David Sherman
David Sherman
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Age: 55
Location:
North Church Street
at NC 150
Greensboro , NC
United States
David Sherman was struck and killed by a hit and run driver on October 24th - he died instantly according to this news article the car was found the next week and this article reports that driver was charged with with felony hit and run, misdemeanor death by motor vehicle and driving while license revoked.
An Op-Ed discussing David's tragic death ran in the local paper A memorial ride on November 15th for David brought together many riders, and a facebook page Justice for David Sherman was established to follow the impending case against the driver.
Contributions to Yield to Life are being accepted in David’s name.
According to his obituary:
"David was born in Washington, D.C., he received his undergraduate and master's degrees in accounting and taxation at the University of
Tennessee. He began his working career in Nashville, Tenn., followed by
five years in Port Orange, Fla., before making Greensboro his home for
the last 19 years. He worked at Sealy, Inc. for over 10 years, rising
to the position of vice president.
During this time David
developed his passions for music, running, and cycling. Whatever he
decided to accomplish he did so with single-minded determination, such
as learning to play the violin as an adult student, training for
marathons, and most recently, discovering the sport of cycling. As much
as he enjoyed the ride, the camaraderie he felt with his fellow
cyclists was his true joy.
David's top priority in life was his family. He was a supportive father to his daughters and a committed partner to his wife"
An article from the News - Record
A new legacy for the man who loved music and life
Sunday, December 5, 2010
(Updated Monday, December 6 - 8:17 am)
By
Jeri Rowe
Staff Columnist
Accompanying Photos
Special to the News & Record
Photo Caption:
David Sherman was riding his bike along
North Church Street north of N.C. 150 on Oct. 24 when Grayson Warren
Dawson,'s SUV hit him head-on, killing him instantly.
Related Links
SUMMERFIELD — Ann Sherman still wears her wedding ring.
She says she’ll take it off when it feels “right.” But right now,
it’s not. She loves her husband and misses him for all the things they
shared, like Tennessee football, the Greensboro Symphony and their two
girls, Beth and Becky.
She’ll run into people who don’t know her, and they’ll see her ring and ask, “What’s your husband do?”
“He died last year,” she responds.
That’s usually all they ask, and that’s usually all she says.
But sometimes, she gives them a short explanation of her grief.
She’ll tell them about the tragedy that has forced her to redefine her
life and think about who she is and who she wants to be.
It’s 14 words. But it’s 14 words she’ll always hate to say.
“I don’t know if you’ve heard,” she tells them, “but he was the cyclist who was killed.”
Her husband was David. David Sherman.
We all know what happened. We saw the headlines; we heard the news.
David was killed by a hit-and-run driver as the sun set on a Saturday
afternoon a week before Halloween 2009.
David was 55. He was found 11 steps from North Church Street
extension near the intersection of N.C. 150. He was killed riding his
bike.
Ann remembers.
It was nearly 6 p.m. on Oct. 24. She was watching the Tennessee
Volunteers, the alma mater that she and her husband shared, play the
Alabama Crimson Tide in football.
She knew he wanted to watch the game between two rivals as much as
she did. And they always watched Tennessee football together because it
reminded them of their college days three decades ago.
“Gosh, why isn’t he home?” she kept asking herself.
A few hours later, she found out. State troopers told her, with a
knock on their front door. She soon found out the worst. She became a
widow and her husband became forever linked to something horrible that
was incredibly public.
She hated it. She felt invaded. Ann, a longtime teacher at
Greensboro’s New Garden Friends School, always valued her and her
family’s privacy. And now, 14 months after his death, she wanted to
honor her husband’s memory beyond his bike.
She felt her husband was more than just the name of Guilford County’s
seventh bike fatality since 1997. She wanted his memory to be attached
to something more enriching, more him.
For her, the answer came easy. All she had to do was remember a
conversation they had in a darkened auditorium when they went to see the
Greensboro Symphony perform.
“One day,” David told his wife. “I want to have an endowed chair.”
He does, thanks to Ann and their two daughters. Last week, the
symphony announced the Shermans’ $40,000 gift will create an endowed
chair in David’s name.
That gift has been added to the symphony’s endowment of nearly $4
million. The interest from that account is used to pay the musicians and
cover operating expenses.
So, in his own way, David will keep the symphony going. From now on,
you’ll find his name in any symphony program, on a page with the names
attached to the 60 other endowed chairs.
David, Ann says, would like that. He was, as she says, a “symphony groupie.”
He liked nothing better than meeting a guest soloist or having a
conversation with director Dmitry Sitkovetsky. He even bought the music
the symphony was to perform beforehand, so he could get familiar with it
before he and Ann sat in their seats.
David loved classical music. He loved rock music, particularly Bob
Dylan. But really, David loved playing the violin. He took it with him
everywhere.
On business trips, he’d stow it away in the overhead compartment,
keeping it near him because he didn’t want to lose it. He knew he had to
practice wherever he went.
And he practiced all the time, almost every day. After work, he’d
steal up 14 steps, to his room just beyond the kitchen to watch TV and
practice his violin for at least two hours every night.
Sometimes, he’d run down and get Ann to listen. Or he’d get her to
fetch her flute so they could play together. Other times, he’d just
listen to his own tapes of his music lessons. He wanted to get better.
He wanted to play with the Greensboro Philharmonia, and he wanted to
master the musical hurdle of any violinist: Play the “Concerto for Two
Violins in D Minor” by J.S. Bach. In music shorthand, it’s known as the
Bach Double.
Yet David didn’t start playing the violin until he was 48. His
teacher? One of Ann’s good friends, Jeannie Sykes, the music teacher at
New Garden Friends School and a violinist with the Greensboro Symphony.
The suggestion came up over dinner with both families seven years
ago. Since then, he had frequent lessons on a Saturday or Sunday for
seven years. His payment: Baby-sitting Anna, the young daughter of
Jeannie and Wiley Sykes.
David called it his “Anna time.”
Together, David and Anna played games, rode bikes, created pottery and practiced. Anna got better. And David did, too.
He’d still get nervous at his recitals. But it wasn’t because he was
surrounded by other students at least 30 years his junior. It was
because of the music. He wanted it to be perfect. David never did
anything halfway.
Before a recital, his hands would shake so much that Ann would often have to tell him, “Don’t worry about it. You’ll do fine.”
He did. In his professional life, he knew how to navigate the
complicated terrain of tax law as vice president for Sealy Inc. In his
personal life, he knew how to make a violin sing.
Listen to his tapes. You can hear it. It’s the beautiful moan of his
instrument and the comfortable instruction from Sykes, just two people
in tune with trying to find a tune.
That’s what Ann likes to remember. And that’s what she never wants to forget.
“That whole thing was tragic and awful, and it wasn’t an accident,
and it could’ve been prevented,” she says. “But this (endowed chair) is
what I want him to be remembered for. His passion for living. This is
who he was. This will be his memory.”
Ann met David when she was 18. In a month, she’ll turn 50. She
doesn’t watch Tennessee football anymore. She watches the New York
Yankees. She doesn’t ride her bike on the road anymore. She sticks to
the trails.
Meanwhile, she’s taken a sabbatical from New Garden Friends, a school
where she’s taught for 14 years. She needs time to think, to reflect on
what to do next.
She’ll do that wearing her wedding ring.
“You know, my whole life was tied to him,” she says. “He had his
music. I had a passion for teaching. We had a place in Boone, and we
were trying to define our next phase of life without kids, and
Greensboro was a part of that.
“Now, I have to figure out who I am,” she says. “At first, I kept
thinking, 'Why keep going?’ It’s not suicidal, but you define yourself
with the people you love. And now, I have to redefine who I am and ask,
'What do I do now?’”
A few weeks ago, it was to see Anna Sykes and her mom perform at
Greensboro’s Holy Trinity Episcopal Church. Ann sat in a folding chair,
in the second row, her hands knit together in her lap. When Anna and her
mom started to play, a chill raced up Ann’s back.
Anna, a fifth-grader at New Garden Friends, was playing the Bach Double. And it was perfect.
Ann is not especially religious, but right there, in that fellowship
hall at Holy Trinity, she says she felt the presence of her husband, the
Volunteers fan, the cyclist, the violinist, her friend.
“I miss David,” Anna told Ann after the performance. “I wish he could’ve been here.”
Maybe, he was, Ann thought. Maybe, he was.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Age: 55
Location:
North Church Street
at NC 150
Greensboro , NC
United States
David Sherman was struck and killed by a hit and run driver on October 24th - he died instantly according to this news article the car was found the next week and this article reports that driver was charged with with felony hit and run, misdemeanor death by motor vehicle and driving while license revoked.
An Op-Ed discussing David's tragic death ran in the local paper A memorial ride on November 15th for David brought together many riders, and a facebook page Justice for David Sherman was established to follow the impending case against the driver.
Contributions to Yield to Life are being accepted in David’s name.
According to his obituary:
"David was born in Washington, D.C., he received his undergraduate and master's degrees in accounting and taxation at the University of
Tennessee. He began his working career in Nashville, Tenn., followed by
five years in Port Orange, Fla., before making Greensboro his home for
the last 19 years. He worked at Sealy, Inc. for over 10 years, rising
to the position of vice president.
During this time David
developed his passions for music, running, and cycling. Whatever he
decided to accomplish he did so with single-minded determination, such
as learning to play the violin as an adult student, training for
marathons, and most recently, discovering the sport of cycling. As much
as he enjoyed the ride, the camaraderie he felt with his fellow
cyclists was his true joy.
David's top priority in life was his family. He was a supportive father to his daughters and a committed partner to his wife"
An article from the News - Record
A new legacy for the man who loved music and life
Sunday, December 5, 2010
(Updated Monday, December 6 - 8:17 am)
By
Jeri Rowe
Staff Columnist
Accompanying Photos
Special to the News & Record
Photo Caption:
David Sherman was riding his bike along
North Church Street north of N.C. 150 on Oct. 24 when Grayson Warren
Dawson,'s SUV hit him head-on, killing him instantly.
Related Links
SUMMERFIELD — Ann Sherman still wears her wedding ring.
She says she’ll take it off when it feels “right.” But right now,
it’s not. She loves her husband and misses him for all the things they
shared, like Tennessee football, the Greensboro Symphony and their two
girls, Beth and Becky.
She’ll run into people who don’t know her, and they’ll see her ring and ask, “What’s your husband do?”
“He died last year,” she responds.
That’s usually all they ask, and that’s usually all she says.
But sometimes, she gives them a short explanation of her grief.
She’ll tell them about the tragedy that has forced her to redefine her
life and think about who she is and who she wants to be.
It’s 14 words. But it’s 14 words she’ll always hate to say.
“I don’t know if you’ve heard,” she tells them, “but he was the cyclist who was killed.”
Her husband was David. David Sherman.
We all know what happened. We saw the headlines; we heard the news.
David was killed by a hit-and-run driver as the sun set on a Saturday
afternoon a week before Halloween 2009.
David was 55. He was found 11 steps from North Church Street
extension near the intersection of N.C. 150. He was killed riding his
bike.
Ann remembers.
It was nearly 6 p.m. on Oct. 24. She was watching the Tennessee
Volunteers, the alma mater that she and her husband shared, play the
Alabama Crimson Tide in football.
She knew he wanted to watch the game between two rivals as much as
she did. And they always watched Tennessee football together because it
reminded them of their college days three decades ago.
“Gosh, why isn’t he home?” she kept asking herself.
A few hours later, she found out. State troopers told her, with a
knock on their front door. She soon found out the worst. She became a
widow and her husband became forever linked to something horrible that
was incredibly public.
She hated it. She felt invaded. Ann, a longtime teacher at
Greensboro’s New Garden Friends School, always valued her and her
family’s privacy. And now, 14 months after his death, she wanted to
honor her husband’s memory beyond his bike.
She felt her husband was more than just the name of Guilford County’s
seventh bike fatality since 1997. She wanted his memory to be attached
to something more enriching, more him.
For her, the answer came easy. All she had to do was remember a
conversation they had in a darkened auditorium when they went to see the
Greensboro Symphony perform.
“One day,” David told his wife. “I want to have an endowed chair.”
He does, thanks to Ann and their two daughters. Last week, the
symphony announced the Shermans’ $40,000 gift will create an endowed
chair in David’s name.
That gift has been added to the symphony’s endowment of nearly $4
million. The interest from that account is used to pay the musicians and
cover operating expenses.
So, in his own way, David will keep the symphony going. From now on,
you’ll find his name in any symphony program, on a page with the names
attached to the 60 other endowed chairs.
David, Ann says, would like that. He was, as she says, a “symphony groupie.”
He liked nothing better than meeting a guest soloist or having a
conversation with director Dmitry Sitkovetsky. He even bought the music
the symphony was to perform beforehand, so he could get familiar with it
before he and Ann sat in their seats.
David loved classical music. He loved rock music, particularly Bob
Dylan. But really, David loved playing the violin. He took it with him
everywhere.
On business trips, he’d stow it away in the overhead compartment,
keeping it near him because he didn’t want to lose it. He knew he had to
practice wherever he went.
And he practiced all the time, almost every day. After work, he’d
steal up 14 steps, to his room just beyond the kitchen to watch TV and
practice his violin for at least two hours every night.
Sometimes, he’d run down and get Ann to listen. Or he’d get her to
fetch her flute so they could play together. Other times, he’d just
listen to his own tapes of his music lessons. He wanted to get better.
He wanted to play with the Greensboro Philharmonia, and he wanted to
master the musical hurdle of any violinist: Play the “Concerto for Two
Violins in D Minor” by J.S. Bach. In music shorthand, it’s known as the
Bach Double.
Yet David didn’t start playing the violin until he was 48. His
teacher? One of Ann’s good friends, Jeannie Sykes, the music teacher at
New Garden Friends School and a violinist with the Greensboro Symphony.
The suggestion came up over dinner with both families seven years
ago. Since then, he had frequent lessons on a Saturday or Sunday for
seven years. His payment: Baby-sitting Anna, the young daughter of
Jeannie and Wiley Sykes.
David called it his “Anna time.”
Together, David and Anna played games, rode bikes, created pottery and practiced. Anna got better. And David did, too.
He’d still get nervous at his recitals. But it wasn’t because he was
surrounded by other students at least 30 years his junior. It was
because of the music. He wanted it to be perfect. David never did
anything halfway.
Before a recital, his hands would shake so much that Ann would often have to tell him, “Don’t worry about it. You’ll do fine.”
He did. In his professional life, he knew how to navigate the
complicated terrain of tax law as vice president for Sealy Inc. In his
personal life, he knew how to make a violin sing.
Listen to his tapes. You can hear it. It’s the beautiful moan of his
instrument and the comfortable instruction from Sykes, just two people
in tune with trying to find a tune.
That’s what Ann likes to remember. And that’s what she never wants to forget.
“That whole thing was tragic and awful, and it wasn’t an accident,
and it could’ve been prevented,” she says. “But this (endowed chair) is
what I want him to be remembered for. His passion for living. This is
who he was. This will be his memory.”
Ann met David when she was 18. In a month, she’ll turn 50. She
doesn’t watch Tennessee football anymore. She watches the New York
Yankees. She doesn’t ride her bike on the road anymore. She sticks to
the trails.
Meanwhile, she’s taken a sabbatical from New Garden Friends, a school
where she’s taught for 14 years. She needs time to think, to reflect on
what to do next.
She’ll do that wearing her wedding ring.
“You know, my whole life was tied to him,” she says. “He had his
music. I had a passion for teaching. We had a place in Boone, and we
were trying to define our next phase of life without kids, and
Greensboro was a part of that.
“Now, I have to figure out who I am,” she says. “At first, I kept
thinking, 'Why keep going?’ It’s not suicidal, but you define yourself
with the people you love. And now, I have to redefine who I am and ask,
'What do I do now?’”
A few weeks ago, it was to see Anna Sykes and her mom perform at
Greensboro’s Holy Trinity Episcopal Church. Ann sat in a folding chair,
in the second row, her hands knit together in her lap. When Anna and her
mom started to play, a chill raced up Ann’s back.
Anna, a fifth-grader at New Garden Friends, was playing the Bach Double. And it was perfect.
Ann is not especially religious, but right there, in that fellowship
hall at Holy Trinity, she says she felt the presence of her husband, the
Volunteers fan, the cyclist, the violinist, her friend.
“I miss David,” Anna told Ann after the performance. “I wish he could’ve been here.”
Maybe, he was, Ann thought. Maybe, he was.