In Memory of David Thornton

Whenever I read articles about David, about his birthday celebration and about how he died that night, I never feel a connection between him and the words I am reading. I find no trace of him, only a description of the last night of his life. It occurred to me that I was feeling this way because I did not want to accept that he was gone, that I had lost my boyfriend, that I would never see him again. I know it is more than that, though. He is not there in those articles, there is no sense of who Dave was or how much we've lost. So, I wanted to write something for him, for myself and for those who knew and loved Dave because there is much more to be said about him than a description of the night he died.

I first met Dave the beginning of fall quarter at a mixer sponsored by the ski team. At first I thought we had little in common, but I remember feeling comfortable around him from the moment we started talking. Dave wasn't my year in school, he was in a fraternity, and he grew up in Fresno where he was able to go fishing and ride dirt bikes. I was born and raised in San Francisco, and he was surprised I had never been to places like Yosemite--said that I should go sometime soon. Dave's sister had just started school at Berkeley; we talked about her and what it was like to grow up in Fresno, about the geology minor he was thinking about doing and how he had dressed up like the devil for Halloween. We talked about all kinds of things for a couple of hours. Befriending people came naturally to Dave, who opened up to strangers so quickly and easily. Dave was genuine. He was always in good spirits, always smiling.

Dave's house was on the edge of campus and friends would often stop by after classes to say hello and to relax and visit. "Hey man, why don't you cruise by?" was Dave's usual response whenever a friend called him. Life with Dave was always entertaining. He would often say something unexpected to try to get you to smile or laugh. People were drawn to him because they felt at ease in his company. I went down to Fresno and stayed with Dave and his family over winter break. I felt he really wanted me to meet his family, and once I did, I understood exactly why. He had such a wonderful, strong relationship with his sister and his mom and dad. I think this carried over into his other relationships--was the reason he had such a strong bond with friends, too.

Dave was a very motivated individual and always did well in school. He was in his third year majoring in biology and had talked about pursuing law school someday. Dave was adventuresome, too, always ready to experience something new and different. He tried to get me to go skiing with him almost every weekend in the winter, and he headed up to the mountains to ski with friends despite a nagging back injury. He was really looking forward to the spring when he would be able to hike and camp in the mountains. One of Dave's friends said at the memorial that Dave lived more in his 21 years than many people live in a lifetime. In many ways I know this is true. Dave loved life, he lived life fully, and he connected with so many people. In his relationships he showed great maturity, he was honest and accepting, and made it evident to those he loved that he cared deeply for them.

When I walk around campus, I am reminded of the times I spent with Dave. Sometimes I forget and look for him among the hundreds of faces I see every day. The wound feels even more raw when I think about how senseless his death was--how frightening. Dave could have been a 21-year-old that you know--a friend, a brother, a son--who made a mistake, took a great risk and felt invincible like so many young people do. So much is lost because Dave is gone, and I miss him every day. I feel his presence all the time. His love for life, his willingness to experience new things, his easy way with people, the affection he had for those he loved--I will carry these things with me always.