Baseball Heaven

(Originally posted March 1, 2012)

I’m writing this as I sit in my car in the Seattle Keiro parking lot.

The receptionist just told me David died at 7:40 this morning.

I don’t know how anyone can get used to watching the slow process of the body shutting down. I hope never to have to make that decision, but David could see the road he was on and wanted to get off, so he decided to stop dialysis a week ago.

For decades David, a bibliophile, owned a legendary bookstore in the historic Pioneer Square area of downtown Seattle. It closed 10 years ago, so it’s becoming a hazy memory for some. But in what I describe as the Golden Age of Pioneers Square, his shop was frequented by writers, artists actors, musicians and other creative and interesting people. Where else could anyone find a first edition of James Joyce’s “Ulysses,” but in David’s bookstore.

He was an amazing person who led an extraordinary life, and he was always surrounded by extraordinary people.

David was a devoted Mariners fan. He hasn’t been able to make it the past two years, but I hope he is getting ready spring training. He lived for it, and if he’s there, I know he will truly be in heaven.

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Note: in 2010, David was featured in an advertising campaign for Swedish Medical Center. Thanks to Larry Asher of Worker Bees and the School for Visual Concepts, for allowing me the use of the following ad and television spot.

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A story about David appeared on the front page of The Seattle Times, the day following his death:

http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/thearts/2017642033_ishii02.html

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2 thoughts on “Baseball Heaven

  1. Terri, my sincere heartfelt condolscence on the lost of your dear friend. I know how you must be feeling. And I know the only thing I can do for you is to let you know that – I understand. I lost a dear colleague (Citibank) & BFF to leukemia a few years ago. She was only 27 years old 😦 The stress of the job killed her. What was most heartbreaking was that Saturday morning when they wheeled her in for another op and she cried aloud “I dont want to die!” We all told her everything will be alright and the docs know what they were doing. She died in the operating theater that Saturday. I never cried so hard. Then, there was my dearest Mom.

    But now I’ve realized (over the years) that both my BFF and Mom are in a better place – where they don’t have to suffer anymore…

    I am sure David (your friend) feels this way. Too.

    Thank you for sharing his story with us. (((HUGS)))

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