I grew up with Dave. He loved blowing things up, shooting guns, jumping out of planes, and anything else that could somehow get you in trouble. When he decided to leave school and join the Navy for the sole purpose of becoming a SEAL, I was less than encouraging based his odds of accomplishing that goal. We were competitive and he proved me wrong, for which I couldn’t have been happier. He achieved his life dream and constantly reminded me that he couldn’t believe he was getting paid to blow things up. After serving as a SEAL for 9 years, he was killed in a base-jumping accident three years ago today. He was one of my closest friends, and the three years that have gone by have done nothing to change how shitty this day is every year.