In the sticky heat of this past August, Katie Shearer and her friends went skydiving. Everyone was excited but nervous, except for Katie, who was everything but nervous.
While the others felt sick to their stomachs, Katie munched on food, eager to get up in the air.
She was the first to jump, somersaulting head first from the plane with the skydiving instructor—a move only experienced skydivers are normally allowed to attempt. She had a smile on her face while she spun multiple times in the backdrop of the blue summer sky.
The trip was important to Katie, who was diagnosed with malignant melanoma in October 2006. Even after her diagnosis, Katie insisted that her life continue as normal, and that every day she would live it to the fullest.
Before she died on Jan. 11, Katie said that she had fulfilled everything she wanted in life, and many admirers have recognized this 24-year-old as being wise beyond her years.
Of her many passions, school was the one that she wished to finish before she passed.
In the months before she died, Katie was clearly sick from cancer but still doing homework. Motivated by her own personal fortitude, Katie received the first degree ever to be given without full completion of classes. She continued to go to class every day, take notes and get A’s nearly two and a half years after she was diagnosed with cancer.
“She was so strong to continue with her education and wanting to get her degree even though she was dying,” said Joe Maser, environmental sciences professor and Katie’s advisor.
By early December, Katie was only two classes short of attaining her degree when her oncologist informed her that she had only days to live. Moved by her perseverance and deep dedication to education, Katie’s family and instructors requested that she be given her diploma before she passed.
A few days later at her home in Beaverton, Katie was thrown a surprise graduation party. It was Dec. 12 and all of Katie’s friends and family gathered in her living room waiting for her.
Led by her siblings, with a pillow in front of her face, she walked into the living room where more than 50 people began humming the familiar graduation tune “Pomp and Circumstance.” She was laughing with tears of happiness as she opened her eyes and the light of camera flashes lit up her face.
Katie’s four professors then presented her with a diploma. She graduated that day cum laude with a Bachelor of Science degree in environmental studies, and a minor in geography.
“We gave Katie her diploma and she was moved by the whole thing,” Maser said. “We all were.”
Maser said that he could always tell who was a good student. They ask good questions and are always trying to get more information, analyze and process, he said.
“That was Katie,” Maser said. “She was a very dedicated student.”
Katie loved life and she seized every moment of every day.
“When she told me she was dying, she said that she was satisfied with her life, and she had all she needed,” said Laura Robinson, Katie’s close friend and fellow classmate.
After her diagnosis, Katie went through cancer treatment many times a week, yet she continued to go to school while missing only a few classes. Katie didn’t want cancer to interrupt the way she lived, and she didn’t want people to treat her differently.
Katie loved spending time with family and friends. Before she died, she wanted to experience everything she could. New restaurants, new movies, new books, barbeques, wine bars—anything spontaneous she wanted to do, and she did.
“Katie loved everything,” Robinson said. “She made friends everywhere she went. She sincerely cared about everyone she met. One of the main reasons she kept living was for her mother and her family.”
As the oldest of five siblings, Katie acted as the second mother of the house, and even when she was sick, she would take the kids to school and stay with them when they needed her.
“Towards the end, when she was getting very sick, she was doing things for other people, not herself,” Robinson said.
Katie never seemed upset with the fact that she would die sooner than most. She never cried about it in front of anyone, Robinson said. And when she finally cried this last November, it was when she found she had to quit school because the clinical trials were not working.
Katie always liked the Latin mottos “memento mori,” or “remember you’re mortal,” and “supere aude,” which means “dare.” Both are inscribed on white bracelets worn by all those who loved her and whom she parted with when she passed away last month.