Deceased June 27, 2003
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In Memory
Dave Simms’s favorite holiday was the Fourth of July. Surrounded by his friends, family and a few thousand strangers watching the fireworks, Dave was in his element. After all, he was everything that the day stood for: loyal, celebratory, true to himself and just a little bit rebellious.
He was passionate and never passed up an opportunity to express his opinions, whether it be about the state of the world or to admonish the poor soul who attempted to fiddle with his car radio while Guns and Roses were playing—which they usually were. Of course, if Dave were behind the wheel, you’d have other things on your mind, as it was sure to be a white-knuckled ride.
Woe to those who hurt a friend of Dave’s in any way. You may not have held a grudge, but he’d hold one for you. He had a quieter touch, though, when lifting your spirits: a wink, a hug or even a deadpan, “Hey, at least you’re not on fire,” was all it took. He’d leave funny notes on your door, he’d dance with old ladies at weddings. He’d listen. In fact, Dave knew everything—every secret, confession or matter of the heart. He knew your business even before you did.
He was a compassionate physician, perhaps because he knew all too well what it was like to be a patient. Dave had suffered since childhood with an unknown autoimmune disease that affected his lungs. Many people didn’t realize just how ill he was, since he never assumed the identity of a sick person. Rather, Dave embodied life. He was more courageous than he ever took credit for.
Molly K. Lyons ‘97