Like so many kids sandwiched between the ages of my own children, Logan Taylor was one of those who grew up in my peripheral vision.

He was there, cheering and joking around on the sidelines when my girls played softball years ago and were coached by his mother, Lita Taylor. He must have been about 8 that year, and those are my first recollections of Logan. A bright-eyed, energetic charmer.

Through the years I saw him at countless school and sporting events. He was always there, part of Whitefish's youthful fabric.

It sounds cliche to say his bright light was snuffed out too soon, but it was. Those who knew him, those who know his parents and family, are still in the throes of the raw grief left in the aftermath of the lake accident that claimed his life.

He is simply gone too soon from this world.

I never had any in-depth conversations with Logan, but I know just from observing him, that he oozed charisma and people seemed inexplicitly drawn to him.

Over the past year, I'd seen Logan more often. Our foreign-exchange student, Ingrid, hung out with him and his circle of friends. I remember watching the Whitefish Winter Carnival parade with Ingrid, and how Logan pulled her from the crowd up onto the senior float, encouraging her to be a part of the moment.

I believe Logan lived in the moment and lived each moment to the fullest. I also observed how he seemed to facilitate other people's happiness. He always wanted to make sure everyone was having a good time. His friends said he'd do anything for anyone, no questions asked.

He also had an intensity and passion for soccer that made his coaches take note.

Those of us who witnessed the grand march at the Whitefish High School prom this year got a glimpse of his fun-loving nature, as he made a grand entrance with an outrageous red suit and wide-brimmed hat. He wanted to make a statement, and he succeeded. He made us smile.

We're left to wonder why tragedy came calling that sunny Friday afternoon, when all three boys wanted to do was swim, goof around and have a good time.

We're left to remember the good times, the times he made us smile, the times he made us proud, this hometown boy, taken from us too soon.

Lynnette Hintze is the editor of the Whitefish Pilot.