In memory of a Stanford friend whose life embodied the greatest love.

“There’s no greater love than to give your life for someone else.”

These words carry profound weight when we consider the life and tragic death of Amy Biehl, a young woman whose commitment to justice and human rights ultimately cost her everything, yet whose legacy continues to shine brightly decades later.

Amy was vibrant and full of life, the kind of person who could light up any room she entered. During our college years at Stanford, she was often one of my dance partners at the Saturday night Theta Delta Chi fraternity parties. Those were simpler times, filled with laughter, friendship, and the boundless optimism that comes with youth. Amy embodied all of that. Her warm, beautiful smile was infectious, and her genuine care for others was evident even then.

A Final Farewell

I last saw Amy at a Stanford football game tailgate, sometime around 1992. I hadn’t seen Amy since graduating in 1986, but reconnecting felt as natural as if no time had passed at all. I was a young agent, recently hired by ATF and primarily doing undercover work at the time. When Amy and I spoke that day, we caught up on the paths our lives had taken since Stanford.

We hugged, and she congratulated me on my appointment as a Special Agent with ATF. Upon learning about my undercover assignments, buying drugs and guns from criminal street gangs, working with firearms and narcotics traffickers. Amy told me to be careful. Her concern was genuine, as it always was.

Then she shared her own news, she would soon be traveling to South Africa on a Fulbright Scholarship, specifically to highlight and fight for women’s rights. Knowing the dangers that existed during those final, turbulent years of apartheid, I cautioned her in return: “You, please be careful.” I recognized the possible danger Amy could encounter, though neither of us could have imagined exactly what form that danger might take.

We gave each other a strong embrace and promised each other that we’d be careful and stay safe. Outside of a few brief encounters later at the tailgate and during the game, that was the last time I saw Amy’s beautiful face with her warm, friendly smile.

A Life of Service Cut Short

Amy went to South Africa not as a tourist or for personal gain, but to use her education and passion to make a difference. She was there to help, not hurt; to support, not destroy; to love, not hate. She stood up against everything wrong with racism and apartheid, dedicating herself to advancing women’s rights in a country torn apart by systemic oppression.

The tragic irony of Amy’s murder is that she was killed by people who didn’t know she was there to help them. Her death was senseless, a young woman whose heart was full of love and whose mission was justice, struck down by the very violence and hatred she had come to fight against.

A Legacy That Lives On

Learning of Amy’s murder was painful and heartbreaking. But in the years since, I’ve watched in admiration as her family transformed their grief into something beautiful and lasting. The Amy Biehl Foundation, created in her honor, continues the work she started and embodies all that she fought for and accomplished, or tried to accomplish in her short time in South Africa.

Perhaps even more remarkable is the journey of forgiveness and reconciliation her parents undertook, eventually working with some of the very communities where Amy was killed. Their response to tragedy exemplifies the kind of love Amy herself embodied, love that transcends anger, hatred, and even the deepest grief.

Carrying the Light Forward

As a retired Special Agent with ATF who spent decades fighting against violent crime, I understand something of the dangers that come with standing up to injustice. Amy’s courage in going to South Africa to fight apartheid and advance women’s rights, knowing the risks, speaks to the same commitment that drives those of us who choose careers protecting others, even when it means putting ourselves in harm’s way.

There’s something powerful about how both of our career paths, hers tragically cut short, mine spanning decades, were dedicated to standing up against injustice and protecting others. In my own work, I’ve carried forward the memory of friends like Amy, whose brief but brilliant life reminds us why the fight against violence and hatred matters.

Amy Biehl truly gave her life in service of love over hate, embodying the profound truth that there is no greater love than to give your life for others. I miss my friend and know without a doubt that Amy is smiling down brightly on her family, on the foundation that bears her name, and on all of us who knew her and continue to be inspired by her beautiful smile and generous heart.

Her legacy lives on not just in the important work of the Amy Biehl Foundation, but in every person who chooses love over hate, justice over indifference, and courage over comfort. Amy’s life, though far too brief, continues to light the way for others committed to making this world a better place.

*In memory of Amy Biehl (1967-1993) - Stanford graduate, Fulbright Scholar, advocate for human rights, and cherished friend whose light continues to shine.*