CREDOS:For our buddy — IMike HayesMike Hayes

During my junior year in college, I ran myself ragged. I took a full load of classes, ran the sports department of our college radio station, worked part time at an internship, and attempted to have some kind of social life. I was active in our campus ministries group as well, though that often took a back seat to all the other things I had going on in my life.

I had two roommates that year, Scott and Dave. Scott was a giant, about 6 foot 4 and 200 pounds of solid muscle. He played rugby and spent lots of time at his girlfriend’s. Dave was the polar opposite. About 5’7” and maybe 100 pounds, Dave was plagued by diabetes and a heart condition. He had to closely monitor his diet, and he added about six or seven pills to his daily regimen of food as well. Dave never complained about his lot in life; in fact, he was a stand-up comic. The times I spent with him were sheer joy.

I was oblivious to most of my roommates’ day-to-day activities. I was often on the road with different sports teams, “calling” the action for the radio broadcasts back to our school’s fans. The year flew by as I popped a steady diet of Tums to keep up with the stress of job and schoolwork. My wake-up call came the next year. I had moved into a new residence hall with other friends.

It was in my new suite that I got the call from Dave’s new roommate, Joonmo. Dave was headed to the hospital. “Something with his heart.” It didn’t look good.” —