About 400 students turned out for a vigil on Sunday night for Ohio State student Kosta Karageorge, whose body was found Sunday.

COLUMBUS, Ohio -- One by one they strode out of the dark to stand at the feet of William Oxley Thompson. A few fought tears. More couldn't hide smiles. They came to talk about Kosta Karageorge.

And it quickly became clear. This is a guy that you tell stories about.

Karageorge, 22, was found dead Sunday, the initial evaluation from police that the 285-pound Ohio State wrestler and walkon football player died of a self-inflicted gunshot wound. His body was found Sunday afternoon in a dumpster in an alley a block from his home off the south edge of Ohio State's campus, more than four days after his roommates last saw him go for a walk early Wednesday morning.

Less than three hours after police announced his death, 400 students gathered for a vigil on The Oval, at the base of the bronze statue of Ohio State's former president. For 30 minutes, one death brought stories of a man described in larger than life terms.

Ohio State football player Kosta Karageorge was found dead on Sunday afternoon, four days after he was last seen. Students held a vigil for him Sunday night.

One wrestling teammate quoted the movie Lone Survivor to describe the Karageorge approach to life: "Anything in life worth doing is worth overdoing. Moderation is for cowards."

Friends from high school, those who just met him in class, his wrestling teammates, about 10 students stepped to the base of the statue and told story after story that unveiled that philosophy.

He was the guy you called when your car broke down, the guy you called when your friend passed out in a restaurant and needed to be carried home. On the group runs to Chipotle, he volunteered to ride in the bed of the pickup in the cold so everyone else could fit in the cab.

Karageorge had a 55-inch TV in his living room. He wanted more. He bought another and put it on the opposite wall. His friend begged him not to try three. In the same living room, what began as a small fishbowl gradually become a home-rigged massive salt water fish tank.

To his wrestling teammates, he was two things above all else: passionate and loyal.

He met one friend in high school when, wearing a back brace, she was bumped and dropped her books. Struggling to gather them, this boy emerged, scooped them up and said, "Here you go. Hi, I'm Kosta."

In a 20-person class, his absence would be noticed, the teacher asking where he was and missing his jokes. In a group setting, he wasn't one to hold his tongue. It's a message a friend will carry with him - in a world where too many people are afraid to go against the grain, Kosta always said what he thought.

He organized a co-ed summer kickball league and paid the team entry fee. Finding the team short one girl, he found a guy teammate and bought him a wig and a dress.

Since his disappearance, Karageorge has been characterized primarily as a football player, his status as a member of Ohio State's most famous group garnering extra attention for his disappearance. Sunday night, which ended with a haunting version of the alma mater from members of the Ohio State Marching Band, wasn't because Karageorge played football.

It arose because Karageorge was a member of the Ohio State community. And that community will miss him.