I believe the plans include the second annual Mike and Bridget French Riviera Birthday Party. Basically an easy excuse to dress up and drink champagne. Lots of people looking and acting silly in bridget’s honor. Well suited. happy birthday bridgo!
Thinking of our beautiful friend and her family on her birthday. Missing her endlessly, would love nothing more than to dance and drink cheap champagne French riviera style like last year with her and Hayden!
Lots of love,
Suzanne.
Well, it’s 8 past midnight on 08/08/08. Happy Birthday Bridget. It doesn’t quite fell right to be saying it but it wouldn’t feel right not to. I remember at the stroke of midnight on my 21st birthday, a rare occasion the Bridget happened to be home. I was up late typing a paper that was inevitably due the next day. Bridget came in with a two shot glasses, one for her and one for me, and she shared some Chilean Pisco with me as my first legal drink. Every year for the past four years I’ve had a shot of pisco on my birthday, and I feel it appropriate to have one now. Cheers Bridge.
The first and only birthhday we celebrated with Bridget was her 26th in 2007 in Melbourne. Hayden and Bridget came to our house for dinner and birthday cake, and of course the present I had been patiently waiting to give her. I got the impression I should be shopping for something practical and useful so we decided on a new scrabble game, chocolates and cash. ( all approved by H before of course, just in case we embarassed him with our choice of gift). Then with much pleasure I contributed some food for the now famous French Riviera bash for Mike and Bridget’s special days combined. H and B were very proud to show off the contents of the fridge, it was absolutley full of champagne. By all accounts it was a great night. This year the party will still go ahead only one of the guests of honour will be present. There will still be birthday cake, I will see to that and I’m sure the champagne will flow. Rod, Courtney and I had looked forward to so many more birthday’s together with Bridget and Hayden, we will just have to raise our glasses and cut the cake for them.
So, Happy Birthday Bridget, we miss you so much. 8/8/08
The only recent birthday I was fortunate enough to spend with my sister was her 25th when she was living in Paris. I had grand plans of taking her out to dinner and checking out some for her favorite bars in the city, but she was working a double at Fat Tire. We settled on a quick lunch instead.
I had just finished 9 months of study abroad in Denmark and had learned a few of the more, er, interesting Danish traditions. In Denmark, when you turn 25 and are unmarried your friends and family throw cinnamon all over you for good luck. When you turn 30, rice is thrown. And if you make it 40 without being married, you’re pelted with stones to teach you a lesson.
Being her 25th, I decide to bring Denmark to Paris and bought as much cinnamon as I could find. When I went into the Fat Tire office, Bridge was working on a computer and I proceeded to cover her with the cinnamon. It made a much larger mess than I had anticipated, prompting everyone in the office to stop and stare, including Bridge who looked at me with anger and confusion as she coughed from the thick cloud of spice in the air around her.
Slightly baffled, I explained the funny (hilarious even) tradition in the hopes that the angry glare would stop. It did and was quickly replaced by a look of embarrassment – she had not told anyone in the office it was her birthday! I blew her cover. She didn’t want her birthday to be a big deal with her co-workers and now it was going to be. Oops.
However, I think she came to appreciate the gesture, though she later told me the clean up was a bit of a challenge and, yes, everyone made a big deal of her birthday. After brushing off as much of the cinnamon as she could, we went and enjoyed a lunch of beer and crepes around the corner from the Eifel Tower.
I asked her to be a bridesmaid in my wedding and to my surprise she agreed without hesitation. Though the time together was short I think that day we came to understand each other better than we ever had before. For that, I am grateful. Happy Birthday Bridge!
Happy Birthday Bridge! I miss you - it feels wierd not to talk to you today…but thinking about you always…
I never spent a birthday with Bridget, but her birthday always had a special meaning to me. The quarter Bridget lived out of her truck, I was living with Mari Nicholson and Kate Anderson in a sweet apartment with a spiral staircase at 747 Gayley. Bridget stayed with us many times that quarter – thanks to our fold-out couch and a nice long trip to Hawaii that left my bed available for about 9 days. Mari and I shared a birthday – March 1. Kate and Bridget shared a birthday – August 8.
And boy did we think that was cool.
When Bridget would stay with us that quarter, we always had a blast. As Mari wrote about above, we coined, “What would Bridget do?” that quarter. We ate her delicious brownies. We watched movies projected on the walls of the roof (I believe Bridget and Tyson had a hand in “borrowing” the projector from Student Media). It was really fun. It always was when Bridget was around. Happy Birthday!
Happy Birthday Bridget! I’m drinking a beer in honor of your birthday right now! Miss you!
I never spent a birthday with Bridget. I wish I had. It’s easy to regret stuff like that now. But I know I definitely celebrated other people’s birthdays with Bridget around and leading the fun, I’m sure.
Happy 27th birthday Bridget…I think about you everyday. I hope you have infinite brownies, beer and everything else today. You are missed!
Also, Kelly, that cinnamon story is pretty awesome
Thanks for a great laugh.
Happy Birthday Bridget. Happy Bridget’s birthday to Kevin, Mari, Conor, Kelly and Craig. I have no specific birthday memory about Bridget. I just remember that before Bridget was born, August was the only month in the year that there was not a family birthday, a national holiday, or a greeting card holiday. It was a month to relax and spend your money on yourself. Bridget changed all that; as she had a habit of changing things all her life. August is now a month of other family birthdays (my husband Dave, my nephew Tom, and my other nephew Craig). August will always be Bridget’s birthday too. 8-8-81 changed all of our worlds for the better.
Memories on 8-8-08: Bridget used to tell me that she didn’t really believe in birthday presents. If you had something to give someone, you should give it whatever time of year it might be. If you didn’t have anything to give, there was no use coming up with a present just because it was someone’s birthday … so when I gave Bridget a long-deck skateboard in the summer after our first year of college, it was just because I thought she might like a skateboard. Bridget told me her mom, Mari, had the following response: “Why?!?” … Bridget came to New York and Washington, DC in 2000 to visit the boys from the block on our trip around the United States. We celebrated her 19th birthday in Washington. When I told someone she was 18, forgetting what day it was, Bridget gave me one of those looks that Cuauhtemoc described so perfectly up above … The next year we celebrated both our birthdays in San Clemente, my family’s regular vacation spot. No big deal. Cake and ice cream and candles. We went fishing one morning. We caught nothing… For my 21st the next summer, Bridget drove from Sacramento to Los Angeles with the rest of the block. Me being me, I lost both my IDs (real and fake) and we couldn’t celebrate at the bars. We threw a small but rocking party at my Landfair apartment. It consisted of Weezer, the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and Beer Mohawks. That was about a week before Bridget left for Chile … I was back in San Clemente with my family and she was in Valparaiso for her 21st. We exchanged e-mails and a phone call. I forget exactly how she celebrated, but I think it involved pisco, Chilean beer and returning to her host family’s home at cuatro en la madrugada … I wish more than anything I could be at the Mike and Bridget French Riviera Birthday Party … Happy birthday, Mike. Happy birthday, Bridget. We’ll pour one out for you … And one more thing: Marty Rayburn has until June 13, 2010 to get married. I’m stockpiling cinnamon ….
Happy b-day Bridget! I will remember laughing about your study technique, singing along to Hedvig for the first time, and all the moments of unsolicited and needed compassion you extended to me in down times. I think back on celebrations during our time at UCLA and none would be the same without Bridget — cheers, and here’s to many more in her memory.
One year ago today, October 18, 2007, our lives were turned upside down. It is hard to believe that so much time has passed since the accident that took Bridget’s and Hayden’s lives. The news was so unbelievable, so numbing, so devastating. We have been in awe of the outpouring of love from friends, and of course all our family (on both sides of the globe). You have all made this past year just a little more bearable.
The Sweeneys — Rod, Sue, and Courtney, and the O’Briens — Kevin, Mari, Conor; and Kelly and Craig Paras, are together again this year, brought together to mark the passage of time and, today, to attend the wedding of Bridget’s cousin Alison O’Brien and Matt Ramey in Sonoma County, California. We’re all traveling together, Bridget and Hayden would be happy about that. We’re telling a lot of stories about them, too, which they’d probably enjoy a bit less, but it helps us.
Monday we’ll all fly to New York for the better part of a week, where Hayden and Bridget first met, to do touristy things, visit some of their favorite haunts and watch the re-grouped Electric Jellyfish perform in New York City and Brooklyn as they continue their first tour of America without Hayden. After that it’s on to Cleveland for a couple of days, to remember the place they were last together and, in their honor, tour the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. The next stop will be Los Angeles for a few days, then a tour up the Coast Highway to Monterey, and back to Sacramento.
We’re enjoying our time together, smiling a bit more the best we can, and forever appreciative of you for thinking of us and keeping the memories of Bridget and Hayden alive in whatever positive (and possibly irreverent) way you choose.
So now it’s time to leave for the wedding — to celebrate a new marriage, visit with extended family and friends, and to know that, despite the vows we’ll hear, “until death do us part” doesn’t always signal the end.