My brother, David Byron Tate, was born 58 years ago today to our mother, Rosa, and father, Glenn Tate, in Los Angeles. Unfortunately, David passed away on April 16, 2023, in Bean Station, Tennessee, and did not live to celebrate his 58th birthday.
I am writing this post to remember and honor him. The format of this post is more formal, similar to a standard obituary, as it is too difficult for me to write from a more personal point of view at this time.
David was born on September 13, 1965, in a small pink house located in Southern California. Our grandmother, Carol, assisted in his delivery.
David was a creative and talented artist and woodworker. His love of drawing began in elementary school, and he later took up charcoal, pastels, and oil painting. As a young adult, he joined the California Conservation Corps and learned firefighting skills. Later, David worked in the construction business and oversaw large projects such as building a school. He was known for his finishing work involving intricate decorative wood detailing.
David loved the outdoors, fishing, and reading. His longtime partner, Jean Kaufman, said the University of Tennessee Library was one of his favorite places. David also loved the beach, especially Guadalupe Beach in California, where he lived for a time. Jean said David loved to dive into the cold ocean water.
Jean remembers some favorite moments with David: “Walking on Guadalupe Beach, way down to the left, we found some caves; walking on the dunes, seeing an eagle flying above us. Simple things. Many good days on Guadalupe Beach…”
David, the uncle of four and grand-uncle to two, was an adventurer who loved to explore new places and travel. After our family moved to Santa Cruz mountains in the late 70s, David and I explored the area together. As adults, we took trips together, such as driving to Ensenada, Mexico, with his young nephew and niece (my children) to get tacos. David enjoyed music, and in our young adult years, we would go to San Francisco to dance in the clubs there.
I have a vivid memory of a photo of David as a toddler. His amber-brown eyes sparkled above his chubby, freckled cheeks. He shyly looked up at the camera with a grin. As he grew up and became an adult, he always gave that same look whenever he found something amusing. A sense of humor was something that we both shared, and it helped us get through many tough situations.
David is survived by his long-time partner Jean, our mother Rosa, brother Marc, myself, his nephews Dylan and Miles, nieces Austen and Holly, grandnephews Masa and Miloh, and family members Sylvia and Joseph.
A memorial service will take place on a date to be determined in California.
May you rest in peace, David.