11, 22, 33, 44, 55, 66, 77, 88, 99… in Numerology, these numbers are called “Master Numbers.” Thirty-three, in particular, is very interesting because it is the only number in the series that is also the total of the two previous master numbers: 11 + 22 = 33.
Today, David would have been thirty-three years old.
I woke up this morning with a buzzing sensation in my chest. As I came out of REM, I realized it was my phone in the breast pocket of my… tuxedo, which apparently I was still wearing, along with my scarf and topcoat. Perhaps I should rewind a bit the turn of the events that led to my waking up in formal outerwear.
Ed Wise was behind the podium, closing the ceremonies of the 212 Gala. A huge picture of David was projected on the screen behind him, while he recalled his experiences of how he had met David. In the audience was a veritable “who’s who” in digital media, and I could see nods of remembrance of signature things David would do as Ed poetically recited them.
A week or so earlier, I received an e-mail from Ed and Cal. They told me they were going to recognize David’s contributions to the industry and donate part of the night’s proceeds to the Life Is Priceless Foundation. For a week, I had prepared and re-prepared the words I would say when I walked onto stage to accept the donation.
“Breath,” I told myself. “Ignore that lump in your throat, repeat the words you had practiced for the last ten days.” I walked up to the podium, and as I gazed out across the crowd, I was—for one of the very few times in my life—speechless. If you know me, you would be hard-pressed to find me at a lack of words. What was probably seconds was, in my mind, hours. At that moment, I could not be more in awe or respect of the kindness my industry continually demonstrates for our colleagues and peers. I took a moment to look at each and every one of you. At one point in time, the faces in this room were of a competitor, a potential client, a vendor. What I saw now were the faces of friends, who for over ten years now have surpassed my every expectation. In the blink of an eye, I recalled the first 212 event in which my current business partner met his now-wife. I recalled the first boat cruise I took David on and how proud I was to have him with me in the “family business.” I recalled weddings and engagement parties, ski trips, and moments shared that are as intimate as those you would share with a spouse.
As I gazed across this room, I saw another extension of my family who, each day, misses David in some way and shares in my loss. Who wonder just as I do, “What else could we have done to try to have preserved his life?”
Had the words superseded the feelings at that moment, I would have said this:
Tonight we celebrate ten years of 212, an organization that has been replicated across the entire country for media professionals to come together and collaboratively drive our industry forward. And while it has been copied across many zip codes, 212 was the first. The first organization to recognize that we all have a shared stake and opportunity to define how our industry grows. We as a whole get to be the Master and Commander of how digital interactive media is defined and will be defined in years to come. In looking at this audience, we recognize the pioneers who paved the way and introduce the people who will carry the torch forward and blaze new trails that we could not have imagined would exist when the organization was founded in 2003.
When David joined me in digital media, I could not have anticipated the impact he would have on our community. I remember watching, as an older brother does, his little brother transform from a kid trying to understand CTR and CPMs and figuring out ways to differentiate his wares from the next guys, to this advertising power house whose knowledge of DSPs and RM solutions far exceeded my capacity of understanding. There was one day specifically where I realized a changing-of-the-guard was happening: David was so naturally gifted at his art that I could only hope to hold on to his coattails and enjoy the ride. And what a ride it was.
I only wish he were here to see the respect and admiration he earned from his peers, his colleagues, his friends. Tonight, I am humbled yet again for your recognition of his contributions to our industry in his very short life.
I also want to personally thank each and every one of you for your continued support in my endeavors to shine more light where there is only darkness. Depression and suicide are not easy topics of discussion. When I started the Foundation, I thought to myself, “What is this going to do to my career?” I spent a lot of time on that one very big question. We are in the business of image; we are in the business of influencing people’s purchase habits. How we say, and how we show make or break a brand. What was this going to do to my brand? I look out across this room now and am, more now than ever before, so positively sure that starting the Life is Priceless Foundation was the only option there really was.
Thank you…
That’s what I would have said had I not looked out across the room and saw your faces, had I not seen a piece of David in each and every one of you. Had the lump not built in my throat, had my voice not wavered, and had not the pride that I had in all of you for recognizing how important he was to us all overwhelmed me and rendered me nearly speechless. At that moment, I don’t think we needed words—we felt. And if pictures are a thousand words, then feelings are a million pictures.
Today would have been David’s thirty-third birthday. A master number. How much he accomplished in so little time.
I cannot thank the members of 212 enough for inspiring me yet again to continue to write and to speak and to be the voice for those who do not have one.
Last night was one of those nights you never want to end, and so we braved the cold, and old friends talked until the wee hours of the morning, until it was so late that the only energy I had left I used on tying my shoes and placing them beside my bed. And that is the story of how I woke up in my tuxedo this morning…
