lukeli’s posthaven

Well, another week, another Sunday, another blog post. I was toying with the idea of posting my first, "Sorry, I'm busy" message, but something happened this week that truly touched me. It's one of those golf ball moments (see previous week) where I know that getting 7 hours or 7.5 hours or 8 hours of sleep wasn't going to make that much of difference, and that time could be well spent on this week's post. Anyways, here it goes.

I feel like I've fallen into quite a rhythm by now. After about six weeks here in Michigan, the LRC has become my prime study spot. I even have a specific computer I like to sit at while I work. The nights are growing longer, and I find myself wearing my sweater more often when I walk back home under the Ann Arbor streetlights. Hot dogs were my friend this week (yay for precooked meats and the George Foreman Grill). And unbelievably, I got into both the Michigan Pops Orchestra and Hockey Band. Talk about rhythm. Inputting all the rehearsals and performances into my PDA and Google Calendar made me realize how much I need to stay on top of my schedule from now on. Sometimes, though, something can happen that can throw a bump into all that rhythm, and it's been interesting to observe myself and see how I react.

This past Tuesday, September 16, 2008, David Erich Hahn passed away from natural causes at the age of 35. The vast majority of you reading this post might have no idea who David was. You probably don't know that he went by the name "Super Dave," or that he was born with Williams syndrome (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Williams_syndrome), or that he was a fixture of the Palo Alto and Stanford community. What saddens me a little is that people reading this blog might not know that he was one of the biggest supporters of Stanford athletics and of the Stanford Marching Band, who even played drums with us at times. It'll be hard to describe to folks who never had the pleasure of meeting Super Dave, just how much he embodied the Stanford Band spirit that I love so much and that has played such a big role in shaping my personality. He had no social phobia whatsoever, was always smiling, and never hesitated to give out hugs and high-fives.

Why am I taking so much time to describe Super Dave? In part because this is the only way I can pay tribute to him from Ann Arbor. There was an open memorial service this past Sunday, and apparently the synagogue it was held in couldn't accommodate all the people who wanted to attend. I guess I feel sad (guilty? frustrated? disappointed?) that I couldn't be there for him, and writing this post is making me feel a little better (though there is a small lump forming in my throat as I write). I wish so much that I could show as much support for Super Dave as the folks who were fortunate enough to be in the area at the time of his passing. I know there was no way I could have made it on such short notice (and on a med student's budget), and I know writing this post is the best I can do, but for some reason it just doesn't seem to be enough. I'd like to visit his resting place when I come back to Palo Alto (should add it to my to-do list). Maybe that will help give me some closure to this whole situation.

What am I trying to say here? If you're not asking that question, I certainly am. I think I'm trying to thank Super Dave for the moments we had at Stanford Band events. I never hung out with him that much (certainly not as much as some Stanford Bandies), but just before I left for med school, I feel like he was starting to recognize me. I don't think he ever learned my name, and I'm sad (guilty? frustrated? disappointed?) that I never thought to introduce myself. However, just knowing that he saw me as an acquaintance, maybe even as a friend, is an honor. Though, to be honest, for Super Dave, everyone was a friend. Everyone was a familiar face :-).

Maybe these two items will help clarify what I'm trying to get at. First is a wonderfully eloquent tribute to Super Dave, written by one of the Band Old Farts and sent out to the Band email list. The second is a short video of a poem made by two UMich med students as their required, culminating "interpretative project" to the med school's Family Centered Experience program (http://www.med.umich.edu/lrc/fce/).

I hardly knew David Hahn. As a long-time band alum, I met him only a handful of times, and probably only ever got one hug (my loss), but if I was to have the honor of saying a few words at his memorial, this is what I would say:

David was a lucky man.

Lucky in the family he had, that cherished and encouraged him rather than hiding him away out of shame.

Lucky in the community where he lived, that welcomed him rather than merely tolerating or, worse, shunning him as folks in so many other places would have.

Lucky in what afflicted him, because it left him such a wonderful talent to communicate with others.

Who indeed was luckier? Him, who got so much joy every day from simple human interaction? Or the rest of us, who keep measuring sticks of relative happiness, suffer from envy, and cause and carry grudges (much as we try not to)?

He gave us all lessons in how to live each day more lightly, and I hope we all keep a bit of those lessons with us.

David was dealt a poor hand in life, and yet…he played it brilliantly.

-Kern Lewis

Even as I look anxiously at the imposing balancing act my life will be this semester (classes, quizzes, my first clinical experiences, Pops, Hockey Band, LSO, etc.), these two items above describe how I wanted to thank Dave for reminding me that life can be full of happiness, a happiness and unabashed joy that defined his very character. Anyone who ever had the pleasure of knowing Super Dave would know that this ability was, perhaps, his greatest gift to us all.

God bless you, Super Dave. Rest in peace.

Postscript: Here are some more links, if you're interested

Fans of Super Dave Facebook Cause: http://apps.new.facebook.com/causes/119114?m=a988d
Palo Alto Daily News article: http://www.paloaltodailynews.com/article/2008-9-17-09-17-08-pa-hahn