I live near a used book store in the Mission, Dog-Eared Books. In the window, they have little hand-drawn obituaries for various people, mostly famous writers and revolutionaries. I really like them and usually read one or two when I walk by.
A couple of weeks ago, I stopped to read one and realized that it was not about a famous writer or a revolutionary. It was for one of my college math professors, Dr. Curtis Barefoot.
Dr. Barefoot taught me how to prove theorems; I remember in particular that proof by induction was kicking my ass until he sat down and explained to me that I could only change one side of the equation at a time. I remember spending a great summer competing with a friend to get the highest grade in his combinatorics class (I won by .01 percent).
San Francisco is full of coincidences and chance meetings, but so far this is the least explicable.