The question was rhetorical. The answer, a given.
Though acknowledging that he hadn't known Drew Everson nearly as well as so many of those attending a memorial service Wednesday, Duke President Richard Brodhead told his story of his first interaction with the popular student.
Though just a freshman, Everson stood out at the mixer for new students Brodhead hosted several years ago. He was the extrovert, the one with a little more self-confidence, a little more pizazz to his personality. The one you noticed.
"I, too, knew him," Brodhead said, speaking after several of Everson's friends told stories about their fallen buddy. "Because is there anyone at Duke who didn't know him?"
Everson died Sunday after what the university has deemed an accidental fall. On Wednesday, mourners packed Duke Chapel to laugh and cry and remember a student they insisted was not your ordinary 21-year-old.
It was a ceremony marked by light moments and wrenching ones, as friend after friend tried to explain Everson's particular brand of interpersonal magic.
They spoke of his many loves - Duke basketball, deep debate and a good scotch whiskey.
They spoke of his dedication and loyalty to his friends, and his uncanny knack for always being the best shoulder to cry on.
"Drew was the person to call about absolutely anything," said Lauren Haigler, a friend Everson comforted as she struggled with her parents' divorce. "He was the perfect friend."
As his friends describe him, Everson was one of those devour-and-cherish-every-moment sorts - like the time he and friends jumped into a fountain in downtown Indianapolis at 4 a.m. earlier this year after having watched Duke win the national basketball title in that city.
Another friend, Matt Byrne, read aloud a letter to Everson.
"You see beyond the superficial," he said. "You see me for who I am."
There were more than 1,000 mourners at Duke Chapel Wednesday, and for the most part, they seemed to hold it together.
Until the end.
That's when Edie Wellman, another Duke student, closed the memorial with a poignant, utterly brave solo. Saluting her friend by wearing a Led Zeppelin T-shirt and strumming a guitar, Wellman sang the Green Day song "The Time of Your Life," and it wasn't easy.
Her lilting voice trembled as she worked her way through the song. Stanza after stanza, she inhaled deeply and forged on, her visceral grief on public display.
Across Duke Chapel, people inhaled with her. You could feel it.
She could barely speak the last lines:
"It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right.
I hope you have the time of your life."
With that, she leaned into the microphone, and whispered: "I love you, Drew."