My name is Reed and I'm here as Mark was my best friend. I'm sure I'm not the only one here who felt that way about him. He had a heart big enough for all of us.

We may have known him by many different names such as Snake a name he gave himself during a fifties style homecoming celebration in High School when he dressed himself in black leathers with chains hanging out of his pockets and greased his hair back. You might have known him as Sparky. In airports or country clubs it was not uncommon for him to be paged as Doctor Julius Pfeifer. For me after we saw the movie Strange Brew staring Rick Moranis and Dave Thomas as the McKenzie Brothers he was always known as Hoser.

Mark was also mistaken for many other people throughout his life. Tony Ventrella the sportscaster from Seattle, Warren Beattie, Keanu Reeves come to mind and being the wonderful gentleman he was he never corrected anyone who made such a mistake.

Mark and I went to Jr. Hi and High School together. We knew each other through the first 5 of those years, but in our senior year we started hanging out together and became friends. Over the course of the next couple of years Mark became my best friend and even though he has left this place he will remain that forever. Mark was the best man at my wedding and I stood with him when he married Maureen. We saw each other through the tough times in our lives and many of the very best moments of my life were spent with Mark.

Although he never knew it he was my hero. You see Mark had all the qualities that I wished that I had. He loved life and extracted the maximum amount of pleasure from each and every day. He was larger than life. When he entered the room it suddenly seemed full. He didn't over power it, but you knew he was special and you could sense his presence. He was always smiling, laughing, was an excellent listener, and most of all never took himself too seriously. He was fearless in any situation in both business and life.

Upon first meeting Mark you might have thought him to be a bit of a nerd or even a little different, but that was because he was so casual, so unassuming, and more comfortable in his own skin than any human being I have ever met. If you gave him just a little time it was impossible not to like him and if you got to know him well, you would want to count him as your friend.

He was never unkind or hurtful, accepted everyone as an equal and never said no to a friend in need. He had a wonderful sense of humor and loved being the butt of a good practical joke as well as playing one on a friend. He was honest, loyal and always was willing to take the time to listen. He provided a shoulder to cry on, but would also provide a swift kick if that is what was called for. Fred and Toby you should be proud because Mark was what Tom Wolfe would call "A Man In Full" and that would not have been possible without you as his parents.

Mark was a husband and was never happier than when he met, fell in love with and married Maureen. He cherished and adored you and it was clearly apparent that you were the perfect compliment to him. You provided the balance and stability in his life and every time I spoke with him he always made it abundantly clear how much joy you brought to his life. If he, like most men neglected to let you know that I'm doing so now and I know his love will be with you as you move forward through the next few weeks and months. I also know that from this moment forward all he would ever hope for is your happiness.

Mark was a father and dearly loved all of his children. I remember him telling me how excited he was when Maureen and he decided to start a family. He knew that in the past he had spent way too much time on the road, climbing the corporate ladder and vowed to spend more time at home with his new babies and to attempt to make up for lost time his older children. When he was about to be laid off from Progressive he was very pleased that this would allow him time to be with his kids. I know that one of his greatest joys was putting his toddlers in the jogging stroller and going for a run finished off with him taking them swimming in the community pool. He was thrilled when first Jamison and then Brittany moved to California to live with him and attend school.

By this time some of you may think that I'm trying to say that Mark was perfect, but those of you that knew him well know that this was not the case, for Mark had many endearing qualities that I liked to call Pfeiferisms.

Mark had what some might call a hobby, but most of us would call an obsession. He loved to water ski and not much would come between him and skiing. This was made abundantly clear to me on the many occasions when I would agree to pick Mark up to go out at a certain time and upon arrival instead of finding him dressed and ready to go he would be in the lake or the river still skiing or by the many times on the way to dinner we would have to stop by the lake first so he could make a couple of passes through the buoys before the sun went down while those of us with him slowly slipped away to nothing while starving to death. I remember calling Mark on New Years Day one year when he was living in Spokane and he shared that he had just finished skiing. I think it is safe to say that Mark was the only traveling salesman who carried his slalom ski with him when he traveled just in case he met someone with a boat. Where as most of us aspire to join a golf, tennis, or athletic club, Mark was elated when he discovered after moving here that he could buy a membership in a private water skiing lake.

Mark was not a cheap person and always paid his way, bought his share of drinks or meals, but he was legendary in his desire to save a buck, never hesitating to drive an extra mile or make an extra stop to take advantage of a bargain. Making plans to go out to dinner with Mark was always an adventure as not only was he usually late, but would never hesitate to suggest that maybe we should go somewhere else than planned as there was a special or he found a 2 for 1 coupon. With his gift for persuasion that meal that you had been tasting and waiting for the whole week or day would slowly disappear as you succumbed to his desire to save a few pennies. I'm not sure where all those savings went, but I think they might have had something to do with a new ski boat. I think that it might also be true that if you were to look into Mark's clothes closet you would recognize items that he wore in high school and again last month. He had this one pair of moccasin-like boots that I'm sure are still around unless Maureen got a hold of them and threw them out when he wasn't paying attention. I swear he had those things on his feet every time I saw him from High School to well into his forties.

Mark was an upland bird hunter not so much as he loved it, but because it humored me and his dad, but he was the kind of guy who would do something with you even if he didn't enjoy it as much as you did. He was equally loved by his hunting companions and the birds. His companions loved him as there was no hill too steep, no walk too long, no cover to thick for him to chase birds out of. He had a unique and wondrous nose and although he was not as good at finding birds with it as a hunting dog if you didn't have a dog you would definitely want Mark along as he was an excellent retriever. His marksmanship skills were unmatched. When a large covey of quail would burst out of the cover literally filling the sky with so many birds that you could shoot one by closing your eyes and and firing a BB gun, Mark would somehow be able to fire his shotgun through the one patch of air that contained no birds. So if the hunting was good and you were his partner he was great to be with as you would get to take two limits. There were a few things that you needed to be aware of when hunting with Mark:

Never get into cover over your head because even though Mark might not be able to hit a pheasant he was quite capable of zinging a few pellets past your orange cap.

Never let Mark make lunch the night before as he liked pickles on his sandwiches. I'm not sure of the chemistry, but when cheese and pickle juice sit between two pieces of bread all night, you wind up with this foul tasting nasty smelling gob of goo that even a dog won't eat. As Jamison can attest, if you were his young son it would never be wise to let him help you across a creek because more than likely you were going to end up in the creek instead of on the other side.

Mark was a joy. He was Ferris Bueller to my Cameron. He made me laugh constantly, encouraged me to loosen up, relax and not take things so seriously. His footprints will indelibly be printed all over my life. I will carry him with me wherever life takes me and I will hold him deep within my heart and soul.

One day, sometime in the future when I leave this earth to join my father in heaven, I will follow a path that Mark left for me. After being there awhile I will go exploring late one summer evening. I will come upon a lake. The setting sun will be reflecting off the perfectly still water. The air will still hold heat of the warm day and there will be no breeze. I will sit on the bank and the warm memories of my friend Mark will come to me and I will quietly laugh as I think of one of our many adventures. Suddenly the silence of the moment will be broken as the faint sound of a boat arrives out of the distance. As the sound grows a boat with a skier behind it will appear from around the bend and little orange buoys will drop from the sky. My heart will skip a beat and a broad smile will land on my face as I realize that it is my friend Mark. The boat will come to shore and he'll say hop in hoser I want to make one more pass before the sun sets. Take two feet off the rope will you. The boat will head back to the buoys with Mark in tow a look of determination and sheer heavenly bliss on his face. He will lay out for the first buoy his shoulder mere inches from the surface - his ski sending a giant wall of water into the sky only to cascade down again like a spring water fall. Little rainbows will appear on the horizon. His ski will gracefully carve it's way around each buoy much like he gracefully carved his way through life and he will achieve the perfect pass.

When he finishes and he makes his way towards the boat he will say "Pretty amazing, huh?" And I'll say "Yeah, Great skiing!" and he'll say "No, not that." and I'll say "What?" and he'll say "First time ever I had to wait for you!" and I'll say "Yeah, pretty amazing!"

He'll climb in the boat and we will start to shake hands, then without thinking hug. I'll say "There's something I forgot to tell you way back when..." and he'll say "Yeah, I know, me too."

-Reed Martin