David L. Ellingworth (1961-2014)

My favorite Nephew and one of my best friends died last week. He was only 53 years old.

It might seem strange to the casual observer for me to call David a best friend because we saw so little of each other over the years. He would pop into my life at odd times - sometimes invited, often unexpected - and then disappear back into his world.  More about that later.

We first met when he was 2 years old. He moved into my parents' house with his two brothers (age 1 and 3) when I was 14. He immediately fell in love with my stuff and this didn't sit well with me. He thought I was cool to have such cool toys - which was cool, you know - but he was only two and everything he touched seemed to break. I could never find a place to put my stuff where he couldn't find it - and play with it, and inevitably break it. Maybe this is why I've always been so good at fixing things.

I don't remember how long he lived with us but, as both of us grew up, we continued to share a common interest in cool 'toys' like ears (old cars that had potential) and tractors (he preferred John Deere because that's what my Dad had on the farm). Basically anything mechanical; preferably anything that needed fixing up, and most important anything that had some link to our past. And David actually got really good at fixing things himself.

David and Carrie planting Poplar 'sticks' 1999

It was hard not to like David (even for a spoiled fourteen-year-old like me) because he would do anything for anyone. He was kind-hearted, fun to be with and sometimes too(?) exciting. He was always moving; sometimes without thinking - it seemed.  This got him in some trouble at times.  The farm house, where we grew up,  had very steep stairs which we all had trouble learning to navigate as toddlers (I know that I rolled down those stairs a couple times) but it seemed like David had more than his share of tumbles. And I have vague memories of other times in his life where he'd lead with his head. These made for great stories, and he'd laugh about them after he got out of the hospital.

David and Stuart 1999

At many times in my life, David was there when I needed him. He would call and say; "Stuart - what are ya doin'?". And then he'd come over and help me roof the house, or fix the windows, or plant  trees, or fix the tractor. There was always something going on and he wanted to help - if he was in town.

When David started driving truck (over the road) he would often call - out of the blue - because he was thinking about something, or had come up with an idea. He'd be in Florida, or Arizona, or New England. One time he called and asked me if I knew the words to the song "American Pie".  He wanted to know what the words mean. I didn't know ( but, this past summer, I learned that song and was thinking about showing off and playing it for him next time I saw him - if he was still interested.)

David loved to be involved with anything to do with family. He would sometimes call to see if I was at the farm of if I knew what Roland (my brother) was doing so we could get together to work on some project; either at Roland's woods or at the farm.

One time he called from the truck stop in Madison and said he had too many

David and Roland planting Oak trees  (2011)

hours on his log and needed to kill some time; could I pick him up and go to dinner. So Debi and I went to dinner with him and we caught up on all the family news. After dinner we dropped him off back at the truck stop and he was gone again.

Even though he called often, he didn't like talking on the phone. He would say what he had to say and then cut it off - sometimes abruptly - with; "Later" ( no 'bye' - just 'later' ) and the line would go dead.

And then I wouldn't hear from him for months (sometimes years). But I often thought about him; out there on the highway, on his way to here or there - whereever. He liked being on the road. He was in control of his life when he was driving. Nobody to tell him what to do. Nobody to talk him into doing something that he'd regret. Like I said, he'd do anything for anyone. 

I don't pretend to understand the world in which he lived (a fact he reminded me of often). Nor do I understand the demons that he fought so hard. But he was a good friend - perhaps more because of his nature than mine. Even thought I didn't hear from him very often - lately, at least - it was comforting to know he was out there and thinking about projects that we could work on the next time we got together. Some of these were really 'out there',  but they were always interesting. 

So David; I will miss you dearly. I will think about you often and wonder where this new road is taking you. I hope you find peace.  Later.