One of the reasons Dave was free with his time and his advice was that he liked to talk.  Whatever the topic, whatever the time, whatever the place, he enjoyed talking.  As some of you know, Dave and I often played tennis.  Listening to him talk about tennis, many people thought that he must love playing tennis.  The fact is, I don’t think he liked playing that much.  Rather, he liked talking about playing tennis.  And during a match, he most enjoyed the period between games when we stood around the net and talked.  Then he was in his glory.

 Another of Dave’s characteristics that I loved is that he was an old-style liberal.  He believed with all of his heart that, not only government but all of us have the responsibility to help those who have been disadvantaged.  He recognized that what we often label “equal opportunity” is not equal at all, unless we help the disadvantaged to take advantage of that opportunity -- to learn to compete on an equal basis, and he worked like the devil to help in that learning.  As part of his liberalism also, he believed in free speech -- not only free speech for those with whom he agreed, but also for those with whom he disagreed.  He would be fighting hard today for the right of those who oppose our government’s actions to speak their views openly and freely.  He would disagree with those words, but he would fight for their right to be spoken.

 As Sandy and Randy have already made clear, Dave loved and was loyal to the university as few others have every been.  Just one example.  Not many days before he died, I visited him in the intensive care unit.  As you can imagine, he was in terrible shape -- hooked up to all of the machinery, a mask over his face to help him breathe, and he was supposed to stay calm and not talk.  As soon as I walked in, though, he pulled the mask down and, no matter what I did to try to keep him quiet, he insisted on talking excitedly.  And what did he talk about?  What concerned him so much at that moment?  The cuts that the state was making to the university’s budget.  He got so excited about the threat to the university that all of the bells and whistles on the machinery keeping him alive went off.  The health of the university was much more important to him than his own health.

 He was an unbelievable man.  I suspect many of our thoughts about him are echoed in these words adapted from a poem by Roland Gittelson.

 In the rising of the sun and its going down,
 We’ll remember him.
 In the blowing of the wind and in the chill of winter,
 We’ll remember him.

 In the blueness of the sky and in the warmth of summer,
 We’ll remember him.

 In the rustling of leaves and in the beauty of autumn,
 We’ll remember him.

 In the beginning of the year and when it ends,
 We’ll remember him.