Edgar del Pilar was an only child, but he knew a lot about being a brother.

The junior in computer science who died in an accidental fire Monday left behind many brothers and sisters, people he had attracted with his generous heart and outgoing nature. Eighty people gathered Wednesday night in the Harold Pride Lounge of the Memorial Union to remember him. They had come together the night after the fire, but this night, Edgar’s uncle, Cesar, had flown in from Puerto Rico. He came to represent Edgar’s family and also to hear stories from Edgar’s friends at Iowa State.

“He was like a brother to me,” was how many of the testimonials about Edgar started that night. He gave bear hugs that lifted strangers off the ground. He offered to sleep in his desk chair so that visitors he’d met only hours before could have a bed for the night. One of his catch phrases was, “I’m in,” whenever anyone asked him for help or to go out.

“Edgar was a lot of things to a lot of people,” Jason Smolka, senior in electrical engineering, said at Edgar’s memorial. “He also realized he wasn’t the best at anything … He realized he wasn’t the best dancer, but he would show up at all our dances anyway.

“He probably wasn’t my best friend. But he never stopped trying to be.” Smolka broke into a sob. “He was always there when I needed him.”

He and Edgar had known each other since their freshman year. Last summer, Smolka convinced Edgar to move into an open spot in his duplex. Edgar had no problem making himself at home. When his housemates’ mothers came to visit, he hugged them as if they were his own. His dream to be a pilot often meant his room was blaring the “Top Gun” soundtrack for everyone else to hear.

“He was the calming force in my life,” Smolka said. When he was up past 3 a.m. doing homework, Edgar would invite himself in to cheer him up. “He just kind of knew that even though I was having a bad day and I didn’t want anyone to talk to, I still wanted someone to be around me.”

He called 911

E-mails and calls of support came from all over the country, many from people who only knew of Edgar’s reputation. Money and supplies were dropped off at the Jischke Honors Building for Roy Salcedo, program assistant for the ISU Honors program and another of Edgar’s housemates. Everything Salcedo wore on Wednesday — even his socks and underwear — was given to him. As simple a thing as looking for belts reminded him of Edgar, who had asked to borrow a hole-punch last week; he had lost enough weight that his belts needed new holes.

But the most painful reminder for the survivors was going back to the destroyed duplex earlier Wednesday to pick up what was left of their lives.

“It really hit me. That was our home. That was our family,” Salcedo said. The night of the fire has been replaying itself over and over in his mind. “I just want to wake up from this bad dream.”

On that Monday night, Salcedo remembers waking up to Smolka yelling about a fire. He opened his door, then quickly shut it when thick smoke poured in. He grabbed the phone to call 911. Edgar yelled from his room — which was adjacent to Salcedo’s — that he had already called. Salcedo called anyway and briefly talked to the dispatcher; she told them to get out, and then the line went dead.

Alicia Iniguez, senior in biological and pre-medical illustration, who had stayed overnight, tried to exit toward the living room. The smoke was so thick she couldn’t see her own hands, and her lungs felt like they were being squeezed, she said. A surge of heat singed her face and forced her back to Salcedo’s room. They realized the only way out was through their second-story window.

Salcedo was able to step down onto the air conditioner from the window and help Iniguez down. He looked at Edgar’s window to see if it was open but saw only blackness. They yelled frantically to Edgar to escape through his window. They heard him yell back, “Guys … I can’t get out.”

Smolka and Salcedo threw bricks to break Edgar’s window. Salcedo climbed up a ladder and reached through the broken window but couldn’t see or feel anything. He fought the intense urge to go into the room.

Shortly after, a police officer arrived and advised them to get back from the house while the firefighters did their job. Salcedo had the impression the officer knew it was too late for Edgar.

“I cried nonstop from arriving at the hospital until the ceremony that evening,” said Iniguez, who was friends with Edgar since he was a freshman. “It’s very hurtful. We’re still questioning whether it happened and if he’s really gone.”

Later, Salcedo called del Pilar’s family in Arecibo, Puerto Rico. He said he felt guilty that he didn’t do enough to save Edgar that night. Edgar Sr., though, would hear nothing of it.

“You have no reason to feel guilty,” he told Salcedo. “It was just time for God to take him.” He was comforted to hear from Salcedo that Edgar had called 911 that night — it made sense that one of his son’s final acts would be to help his friends out.

Surrounded by family

The del Pilars had first heard about their son late Monday. Two of their close friends were waiting for them as they pulled into their home after work.

“We saw their faces; we knew something had happened,” Edgar Sr. said. The del Pilar house was full of relatives and friends to comfort them, but it was hardest when the two parents were alone and awake late at night.

“When my wife got out of control, I comforted her. When I went out of control, she comforted me,” Edgar Sr. said.

It helped that the del Pilars had suffered grief just a week before when Edgar’s grandmother passed away. They were a little more prepared for tragedy.

But what helped most was the outpouring of e-mails and calls they received from the States. In the past few days, they learned more about their son, whom they only saw during semester breaks. They learned he was an avid volunteer, for example, and worked with kids all day during the FIRST LEGO League competition.

“We were overwhelmed with what had happened and the service that he provided,” Edgar Sr. said. “We did not know that he had such an effect on the local people.”

To let Edgar leave Puerto Rico was a hard decision. His mother Grycel sometimes would wake up in a fit of nervousness that something might happen to him. Edgar Sr. was more willing — he had left Puerto Rico to go to college in California. They all knew Edgar’s best chance to make a living was to go to Iowa State.

And they knew no matter how far he was from Puerto Rico, he would always be surrounded by a family.

“He was very happy to be [in Ames],” Edgar Sr. said. “My wife and myself are so grateful to the town of Ames, to all of his peers, and especially to those that he treated as his brothers and sisters.”

Donations for the del Pilar family can be made to Karen Webb (294-1928)at the Student Services Office.