The first rich media meeting I ever attended was with David. It was 2007, and I was working for an in-house creative agency at the Discovery Channel in Washington D.C. He came into our offices to pitch EyeWonder’s services, and he immediately felt like part of our team – in his 20s, working in advertising, and anxious to get clients to embrace digital media. I think he might’ve been a little star struck with our offices and possibly smitten with one of the Art Directors I worked with – the lovely Alison Medland.
His energy and enthusiasm won our account, but his accountability converted one campaign into all of Discovery’s rich media business. Over the course of five years and billions of impressions, we did a ton of work together. It wasn’t always easy, and we suffered together through surprise media buys, tight timelines, and last-minute edits. David and his team at EyeWonder always delivered, and they helped turn that suffering into big wins. Throughout it all, he always looked out for our needs first, always pushed his team to go the extra mile, and he always picked up the phone when I called. He was never the kind of salesman who only cared about closing a deal and disappeared once things got messy. David was always present with us – from the beginning of a campaign until the end, through the tough conversations and celebratory drinks and dinners alike.
David and I worked together for years, and we formed a close friendship. He’d travel to D.C. on occasion, and I’d make it up to New York a few times a year for partner agency check-ins and conferences. We were both short guys in a tall world, both at starting points in our careers in advertising, both hungry for success. I even stayed at his apartment one fall when I was in New York for a rugby game. He had a wedding to go to in Connecticut and insisted that I stay there since his place would be empty otherwise. That was the last time that I saw him.
Looking back, I see that David chose to do business a certain way. No, that’s not right exactly. Building a real relationship with a client based on honesty and integrity just came very naturally to him. It wasn’t a learned skill or a decided effort. He honestly cared about a client’s success, and those of us who did business with him felt that. After being in advertising for going on seven years now, I can say that that mode of professionalism isn’t the norm. We live in a world of corporate allegiances, with a constant ebb and flow of professional gain. His way was the more difficult path, but it can be contagious. His dedication made me more dedicated, and I saw that spread to other colleagues.
A number of us from those days are still in touch. Erin Quist is a now a VP of Publisher Sales at MediaMind, Mike Molnar is a Managing Partner at Glow Interactive, Molly Barbour is a Marketing Director at WeLocalize, and Laura Megali is now a Sales Manager at MediaMind – the list of names and promotions goes on and on. Many of us have grown and moved on in different capacities, but I can still see the imprint from those early days of rich media within us. It’s good to see that many of us are still doing business the same way – with real relationships, accountability, and drinks at the end of a long day. We’re growing in the industry together, and I’m so sad that David’s not here to grow with us.
[Tim, I’ve read many of these blog posts over the past year and a half. I understand it as an exercise in addressing grief and a cathartic release of emotion, and I’m so thankful that you’ve authored it. As a brother, I’ve felt your pain from thousands of miles away, and I cannot begin to compare your grief to mine. But I feel like it’s important to add to your voice here because David touched so many lives while he worked at EyeWonder. Our professional world makes up such a significant part of our lives, too much sometimes, and I just wanted you to know what a positive force David was and is to those of us who worked with him.]Writing this down, I’m equal parts mad and disappointed that David’s not here to see everyone’s growth, and I’m flat out angry that I can’t see his success and celebrate it. His name still comes up in calls. It happened early this week, and like a punch to the stomach, that breathless emptiness was there again. And although I couldn’t see it, I’m sure that there was a similar quiet sigh and headshake at the other end of the line as we both thought about David and remembered that he’s gone.
