Remembering David Dick
Read more tributes to the man and his writing, or post your own, by going online to www.KentuckyLiving.com and clicking on “Share your own David memories."
Keep a journal
David Dick reminded me as a journalist you should keep a journal. He did.
After that professional admonition, I took to writing feelings and facts on my trips to Beirut and Russia and other places. Frequently, I wish American pioneers had written about their everyday happenings “going West.” A review would be telling. David Dick was telling us in print how important is our Kentucky living.
Will Murphy, Indianapolis
Staying close to Grandma
I live in the suburbs of Detroit and my 84-year-old grandmother lives in a town in southwest Kentucky called Sweeden. She has read Mr. Dick’s column for years and she always clips them out and mails them to me. We are very close but far away in miles. One of our favorite things to do is chat on the phone about his latest article. I looked forward to getting them in the mail from her. Thank you for the laughs and tears you’ve given me and my grandma when we are so far away.
Bridget Wheeler, Plymouth, Michigan
A civilized example
I have appreciated the unmistakable character David instilled in what he wrote—and what he did not write. He never took up his time and ours in empty trivia or nonsense; he remained positive and forward-looking, purposeful, with something real to say. David was an extraordinarily “civilized” person who more of us would do well to emulate. I think of him as “a professional human being.”
Jim Farris, Berea/Big Hill
Painter of words
If Norman Rockwell had been as gifted semantically as he was otherwise, he just might have been able to write almost as wonderfully as David Dick.
Asa Rouse, Walton
“See” the world
My eyes welled with tears as I read David Dick’s letter to October. I could see him at the kitchen table, pecking at his keyboard, looking at the Native American fossil by the window, thinking of days gone by and somehow knowing his days were numbered. Ready to go, if God chose now to call him home. But, still desiring to live on, to enjoy more of the splendor that God presents to us with each passing season. His writings taught me to not just look out a window, but to actually think about what I see. David Dick could “see” more in one glance than most folks would absorb in a week. My desire is to live as he did. To live the simple life, to enjoy God’s splendor, the love of my family and friends. To “see” what I am looking at and appreciate the beauty that surrounds us.
Ken Boone, Hodgenville
Thank you for the gifts
David, a very humble man, would be profoundly pleased by the outpouring of expressions of love and devotion by so many whose lives he touched in even the smallest way.
Yes, we have the personal loss of a devoted husband, father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, but before he departed, through his books and his columns for Kentucky Living, he gave us all, the people of Kentucky, the most precious gift he could give—the gift of knowing themselves and the state in which they live.
David’s voice will continue to ring through his words and will be recalled as crickets herald the arrival of winter’s winds and snow-blanketed hills, as spring’s dogwood blossoms dance on airy branches, as cattle bend heads over summer’s rich clover and hay, and in autumn as ripples sparkle over some forgotten creek’s rocks worn smooth with time.
He was a man for all seasons and we are all the richer for having known him, having loved him, and having learned from him what it means to be a quiet Kentuckian.
Thank you, David, my dearest love, for having made me a part of this good earth, this state of mind called Plum Lick, Kentucky.