RIP Dave Adams
June 3rd, 2007 by 
Chris Freiberg, managing editor
It’s never easy to cover the unexpected passing of someone, and it’s even more difficult when that person was especially close to you and everyone around you.
Dave Adams, the publisher of the IDS for nearly two decades passed away last night unexpectedly.
Many IDS readers may not be very familiar with Dave since he rarely made his presence known in the pages of the paper, but to those of us in the newsroom, his constant support will be sorely missed.
Dave was not just the publisher of the paper, but a good friend to all of us. Whether you needed advice about a story or life in general, Dave was there to lend an ear. In years past he was known to bail staffers out of jail and show up with them at court hearings.
When I came to the IDS as a freshman, Dave would go out of his way to tell me I was doing a good job, and when I came back to the paper after taking several months off, he was the first one to welcome me back. Dave loved life and loved people, and his encouragement and passion for the First Amendment touched everyone he came into contact with.
He will be missed.
June 3rd, 2007 at 8:15 pm
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
Class of 2005
June 3rd, 2007 at 8:40 pm
I have lost one of my best friends today. There was no one like Dave. He was truly a defender of student press rights. He loved his job. He loved his students, journalism colleagues and the First Amendment.
I have been reflecting on our 22+ years of friendships today. I’ve cried and I’ve laughed. Then, when I sat down tonight to try to get my mind off of this terrible news, I flipped through the channels and saw that The Wizard of Oz is playing on Turner Classic Movies tonight. I think it’s Dave’s way of saying, he’s made his way over the rainbow, and he is at peace.
We’ll miss you Dave. You made us laugh. You showed us how to treasure our friends. Your love of journalism has touched thousands. You have done so much for us and now it is our job to carry on. Peace, my friend. Laura Widmer
June 3rd, 2007 at 9:05 pm
Dave Adams, or DADams as he liked to call himself at times, was a mentor, a professor, a friend, a publisher, a father and a journalist. In death we tend to sanctify the memory of those we loved. I find it much better to remember the person as he truly was. The whole person.
At times Dave could have a bit of a prying nature. I like to think this trait also yielded his sincere interest in his kids’ lives and also made his compliments that much more meaningful. When Dave paid a compliment he did so beautifully and whole-heartedly. He was extremely supportive when one most needed it and always up for writing recommendations.
As a professor he taught me so many fundamental things that I will soon use in my career as an educator. As a boss he taught me how to be more confident in my work. As a friend he taught me to value difficult life experiences.
Dave Adams left an indelible mark on the lives of so many students and IU Student Media employees. He will be sorely missed.
Jonathan Daugherty
Class of 2006
June 3rd, 2007 at 9:06 pm
Dave Adams, or “Dadams” as many of us called him, was truly one of a kind. Since the day I stepped into the IDS newsroom my sophomore year, he welcomed me with open arms. He was honest, caring and most of all, Dadams was someone I enjoyed learning from. No matter how busy he was, Dave always made time for IDSers.
During my time as Campus Editor at the IDS, Dave knew how nervous and stressed out I was. Those little e-mails he sent me to tell me that my section looked great made my day. I will never forget traveling to Nashville with Dave for a journalism conference. His smile was infectious and he was not only a publisher and a mentor, but Dave was a friend.
I will always remember the impact he had on me and will forever miss him. IU has truly lost one amazing Hoosier today and I hope his memory will stay alive the halls of Ernie Pyle.
Lori Geller
IU Class of 2005
June 3rd, 2007 at 9:57 pm
Dave simply made things better. No matter what the situation, no matter what the setting, no matter who was involved, when Dave entered the scene things were funnier, or warmer or more memorable or sometimes more hectic but always better.
Dave was/is the consumate teacher. Sure he taught his classes, presented at national conventions and workshops, was a presence in academia, but more importantly he taught all of us how to learn from every challenge that faced us and those around us. He taught me and so many others how to write a comprehensive printing bid and get the biggest bang for the student media buck. He taught us how to be competitive but to rejoice in the accomplishments of others. He expected excellence from himself and his students. He was a fine teacher in part becaue he never met a student he didn’t love. We were all Dave’s students and as we pass on the lessons he taught us, he’ll continue teaching for generations to come.
His passion for the First Amendment was as absolute as the First Amendment itself. He cherised its freedoms, but more importantly he recognized and respected the responsibility that went along with those freedoms.
He was a visionary, a risk taker, an out-of-the-box thinker. Most importantly he made things better – his students, the publications he advised, his friends, his loved ones, anyone whose life he touched. I’m blessed to be one of those. Thanks, Dave.
June 3rd, 2007 at 10:00 pm
While it is true that time and life marches on even after the passing of a great person, the hole that has been left by the untimely death of my friend, David Adams, is deep and profound. He was a person of great passion…for journalism and a free press, equal rights, spiritual truth, and most importantly educating others. His devotion and love for students, friends, family, and especially his partner were what made David stand out! I mourn the loss of this truly and genuinely great and gifted friend. He was a role model to me. As I watched the sun set this evening (which was a particularly brilliant display), tipping below the horizon at almost precisely 24 hours after his passing yesterday evening…it felt like a solemn yet glorious goodbye. Many tears have already been shed today and my eyes are red and swollen…but many more tears will be shed tomorrow, this week, a month from now, and in years to come as I grieve the loss of his special presence, his wisdom, his humor, and the gift of his friendship. We’ll miss you David…and we love you.
June 3rd, 2007 at 10:02 pm
I am so overcome I can hardly write. I owe Dave more than words can convey. We were friends for more than thirty years, and he recently tried to bring sanity, dignity, peace and professionalism to my campus, which has been divided by an autocratic and despotic administration. Dave’s tireless efforts on behalf of freedom accomplished much, and we must continue his life’s work. I love you, Dave, and will miss you. I will especially miss finding you hiding behind that pile of work covering your desk in Ernie Pyle Hall.
June 3rd, 2007 at 10:02 pm
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 a couple of weeks where I spent so much time in the office that I think 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 when I think of everything he accomplished at IU. Dave was an advisor, a publisher, a professor, and a friend. I will miss him.
June 3rd, 2007 at 10:08 pm
I remember meeting Dave Adams the first time I timidly walked into the IDS newsroom as a high school student. He couldn’t have been more welcoming. Throughout my time at the IDS and Arbutus, he was kind, encouraging and supportive.
I’m so grateful for all Dave did to give student journalists the best “practice ground” imaginable at IU’s student publications. We were able to make our own decisions (good and bad), away from university interference. It isn’t easy to keep publications financially afloat, especially yearbooks, but Dave made sure we had all the resources we needed.
The experiences my husband Eric White and I had at the Daily Student and the Arbutus gave us a foundation for our careers in the media industry. We were so saddened to learn of Dave’s passing. Ours are just two of the many, many lives Dave affected. We send our sincere sympathy to the student and professional staff at the IDS and the School of Journalism, and Dave’s friends and family.
Sara Brazeal
BAJ 1997
June 3rd, 2007 at 10:38 pm
What I most remember Dave for is that he allowed us to produce the best newspaper that we could, and encouraged the staff to pursue any story, write any column, photograph, and cover every event that was humanly possible. He never stymied our progress or micromanaged the newsroom. That freedom motivated us to produce the best college newspaper in the United States, and developed our own sense of self and leadership to pursue great careers inside and outside of journalism.
As an advisor to a high school student publication, I try to give my students the opportunities to create their own magazine without interference from their teacher. I try to give advice only when asked and offer support only when needed. I learned that from Dave.
I also learned the power of encouragement. I remember when Dave asked me to attend, as sophomore, a national collegiate newspaper conference in Washington. His recognition boosted my confidence and propelled my career at the IDS and at other publications. When I decided to go into teaching, he encouraged my change of career and suggested professional development opportunities to learn how to teach journalism at the high school level.
Dave will be remembered by his Hawaiian shirts, his love of the Wizard of Oz, his laugh, and, of course, his always open office door at the IDS.
June 3rd, 2007 at 10:39 pm
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 so soon, 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 – virtually the only two – 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.
And it was Dave, who by in large, helped me be okay with who I was.
I lost touch with Dave during the last year. I graduated, traveled Europe on a grant project Dave was largely responsible for helping me achieve, and got a job in my home town. I regret I became so focused on work that I never made time to e-mail Dave, even though in the last month I thought about him, and some other happy memories he and I shared.
I’ve cried a lot today. And, mostly because I never got a chance to say good bye to a man whose influenced my life in ways I’m only now understanding.
Love, Always,
Brandon
June 3rd, 2007 at 10:44 pm
I’m completely heartbroken…
Dr. D. is such a special man. There are so few people in the world who are as genuine, committed, and passionate as Dave was to his students. He mentored me, guided me, believed in me and helped me to believe in me. He’s been so instrumental in so many ways to so many — personally and professionally. He’s given so many gifts to the world. His legacy is can be seen, heard, and read by millions. His energy, spirit, and caring nature will be deeply missed. And to those who can’t believe he’s really gone, you’re not alone — I too share your sadness and will miss him dearly.
June 3rd, 2007 at 11:11 pm
I have been trying all day to put in to words what Dadams has meant to me and everyone else at the IDS. Having spent so many long hours in the IDS newsroom, Dave’s energetic and wonderful spirit was always a welcomed presence.
He has made such an impact on the lives of so many people who have passed through the doors of Ernie Pyle. It is evident by the so many phone calls made today and the stories shared how much this man meant to so many people.
I have never met someone as committed and passionate as Dave – to both journalism, free press and his students.
I can recall so many memories of Dadams, each one will always have such a special place in my heart. He taught me how to be strong-willed as a reporter, to place the passion for journalism in the right place, and how to be such a caring soul to all around him.
I still cannot truly fathom the loss of this man, who has left an everlasting impact on my life and the lives of all of us at the IDS. He will be deeply missed and in my thoughts and prayers forever.
June 3rd, 2007 at 11:24 pm
I always wanted to be Dave Adams when I grew up. While I spent many of hours in the IDS newsroom as a sports writer, sports editor and eventually editor in chief, my career goal was to become a high school journalism adviser. Dave was my role model for that pursuit. And once I eventually did, he was there for me every step of the way. I still believe he is the reason I got the job I have today as the adviser at Bloomington North. He was even at my wedding. The story I think of the most is just this year when I was questioning whether or not advising high school publications was for me. But there was Dave, reminding me of what makes this profession truly great, and we do make a difference. Whenever it comes down to a decision with my students, I always think of what Dave would do, and I always come up with the same answer: trust the kids. I have cried so much today. Not just because I have lost my mentor and friend, but because there are so many that will not have the chance to be blessed by this great man as I have.
Ryan Gunterman
Summer 2002 IDS EIC
Bloomington HS North Publications Adviser
June 3rd, 2007 at 11:36 pm
When a strong wind blows, it has been said, not one leaf remains as it once was. For many of us who spent time at IU student media, Dave Adams was such a force, and with his untimely passing we are now aware how different our lives are having spent time with him. Tonight I only wish there was one more rush of wind and not this sad stillness in the air.
Dave was an educator, an adviser, an advocate, a patriarch, and a staunch defender of the First Amendment – roles for which I will always remember, and admire, him. But for now I attempt to counter my grief by choosing to remember one particularly special moment from my life with Dave: when he smiled broadly from behind his desk in the summer of 2004 and let me know that at the Indiana Daily Student I could shed my shyness, embrace the craft of telling stories, and join in this loving family. To say simply that he had my everlasting gratitude is still nowhere close to my desire to give him his due.
June 4th, 2007 at 1:03 am
As I scroll through these heartfelt messages and read the stories of how Dave Adams has touched the lives of my fellow IDS alums, I feel sadness for the great loss that this newspaper and community has endured. But I am also in awe of the outpouring of support and love from his students, colleagues and many dear friends. I can only hope that one day I will leave a legacy half as powerful as Dave’s.
At the risk of repeating the sentiments of the many people who have remembered him here, I must say that his commitment to education, journalism and civil liberty has earned him a place in the hearts of all of the students who were lucky enough to grow as journalists and people under his tutelage. I can’t imagine the newsroom without his jovial chuckle, expert advice, sincere compassion and genuine dedication to student journalism.
It was not long ago that I saw Dave for what would be the last time at a barbecue he and Jimmy hosted for the summer staff and professional staff members. We discussed my impending move to another part of the country, and Dave eloquently expressed his loyalty to the community he had grown to love so much. “I tried life in a new place,” he said, “but Bloomington is my home. It didn’t take me long to realize that I belong here, and this is where I will stay.”
Dave was open about his love for Bloomington and for the IDS. My hope is that he also realized just how important he was to his adopted hometown and the students that populate it.
My thoughts are with Jimmy and the countless other people who love Dave as they face this difficult time.
June 4th, 2007 at 2:44 am
When I finally pulled into my driveway tonight after getting word, I realized all of a sudden that I’d been driving in complete silence for over two hours just thinking about him.
The last time I saw Dave was this past New Year’s. He seemed really happy and, despite missing a few pounds, pretty much the same Dave I had last been in the physical presence of the day he handed me my IDS pen and wished me well in the world. Dadams, Dave, Dr. Dave – no matter how we knew him – the man made an impression. Whether he was promoting freedom of the press in Africa or wrapped in a multi-colored feather boa on Bourbon street. I will never forget our discussions of life and all things IDS in his office; bar-b-ques on his deck with Jimmy, Dorothy & Toto; his unrelenting support and more than occasional vehement defense of IU Student Publications; the aforementioned boa incident; and far too many other memories to list. Dave had a wonderful way of planting the seeds of answers to tough questions in your head and trusting you to get there your own way. Then let you take all the credit. His enthusiasm for the idea that you could change the world with good journalism was infectious. Some of my greatest sadness today beyond my own personal loss is that future generations of students will never benefit from his wisdom firsthand. I sincerely hope that the spirit he infused in every aspect of IU Student Publications will be carried on by those who are charged with the daunting task of filling his shoes, and certainly by all of us who had the privilege of learning from him.
My thoughts are with Jimmy, the rest of Dave’s family and all of us who loved him. You will be missed, Dadams.
Kristen Utrecht
Managing Editor Fall ‘03
June 4th, 2007 at 7:37 am
Dave was a good friend, colleague and humanitarian, and he touched so many lives.
No matter how busy he was, Dave always found time to welcome alumni back to the IDS and to help the community.
Dave recognized the proud heritage of the IDS, and he gave his heart and soul to helping staff members be the best they can be so that the IDS can be the best it can be. He thought of staff members as members of his family.
Dave’s influence on journalism continues through the many people who carry with them his lessons and his values.
June 4th, 2007 at 8:29 am
Those of us in scholastic journalism treasured our time with Dave, who lived the tenets of the First Amendment. He was a leader in so many of the national alphabet organizations (AEJMC, CMA, SPJ, SPLC etc.) because he was a true gentleman leader. His passions were our passions, and his love for his students and friends was uncompromising. I will miss his smile, his laughter and his warm friendship. Thanks, Dave, for touching our souls and making us better people.
June 4th, 2007 at 8:43 am
Dave was my boss at the IDS at the very beginning of my career from 1990 until 1996. The IDS was my first job working with students. Here is what I learned from Dave:
1. Mistakes are good. That’s how we learn. Admit them, embrace them and move on.
2. Don’t say “No.” to a far-reaching idea. Say “How can we make that happen?”
3. Expect excellence. Students almost always rise to the occasion. If they don’t, refer to rule # 1.
4. Support your staff and protect them like a mother tiger.
5. Take writing letters of recommendation SERIOUSLY. Make them personal and positively GLOW with your regard for the candidate.
6. In addition to teaching “academics”, educators need to model respect for all, warmth, good manners, passion for causes and genuine enthusiasm and love of learning. One of the best ways to do this is to invite young people to your home for a meal.
With the exception of #2, Dave never SAID any of those things. He LIVED them, every day, with all of his being.
I have lost a good friend, a cheerleader for my career and someone who understood EXACTLY how I feel about my dogs.
June 4th, 2007 at 9:25 am
My associations with Dave began when I was on the JEA board selecting him as Executive Director and Kansas State as JEA’s home. They continued when he went to Indiana University where Dave touched the lives of so many prospective journalists, including high school advisers. I know each and every one is better for having known Dave. I had the good fortune to sit next to Dave at a small gathering to honor Dick Johns’ retirement on Saturday night of the Denver JEA convention. I will treasure that time whenever I think of Dave. Thank you, Dave, for all you have done and all you will continue to do through our memories of you.
Susan Hathaway Tantillo
Wheeling (Illinois) High School, 1971-2001
JEA Secretary
June 4th, 2007 at 10:22 am
Many offering eloquent remembrances of Dave Adams grew up in the newsroom of the Indiana Daily Student or the Arbutus. I have known Dave primarily as a fellow teacher in the classroom. Not surprisingly, we all experienced the same person.
Dave Adams was the best of teachers whether he was in the classroom or the newsroom. He was knowledgeable about his profession. He was also a person of unbounded enthusiasm for good work, complimenting it whenever he could. Reading tributes to him is a reminder of how important encouragement—and the freedom to err—are to learning.
This past semester I wandered into the newsroom of the IDS when groups of prospective IU students were being given tours. They could not help but be feel the quality and the energy in that room. Dave Adams fostered that culture of excellence every day.
Thanks, Dave.
June 4th, 2007 at 10:29 am
I am shocked and saddened by this. I last e-mailed Dave about a month back, sharing the news that I had been accepted by a graduate program — something he was partially responsible for as he had served as one of my references. We had planned on meeting up during his recent visit to NYC (late March), but scheduling proved difficult. I thought there would be other opportunities …
Dave was one of my teachers, an advisor at the IDS … but above all, I remember him as a good human being. He cared deeply about his students and he cared about me — even when he had no reason to. Our interaction was quite strained when I was an undergraduate, but I had the opportunity to see him in a much different light as he helped my friends through various crises. We reconnected after I graduated, partly because I had such tremendous respect for the things he had done on behalf of my friends.
When a friend of mine was arrested for writing bad checks, Dave bailed that person out (I won’t mention a $ figure, but it wasn’t exactly spare change — it was expensive). Dave didn’t say a word about it to anyone, he wasn’t looking to tout himself as a life saver. He did remind the person in question that they had Arbutus articles due and he would appreciate it if they were finished! It’s the least you could do after being bailed out …
Dave accompanied another friend to court (he was always supportive of his students), kept tabs on a friend who went off to war and made a point of calling him while he was at a base in the States, etc. He cared deeply about his students and he was there for them when they were in trouble.
He always wanted to know how people were doing, even as they were years removed from the Journalism School. He would ask me about the people we knew in common; he really took an interest in seeing his students’ lives evolve.
I am struck with many regrets right now … it is a terrible feeling of loss for everyone I am sure. But especially for me because I was such a jerk when he was my teacher and I wish that we could’ve gotten along better while I was at IU. It was only after I had left that we were able to become friends and I was able to extend the respect that he deserved. I’m going to miss you, Dave …
June 4th, 2007 at 11:15 am
Dave was a person who always cared — about his students, past and present, about his colleagues at IU and around the country, about the future of both high school and college media. As an educator and a defender of student free expression, he has made an impact on so many lives. Now it’s up to those of us who knew him to carry forward that legacy. We won’t let you down, Dave.
June 4th, 2007 at 2:17 pm
The Indiana High School Press Association honored David Adams with the Ingelhart “Friends of the Student Press” award in 1993, but David was a “friend of the student press’ throughout the state and the nation every year.
Recently David reached beyond his regular responsibilities to help a high school adviser and staff as they fought for the freedom to promote tolerance on the editorial page of the student newspaper. It wasn’t the first time he tried to improve a controversial situation. It was typical for David to embrace every press issue as his own.
Although the loss to scholastic journalism is monumental, David’s legacy includes the people he has inspired to work for quality journalism and the First Amendment.
We can all honor David’s contribution to scholastic journalism and student expression by continuing that work with the passion he exemplified.
Diana Hadley,
Executive Director, Indiana High School Press Association
June 4th, 2007 at 3:06 pm
One of Dave’s early stops in his career was over 25 years ago at Fort Hays State University. I am fortunate to be one of his students from that time. Dave brought out the best in so many of us. The things you have written about Dave are things we knew about him before some of you were even born.
Dave was teacher, advisor, mentor, friend. He loved great writing and loved courage in journalism. Even after he left FHSU, he still mentored me.
The last time we saw each other was two summers ago at a journalism education conference where leaders from professional and specialty journalism groups got together with top educators. I was never so proud to say that Dave Adams was my teacher from all the years before.
My friends from IU, I join with you in mourning Dave. I’ll miss him, too.
Larry Dreiling
Senior Field Editor
High Plains Journal
Fort Hays State University ‘80, ‘85
Past President: North American Agricultural Journalists
June 4th, 2007 at 3:42 pm
Student media and the First Amendment have lost a great friend and powerful advocate today. Dave co-authored a paper with me and another colleague, and his contributions were testimony to his depth of belief in a free and open press. We’ll miss you, Dave. We’ll keep the fires burning.
June 4th, 2007 at 4:37 pm
I’ve been struggling for words at Dave’s death.
It’s been a blessing to read everyone’s responses — thanks to all of you at the IDS.
Dave recruited me to journalism back in fall 1977. Stupid me, I had some math credit, and I wanted to major in history, but I had a job as assistant sports editor on the 1978 Reveille yearbook at Fort Hays State.
Thus it began. Before I graduated in 1981, I edited the book as a sophomore, edited the summer paper as a junior, and student taught in English and journalism as a senior. At our small western-Kansas university, he taught all the journalism classes. I learned a great deal in every one of them.
As I read, hear and see the responses from his current students at the Indiana Daily Student, I know he entertained, encouraged and energized them — just as he did students at Fort Hays until 1981, just as he did here at Kansas State until 1989.
They called him “Dadams.” Of course, to us, he was “Disco Dave” and “Dr. Dave.” Fortunately, that first nickname went the way of our platform shoes and polyester shirts.
That spirit of fun carried us to our CMA conventions. My first was in New Orleans, in 1977, then Houston, in 1978, and San Francisco, in 1979. For the first two, he organized a bus for a long ride from Hays — the cheapest way for ever-frugal Dave to get 25 of us there, of course. Our luggage anchored the bus. Our ice chests of refreshments carried us through a couple Plains states.
But beyond those adventures were some important lessons as we worked long hours on the yearbook and newspaper. About truth. About accuracy. About balance. About fairness.
And for me, there were many lessons of how to advise collegiate journalists. I applied those skills at FHSU from 1985-1989 and at K-State from 1989-2004.
As I faced the challenges of those jobs, Dave offered encouragement. Perhaps it was a quick conversation between sessions at a convention, or his squeal and some loud claps if my students happened to win an award. I treasured them.
And after I was reassigned, when I faced that hearing in federal district court in summer 2004, Dave was there, ready to testify if needed. He didn’t get to, even after nine hours in court. I regret that terribly — for after a session with Dave Adams, that judge would have had a much clearer understanding of the First Amendment.
I’m heartsick at this loss.
Ron Johnson
June 4th, 2007 at 6:20 pm
Dave,
I’ll bet the Internet connectivity is awesome where you are and that you won’t miss one word in the IDS, so I just want to say, thanks for everything.
Kevin Schwartz
The Daily Tar Heel
University of North Carolina
June 4th, 2007 at 7:40 pm
One of the first grad school classes I took was with Dave. It was Scholastic Journalism and Beth Moellers and I were the only grad students in Dave’s class. Beth was his longtime friend, but I had only just met him. I immediately adored him. As he taught about student press freedom and the joys of guiding journalism students, he was a whirlwind of energy and passion. He shared so much of his heart and spirit with those around him. It was clear that his “job” was merely an extension of his being — as effortless and necessary to his life as breathing.
After the class ended, our friendship remained. I will miss his sweet, joyful energy and his kindness.
As a student, I feel so fortunate to have been taught about student media by the great Dave Adams. As a teacher, I am inspired by Dave’s talent and his dedication to students.
Somewhere in America, sometime soon, a school administrator will try to unjustly censor a student publication. Those who step up to fight on behalf of student press freedom will be empowered by Dave’s legacy. And he will cheer them on from his front-row seat.
God bless you, Dave.
Lori Henson
June 4th, 2007 at 9:07 pm
I am at a loss for words. I can’t believe that Dave is gone. He was such a good man. He always had time to help you or to share a smile or a joke. Scholastic Journalism will never be the same without you around to nurture and encourage those of us trying to be more like you. You will be missed Dave. May God bless you, your family and your loved ones.
June 4th, 2007 at 9:37 pm
Dave is one of those people you instantly felt comfortable around. I definitely echo everyone else’s comments about Dave being a great mentor, teacher and friend. I think most IDS’ers can agree that the bottom floor of Ernie Pyle hall is where our love of journalism really bloomed and Dave was a huge part of that. I was very shy when I entered the IDS – and he would always go out of his way to encourage me. You always knew he cared deeply about everyone there.
He will be missed dearly. My thoughts go out to everyone back in Bloomington.
- Maura Halpern, Class of 2005.
June 5th, 2007 at 11:34 am
Before Indiana University and before K-State, Dave was educating, encouraging, and entertaining student journalists at Fort Hays State University. As a freshman, I also worked as Dave’s student assistant. Early in the morning, before most students were out of bed and definitely before most of the newspaper staffers were in the office, Dave would be preparing for his classes, his boom box blaring out the latest disco music. (You have to remember, this was the late 1970s-early 1980s.) Dave loved disco, so much so that one of his nicknames was “Disco Dave.” Dave moved on to K-State after my sophomore year, yet we still kept in touch. Whenever our paths crossed, Dave would make a point of finding out how I was and what was new in my life.
Dave was a champion of the rights of student journalists and would always go to bat for us when the administration didn’t like something we printed in the paper. Often, the content of the University Leader, the student newspaper, would get Dave in hot water with the administration, yet Dave never got upset with us. Instead, he encouraged us to do what we thought was right and never, ever, allow the administration to censor the paper.
In reading through the blog entries and the stories about Dave, many people have noted Dave’s zeal for the First Amendment. I will, indeed, remember that. What I also will remember, however, is Dave’s funny and irreverent sense of humor. No matter the situation, Dave could make me laugh.
Over the years, Dave Adams influenced the lives of thousands of people through classes, advising, workshops, and just being a friend. Thank you for your wisdom and friendship, Dave. I miss you.
Leslie Eikleberry
(FHSU ‘84)
June 5th, 2007 at 3:28 pm
Fort Hays State University Leader, Kansas State Collegian and Indiana Daily Student newspapers and Reveille, Royal Purple and Arbutus yearbooks — all have been winners of national awards.
One person who helped all these publications soar to excellence was Dave Adams — adviser, mentor, colleague, friend.
No matter the publication or the school, Dave made an impact on the people with whom he worked — students and full-time staff alike. He worked hard so we worked hard. But he loved to have fun too.
Going to national conventions once or twice a year allowed us to see cities we’d never seen before and get inspired by other nationally known journalism gurus and staffs. We loved cheering as our publications were called during award ceremonies. We hauled home numerous tropheys and plaques.
I, too, remember Disco Dave. He loved to dance and he threw great staff parties.
I first met Dave in fall 1975. I was 1976 Reveille yearbook editor and it was his first year as adviser at Fort Hays State. It was Dave and his red pen that made me the obsessive-compulsive copy editor I am today.
We kept in touch after I graduated, and in 1982 he called to see if I’d be interested in a production coordinator position for Student Publications at Kansas State. Who wouldn’t want to work for Dave? June 7, 1982 was my first day on the job — 25 years ago this week. He was a great boss — hard-working, fun and fair.
When the Journalism Education Association was looking for a national headquarters, Dave convinced the board to select K-State. He was named executive secretary, and he appointed me his administrative assistant. K-State became JEA Headquarters in the fall of 1988.
A year later he decided to take the position at Indiana University. Losing him as a boss was disappointing, but he found TWO high caliber people to take his place so the quality of the K-State publications wouldn’t erode.
Dave and I stayed in touch with Christmas letters and e-mails, and I’d see him occasionally at JEA/NSPA conventions, most recently in April. Who knew it would be the last time?
I still work for JEA — a job I enjoy and where I can help journalism teachers and advisers nationwide. A good journalism teacher can change lives. Dave certainly changed mine.
Connie (Nelson) Fulkerson
Journalism Education Association
Manhattan, Kan.
(FHSU ‘77)
June 6th, 2007 at 1:46 am
The world of student media will not be the same without Dave Adams. I met Dave over 30 years ago when he was at Fort Hays University in Kansas. Dave was my first media instructor, and I had the opportunity to work with him for a number of years while he was at FHSU, Kansas State and through CMA. To know Dave was to love him. He touched countless lives with his wisdom, his humor and his zest for life. We will miss you Dave!!
Marla Lord, former media adviser, Garden City (Kansas) Community College
June 6th, 2007 at 11:35 am
And before Hays and K-State and Indiana, there was Washburn Rural High School where Dave did his student teaching and then began his journalism teaching career with responsibility for a newspaper and a yearbook. My room was across the hall from the journalism room, and there was no way you could be across the hall from Dave and the journalism kids without being involved. Our area did not lack for excitement. As an experienced teacher I was in a position to sometimes help him through the muddy waters of the public school system. Sometimes Dave innocently muddied them on his own. It was here that he first heard an administrator say, “You are not going to publish that story.” But, of course, he did. We worked together as student council advisors and also in the teachers’ association. You must remember, these were the “unruly” days of the ’70’s, with all the unrest and protests, etc. It was difficult some days just to keep kids in class! Through all this Dave and I became close personal friends.
I have more Dave stories than any of you would care to hear. He was so much fun, so passionate about his job, and so naive in those days. Life was always kind of a surprise to Dave. Not much changed, did it? While distance separated us, I always felt he was one of my dearest friends. Reading the comments from students and colleagues has made me feel even more connected to him, but it has not filled the hole in my heart that his death has caused.
Marjorie Strouts, Retired teacher
Topeka, Kansas
June 6th, 2007 at 1:01 pm
Dave took me under his protective wing back in the fall of 1986, when I arrived at K-State and managed to get a job as a writer on the Collegian staff. I’d just moved back home to Kansas and was trying to start my life over, and I was scared to death. Over the next two years, Dave became my mentor, friend and biggest fan. He stood firm in his support of the First Amendment, and as Collegian adviser, he never tried to influence our stories but offered encouragement from the sidelines — and maybe an occasional “I told you so” after the fact. Yes, there were some bloopers – like the headline “Engine falls off” that got slapped on a story about a plane that had lost an engine – but Dave let us live and learn. When we went out on a limb and wrote about a professor with AIDS, Dave was the first to congratulate us with a hand-written note that came from the heart. When we learned about an airline ticket scam that had grounded a student in India, he supported our unorthodox method of chasing the story down, even though we ended up in a courtroom in San Deigo by the time it was finished. Dave believed the Collegian was just as good as any other daily newspaper, backing us on controversial and investigative pieces and going to bat for us time and again. And who can forget the Kedzie Kapers in Manhattan and the fun trips to journalism conferences around the country? Dave was like a mother hen, trying to keep us all in line while at the same time having fun right along with us. But as wise as he was on media issues, Dave could be naïve in other areas, and it was hilarious to watch his face turn beet red on the many occasions when he would blurt something out before thinking. As busy as Dave was, though, he always had time to listen. He shared personal stories that often helped us sort through problems of our own, and he was genuine in his concern for his students. Judging from the postings here in the past few days, that trait continued throughout his life. No, there will never be another Dave. Goodbye, my friend, and may you rest in peace.
June 6th, 2007 at 2:19 pm
I am so saddened to hear of Dave’s death. I taught next door to Dave at Washburn Rural High School for several years and found him to be highly respected by his students and colleagues. I can remember so many fun times as I ‘borrowed’ his classroom one hour of the day to teach shorthand (back in the 70’s this was an important class to take if you wanted to be a secretary). He had a great personality– and there always seemed to be something unusual or comical happening to him. Because of this, I looked forward to seeing him each day as he was such a joy to be around.
He also bought his first house from me. One day at school I mentioned that I wanted to sell my house and he immediately said he wanted to buy it, sight unseen. In less than a week I had a SOLD sign in my yard. (He did see it before he purchased.)
I will always have fond memories of our years at WRHS and all the interesting fun times we had. I know he will be sorely missed in the field of education.
June 6th, 2007 at 8:40 pm
As one of the fortunate people to have known Dave Adams not only at Fort Hays State but also K-State, I add my voice to the outpouring of grief. I was one of Dave’s students at FHSU and a member of the staffs of the Collegian and the Royal Purple at KSU. I saw Dave several years ago when I was in Indiana for an assignment, and he made a special effort to join me for lunch before I flew back to Kansas. And, of course, there were the annual Christmas newsletters, always with a hand-scrawled note to remind me that not only was Dave my teacher and mentor, he was my friend. His passing leaves a hole in many lives. My heart goes out to the IDS staffers who will miss his voice and guidance in the next few years – and my thanks to the current staff for their professionalism in covering this tragedy. My thoughts and prayers are with Jimmy, the rest of Dave’s family and the multitude of friends who already miss him.
Jean Teller
FHSU ‘77/KSU ‘87
Senior Associate Editor/Grit Magazine
Lawrence, Kansas
June 7th, 2007 at 12:01 pm
I have no doubt that Dave would be giddy — and more than a little humbled — by the incredible outpouring of love and memories not only on this blog, but in countless e-mails being shared by those who knew and loved him. I count myself as among that fortunate group.
I worked for and with Dave for two years in the mid-1980s, during my time at Kansas State University. When I met Dave at a community college journalism conference in Manhattan in the spring of 1986, I had already committed to the University of Kansas, having been told that my existing credits wouldn’t transfer to K-State. Dave said that couldn’t be true, and literally put his arm around my shoulder and walked me to the journalism dean’s office, where we sat down to look things over. By the end of the 90 minutes that followed, I knew my credits would transfer, that I was a shoo-in for a scholarship and that I would have a great shot at getting an editor’s position on the Collegian. By the time I got on the bus home that evening, I knew I was a Wildcat. That’s the kind of effect Dave had.
The two years that followed were transforming for me, thanks in large part to Dave. As so many others have said on this blog, Dave was a constant friend and supporting presence. However, he was no pushover, especially when it came to the quality of his babies, the Collegian and Royal Purple. My favorite Dave critique story came the morning after I published a headline in which my fondness for alliteration went just a little too far. The headline: “Tailgating tradition: Tried, true, terrific.” Dave’s comment: “Terrible, trite, tacky.” I still remember that vividly, almost 20 years later (and God, was he right).
Here’s the thing about Dave: Every one of us has that “little story” about how Dave did something extraordinary to help us. But the fact that he did that for so many people, over so many years, is astounding — and an incredible testament to who he was. Dave, I join the growing chorus of voices thanking you and bidding you a sweet farewell. You will be missed.
Deron Johnson
Collegian editor, fall ‘87 (KSU ‘88)
Director of PR/Rhea & Kaiser
Chicago
July 15th, 2007 at 6:29 pm
I’m speechless…
Dave was a mentor and a friend. As an IDS journalist in the late 90s, he was a breath of fresh air. While many professors and advisers sought to push a certain agenda to its students, David encouraged us to think on our own and question everything.
Because of his unyielding support, we were allowed to grow as journalists. I owe a lot to Dave.
I actually owe my career to Dave. My first editor at Reuters said it was his letter of recommendation that helped me stand out amongst the rest of the applicants. Unfortunately, I was never able to thank you for that.
Thank you for everything Dave. I will miss you….
I
July 23rd, 2007 at 8:21 am
I last talked to Dave in February, when I got a job offer that would take me out of academia, but reunite me with my spouse. He was so thrilled for me, as he always was … I just found out this morning about Dave’s death, and I am absolutely heartbroken. As a fellow ICPA board member for 4 years, I had the privelege of working with Dave. His sense of humor made every meeting fun to attend. And he was always there to listen when things were rough … I learned a lot about advising and about life from Dave, and I will miss him tremendously.
September 15th, 2007 at 3:21 pm
Dave was my faculty adviser at Fort Hays State University. I recall how he helped us all not only in an academic capacity, but also with sound counsel when we faced challenges as student journalists and even in our personal lives. I see from the comments here that he never changed much in that regard. I shall not forget him.
Que Dios les bendiga su familia en este tiempo mas difícil.
David Ernst
FHSU class of 1980
Barinas, Venezuela