Live Like Braun - #LLB
A Young Man Who Made Every Moment A Memory. And Every Room His Own.
There are people who barrel into your life with such joy, force, and presence that you can’t quite remember what life was like before they arrived. They show up, change the temperature of every room they walk into, and somehow, without ever asking, make themselves essential.
For me, Braun Levi was exactly that.
He didn’t tiptoe into my world, he kicked the door open. Literally. “Where’s ELO?” became a signature entrance, usually shouted with full volume at some unpredictable hour. It was never annoying. It was Braun.
Meeting the Levis
I first connected with Braun and his amazing family over four years ago, thanks to my partner Mia. My first real encounter with his family was at the Bel Air Bay Club. It was intense—Dan, Braun’s dad, is a force. He came in hot, firing questions at me like I’d just been released from prison: What are your intentions with Mia? What are you doing with your life? Are you nice to her? It was a bit much at first. I was like “WHO THE F is this Jabroni?”
Until I realized, through that conversation, that all of this was rooted in love. It was protection. Mia mattered to them, and quickly so did I.
Jenn, Braun’s mom, became a rock for Mia during her journey through widowhood. The kids all grew up together, in the same schools, on the same street, in the same circles. Soon enough, their families became closely intertwined. I began to understand just how tight this tribe was.
Shortly after that exchange and passing a few tests, I got pulled into the orbit of the Levis and the Palisades crew. Dan invited me in, we played paddle with the Hendersons, the Kleins, the Meiers, the Woods, the Garretts, all names I’m still trying to keep straight, plus many more. It was nothing but fun and love at a time when I also needed it on my personal front.
And then there was Braun and Adelle.
All I heard was Braun this, Adelle that, always about these two kids, and while I never got that close to Adelle (I'm closer now), I experienced Braun: All gas, full throttle, all in, Braun over the past four years.
I experienced Braun: All gas, full throttle, all in, Braun over the past four years.
The Braunacles
Jenn’s Sunday morning texts to the HPG (House Party Girls) group thread that was formed for these women through COVID were legendary. “Guys. Jesus. Braun last night…” became a recurring headline, always followed by a tale that made them laugh, shake their heads, or both. I could see Mia reading the text thread, and I would ask, Oh, what? (Men are not allowed on HPG.)
When she stared, “It’s Jenn and last night Braun…..” I dropped what I was doing and was wrapt with attention. At the time, I barely knew him, but I kept saying the same thing: I love this kid.
Jenn Levi coined the phrase “The Braunacles.” They are all true. If you don’t know him or them, you’d never believe these tales. But they are all true. Waiting for more of the tales and stories was, on many days, the highlight of our conversations.
There are countless stories, all of which, as time went on, became more and more amazing. Dr. Dan shared a few at his service on Saturday. Those are all theirs to share, but if there weren’t a video for some of them, you wouldn't believe it.
That love only grew.
The Surprise Neighbor
One Saturday morning after I moved into my new Manhattan Beach house, I opened my door and found Braun and Jen standing on the sidewalk outside my gate.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, genuinely confused.
It turns out that Braun’s double partner, Nick, lives across the street. Jen asked if I knew the Rogers.
“Nope,” I said.
I was the classic workaholic—not exactly making time to meet the neighbors. I didn’t walk down and introduce myself, nor did I get a welcome cookie basket when I moved in. (A move I have since changed.)
But Braun insisted: “You gotta meet TR. He’s Nick's dad, and he’s a legend. His mom, Nat, too. Let’s go!” Because of Braun, this was the start of something special and a magical friendship.
Next, I found myself at a tennis tournament with Dan, Jen, and the whole crew, watching TR try to sneak in canned CLs while Nick told him to shut up between points. Natalie rolled her eyes. Jen and Dan laughed. “We’ve seen this for years,” they said. What won’t get old is hearing some off-the-cuff comment from TR toward Braun and Nick, after missing a point in doubles and hearing them both just saying “TR shut up, you suck.” It was amazing.
I grew very close, and still am, with the Rogers, TR, Trey, Nick, Jack, Nat, and the three dogs. They have been a part of my extended family. When Nick is home from Penn, he might be at my house more than at home, historically waiting or being with Braun, raiding my fridge.
But this is what Braun did; he connected everyone at all times everywhere and was the center of that world. A spark plug of light and connection. Over the past week I have heard countless stories that will go into lore about him doing just this, and this story is mine, one of thousands.
Braun Being Braun
More than a few times, I woke up to find Braun on the couch in the living room or the outdoor couch on the patio. Sometimes I'm the one on the couch, on a summer day, taking a nap, and the door is kicked in. And without fail, it was Braun, at the top of his voice: “Where’s ELO?!”
He’d stop by for hats, food, surfboards, chairs, towels, whatever he needed. He always had a trail of friends behind him. One summer, he stormed in with five kids, sunburned and covered in red zinc oxide. “ELO!” he shouted. I was half-asleep, but I sat up and welcomed the chaos. Sloan, one of his great girlfriends, was in tow; she apologized profusely, to which I said, “Oh, this is now normal here.”
They were starving, so we fed them. Forty minutes later, they left, the floors covered in sand, plates, and sunscreen; shit was everywhere.
We never cared. That was Braun. I not only loved it; I looked forward to it.
What I’d give to have those 40 minutes back every weekend.
The Fires
On January 7th, 2025, everything changed, not because it was my birthday and I was feeling the effects of turning 54, but because that was when the Palisades fires happened.
The fires ripped through Braun’s neighborhood and consumed the Levi home. Within 1,000 seconds, as I have pointed out, a lifetime of memories for this family and 6,000+ others were gone.
Like so many others, they came to the South Bay. My partner's house also burned to the ground. Their family's lifetime memories, like everyone's, are wiped out. Our Manhattan Beach house became a transition house full of love, warmth, and, yes, laughter. Even in tragedy, the Levis brought light.
The South Bay community showed up in extraordinary ways. They always do.
And Braun?
He never missed a beat. He embraced the change, pulled people closer, kept training, kept living. He was now here, fully and unapologetically Braun. It was more on than ever before. Before his passing, he had already taken over the 1st street volleyball court. It was called Braun's court.
He never missed a beat. He embraced the change, pulled people closer, kept training, kept living.
Now it’s the home to his tribute, where it’s renamed LLB, and where one of the largest paddleouts I have ever been a part of happened.
The Stellar Student
What could be lost in these social posts and stories about Braun is who he was as a student, leader, and community force. Yes, he lives wide open, but he also did that by earning a 4.4 GPA at Loyola. He was a stellar leader in his class, the first-ever sophomore captain of his tennis team, and one of the most decorated student-athletes to come from Loyola. Now that’s saying something.
He worked as hard as he played. I was constantly in total amazement at how he maintained his grades and sports excellence and lived life the way he did. Seeing the impact on so many, amazement has given way to one of the many aspects of his legacy.
There were many reminders of this across the week, but one of the things that stood out the most was when the University of Virginia, a school he had only just gotten into, held a tribute for an incoming freshman that those players had only heard of. Now that is impact.
A Final Braunacle
The last time I saw Braun, he came through the door hobbling. “Jesus, Braun—what now?”
“Can I use the Hyperice boots?” he asked.
“Why?”
“I just ran the LA Marathon," he smirked.
In a bit of surprise, but kind of not, “What? I didn’t know you were training.”
“I wasn’t,” he said, grinning. "I just woke up and ran it.”
“You just raw-dogged a marathon?!”
That smile. That chuckle. “Yeah, not my best idea. But I did it.”
We sat on the couch, talked shit, laughed, and plotted the next thing. He promised to help improve my UTR. He really thought my tennis game could get better. (I know he was just being Braun and would do anything to make people happy.) When we chatted about it, he’d lower his voice, give me a half wink, put his hand on my shoulder…… almost whispering with confidence…. “I got you, ELO.”
I still hear that. I got you, ELO.
And I believe him.
Legacy
I’ve lived 54 years. I’ve lost friends and family. But the idea of legacy—at 19? That’s rare. And yet, here we are.
Thousands gathered at a vigil just hours after he passed. Thousands more came to a paddle-out. Loyola’s service overflowed. The press ran stories. And still, everyone felt it wasn’t enough to capture who he was.
My story isn’t any more or less special than anyone else’s who met Braun or knows the Levi family. Everyone who crossed his path has a story. That’s the kind of magic he carried. That’s how I hope he’s eternally remembered.
The Last Exchange
I won’t share our final text—Braun asked me to keep it private. But I’ll tell you this: it was classic Braun. It was the beginning of another epic story, another laugh, another chapter in the ever-growing book of Braunacles. Maybe one day, with the consent of another one of Braun's friends who knows what it’s about (yes, you know who I’m talking about!), I’ll share. Until then, it stays with me.
Live Like Braun
All of us have a choice as to how to live; maybe this tragedy could turn you, your thinking and life into something different. Live Like Braun, or LLB as you see on social media, isn’t just a phrase. It’s a philosophy. Live like time doesn’t own you. Live like joy is the default setting. Live like love is abundant. Live like the door is always open. Live like your legacy starts now.
That was Braun.
That is Braun.
I love you, Braun.
Thank you for sharing your beautiful and moving tribute to Braun and the Levi family.
The impact he had on everyone he met would seem impossible to believe if stories like these weren’t being told from every imaginable angle right now.
His legacy will live on through each and every one of us who was blessed enough to have been graced by his presence… and mostly through Dan, Jenn and Adelle whose strength, courage and love are seemingly boundless.
Beautiful Erik...