David Lee

David Lee came into the world after Chrismas in 1962. He was the fourth child of Max, a schoolteacher, and Lori, a stay-at-home-mom. The family was struggling to get by on Max's meager teacher's salary, and David's parents feared he would strain the family beyond the breaking point.

But there was no breaking point, and David quickly integrated into the family. He was a busy, inquisitive, rambunctious child who as a toddler spent plenty of time in that glorified child cage dubbed "playpen". Because when he was outside of the playpen, there seemed to be no limit to the trouble he could get into.

A station wagon became a requirement for the family of six, including a third rear-facing seat the children referred to as the "way back". It was in this family vehicle that the first major vacation trip took place, a camping adventure with the used station wagon pulling a small pop-up camper. David's assigned seat was that "way back" seat, and the other siblings spent most of the trip arguing and negotiating whose turn it was to ride with him back there.

Despite his active nature, David was a chubby child. Most of the family believed that was primarily due to his need to keep up with his big brother in all things, including the volume of food consumption. David became so focused on food equity, he began to be called the "food sheriff" by his siblings. He closely monitored how many treats were consumed by his siblings, and was the family's self-appointed arbiter of fair distribution of treats.

Not an especially good student, David had some difficulty focusing in the classroom, a frequent topic for discussion in parent-teacher conferences at school. But he was adventurous, and showed a strong desire to try just about every activity. By high school, David participated in every available sport, played trumpet in the band, sang bass in choir and show choir, was active in scouting, his church youth group and choir, worked with his father on summer construction projects, and flipped burgers at McDonald's.

There was nothing that could deter David or get him down. He did everything with enthusiasm and joy, almost as if he was in a hurry to have as many experiences in as possible. And this enthusiasm did seem to pay off, as David was part of a State Championship with his High School football team, won an individual championship in a state weighlifting competition, was chosen MVP for Field Events on his Track team, and was elected the national Moderator for the church's denominational youth organization. He grew to 6'4" and about 285lbs in football shape, and was physically the strongest person I knew. He was for some time called "Destructo" because he had a knack for accidentally breaking things. Like a large bolt he broke when tightening it with a wrench, helping his father on a bridge repair project.

David went on to the church-affiliated Ashland College, where his parents and sisters also attended (and all but Lori graduated). In college, he played football and was selected as the student host for a visit by then-president Ronald Reagan and the First Lady. While in college, he continued his involvement in as many activities as possible, and enjoyed the entire experience.

At college he met Tracy, and told others before he'd even secured the first date that he knew she was the girl for him. He succeeded in that endeavor, and he and Tracy married before graduation. He gave up football to do construction and other work to keep his new family afloat as the two of them finished their coursework.

After college graduation, he and his bride moved in with Max and Lori briefly while they each began their job searches. It wasn't long before he landed a job as a manufacturer's sales rep for a nearby recreational vehicle manufacturer. As the entry-level "kid", he was given the least productive territory for the company; the NorthEast US.

David worked hard, bringing his usual enthusiasm to his job, and was soon the top salesman in his division. He was his usual friendly, enthusiastic, and honest self, and his customers learned they could count on him to take care of their needs. Once his orders were accounting for over half of the plant's production, other salepeople began complaining of the unfairness that David, the junior salesman, was allowed to keep the best territory for the company; which was, ahem, the NorthEast US.

David and Tracy started a family with their first daughter, Kara, and built a new home not far from Max and Lori. David and Max built the home together, using plans David had taken and modified from some home plans he liked. He continued to find activities to enjoy, from staying active in the church to joining a local gun club to shoot clays and targets.

His planning, scheming, and ideas turned to business. He partnered with Max to purchase a motor home that would be rented just enough each year to pay for it so the entire family could enjoy using it for vacation and camping trips. A plan he spearheaded with Max and big brother to purchase the remaining acreage in their housing development and launch a homebuilding company ended when the seller rejected the offer. Another plan with big brother to open an RV dealership continued as an ongoing discussion, at least until that fateful October day.

David's personality was outgoing, friendly, and fun-loving. He loved to laugh and was a good storyteller. He was open and friendly with everyone, and was never seen to be rude or dismissive of anyone. He had an easygoing faith, which he could share with others without being preachy or judgemental. He loved children, and they loved him back. When young children were around, David joined in their play. And despite his hulking presence and reputation for breaking things, he was gentle with the children even though they loved being lifted, tossed, spun, and carried around by their giant friend. (When his sister became engaged and married to another "David", everyone began referring to David Lee as "Little Dave". Guess which David was physically smaller.)

In the days and weeks leading up to that Halloween in 1989, David was very busy taking care of personal matters. Virtually all of his family and friends living away from his hometown received telephone calls from David those two or three days before Halloween. He called not to deliver any special information, but just to say hello and catch up. His elder brother received a call as well, and briefly pondered after it ended how is was very different from the typical call from little brother. The conversation was missing the usual exhuberant litany of the latest of David's plans, schemes, and ideas. Instead, it was just a conversation about life in general, how anyone could die at any time, and how he had just finished tying up all of his loose ends. He said, "I can die tomorrow, and my family will be in great shape". Then the conversation sort of ran out of steam, and there was an unprecedented silent lull, as if David was pondering whether to say something else. But he didn't, and the call ended with a tentative agreement to talk again over the weekend.

He had just finished paying off all his outstanding debts, bought a new life insurance policy and put a cancellation letter in the mail for the old one, completed the finishing touches on his new home, and generally taken care of every detail. He was happy, proud, and relaxed.

David was 26 on the evening before Halloween, when he was on his way home from work to have dinner with his parents, wife, and daughter. It was Max's birthday celebration. As the 6:00 dinnertime passed, those awaiting him at his home began to be concerned. Yes, David was known to often show up late, but never this late.

David had been driving home for dinner, running a little late and perhaps in a bit of a hurry. As he approached the intersection on the country road only a couple of miles from home, he must not have seen the other car speeding toward him from the crossroad to the left. Possibly the trees, still hanging on to their colorful fall foliage, blocked his view of the oncoming danger.

The Mexican immigrant driving the other car, who had stopped at the bar after work at a local factory and had a few too many, was on his way home as well. He was in more than a hurry, traveling an estimated 80mph in the 50mph zone. The stop sign at the cross-road didn't give him a second's pause, and he impacted the driver's door of David's car as it crossed his path through the intersection.

The phone rang at David's house. The waiting family was told that David had been in an accident, and had been transported to the local hospital. The family arrived to find he was already gone. He had probably been killed instantly in the crash from massive head trauma.

The community came out in force both to pay respects to the family during funeral home visitation, and in a standing-room-only crowd at his weekday funeral in his home church. A sudden storm dropped sleet and rain during his graveside memorial, then cleared and the sun peeked through the clouds as the mourners walked to their cars. It seemed as though God himself was weeping, then comforting everyone left behind with a glimpse of the sun's rays. His employer, co-workers, and clients sent huge bouquets. People from all over sent heartfelt cards and letters. A scholarship fund was created in his name. And since that letter did not reach the life insurance company until after the accident, his family collected on that policy, in addition to the newly purchased policy and his employer's policy.

Most of his co-workers were not church-going sorts. But those who know say that a half-dozen of them not only became enthusiastic Christians, but went beyond to become pastors, missionaries, and serve in other major roles for their churches. All influenced significantly by their friend and co-worker, not through words so much as example.

A few months after the accident, David's son, David Lee, was born. Today, everyone who knew his father remarks on how closely young David Lee resembles his father at the same age.

My little brother has been gone many years now, but I still think of him often. It sounds crazy, and probably is, but sometimes when I'm driving somewhere in my car I'll feel like he's close by. I turn off the radio and have a conversation with him, just like we used to during his brief adult years. And I could almost swear that I hear him talking to me. Crazy or not, such conversations bring me peace.

I don't worry about him, because I'm sure he's quite well and was just recently reunited with his mother. But I do still miss his friendship, his enthusiasm for life, his positive attitude, and his constant ideas, plans and schemes. My life's goal is to try to be just a little more like him in being accepting of others despite their flaws, always finding the positives in difficult situations, and staying optimistic and enthusiastic in everything I do.