“In the end, we all die alone”. Last November, Greenwich Democratic Town Committee Chair Dave Roberson started off his tribute to his recently deceased father challenging this view. He spoke about those who cared for his father in his final hour and he spoke of his belief in that “great cloud of witnesses” that Saint Paul talks about.

Monday, Dave challenged that view again. The newspaper reports talked about a witness who saw Dave’s car veer off the road as he suffered an apparent heart attack. They talked about the EMTs that pulled Dave from the wreckage and tried in vain to save his life. They did not talk about the angels or the great cloud of witnesses that I am sure God sent to be with Dave as he moved from this world to the next. Perhaps some of my sleeplessness Monday night was not due to the stresses in my own life, but my spirit longing to be near an old friend as he moved on as well.

Dave had a lot of friends in politics. He was a cheerful, dedicated, hard worker. As I think about his life and the crowds that will gather to memorialize it, I remember a scene from the movie Norma Rae. In it, Reuben Warshowsky, a union organizer, talks about his own father’s death and those that came to the funeral

On October 4, 1970, my grandfather, Isaac Abraham Warshowsky, aged eighty-seven, died in his sleep in New York City. On the following Friday morning, his funeral was held. My mother and father attended, my two uncles from Brooklyn attended, my Aunt Minnie came up from Florida. Also present were eight hundred and sixty-two members of the Amalgamated Clothing Workers and Cloth, Hat and Cap Makers' Union. Also members of his family. In death as in life, they stood at his side. They had fought battles with him, bound the wounds of battle with him, had earned bread together and had broken it together. When they spoke, they spoke in one voice, and they were heard. They were black, they were white, they were Irish, they were Polish, they were Catholic, they were Jews, they were one. That's what a union is: one.

That is also what we, the friends of Dave Roberson are: one. We became his friend through politics, through church, or many other activities. We might not all share the same religious beliefs or political beliefs, but we share an important kinship, or friendship with Dave Roberson and hopefully that will spur all of us on, to work for a better country and a better world.

I will miss Dave.

Note: For those of you who have not seen Dave’s tribute to his father, I am including it below the fold.