A few weeks before his death, Evan Greenleigh ran seven miles through Charleston, carrying flowers for the mother of a close friend at The Citadel.
It was her birthday, and although cadets were only permitted off campus under limited circumstances, Evan used his evening running time to deliver the flowers himself.
The story surfaced only after Greenleigh died in a boating accident April 25 near Charleston. The Bethesda native was 19.
Again and again in the weeks that followed, family members said they learned about acts of kindness Evan never mentioned while he was alive — reaching out to isolated classmates, encouraging struggling cadets and making sure people around him felt supported.
“He didn’t think it was a big deal,” his father, David Greenleigh, said. “That’s just who he was.”
Greenleigh grew up in a close-knit Jewish family that relatives said shaped his sense of loyalty, compassion and responsibility toward others. He attended preschool and religious school at Washington Hebrew Congregation and celebrated his bar mitzvah there. He also attended Camp Iroquois Springs, a culturally Jewish camp in the Catskills, which helped him become more confident and socially expressive.
Though not deeply religious, family members said Judaism became increasingly important to him after the Oct. 7 attacks in Israel. At The Citadel, where there were relatively few Jewish students, he joined the Jewish Student Association and had recently been selected to serve as its clerk for the following academic year.
“Being Jewish mattered deeply to him,” his father said.
His mother, Suzanne Greenleigh, described him as unusually steady and easygoing from an early age.
“He never wrestled around with other kids,” she recalled. “He was just very centered.”
At the same time, his sister, Lily Greenleigh, said her brother was playful and funny at home, where the two siblings invented games, built forts and spent much of their childhood together.
“Some of my favorite memories growing up absolutely involve Evan,” she said. “He was calm, but he was also playful and silly.”
Tennis became central to his life when he was very young. He later trained at Woodmont Country Club, competed for Bullis School and continued tournament training at the Montgomery TennisPlex. He represented the United States on the U.S. Maccabi tennis team in Buenos Aires and competed in Tennis Europe tournaments in Barcelona, Prague and Amsterdam.
Recruited to play tennis on a small athletic scholarship, Greenleigh was drawn to The Citadel’s structure, discipline, challenge and a well-known tennis coach, his family said.
Despite having no family military background, relatives said Greenleigh developed a strong sense of patriotism from a young age and felt drawn to military service. His father said time spent outside suburban Bethesda, including visits to a sportsmen’s club in West Virginia, exposed him to people and experiences far outside his own world.
“He felt like going to The Citadel and eventually serving in the Navy was what he was meant to do,” David Greenleigh said.
“He loved what his future was going to look like,” David Greenleigh said. “The Citadel was where he should have been.”
At school, he excelled academically and physically during his demanding freshman “knob” year. A mechanical engineering major, he earned recognition on the Trustees List, one of the school’s top academic honors. He hoped eventually to enter the Navy’s nuclear propulsion officer candidate program.
A gifted athlete, Greenleigh was especially proud to play for longtime Citadel tennis coach Chuck Kriese, a highly respected figure in collegiate tennis.
“He couldn’t take off his Citadel tennis gear,” his father said. “He was so honored to play for Coach Kriese.”
But in conversations after his death, family members said what stood out most were not his achievements, but the quieter stories classmates and friends shared with them.
One cadet told the family that when he struggled emotionally and considered leaving school, Greenleigh arranged counseling appointments for him and organized classmates to help him keep up with the school’s rigorous physical and military demands.
Another former student recalled how Greenleigh checked on him daily after a personal crisis and encouraged him not to give up.
“He was in my room every day telling me, ‘You’ve got this,’” the cadet later told David Greenleigh.
Family members said Greenleigh often gravitated toward people who felt isolated or overlooked.
“He found kids who maybe didn’t fit in socially,” his father said. “He made space for them.”
That instinct extended beyond school. Suzanne Greenleigh recalled learning months after a high school homecoming dance that her son had quietly given his jacket to a girl whose dress had ripped so she would feel comfortable the rest of the evening.
“Those were the kinds of things he noticed,” she said.
He also remained deeply connected to his family. Weekends were often devoted to what relatives jokingly called “Greenleigh Family Fun Day” — trips to museums, hikes, dinners and time with grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles. Even after leaving for college, he regularly called home simply to talk.
About 45 minutes before the boating accident, he FaceTimed his parents from Charleston Harbor.
Suzanne Greenleigh told her son to be careful and that she loved him.
“I love you, Suz,” he replied.
Investigators later determined that the boat struck an unlit dock during low tide late at night. The family said no alcohol was involved and no one else was seriously injured. They have since urged local officials to examine lighting and safety conditions around docks in the area.
“We’re really trying to save another family from going through this devastating heartbreak,” Suzanne Greenleigh said.
More than 1,400 people gathered for his funeral. Family members said they continue to hear from friends, classmates and coaches about the impact Greenleigh had on people around him.
At his funeral, David Greenleigh spoke about what he believed his son would want others to remember.
“Look around,” he said. “There’s always someone struggling. Reach out your hand, help them. You can have a profound impact on their life — and don’t do it for yourself. You do it for them.”
“I think there’s just so much to say about Evan,” Lily Greenleigh said. “What can’t really be captured is how he made you feel when you were next to him.”
Ellen Braunstein is a freelance obituary writer. She welcomes suggestions for individuals who had meaningful ties to the greater Washington Jewish community. Email [email protected].
