David has a very special place in my heart as a colleague, friend, and confidant. I would like to share a few thoughts and memories that are quintessentially David.

The first time I met David was during my interview at MSU in 1997. He picked me up in his station wagon–a 1980s behemoth. It was stuffed with books and papers. As we drove, he turned to me and earnestly (and dryly) explained why my Pulitzer-prize winning dissertation advisor was wrong about Southern yeoman. He was utterly sincere, and no less so in his pleasure at hearing my retort. During the 18 years that I have known David, this was always his distinguishing feature: he loved history, new perspectives, and a good historical debate.

I learned many things from David as I moved forward in the department and the profession. Perhaps most important, he was committed to the Department and to MSU. One of our colleagues once described him as “The Chancellor” of the Department, an apt description of the role he relished. He gained his authority by being an assiduous student of the University’s culture, by looking at the big picture, by mastering the art of getting things done, by being compassionate at core, and most significantly by listening. His ability to listen to others gave him his greatest strength. He knew what people needed, what they wanted, and what they would compromise on because he took the time to hear what they had to say.

This was not perceptiveness, it was science. I tried over the last couple of weeks to count the number of times in 18 years when I was right and he was wrong when we disagreed. I came up with 2 1/2. [And he would not concede those if he were here to contest it!]

When I became Associate Dean in the College of Social Science, I took with me David’s example of how to approach one’s duties. I made it a point to listen, not take things personally, and serve the College and University’s larger purposes at all times. And I met with David whenever I felt the need to keep my compass. He was always there to listen and advise.

From our first, rather wry meeting to my last visit with David in Ann Arbor our friendship became very strong. He rallied when my tenure case seemed in jeopardy. I owe him always for this. He happily lifted my baby daughter over his head and planted a loud raspberry on her tummy when she was born. He sat with my family in Cooperstown by Lake Otsego enthusiastically munching Brooks BBQ and upbraiding me for being sarcastic toward my mother. He dropped everything and took my wife Sarah and I to Dinosaur Barbeque in Buffalo when we were in town. He watched with smirking bemusement as my children, Ella and Lincoln, scampered, scuttered, and climbed all over Ed Jocques’ boat this August.

He was very much like an older brother to me.

David was all this and much more to his family and so many colleagues and friends over the years that I feel blessed to have had any time with him at all. His ability to touch lives–students, colleagues, family–seemed inexhaustible. He is missed.

Au revoir, mon frere.