Colin Elder Davis

Colin was an exceptionally bright, curious, witty, and sensitive human being, a beloved son, and trusted friend. Colin was born on November 9, 1994, in Madison, Wisconsin, and had big dreams of making a difference in the world from an early age. He earned a BA in physics with minors in philosophy and modern languages from Beloit College in 2017 and was pursuing a PhD in aerospace engineering at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute when his life was cut short in the summer of 2020. His hope was to find ways to efficiently capture solar energy in space and transfer it to Earth.

He loved physics, as it was a way to understand the building blocks of the universe. Languages were another way to understand the world, and he was conversant in Latin, German and Japanese, and was teaching himself Arabic and Russian. He was also passionate about history.

Colin wrestled with severe anxiety and depression in his teens and twenties, but battled through to learn and to support his friends. He was driven, in part, by hopes of somehow giving back to the world, and to those who had helped him along his journey. He loved helping others learn, and often tutored fellow students. He felt that with great gifts, came great responsibility—considerable weight for young shoulders to bear.

He was a master of puns and could extend a logical argument to exhaustive levels, and he embraced humor as a way to navigate the world and help others understand the complexities of his challenges.

Colin loved beef stroganoff, raspberry shakes from Michaels Frozen Custard, tres leches cake and our traditional Christmas dinner, from the first bite through the Wisconsin plum pudding. He loved thunderstorms—intensely. He also liked a good blizzard.  

He loved his sweet and goofy childhood cat, Comet. He was deeply loyal to his close friends.

He had enormous respect for Carl Sagan, and for Mr. Rogers for their authenticity and humanity.  He respected his grandfathers’ service in World War II.

He felt some of Shakespeare’s plots were contrived; but loved the plays of George Bernard Shaw—especially Major Barbara. He loved the movie Das Boot. 

He was bewildered that so many people could not see the lessons of history. He hated hypocrisy, crowds, and noise. His wit was clever and sometimes sharp, and he would communicate so much in a sideways glance or raised eyebrow that it could stop a conversation or wither a critique, yet it was never mean-spirited. 

The gaming world offered him ways to to exercise his strategic skills, and to use his mathmatical prowess to unpack the algorythms behind game design. It also opened up lasting friendships around the world. He always won at family Scrabble games, as he not only had an extraordinary vocabulary, his ability to understand patterns and maximize scores gave him great advantage.

He had remarkable grit, and fought so hard to overcome his challenges. As a dear friend noted, if there is a heaven, he is probably discussing the fine points of cosmology with the angels.