Memories from our grieving alumni
February 8th, 2008 by 
bjanosch
For nearly 20 years, Dave Adams fostered some of IU’s most promising journalists. And for those who knew him best, the walls of the newsroom hardly defined the extent of their relationship.
The following represents merely a slice of this man we all knew so well. Whether refered to as “Dr. Dave” or “Dadams,” it’s clear in these stories that this was hardly a “publisher” in the traditional sense of the word. There are stories of house sitting, police chasing and an occasional mention of “The Wizard of Oz.”
36 former students provided more than 8,000 solemn words of reflection in less than 12 hours after news of Dave’s passing. Their stories are linked below and you can contribute your own memory by commenting on this thread.
I believe it’s rare in life to find someone totally dedicated to what he or she is doing. Not just dedicated to the day-to-day duties; I mean dedicated to the ideas behind their work, fully aware that those ideas are fleeting and sometimes difficult to defend.
Dave was that person. Not only did he sacrifice his time and his patience to the hundreds of students that saunter through those Ernie Pyle doors, he worked tirelessly to defend the First Amendment, both in the context of student media and in general practice. He watched over his students like a good father watches over his newborn children as they learn to walk, nudging them in right direction but never forcing their movement. We couldn’t have asked for a better patriarch.
Thanks Dave. You will be missed.
- Eamonn Brennan, summer 2006 editor in chief
I know my work as editor in chief last semester was better because of Dave’s guidance. I sat in his office several times a week, always munching on candy that he had in a bowl in his desk for students, and poured my heart out to him about the latest situations in the newsroom. He would drop whatever he was doing to make time for me, and I’m so grateful for him. He was an excellent mediator, and got me out of several tight situations.
Outside of the newsroom, Dave was a great travel buddy. Along with other IDSers, I went with Dave to New York City twice for journalism conferences. That man loved Broadway, and saw as many shows as he could in the time we were there.
I remember not too long ago, a few IDSers were in the car with him on the way to Ball State for another journalism conference. It was 7 a.m. and we were trying to sleep, but he was blasting music from “Jersey Boys” and snapping to the beat.
I can’t believe he’s gone. I knew he was sick, but I didn’t realize this could happen. I will miss him so much. At final Slash, he gave me a few great big bear hugs. I’m so glad he did.
- Kacie (Foster) Axsom, spring 2007 editor in chief
Whenever we think about the IDS we think of Dave Adams.
We don’t think anyone loved our college newspaper as much as he did. He stood up for the IDS even if it sometimes hurt him professionally and personally. But he didn’t care because he believed so much in the importance of college journalism. If it wasn’t for people like him we don’t think we would be in journalism today.
But he was more than just our newspaper adviser. He was also a friend. What always struck us was his genuine love of people. He always gave people many chances, and would always reach out and give of his limited time – no matter where you were. If he was at a conference in a city near you or if you were visiting Bloomington, he always made time for you.
We remember the twinkle in his eyes when he was about to share a tantalizing piece of gossip. And we love to tell the story about when we went with him to the Herman B Wells funeral. We were in the first row behind the important people. Even though it was a solemn time, he still managed to gossip very loudly about some of the IU dignitaries who were there. We felt a mixture of concern that they would hear him and also curiosity about what else he knew about them. We tried to get him to whisper, but Dave never whispered. That wasn’t his style.
The last time we saw him was last summer when he insisted we go out for dinner at Little Zagreb’s. We talked about our lives and he offered good advice about careers and caught us up on everyone we knew. Not only was Dave important to the IDS, but he also was very important to college journalism around the country. When a group of us went with him a journalism conference when we were in college. We were so surprised by how
many people were impressed that we knew and worked for Dave. During that same conference he was honored for his commitment to journalism ethics and that was the first time many of us truly understood what a gift it was to have Dave as our adviser.
When we called people to tell them about Dave’s death we received mixtures of surprise, concern and sadness. Many of us kind of assumed Dave would always be there and each time we came back we would pop our heads into his office and find a super busy, kind of flustered Dave. It will be very strange to go back to the IDS and know that he is not there.
- Olivia (Clarke) Silver, spring 2000 editor in chief, and John Silver, summer 2000 editor in chief
What always impressed me about Dave was his commitment to the first amendment, specifically freedom of speech. I never felt that there wasn’t a story, as long as it was true, that we couldn’t pursue or print. He supported our judgment and his laissez faire attitude motivated us to “go for it,” whether it be getting the big interview with Coach Knight or
exposing illegal or unbecoming behavior by a team or a club. He also encouraged student leadership of the paper. It was our paper and our writers and our editors. That kind of leadership meant a significant amount of responsibility, but that responsibility was an opportunity afforded to the lucky few, and what a great experience it was. As an advisor to a high school publication, I replicate Dave’s style by allowing my students’ to grow as individuals by letting them take the reigns and run the publication. I’m a supportive figure, just like Dave was.
- Sharna Marcus, summer 1997 editor in chief
Dave was such a happy-go-lucky guy–always laughing and chatting. And, he always gave you a big hug if he hadn’t seen you in a while, or if he wasn’t going to see you for a while.
Being IDS publisher wasn’t just a job to Dave—he lived and breathed the IDS. He instilled that passion in his students and taught us to really care about the product. When he had a criticism about your work, he gave you suggestions, but he did it in a way that didn’t destroy your confidence. He constantly thought about ways to make the paper–and his students–better. Dave wanted the best out of his staffers–he wanted you to apply for editor positions, even if you didn’t think you were ready at all. He had faith in us and trusted that we would do well.
He took me under his wing my freshman year and encouraged me to work on the yearbook staff and then helped me switch to working on the paper. Then, when I was a senior he pushed, pushed and pushed me to run for editor-in-chief. I’ll admit it–he could be overbearing, anyone who was close to him will tell you that–but he did it only out of love.
I last saw Dave when he came to New York City for a conference in March. He had asked me to help him put an IDS student-alumni reception together and I helped him find a place to host it. He wanted to have the reception so he could connect current students with IDS alumni in NY–again he was thinking only of his students, and past students. At that reception, I proposed a toast to him. Students, alumni and friends raised a glass to show him how much they appreciated everything he’d done. I’m so glad I got one last
chance to thank him, but I do regret that I won’t ever be able to give him a big hug again.
- Emily Hendricks, spring 2003 managing editor
I can’t even begin to describe how devastating the loss of Dave Adams is to IU Student Media, Indiana University and the national community of student publications. Dave devoted his life to his work and committed his time and energy to others. Dave’s passing is really a death in the family. Everyone, himself included, called him “Dadams,” as he was a father away from home. From getting his editors Christmas presents to trusting them to housesit while he was on vacation, he truly accepted his students as members of his family. He bailed us out of trouble and dropped what he was doing when we locked ourselves out of the office. He gave us his cell phone number and let us call at any time with any problem. We went on trips with him and laughed at his driving and Broadway iPod mixes. Dave had a sweet tooth and always kept a bowl of candy on his desk. It was a community stash, and students always unwrapped a piece without needing to ask when they stopped by to talk.
IU Student Media and every student’s life he was a part of will never be the same. The best way to remember him and to preserve his memory will be by maintaining the integrity of the Indiana Daily Student and Arbutus that he worked so hard to achieve and teach us.
I’m so deeply saddened that he will never get to see the 2007 Arbutus. He was incredibly instrumental in its production. I cried on his shoulder during deadlines, came to him for advice and beamed when he told me the pages looked beautiful. I’m dedicating this book to him because he deserves a place on the pages of IU history, pages he dedicated his life to publishing.
- Lauren Cooper, 2006-07 Arbutus editor
I will never forget the way I felt when Dadams complimented my work at IDS for the first time. When it happened I didn’t even know him that well, but his positive comment felt so profound to me – coming from this man whom everyone respected. Dave was always agreeable to me in conversations, easy to talk with despite his stature. His kind words of encouragement undoubtedly impacted and inspired that which I’ve had the privilege of contributing to IDS and INside.
- Michelle Manchir, spring 2006 arts editor
The summer of 2003 seems an eternity ago. I was an IDS Arts Editor filled with piss and vinegar making the hop from soft news, to hard news covering Cops.
Armed with a steno pad, a pager, and police scanner, I spent a wonderfully exciting and challenging summer riding around in police cars trying to make the most of the pseudo-criminals whose names appeared in local police blotters.
But, it was the time I spent with Dave Adams, a friend, mentor, and role model, that I think of so fondly now.
I was house sitting for Dave and his two dogs, a couple of Pugs who sniffed and snorted more than I did that hayfever filled summer. Dave, and his partner Jimmy, had just returned from a weekend getaway in Chicago. No sooner had Dave slung their bags into the living room, the police scanner on my belt started emitting radio traffic from a police chase that had started near the stadium on 17th Street.
“Oh, no, I don’t have a car.”
“We’ll take mine,” said Dave, not missing a beat.
I got behind the wheel, Dave sat in the passenger seat, and the police scanner was between us. We covered the distance between his home on Winslow Road to the area on campus around 10th and Woodlawn in less than five minutes. I blew stop signs, skirted around slow pokes, and weaved through traffic as Dave called out directions based on the radio traffic we were overhearing on the scanner.
Dave and I made it to the end of the chase - the cops finally stopped their man with stop sticks - near the curve in 11th Street where it turns into Woodlawn. His white Toyota was missing a hubcap, and Dave’s hair was a little more gray than when we first started. But, he was in that exciting moment with me as we raced needlessly into uncertainty all for the sake of getting the story.
It is ironic that I tell this story, because Dave made me promise not to tell it until after his death.
Dave helped me get not only that story, but a more personal story, as well.
Being gay isn’t easy, even in a utopia overflowing with tolerance such as Bloomington.
Dave and I shared many conversations about living life in the closet, and about making a life for yourself outside of the closet. Dave was indeed a role model for me, a role model for being “out” as a way to further my own journey of self-discovery, but just as much a role model in terms of sending an important message: gay equality. Dave set forth a courageous example of someone who had spent too long trapped in a closet, and realized it was time to come to terms with being gay.
It was an example I took great pride in, and will always take pride in, until Dave and I meet up again when I, too, face my own mortality.
I am proud that Dave and I were openly gay at the IDS, and I’m so fortunate to have worked with so many wonderful contemporaries who never once quashed our joyful expressions of being okay with who we were.
My only regret is never telling him that to his face.
- Brandon S Morely, IDS staffer from 2002-06
To summarize his kindness to me throughout my own personal misguided hours is impossible here. Yet in what meager tribute I can make, I wish to remember the pride he had, not only in his paper, but in his purpose. Where a young cynical mind wrestled with rights, wrongs, and whether or not it was worth all of the heartache, he was stalwart in assuring me, and I’m sure countless others, that there are things worth believing in, that there is a “good” in it all somewhere. And whether or not it was seen in the stories reported, or the lessons learned that never left the newsroom, that good was nowhere more evident than in Dave’s hearty laugh, open door, and firm embrace.
My prayers go out to all that his life touched. We were lucky to have him when we did.
- J.P. Benitez, spring 2005 managing editor
It’s just such a shock. Dave Adams was one of the driving forces behind Student Publications and helped shape a program that has produced exceptional journalism talent. We owe him so much for the guidance and passion he brought to each staff meeting, each deadline, and each moment that he took the time to care about his students – and there has never been any doubt that Dave cared. Dave cared about the publications and he cared about the students. He pushed us to be our best and then pushed us just a little bit farther to be better than our best and create publications that we can look back on at any point in our lives and still feel proud that we were part of the tradition of excellence in Student Publications at Indiana University. Dave was such a fixture in my life by my senior year that I can’t even imagine an Ernie Pyle without him. There were weeks where I spent so much time in the office that I saw more of him than I saw of my own roommate. Saying that I will miss him seems insignificant compared to the loss that I feel on a personal level and a professional level when I think of everything he accomplished at IU. Dave was an advisor, a publisher, a professor, and a friend. I will miss him.
- Valerie Aquila, 2003-2004 Arbutus managing editor
Today student media lost one of its greatest shepherds. David L. Adams built the resources that gave me and so many of my friends such a great paper to work for. Adams was a friend to all that knew him, except those who stood in the way of student journalism. Open and honest himself, he engendered an atmosphere where students felt comfortable sharing with Adams their frustrations with their co-workers and sources.
I’ll not harp on, as I know not what else to say. Goodbye, Dave – you were loved; you are missed.
- Sam Nissen, fall 2006 art director
The best thing about Dave was his ability to guide a young and inexperience journalist through their first year of being exposed to the world of journalism. That is what he did for me. Dave helped me understand the fundamental principles of journalism and how to apply them to an ever changing world – principles I use today and will forever.
- Mike Malik, spring 2005 campus editor
I greatly appreciate every opportunity Dave Adams gave me and the hundreds to thousands of other students involved in the IDS and Arbutus. Thanks to him and his vast knowledge, I was part of a consistently award winning yearbook staff. Dave truly loved his job and cared for each and every student he worked with. Thank you Dave.
- Holly Pilewski, 2005 Arbutus Managing Editor
It was always incredible to me as a student that this man who made so much time for so many of us also had the time to develop a national reputation. We went to conferences, and everyone knew Dave Adams. He served as the executive director of the Journalism Education Association, the president of the College Media Advisers and Chairman of the Student Press Law Center Board.
He cared passionately about students, about media and about the importance of a free press. He lobbied hard for the issues he cared about, and his word and reputation had enough clout to make things happen. He will leave quite a void. I’ve been graduated for six years now, and Dave was still a close friend. I last saw him a month ago, when several us were at his house making homemade pizzas for dinner. He was smiling and excited and happy. I’m glad that’s my last memory of him.
- Andy Gammill, IDS staffer from 1997-2001
Dave was truly a friend to anyone who ventured into the IDS newsroom. He loved his job, and it showed. He was always willing to stick around to help out anyone needing help. He was as dedicated to his profession as anyone I have ever known. He always went out of his way to read each day’s paper in its entirety, and he would frequently hunt down writers – both new and old – to compliment us or give us advice on our work. Dave’s office door was always open for anyone seeking advice or wanting to chat; he always kept his candy dish full for us. At the IDS, we really do become like a family from working so closely together for so long. Dave has served as the father figure to many different “families” throughout his years here, and I know there are many in this family who will be grieving the loss of such a great person. Dave lived and breathed journalism, and his death is a great loss for this paper, the School of Journalism and the whole IU community.
- Brittany Hite, fall 2006 managing editor
My first memory of Dave Adams was in the fall of 1991. I was a future transfer student who had been attending IUPUI. I stopped in to the Daily Student office the day I was registering for spring classes and kind of randomly asked if I could meet with the publisher. He invited me into his office and chatted with me for a few minutes without pretense or arrogance. The thing that really impressed me is the respect with which he treated me and the time he took to answer all my questions about joining the IDS staff
and introducing me to staff members.
As my career there took shape, I recall Dave as a staunch defender of our editorial independence against criticism from academia (some of them from the J School) and elsewhere. Everyone who knows him also knows he has a very colorful side to his personality. My fondest such memory involves a trip a group of us took to a college media conference one fall. We all went out on Halloween night and there was Dave, all done up as a vampire.
He helped me believe I could not only fit in at the Daily Student but also that I could thrive there and elsewhere.
I’ll miss his humanity, his zany sense of humor and his support.
- Chris Rickett, fall 1993 editor in chief
I was EIC of the IDS in Fall of 2001. I worked at the IDS since my first semester freshman year. From the beginning, I was in awe of Dave. Everyone who worked at the IDS knew and respected his time commitment and dedication to all students, but what was remarkable was the reach he had outside of Bloomington. As an ardent defendant of the student press, Dave become a national and international figure. He traveled all over the world defending the rights of student and international journalists alike. I was so impressed by how many lives Dave reached, but I know I’ll probably never know the extent of it.�
Even though I spent four years at IU, I consider the IDS my education. Much of that is largely attributed to Dave and the freedoms he gave us as journalists. He treated us all like adults and allowed us to make our own decisions, even when he disagreed, all the while supporting us. He had confidence in us as student journalists even when we didn’t have confidence in ourselves.
I was beyond saddened by Dave’s sudden passing. When I heard the news it was as though a family member had passed away. The IDS was such a huge part of my life that I consider all those who were part of it as a special family. Dave was the leader of that family who always cared to find out how his former students were doing while praising the work of his current students.
Dave’s passing is a tremendous loss for future student journalists who will not have the opportunity to work alongside such a supportive and extraordinary leader. I’m so glad I knew Dave and was able to work with him for four years. I’m grateful he always believed in me and I’ll miss having him as my friend.
- Gina Czark, fall 2001 editor in chief
Dave Adams had invited the new Fall 2001 staff over to his place for a barbeque and I remember walking into his place and being amazed for his love for The Wizard of Oz. When I first walked in I noticed the yellow brick road running through the living room and all the movie memorabilia he collected, not to mention his dogs were named Dorothy and Toto.
So fast forward two years to Fall 2002 when Dr. Dave decided to move on from IU for a little hiatus and go to Hawaii. That semester I was on the management team as Visual Coordinator under editor Gina Czark. So when we heard the news, we knew we had to do something special for his going away. On our final night with our staff we ran to the party store and got a huge roll of yellow picnic table cover and a bunch of Hawaiin themed decorations. We transformed the newsroom into a mini Oz with a touch of Hawaii. The yellow brick road stretched the newsroom all the way to his office door and bunch of palm trees were put up. We also added Dr. Dave into the management tradition of putting our picture in the nameplate on P1 for the final issue of the semester. To top it all off, we had also created a tribute issue for him and the staff. It was both a happy and sad time for him and the staff.
Dr. Dave is a great man who has always been there for everyone. I will truly miss him and the love he always extended out to me and my partner.
- Melbert Sebayan, fall 2002 art director
Dave owned two pugs, Dorothy and Toto. He asked me to watch them one summer, and I promised myself I would never own one of these creatures. But Dave, and Jimmy, loved them. Few people outside of the IDS circle knew of Dave’s love for the Wizard of Oz. In his house he had an “Oz” room that was stuffed with pictures of ruby slippers, porcelain scarecrows and statues of witches. Years ago, The Indianapolis Star ran a profile on him, not because he was leading one of the most renowned and award-winning college newspapers in the country, but because he had a yellow brick road winding through his house.
Dave was still a kid, whether it was his love for “Oz” or his passion for molding young journalists. In the newsroom, he felt like a big brother, not an overbearing lecturer. He was a brother whose opinions we valued and whose views we respected, and he was the rare professor who didn’t feel above his students to joke and poke fun at himself. He was a guide when we were unsure of which road to take, and he taught by showing, not telling. What the IDS’s writers and editors are doing on the pages of today’s newspaper is what Dave would’ve wanted most: to report the story that matters to students accurately and to arrive at the truth, whatever that may be. Unfortunately today’s truth is that Dave has left us, but if you look at the work inside today’s IDS and from IU’s journalists at newspapers and magazines all over the country, he really hasn’t.
- Josh Sanburn, spring 2005 editor in chief
Dave Adams was one of the sweetest people I have ever known. He was intelligent, easy to talk to, and most of all, a good friend. I remember going to Nashville with him during my senior year at IU for a newspaper convention. He was beaming with pride as the IDS walked away with a handful of awards. Dave always had a smile on his face and I will always remember him that way.
- Lori Geller, fall 2004 campus editor
Dave Adams was the strongest supporter the IDS could have ever had. He loved the paper and the staff and would go to war for anyone who worked there. He would always have your back. If you needed a glowing letter of recommendation, career advice or just wanted to vent about life in a “closed-door” convo, he’d be there for you. Dave had many endearing eccentricities, such as his love of “Wizard of Oz” paraphernalia. I don’t think anyone who spent much time at the paper left without at least one good Dave story. Just like when any of us lose someone close, many of us, myself included, might regret that we didn’t stop by and see him the last time we were in town or didn’t e-mail him often enough. Still I’m confident that Dave Adams knew he was loved and appreciated by all of his current and former IDS staffers. We’ll miss you Dadams.
- Adam Aasen, fall 2005 editor in chief
As a recent alumna of what quickly became a family at the IDS, I am honored to have worked with Dave Adams. Most of how I experienced his presence was behind the scenes, but I understand as well as the next person how much he affected IU Student Media on a daily basis. Even though he trusted us enough to give us the independence we wanted, we all knew the paper wouldn’t be nearly what it is today if it weren’t for Dave. I always knew I had Dave’s support through my journey as a reporter to an editor. His professionalism was unfaltering even though he always had a smile on his face. His temperament was very helpful for me to have around in an environment which wasn’t always so calm. Dave, thank you for everything you’ve done for IU Student Media over the last decades. You will be missed
- Lori Snow, fall 2006 general assignments editor
I think the thing I’ll remember about Dave the most is that he was never too busy to stop for a student — never too busy to say hello, or see what we were up to, or ask if there was anything he could do for us. Even after I graduated in 2000, Dave would always check in, always answer an e-mail, always chat with me when I’d stop by. He cared about everyone he came in contact with, and that made my time at the IDS even better.
On another note — he always was the kind of adviser who would do just that — advise. He let us make our own decisions (and fair share of mistakes) and would intervene when needed, but only when asked. If he stepped in, there would have been a damn good reason for it, and he always let us know what that was. He was preparing us for the real world, for the day when we would be on our own; in a sense, he was like a dad, readying his kids for the real world
- Sean Driscoll, spring 2000 opinion editor
Dave’s real strength was that he truly understood the Indiana Daily Student was a student newspaper. He allowed us to run the paper with little interference, only occasionally stepping in to referee particularly contentious issues or personal squabbles. Otherwise, he let us succeed — and sometimes fail — on our own. I have come to realize that it took a lot of courage for him to do that, and I’m sure he turned down more than one overture from the administration to rein us in a little.
Dave had a very tough task in following Pat Siddons as the publisher. The legend of Pat includes the story that he once jumped across his desk to punch someone who came into his office to tear down the Daily Student, and people revered him for that passion. I know Dave worked very hard to gain the trust of those first few classes who had worked under Pat, and over time I think he showed people that he and Pat shared a very key trait — they cared about the good of the paper and its students first and foremost.
Some of us fought Dave over the decision to go from a paid circulation paper to a mass distribution product, and I was probably one of the more vocal critics of the decision. It was a great source of pride for some of us that we were one of only two college papers at the time with paid subscribers. But in the end, I realized Dave was right. Our goal at the Daily Student wasn’t to hold ourselves out as special because we had a unique subscriber base. It was to hold ourselves out as special because we reached as many students as possible with quality journalism.
Though Dave and I didn’t agree on everything in my time at the Daily Student, I never for one second doubted where his heart was, and I think the Daily Student has lost one of its greatest fans.
- JR Ross, fall 1995 editor in chief
Lots of people are good at their jobs, and Dave obviously threw himself wholeheartedly into his work, making a name for himself and every student newspaper he touched. But what made Dave so incredible was his commitment to us students on a person level. He got to know every student who cared to know him.
And he was our biggest supporter and sometimes one of our only allies at this university. He would have marched barefoot into hell and back for us. No one fought harder for the Daily Student.
But it was his personal connection that puts me forever in his debt. As I was undertaking the most exhausting, difficult and trying experience of my life - running the Daily Student - his genuine concern for my wellbeing and the things going on in my life outside the newspaper that helped me make it through the semester. That semester I needed his friendship and support more than all the journalistic advice in the world, and he gave me both. I shudder to think what I would have done without him. I pity the future editors of this newspaper who will have to overcome the trials and tribulations of working at the IDS without his overflowing and ever-present kindness.
- Michael Zennie, fall 2006 editor in chief
I remember the first time I met Dave Adams, I was a wide-eyed high schooler trying to make a decision about college. I was making my first visit to IU, and Dave was gracious enough to meet with me and encourage me in my decision-making process. I left Dave’s office that day knowing I would attend IU. Through my years at IU, Dave was always there as an encourager, a friend, or just someone to listen and help you work through problems - whether they were about the newspaper or not. When I came back to IU to work for the School of Journalism this past fall, Dave was there again, welcoming me and making me feel like I was back at home.
Dave had a great way of always making everyone feel like they were important. He cared about journalism, the ethics and his students deeply, and he will certainly be missed.
- Tim Street, fall 2003 art director
As a member of the IDS family, I was deeply saddened to hear about Dave’s passing. I want to take this opportunity to help the paper express to his friends and family just how much he meant to us. Dave showed constant interest in our lives and our work. He shared his life and experiences with us. He gave us guidance, support and sometimes candy. He was every IDSer’s biggest fan. And for that we are not only better journalists, but also better people. It was a privilege to have Dave as a teacher and a friend.
- Stephanie Susman, 2006 IDS graduate
My parents had only met Dave Adams once - at my graduation. But that one time made an undeniable impression on them. When I told my parents that Dave had passed away, my mom’s response summed up my feelings, “He was such a nice man.”�
In fact, it would be hard to find one nicer.
She met him just once, two years ago, but Dave made it a point to meet all the parents of the students he worked closely with on a daily basis. She never forgot him and neither will I.
Whether I snuck into his office for a few pieces of candy or traded barbs about his less than rosy outlook on sports, interaction with Dave always left you with a smile on your face.
“I hate sports,” he would say. “But you guys do a great job.”�
During the summer of 2004 while I was the sports editor, the IDS ran a controversial story that required some delicate handling in its aftermath. Instead of getting angry or penalizing those responsible for the story (myself included), Dave wanted to use the situation as a learning tool for us. He sat us down and talked with us respectfully and honestly; like peers, not students.
When I was applying for internships my senior year, I asked Dave to write a letter of recommendation for me. He didn’t hesitate to say, “Happily.” I know I wasn’t supposed to read the letter of recommendation he wrote, but I did so anyways. The words were glowing and personal. It gave me an extra boost of self-esteem to know a man so revered in the journalism community would write such kind words.�
Suffice to say, I got the internship, and I think in large part it was because of Dave. Maybe not because of his letter of recommendation, but because of the lessons I learned from him during my three years at the IDS.�
He will be greatly missed.
- Matthew Glenesk, fall 2004 sports editor
I just heard about Dave passing this morning, so I guess it makes sense that it doesn’t feel real yet. It doesn’t feel right that one of the most animated, vibrant characters I’ve ever known should pass without having a chance to say goodbye in a way befitting a guy like Dave. I’m not sure that I’ll ever get that to settle just right, but I’ll always be grateful for the home he gave to me and some of my best friends in the world. He helped to set so many of us, an innumerable amount of IDS alum, on a no-look-back path to success. I know I couldn’t possibly do him justice, so I’ll just give him one more thanks and hope he’s at peace.
- Jordan David, 2006-07 INside art director
One year at a College Media Advisers conference we all started referring to Dave as “Dadams”. The moniker was pretty easy; it’s his IU e-mail address. Regardless, Dave loved it; he had 15 kids running around calling him “Dad”. In truth that’s what he was to us. Not only was he our publisher and guide while putting out a newspaper and yearbook, but a surrogate parent. He was someone we could go to with our problems, talk to him about the future or just gossip with him outside the newsroom. Dave gushed acceptance and support; he was our biggest cheerleader. Student Publications, the IU community and all your “kids” will miss you “Dadams”.
- Katie Schoenbaechler, fall 2004 managing editor
Nobody loved teaching kids about journalism more than our Dadams.
Dadams, his Indiana University username, was also our nickname for Prof. Adams. And it seemed fitting. The hours per week he spent counseling us, making sure we ate right and listening to our problems – the academic, the personal and otherwise – he was, in many ways, our home-away-from-home Dad.
Dadams and I became very close during my final graduate school semester at IU. He was my professor of a seminar class that only consisted of two students. During each class meeting, he made sure to bring a pocket full of chocolates and caramels for his two pupils. “Eat the milk duds,” he would say. “They’re good for you. They have calcium.”
One day, Dadams came to our class with his two front teeth missing. It seemed his partial had been uprooted during a freak corn-on-the-cob eating incident over the weekend. But he was all toothless-smiles about it, if only disappointed during those few days he had to wait to see the dentist before he could enjoy another handful of milk duds.
Dadams also drove his class of two to a statewide scholastic journalism conference, in which the three of us would serve as judges for high school newspapers during some critiquing sessions. As we registered for the day, a consistent flow of teachers from around the state approached to hug him, tell him how great their students were doing and share with him the news of the academic year. It was apparent that he was just as much a father figure to his journalism teacher colleagues around the state of Indiana as he was to our little family at the Indiana Daily Student.
The last conversation I had with Dadams was from my cubicle at my first job since December graduation. He told me he was proud of me and asked me about the stories I was working on. “They’re lucky to have you,” he said. “You’re a force to be reckoned with.”
It meant more than anyone could imagine that I had made Dadams proud, and it breaks my heart that throughout my life, when the next great reporting job or story comes along, I won’t hear that scruffy, boisterous voice on the other end of the phone saying, “I knew you’d do it.”
- Elisha Sauers, fall 2006 WEEKEND editor
It was a big shock to hear about the loss of Dave Adams. Because for me and my memories of the IDS Dave Adams was a apart of them. He was always someone who came in with a smile on his face and ready to help out any writer that had a question. I feel fortunate that I had the opportunity to learn from him and know him. He will be truly missed.
- Dan Click, summer 2005 sports editor
I had the privilege of sitting at the table for Dave’s first round of Sink the Biz. I believe it really was his first because his technique had the signs of a rookie: shaky hand, tentative pour, sheepish grin. Suffice it to say, Dave was a little more gregarious than usual that night.
But even before I knew him well enough to venture into his office uninvited or to convince him, kicking-and-screaming, to go to Nick’s, I knew Dave as an inseparable part of the Daily Student. He was a friendly man who seemed to know everyone and always had the admiration of older staffers. He quickly earned mine, as well.
Dave obviously loved his job and seemed to take particular joy in watching awkward freshmen grow into dedicated senior editors, before moving on as life members of the IDS fraternity. He spoiled for a good fight over the First Amendment and on behalf of students who needed a hand. He was a helluva reporter, too, quickly digging up tidbits about the latest newsroom romance or camping adventure. Above all, he was a friend who didn’t forget about you after the tassels were turned. He was a fixture at weddings of his former students.
For the better part of 20 years, Dave helped guide Daily Student editors and staffers through some of the university’s biggest and most difficult stories. Coverage of Dave’s own passing will be particularly challenging without his thoughtful counsel. Yet I’m sure the staff’s effort would have made him proud.
I think Dave would want us to remember some things. He would want us to take care of each other. And he would want us to continue to fight for the First Amendment and student press freedoms. Oh, and to tell stories that make powerful people squirm. He always got a kick out of stories like that.
I hope some other IDSers will join me at Nick’s this weekend to Sink the Biz in honor of Dave.
- Cory Schouten, fall 2003 editor in chief
In our profession as journalists words are abundant, but when it comes to Dave Adams there are no words for what he meant to me and the IDS.
He was a father figure to everyone who walked through that newsroom during their college years and beyond. I’m sad, devastated, shocked but most of all proud and honored that I was able to work for a man of his journalism intelligence no matter his opinions on sports.
As a former editor in chief I had the privilege of working with Dave closer than the average IDSer, and that time helped shape me into the journalist I am today. Anyone who stopped by his corner office with a quick question was subject to an hour-long discussion. But we all loved it. His knowledge of the First Amendment and student rights was inherited by all of us. Unlike some of our talks, I’ll keep this short. I don’t need a word count to explain what he meant to me, to us, to the IDS, to Indiana and to the world of student journalism. As the news sank in, tears formed because I knew I’d never see the man who we named “Dadams” again and because we never got to share a bucket
of Sink the Biz at Nick’s. Well Dave, next time I’m in Bloomington, I’ll have a bucket for you.
- Josh Weinfuss, summer 2004 editor in chief
I remember riding to the CMA conference in Kansas City in the backseat (three across!) of his Kia Sportage. We left the morning after the November elections and I was sick as a dog, but thinking about Dave humming along to show tunes makes me smile.
As others have said, his passion for the First Amendment was remarkable. He was particularly passionate about the press and speech rights of high school and college students. His zest for life was also remarkable. He loved life, and travel and being with other people. He loved students. He loved helping students (even bailed a few out of jail) but most of all he loved watching them succeed.
He was skillful at running the IDS and Arbutus (getting and keeping them on stable financial and editorial footing). He was always eager to embrace new technologies and ideas. Under his watch, the IDS launched idsnews.com, INside and Weekend magazine.
He was a wonderful mentor to me. He counseled me through a semester as editor in chief of the IDS, hired me as Assistant Editorial Adviser, encouraged me to teach J200, supported my decision to go back to get my master’s. He proofread my master’s thesis and enjoyed watching me present it at AEJMC. He was a great boss. He never failed to tell me that my work was important and appreciated. He taught me so much in the nine years that I was lucky enough to know him. I will always be one of his students.
- Beth Moellers, fall 1998 editor in chief
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