*FIRST TIME ANNOUNCEMENT: If you’d like to listen to me tell this story, just click on the play button above—where the narration is done by yours truly, not AI*
I woke up so turned on.
Literally.
Because nothing else lights me up quite like being a bridge.
A bridge that takes a massive amount of pride in connecting the lives of two people from my past—both of which I share a profound history with, both of whom I care a great deal about.
The photos and videos I’d just woken up to, and was still, in real time, being sent by both friends, via WhatsApp, had my body buzzing with an international excitement.
There was also an ear-to-ear, perma-smile stamped across my face.
With my eyes merely inches from my phone screen, the best and most healthy way to start any day, I crawled out of bed.
Even though I’d been working on another story ‘til the wee hours of the night before, I knew exactly what I wanted to write and share about first instead.
But, before doing so, I wanted to do a bit of my own “showing and telling.”
I felt compelled to return the favor and ping my girlfriend, Admira (the one who was sending me videos of her dancing in real time on the dirt floors of a Cambodian wedding), I wanted to send her a photo of me doing the exact same thing, with some of those exact same people—more than a decade before.
Shit, where were those photos?
Ah, Facebook.
I thought I remembered posting one of the photos to Facebook way back when.
By design, I hadn’t been on Facebook all week. And while I specifically told myself not to get sucked into any scrolling—just get in, find the photo, and get out—that was the furthest thing from what actually happened.
Before I share the “how and why” I was so shockingly slapped in the face, I need to take you back a few years.
Back to August of 2011.
A time in my life when I was addicted to Fantasy Football.
As the upcoming NFL season was only two weeks away, the six money leagues I’d already signed up and paid for, they just weren’t enough.
I began hunting online for “Bigger Money Leagues.”
After perusing through several online chat rooms, I found a thread that was titled, “NEEDING ONE MORE FANTASY FOOTBALL ADDICT.”
Ahh, I felt seen.
This guy was certainly speaking my language—but, the buy-in was steep, $575 to be exact.
Which was double the amount of any other league buy-in I’d signed up for.
Though the amount was definitely out of my league, I private messaged the guy who had posted the thread, ya know, just to get a small, inquisitive hit.
For two whole days, until he finally got back to me, it’s ALL I could think about. See, I wasn’t lying or being facetious when I said I was addicted. That’s something I’ll need to write and share more about later.
This particular “Big Money League” was being housed and played on a platform I’d never heard of, nor knew nothing about.
That, along with the fact that the buy in was $575, I ended up messaging the commissioner, Dan, that there were just too many unknown variables (him being one of them) for me to commit and say yes.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He messaged me back.
Hmm, a straight forward and to the point stranger. I like it.
Later, that same evening, and this is something I’ll never forget—and it means even more to me now—‘Dan the stranger’ and I spent nearly 2 hours on the phone together.
The first half-hour of the conversation, Dan went balls to the wall on discussing, in detail, the league, the integrity of the the league, the guys in the league, the scoring format, and any other questions or concerns I might have had.
This guy was adamant about me being comfortable and confident in joining his league. Even going as far as offering the names and phone numbers of other players in the league, if I wanted to vet him.
The last hour+ of our conversation was eaten up by two curious strangers getting to know one another.
I’ll never forget how intrigued and fascinated Dan was with my travels.
He then went on to speak glowingly about his young son and daughter, about being in the military, about teaching US History, and that he was soon to be finishing law school to then fulfill a lifelong dream of opening his own practice.
Oh, there was one thing that almost derailed any chance of Dan and I ever being friends in the first place—and that was his God awful love and adoration for the Philadelphia Eagles.
Fourteen years later, I can still vividly remember pacing around that Dallas hotel parking lot, listening to Dan go on and on, thinking to myself, “This guy isn’t your average Fantasy Football bro. This dude has extreme depth and is highly intelligent.”
By the end of that conversation, without hesitation, I was sold on Dan the human, as well as Dan the Fantasy Football Commissioner.
While that was the one and only time Dan and I actually spoke, we often touched base throughout the NFL season, especially during Cowboy/Eagle rivalry weeks.
Dan is also someone who reached out to me with words of love and condolences after my Dad passed away in 2013–which is another little something I’ll never forget about him.
The last time Dan and I exchanged non-football pleasantries, he'd reached out several months ago because his son, Blake, was soon headed to Kenya for the first time. Dan wanted to know if I had any ‘World Traveling’ words of wisdom that he could relay back to his son.
I was thrilled to hear about Blake’s “once in a lifetime” adventure to Africa. I told Dan, if either one of them were interested, I’d be more than happy to repay the ‘words of reassurance’ phone call he’d gifted me back in 2011.
He thanked me—and he ended his message with his favorite battle cry, “Fly Eagles Fly.”
So, after opening Facebook for the first time in a week, hunting for that photo of me dancing in the dirt, somewhere in rural Cambodia, it was nice to see, at the top of my timeline, Dan’s post with multiple pictures of him and his wife smiling, both draped in neon green Eagle’s gear. It was the day before the Super Bowl, after all.
“This is all so unreal.” The first sentence popped out at me.
“Here he goes, bragging about his Eagles playing on Sunday,” I thought to myself.
But then came the aforementioned and abrupt slap to the face.
The next sentence pierced my heart and literally took my breath away.
“It is with an utterly broken heart that I share the passing of my beloved husband, Daniel..” His wife had just posted minutes before.
Shock and awe ran down my spine.
What the actual fuck?
You know how it goes when you see something like this online, especially when it involves someone so young, successful, and family oriented—it’s human fucking nature to immediately want to know and understand what happened.
To which you feverishly seek and search for answers in the comments.
Even though I’d specifically told myself I wasn’t getting on Facebook to doom scroll, that’s exactly what I ended up doing.
For more than an hour, I combed through the 400 comments on his wife, Elaine’s, post and on friends of their’s posting about Dan’s shocking passing.
And this, my friends, this is exactly why I felt so compelled to share a story with you about a complete stranger.
What started out as me looking for answers (to which there were none made public), ended with me in tears of inspiration and disbelief.
See, I joined Facebook way back in 2007–and, since that time, there have been a LOT of people in my online world who have shared about losing a loved one, myself included.
Since losing my Pops, and during the days of me still being an everyday Facebook user, I always tried to acknowledge or send warm condolences to those who lost a loved one—which is nothing new or out of the ordinary.
However, what I was able to uncover was something indeed “out of the ordinary.” And that was the hundreds upon hundreds of devastated, yet beautiful, reactions people were leaving in Dan’s honor.
Never, and I mean NEVER, have I witnessed—person after person, friend after friend, neighbor after neighbor, classmate after classmate, colleague after colleague—absolutely gush about someone in the manner in which Dan’s community was now gushing about him.
I’m not kidding you, it was almost like the hundreds of people commenting were reading from the same script that instructed them all,
“You must include the following words when describing Dan: always helping others, amazing father and husband, kind-hearted soul, thoughtful and giving, always helping others, pillar of the community, incredible human being, always helping others, shirt off of his back, biggest smile, always helping others, positive and uplifting, always helping others, amazing, amazing, amazing human being…”
The positive descriptions and adjectives went on and on and on.
In all my years on Social Media, I’ve never seen anything like it.
Of course, I feel absolutely gutted and heartbroken for Dan’s kids and loved ones.
However, for me, personally, someone who never actually met Dan, his loss is being overshadowed by the tsunami of beautiful acknowledgments that continue to pour in from his community.
It’s not for me to speculate what happened, but from what I can gather, Dan’s loss was sudden and unexpected.
No matter what happened to him, this man left an undeniable mark on the world. Over and over, people commenting on how much of a positive impact Dan made in the lives of others.
While we live in a day and age where the trend is to proudly declare, “I don’t care what anyone else thinks of me,” reading through all those comments got me thinking, despite that trend, maybe, if you’re living life the right way, maybe it ain’t such a bad thing to care what others think of you.
Dan’s loss has had me realize, and proud to admit, something. I actually do care what other people have to say about me.
And, when it’s my time to go, I can only hope that what my people have to say about me is half as loving, heartfelt, and flattering as what Dan’s people are saying about him.
Because a legacy like Dan’s is exactly the kind of legacy I'm interested in leaving behind.
One rooted in kindness, compassion, and making a positive difference in the lives of others.
What a wonderful way to live life and what a fulfilling way to be remembered.
In honor of Dan, I, as a die-hard Dallas Cowboys fan, did something this past Sunday that I will never again do for the remainder of my life—I rooted for the Philadelphia Eagles.
My friend Dan earned his wings and halo this past Friday, only to have his beloved Eagles earn their Super Bowl rings on Sunday.
It couldn’t have ended with a more Bitter Sweet Symphony—one that has an entire community in tears, singing and shouting, “Fly, Dan, Fly.”
*This piece is dedicated to Dan’s three most prized possessions—Children, Blake & Emerson Lewis, and wife, Elaine Saunders-Lewis*
I don’t know if my words will make it your way, but if they do, please know that Dan’s kids and life-partner were the ONLY things he bragged about more than his Eagles. I know all too well the void left behind by losing a rockstar of a father—my sincerest condolences are being sent to you and your entire family.
With Sympathy,
Adrian 🙏🏼
Share this post