When Jennifer Swihart met Nathan Trapuzzano, he was an introverted college student — “I was the social one’’ — but she loved talking to him.
“I don’t think he ever said anything without thinking about it. He was passionate about Greek and Latin, his faith and his friends and his family. If you made it into one of his passions, you’d get his attention and his interest.”
She made it in. He asked her to dinner. “He did his best to make it known it was a date without saying, “I want to go on a date with you.’ ’’
The two Ball State University students fell in love. Nathan graduated summa cum laude in classical studies in 2011 and they were married in May 2013. A self-taught computer programmer, he was the sole provider while his wife was in grad school studying to be a physician assistant.
In April 2013, living in Indianapolis with Jennifer expecting their first child the following month, Nathan took an early morning fitness walk — and a 16-year-old shot and killed him. Simeon Adams would plead guilty a year later and be sentenced to 55 years in prison.
The Trapuzzanos were not yet married a year. Nathan was not yet 25. He would never hold his daughter, Cecilia Marie. But Jennifer Trappuzano told a local news station upon Adams’ sentencing that she forgave his killer, though he had shown no remorse.
“Christ prayed and forgave those that persecuted him while he was on the cross,’’ she told WTHR in Indianapolis. “Nate and I, when we got married, we promised each other to live as closely to Christ as we could. We are not perfect. We are not God. But I know that Nate in his final moments would have still strived to be like him.
“It had to come from evil,’’ she said Wednesday of the shooting. “Evil doesn’t come from God, but God can overcome evil. I couldn’t say [Simeon Adams’] name for a long time, but I could pray for his soul.’’
It’s hard to top such faith, but a memorial foundation was created in Nathan’s name. It provides relief to children who have lost a parent. The fourth annual Nate Walk will be held at 11 a.m. Sunday in Blueberry Hill Park in Franklin Park. Jennifer and Cecilia, now 4 years old and with dark curly hair like her father, will be there for the 5-kilometer walk in the park that’s just a mile from where Nate grew up.
He was the fourth of five children, the middle of the three sons, and when he was home from college, he’d walk that park with his mother, Cheryl. She’d taken long walks there five mornings a week since he was a little boy.
“I don’t think there’s a day that goes by that I don’t shed a tear or two for my son,” Cheryl Trapuzzano said, “and for myself as well.”
It’s bittersweet to see the turnout for his cause each year, and it’s hard asking people to give even $20 for the registration. But this is a time when her far-flung family returns and “I think of all the things Nathan would have done if he were alive, so we do for him what he couldn’t do for other people,’’ his mother said.
“My brother loved kids,’’ his older brother, Matthew Trapuzzano, of Tampa, Fla. said. “We couldn’t think of a better way to commemorate him or remember him.’’
The fund purposely does not stipulate how the money should be used, but Ms. Trapuzzano knows they’ve helped a couple of families in this area, one of whom lost a parent after surgery and another in a car accident. The two-page application for assistance can be downloaded from www.thenathanfoundation.org. The mailing address is The Nathan Trapuzzano Memorial Foundation; PO Box 608; Lewis Center, Ohio 43035.
Walks are also held each spring in Indianapolis around the time of Nate’s May 17 birthday. Little Cecilia loves these walks, her mother said, and the one in Blueberry Hill Park will include a food truck, vendors, live music from John McCann and, of course, a commemorative T-shirt.
“We make the checks out to the kids,’’ Cheryl Trapuzzano said. “We hope and trust the parents put it to good use.’’
Columns such as these generally demand some profound insight in conclusion, but no words could match the actions of a family and their allies demonstrating what true Christianity looks like.
Brian O’Neill: boneill@post-gazette.com or 412-263-1947 or Twitter @brotheroneill
First Published: October 18, 2018, 10:00 a.m.
