FINDING A WAY TO SAY GOODBYE
By Nicole LaPrade
It was time to say goodbye.
And too soon.
As Sandy Crowell stood at the podium remembering the life of her son, who died last quarter, she reminded mourners and friends of the fullness of sophomore David Crowell's life.
"He packed an awful lot of living in those few years," she said at a memorial service Wednesday in the Mission Church.
But the service, Sandy Crowell said, was more than about her adopted son, who collapsed and died while playing soccer Nov. 9, 2005.
It was also for others to learn from his example. Accept yourself for who you are, she said.
Crowell, 20, befriended many, a telling example of a young man who simply loved life.
Nearly 100 students and staff members gathered not only to remember their "best friend," David, and his death, but to celebrate his life as a fellow resident and friend.
Matt Carnes, S.J., the Unity Residential Learning Community Jesuit-in-residence, said in his homily that the community has become closer since Crowell's death by following his example.
"He always provided real conversation and real friendship," Carnes said. "It wasn't like he was thinking about, 'what can I do for this person?' It just flew out of his heart."
"That's a great tribute to what kind of heart he had and especially to the love that his mother showed him for so long, teaching him to be the kind of person that always was reaching out," he said.
Sandy Crowell said that in the past few weeks, "people who hadn't seen David in the last couple of years have come up to me and said, 'He was my best friend.' I think he was everyone's best friend, there was room in his heart for everyone."
Carnes echoed that sentiment of David's friendly demeanor. People, he said, would not only stop to say "hello" to Crowell while he worked at the Walsh Hall service desk, but they'd also end up staying, talking for hours on end.
"Sometimes, David would get done with his shift, he'd come out, and you'd see people sitting out there in the hall continuing their conversation, laughing but also sometimes talking about really, really deep things," Carnes said. "In fact, I knew later why he started to get that title of his, that he really took great delight in, 'Dr. David,' not just desk receptionist David, but 'Dr. David.'Ã "
"It was hard to walk into Unity without making a stop at the service desk when he was there. Sometimes he would get you with humor and point out what you were wearing, the way you were walking, or what you seemed to be thinking about. Or sometimes he'd get out that prized Nerf gun of his and give you a little shot to wake you up," Carnes said.
Student who lived with Crowell remembered an amiable resident who easily connected with people.
"When I met David freshman year, we clicked immediately, and we became the best of best friends," Alan Calderon, Crowell's friend and roommate said.
"David, my best friend, I love you. All I ask, is that you answer when I knock on heaven's door," Calderon said.
Carnes said that the "thing about David is that he always seemed to have something to be excited about. Something new was going on, like being a senator in (Associated Students) was so exciting to him. Or just the fact that a soccer game was coming up and having the chance to get together to play with friends. Or even just a trip out.
"He had an electric presence that made you want to be part of it as well," Carnes said.
Dale Johnson, Crowell's community facilitator, asked, "Who wasn't David? He was a student who wore many hats. He was a student, senator, desk receptionist, athlete, though more importantly, a friend."
"He and Alan became what I consider two of the floor's greatest leaders and pacemakers," Johnson said. "They, without even knowing it, set a tone of love, friendship, and rambunctiousness that resounds to this day."
Contact Nicole LaPrade at (408) 554-4546 or nlaprade@scu.edu.