Jared grew up in Kauai in a Mormon family. Later he moved to the continental United States. Jared attended Brigham Young University in both Provo and Hawaii. He served an LDS mission in Hokkaido, Japan. At the time of his death, he was working for an engineering firm in Tacoma, Washington.

Jared committed suicide in Tacoma, Washington, on August 27, 1998. He was 29 years old. Jared's body was cremated and his ashes scattered in Hawaii.

His partner Brian wrote the following:

Jared lived a happy life. He was an optimist in every situation. He loved to play volleyball in the sand. He loved to watch the sun set into the ocean. Jared was stunning to look at--a giant of a man, physically and metaphorically. He always kept his body in great physical shape. He loved weight-lifting. Most of his college days were spent in the gym--right where he wanted to be.

He was an intelligent man. He earned a degree in engineering, though his passion was political science.

Jared led a happy but troubled life, due in large part to his own (and others') expectations of a person that he was not. Ultimately, he was not able to cope with that and felt he could not go on.

Many times when I think of and remember him, I remember the seemingly "little" things. He loved butterflies. He loved to listen to music. He enjoyed swimming. Since his death, I also think of this quote almost every time I think of Jared: "I wanted only to try to live in accord with the promptings which came from my true self. Why was that so very difficult?" --Herman Hesse.

I was fortunate to have known Jared. I am a different, and hopefully better, person because I knew him. I miss him.

Jared's favorite poem:

Jared and his partner first heard this poem in the movie Four Weddings and a Funeral. Jared left him a copy of this poem when he died with a note that stated, "I love you..." and he signed it with his given Hawaiian name.

Stop All the Clocks
By W. H. Auden

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with the juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let airoplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever; I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.