Welcome to the website which commemorates David Sawi. Thank you for taking the time to join us in remembering him.
Beth's eulogy for David is below as you scroll down.
To see the video made from photos of David:
Go to the tab labeled Gallery Click on Video (The background music is by Theresa Sawi.)
If you'd like to add a photo, you can post it after going to the tab labeled Gallery and click on Photos.
If you'd like to add comments or anecdotes, go either to the section below Beth's eulogy or to the tab marked
Stories.
Some people have asked if they can make a donation in David's honor. The organizations closest to his heart were the
Freight & Salvage, a musical venue that supports traditional music, and
Berkeley Community Scholars, an organization that provides financial assistance and mentoring to Berkeley public high school students so they can attend four-year universities.
Feel free to share this website with others who knew David. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Remembering DavidDavid should have lived to see his 73rd birthday, and many more. As his wife, I can swear that he took his meds, kept his weight down, and regularly walked the golf course and/or our dog. His life was rich with good friends and a loving family, especially Theresa, Maia, and me. But on August 23 a random clot stopped the blood from going to his heart and it killed him. The good news: he was at home and it was very quick. It was also way too soon.
David grew up in Santa Cruz and Aptos, surfed, had girlfriends, and loved both the shimmering summers and the coastal storms of winter. After high school, he served three reluctant years in the Navy, then went to Cabrillo Community College followed by UC Santa Cruz where he earned a degree in Psychology. Next was an MSW from UC Berkeley. After that he worked as a youth counselor, then back to school for an MBA from Stanford. That degree led to a twenty-year career at Kaiser.
We met at Stanford. We had lockers across the hall from each other. One day I had an interview so wore business clothes to classes. "You look nice in a suit," David said, never lavish with his praise. We had only two dates when we lived in the same zip code. Then I moved to New York City and didn't hear from him. Nine months later he called to say he wanted to visit New York and needed a place to crash. During this visit, we talked about Carlos Castaneda and the subtleties of power. We fell in love. I moved back to California. We got married. That marriage gave us two brainy and beautiful daughters and it gave me a lifetime of poignant memories.
David took full advantage of the years that he had. He was inspired by Chianti country after our family spent a year in Florence so he retired from Kaiser to start a vineyard. We bought land in Sonoma. He took viticulture classes at Napa Valley Community College and gleaned all he could from wine country experts. He planted his vineyard, found a talented wine maker, and together they created some delicious bottles of Syrah.
David was an avid learner. I was always so proud--he was the best adult learner that any of us will ever know. While in Italy, he learned Italian. Back in the States, in addition to viticulture he learned to sail. He sailed San Francisco Bay, the West Coast, Mexico, the Caribbean, and Tahiti. He was also a diligent guitar student. Every week, through almost 40 years of marriage, he would spend hours practicing. He had an unflagging commitment to getting better at his craft.
David studied Spanish, photography, and birdwatching. He took classes about films, literature, and the biology of the brain. Thanks to cooking classes and lots of experimentation, he became a great cook. He cooked the last dinner we had together: Egyptian chicken, one of his specialties. The leftovers are in a plastic box in our freezer. I don't know if I will ever eat them.
In 2008, approaching the age of 60, David discovered golf. Was he a happy man! With golf he could apply his athletic skills and his prodigious talent for analysis. He could travel for golf. He could take lessons and workshops. He could play in tournaments with other "seniors" and drink and eat and dissect every stroke on every hole. Early morning games were his favorite, whether he was playing alone, with friends, or, while on the course at Sea Ranch, with our dog walking beside him.
David is one of the few people who created a travel bucket list
and checked every box. We traveled as a family, as a couple, and with friends. When he really wanted to go somewhere and I wouldn't go along, he'd go on his own. He went to Mexico for Spanish classes. He rode a train across Canada. He explored Cuba twice, once on his own and because he loved it so, a second time to share it with me and my sister. We took the girls to see the wildlife in Tanzania, Alaska, the Arctic, and the Galapagos. He went to Scotland to golf with a buddy. We toured Egypt and Peru for the ancient monuments. We traveled throughout Europe from the Dalmatian Coast to Norway, from the Iberian Peninsula to Berlin. We took a cruise to the Antarctic and saw tens of thousands of penguins. We visited a cheetah refuge in Namibia. We went to Russia because it was Russia, China to visit Theresa, and Japan because it was on the way to China. We went to all three Legolands.
David wasn't perfect; no one is. Sometimes his humor was too caustic; sometimes his temper was too short. He kept his compassionate feelings close, perhaps most with those dearest to his heart. He could be a curmudgeon. But despite all that, he was my sweetie. I want to remember all of him.
Many people will miss David: his intelligence, his wit, his generosity. There are the folks at the Freight & Salvage where he devoted countless hours as a volunteer and enthusiastic supporter. There are the members and staff of the Sequoyah Country Club where he developed and nurtured wonderful friendships. And there are many other friends and colleagues he met along the way. He leaves a family who loved him: his sister Liz Sawi; his sister-in-law Mary Sawi; another sister-in-law Mary Gibson-Glass. He leaves his half-brothers Rob Oliveros, Rick Oliveros, Ernie Oliveros, and Gary Oliveros; his half-sister Evelyn Reyes, his step-mother Nieves Sawi, and many nieces and nephews. And he leaves his closest family, his beloved daughters Maia and Theresa, and me. We will all miss him. He died too soon.