In the fall of 1976, a friend called to tell me that Idi Amin's people had killed our former college classmate James Sabune. I stood there in my kitchen and stared at the phone, unable to move.

James Karera Sabune was brilliant, humble, and kind. As a sophomore at Rutgers in Camden, I had worked at the circulation desk with James' roommate, Jean-Claude, and the three of us had become friends. The international students and the work-study students usually didn't have cars or much money. We took the bus to Philly and, over coffee at the Horn & Hardart, talked about the world.

When James studied or wrote letters to his relatives here and in Uganda, he put on his glasses and got quiet. But he also loved to joke and debate which girls on campus were the prettiest.

After I graduated, in 1972, James and I lost touch, although I heard he went to law school. Many years passed.

One day last February, I got home from teaching English as a second language to elementary school students in Camden. I leafed through the new issue of O, The Oprah Magazine, and a familiar face jumped out - my friend James?

No, it was his brother. The Rev. Canon A.N. Petero Sabune is the Protestant chaplain at Sing Sing Correctional Facility in New York. The accompanying article quoted him talking about James, his brother, his hero.

I was suddenly determined to find the Sabune family. I wanted a chance to tell them how sorry I was that James died.

James once brought his siblings into the library to meet his friends, but their faces and names were a blur. I Googled his brother's name and found a video on YouTube. He looked liked James, talked like James, laughed like James.

I found Petero's e-mail address and wrote to him. He wrote back and told me that the family wanted to hold a memorial on James' upcoming 65th birthday. I replied, "Invite me, please."

Petero later explained to me that an association of Ugandan students elected James its president in 1975. James took a leave from law school and, with other student leaders, demonstrated against Idi Amin at the United Nations.

In 1976, James took the great risk of accepting Amin's invitation to return to Uganda and observe his "peaceful regime." He wanted to talk to Amin and persuade him to make Uganda truly peaceful.

But the government took James and others in for questioning. The student leaders disappeared - forever. The family had hoped James might have escaped or gone into hiding. But they never even found his body.

I'm helping the Sabune family hold their celebration and remembrance of James' life. His brother says that Rutgers Law School is the best possible location. It is where James developed his leadership skills - skills that, ultimately and sadly, led to his death.