Wednesday, June 5, 2019
This man was a hero of mine.
Long before I met David, I had clipped and saved a memory he shared in an e-mail to a mutual friend--a memory dating back to the late 1960's/early 1970's.
It recalled, in a beautiful wry, self-deprecating tone, how several shy Wyoming boys would wait--on bikes or bare feet--at the end of our street (Pine Street), just to catch a glimpse of my pretty older sisters.
David was one of those boys.
It endeared me to him, this well-written admission, because it so accurately depicted the innocence of youth back then, and how, despite so curious, those boys remained gentlemen enough to be "too shy" to speak directly to a pretty girl.
It spoke of different times, times we so miss for the simple respect we had for one another.
So, I felt instant respect for the man who penned those sensitive and endearing words.
When David and I actually first met, it was via Facebook. Of course, I immediately told him that I'd clipped and posted his memories of my sisters on my office wall.
And that it had remained there for years-- reminding me to smile, some days.
He laughed about that; he remembered the memories and loved being reminded.
We got to know each other better via several late-night conversations, mostly about such creative endeavors as songwriting and memoir writing, via Facebook Messenger. But sometimes, David would share other memories of his own life--a very interesting life!
I'd say we became pretty good friends, really, despite the miles and age-difference between us; a friendship oddly built on creative appreciation and a sort of old-school support for another kindred spirit.
But it was Dave's constant and unwavering commitment to connecting people--some estranged for years--or reminding people of some wonderful life moments--memories, photographs, stories--that for me, made him so heroic.
He did that for us.
I think he supported me in everything I've ever written and shared via social media.
And I did the same for him.
Meeting Dave in person, finally, in about 2013, was like getting reacquainted with an old, beloved friend.
Actually, he already felt like family.
I will miss his spirit.
I hope he knew how much I and so many others valued him. Loved him.
This world has lost a truly conscientious and artful soul. Maybe not the last truly good guy, but surely, one of the very best of them.