The Worst News

One of our friends at the gym, who I’ve mentioned as “Dave 2” or “Army Dave,” went to Iraq on a contract with a security company. He got killed this week. We had been looking forward to becoming better friends with him and his wife after his return—we knew them both. It is so hard to take in that this is real, and we won’t see him again.
Dave was the tough-guy type and had had, I believe, a career in some Special Forces military branch until pretty recently. But he was funny, warm, never dismissive or sexist like my military stereotype led me to expect. You could count on him to burst out laughing, especially at himself when trying some elegant gymnastic move (like a cartwheel) that he had no chance of succeeding at. Everybody has a chance to feel comical trying something completely new at CrossFit, even tough guys.
Dave loved the gym, gave his all, and expressed awe at the skills of people who were better athletes, even though he no doubt had survival and battle skills most people have never even attempted. But there aren’t enough skills in the world to save a bodyguard from a car bomb.
Here’s Dave working out in Iraq on the pull-up bar he put together.