Working Life

Remembering Dave

By Masako Yamada

David Ryan was a brilliant young physicist and athlete. A native of England, he was a quiet and humble man with a wicked sense of humor. Only a few years older than me, he graduated from Oxford University with a top first in physics, and quickly established his reputation, leading projects and presenting papers at conferences.

On June 29, David was killed as he cycled down a local road by a speeding teenager. I cannot imagine the grief his parents and brother in England must have felt when they finally heard.

Dave was a colleague and neighbor. I sometimes saw him pushing his bicycle into our apartment complex. The last time I saw him, he was driving his car out of the apartment lot. I learned later that he was an avid outdoorsman who loved to hike, ski, run and, most of all, cycle.

This weekend, his friends organized a charity ride following the route he had taken on his last ride, including the memorial site where he had been hit by the car. There were three goals: one, to raise public awareness of road safety; two, to collect money for a scholarship in Dave's name; and three, to honor him during what would have been his 33rd birthday.

It's not enough to have a kind heart to organize a charity event; his friends worked tirelessly to organize it. But in the end, the ride went perfectly. The weather was beautiful. There were over 250 participants and no injuries. Many newspapers and TV stations covered the ride. Entire families participated, including children as young as three or four on tandem bikes, and riders in their 60s or 70s.

As soon as I left the starting line, I realized that even though this was a "family" event, it was going to be tough. Once, my bike tipped over and I hit another rider. At that point, I decided to take things at my own pace. Whenever I found myself on a hill, I got off my bike and pushed it.

親友たちが作った追悼のウェブサイト(http://www.davidtryan.com)

Pretty soon, everybody had passed me. I recalled that ever since I was a child, I almost always came last in races, but I didn't feel embarrassed: I knew this was a ride, not a race, to honor Dave. He inspired me to participate. I enjoyed myself.

Near the half-way point, I was pushing my bike up a hill when I heard my tire go PSSSSSSST!!! It went flat in a few seconds. A rescue van quickly came to my aid. The volunteers on the van pulled my bike on board and drove me back. In the van, we noticed some people taking another lap around the 29-mile (46.4-kilometer) course! I was told that some might even be taking a third lap to complete a century (100-mile or 160-kilometer) ride.

As I watched the participants return to the starting point, I realized that I was not last when I blew my tire: I was second-last, but the last guy had been towing his two children ...

Actually, my friend Robert returned long after most of the volunteers had left, but it's hard to rate his unique ride. First, he was so busy taking photos he left the starting line last. Second, he took a counter-clockwise route, instead of the official clockwise route, so he could take better pictures of the cyclists. Third, he made a detour for juice and doughnuts at an orchard along the way. Finally, he stopped at a garage sale and browsed the wares.

That evening, I joined the volunteers for dinner. We gathered around the TV to watch the local news coverage of the ride, and spent several hours chatting and looking through a scrapbook filled with memories of Dave. At times, emotions erupted and tempers flared as we discussed his senseless death, but what I felt the most, really, is the love of his friends.

Shukan ST: Nov. 5, 2004

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