Jacob Duncan Dannels’ voice resonated through the Village Park last Thursday, suavely crooning “‘L’ is for the way you look at me” from a loudspeaker.But Dannels himself was present only in photographs and in the hearts of over 70 students and faculty members who had come together not to mourn his death, but to celebrate his life.The senior musical theater major was diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukemia in the spring and fought the disease courageously until Wednesday, Nov. 23, when he passed away at West Penn Hospital with his family at his side.In his commemoration, the Point Park University community that interacted with Dannels over the past four years joined together to speak and write of the impact he made on their lives simply by living his.The evening was orchestrated by junior broadcasting major Alex Peterson and senior sport, arts and entertainment management major Samantha Danaher, two of Dannels’ past roommates and closest friends.The memorial began with photo slideshows set to recordings of Dannels’ “angelic voice” singing the 1930s ballad “I’ll Be Seeing You” by Bing Crosby and “Mama” by Il Divo, amongst many others, and Peterson and Danaher both read personal dedications to the remembrance of their friend.Peterson recalled Dannels’ wholehearted interest in everyone he encountered and that it was an innate part of his character. “He approached anyone and selflessly interacted with them, just so their day was a little more enjoyable,” Peterson said. “He could talk about anything: books, a club, a class, relationship problems or a party they were both at, and he was the only one that remembered who they were.”Peterson also highlighted several stories that allowed Dannels’ exuberant personality and positive outlook to shine through. One day during Dannels’ early chemotherapy treatments, he sent Peterson – who was having a rough day – a text message that read, “Hey, can I ask you a question? It’s very serious and it requires a very serious answer.””Immediately, I thought something went wrong,” Peterson said. “Was he OK? Did he need something? To this, Jake replied, ‘Do you know the muffin man?’ I typed back, ‘I’m moving out,’ and he replied with a smiley face. That’s how easy it was for him to lift me up, as well as everyone around him.”While Peterson’s stories showcased Dannels’ sense of humor, they also proved his consistent courage and optimism, even on his worst days.”I asked him if he was scared, and he responded with, ‘No, why? Do you know something that I don’t?’ Peterson said. “That’s just how he was.”Danaher spoke next at the memorial, her voice wavering as she admitted, “I didn’t think that I could write about Jake and do him any justice, so I wrote a letter to him.”She remembered Dannels’ “crazy phases,”- such as juggling, knitting, painting, bread-baking and blogging – and the constant joke of the “common law marriage [they] would end up having.””After this past week and seeing how many peoples’ live you’ve touched, I’m honored to have been one of your close friends,” she said. “When I’ve thought about important events in my future, you were always a part of them … you would be at my wedding; and you would know my kids; and you would visit my family and when we were old, the arguing and complaining we did together would just get even worse. But I know that you’ll still be there for all of that, because I’m never letting you go, and I know that you would never leave me either.”The pair then opened the opportunity to anyone in attendance to come and share memories. Liz Velez, a senior secondary education major, was one of them.She did not know Dannels until they both attended the 2010 Habitat for Humanity trip to New Orleans.Even though it only lasted a week, “every time I saw him after that, it was like he was my best friend,” she said Thursday after the memorial.She recalled that Dannels was “much too perky, much too early in the morning;” he snored when he slept and he could sleep almost anywhere. But what she remembered most was his genuine selflessness.”He was the heart and soul of that trip, and the heart and soul of many people’s lives,” Velez said, closing her eyes. “It only took meeting him once for him to impact you.”The university also extended an invitation to Dannels’ parents, Fred and Mary Jo, allowing them the opportunity to see their son’s lasting impression on his home away from home.Fred Dannels thanked everyone for attending and said a few words about his son, describing him as “a beautiful person,” and attributing his “sweetness and kindness” to his wife and the “hard work, determination and fine art of snoring” to himself. He also expressed his surprise at the amount of people who knew and loved his son, who drew over 700 people to his funeral in York.”What it taught me was that you really do reap what you sow, and if you sow friendship and love and caring, it’ll come back to you,” Fred Dannels said to the audience. “At 53 years old, my 22-year-old son has taught me that.”Throughout the long, exhausting ordeal, he said his son was “never cross or angry,” and if he was, no one ever knew it. He treated the nurses, aides and doctors “like gold.”Even after Dannels’ stem cell and bone marrow transplant in October, he was on track to receive his degree this semester.”He was still studying,” Fred Dannels said. “He had two online courses … and was still trying to do some homework because he wanted to graduate. He wanted to get a job. He wanted spending money. He already had a Volvo picked out.”