For most, the end of March means a post-spring break return to the second semester grind and a ferociously busted bracket, only counterbalanced by the imminent spring weather perpetually just around the corner.

For my fellow Tau Kappa Epsilon family and me, it means the now two-year anniversary of the brutal assault on one of our own brothers.

Last year, TKE held our first ever Red Carnation Ball to raise money for the Prince George's County Hospital Trauma Ward that saved John “Jack" Liam Godfrey's life. A doctor gave him 10 percent odds to live through the night of the attack. Over one year later, the day before our second annual Red Carnation Ball, Jack passed away after 19 months nearly complication-free.

I wrote about our connection to Jack through fraternity softball, his true passion, this winter after his death. A baseball fanatic in his own right, he would have appreciated — and been the first to offer up — the appropriate witty analogy.

Jack got beaned.

It was a punch as uncalled for and dangerous as an errant fastball careening toward an unsuspecting batter's head.

The beauty of baseball is there is always tomorrow. There is always another at-bat, and another pitch. The game is a George R.R. Martin-esque length dialogue of hundreds of thousands of individual events, one after another. Jack valued this unique beauty, and faced life in the same fashion; he made sure he positively impacted the events in the lives of those around him as if he knew his life would be cut a few innings short.

Either the pitcher intended to hit you, or he lost control of a pitch. The result is the same. One base. Jack took the pitch, rubbed some proverbial dirt on it, and trotted to first base. Upon waking up the morning after the attack and being told he hit his head, he replied as only he could, “Well that makes sense because I got a big f***ing headache."

This pitcher meant to hit Jack. That is part of the game, as it is a part of life. That intention however lasts no longer than the at-bat. The game — and life — continue to move forward. Another batter took the plate, and Jack took his lead off of first.

A portion of his skull was placed in his abdomen to regenerate and allow his brain swelling to diminish. He stormed back to campus for his junior year months after suffering severe brain trauma in the incident. He excelled, both in the classroom and out, and we believed we had our brother back. Jack, now in scoring position, took his lead from second base, ready to jump for home at the crack of the bat.

In November, we tragically lost our brother. Rounding third and heading for graduation, the world lay ahead of Jack. He never reached home plate, but he was not thrown out. He ascended to join the angels in the outfield.

On Friday, we honored his life with our second annual Red Carnation Ball. Jack's parents, TKE families and campus friends gathered at the Samuel IV Riggs Alumni Center to raise money in his memory through silent and live auctions, as well as a donation session.

When the final silent auction winner was revealed — a recent alumus snagged six bottles of lime-cucumber flavored Gatorade and three fifths of Jameson Irish Whiskey, Jack's respective drinks of choice — $20,000 was raised for the John Liam Godfrey Memorial Scholarship and the Capability Ranch, an activity center for special needs youth and young adults that Jack's mother runs in Ramona, California. Jack's younger brother Owen has Autism.

Pictured above, 11 of Jack's closest friends and fellow seniors raise their hands during the donation session to pledge $100 each to the Jack Godfrey Memorial Scholarship Fund.

Sophomore Alex Muscanell orchestrated a flawless event.

“Throughout the process I got to understand [Jack] better and the impact he left behind," he said. “I got the opportunity to learn about this amazing man's story and understand why so many people respected him; the turnout on Friday made me truly realize what he left here with us."

Nationally renowned auctioneer Ben Farrell, a good friend of Nicola Bridges and John Godfrey, Jack's parents, during their marriage and after, emceed the event. His enticingly calm, yet inviting demeanor set a fitting tone for the evening's affairs. Farrell graciously donated his time and services to voice the event.

He was smooth-talking, honest, and his words swirled around the standing-room only crowd as if Jack's voice were reverberating through the microphone.

During the ceremony, a close friend read one of Jack's writings from after his accident. Remarking on his recovery, he wrote, “It is incredible how much potential can be realized when you are in a situation where your back is against the wall."

The Farrells, Ben and Heidy, share a bond with Bridges and Godfrey, much deeper than their attendance after both of the Godfrey children's births. The youngest of their two sons, Adam, also has autism. Ben's skill as an auctioneer blossomed while raising money for expensive therapy for his son through a yard sale. As Jack would put it, his true potential was realized while helping battling his son's illness as a family — a true back against the wall experience. He and his wife now own Custom Benefit Auctions.

Spring also signals the return of fraternity softball. After a rainout on Friday, opening day against Tau Epsilon Phi was pushed to the afternoon following the event. Jack's little pitched, filling in the void left on the mound as Jack watched his boys pull out a 13-10 victory from above. As was the case when Jack passed, our opponent reached out numerous times to myself and others asking about the event and other ways to help.

Friday marked exactly two years to the day that Jack was attacked. The wounds are still fresh. To everyone who attended, our thanks continue to escape the capacity of words. To those who donated, you have made a everlasting difference in our lives by allowing Jack's memory to be carried out through his brothers in TKE, his friends in the community, and the Jack Godfrey Memorial Scholarship Fund that will provide financial assistance to students who share Jack's love for creative writing.

We still miss our friend, and we still miss our brother. Rest easy, buddy.

If you are interested in making a donation in Jack's honor, please consider his scholarship fund through the University of Maryland or the Capability Ranch.