We here at A Reading Life have lost one of our own. Our friend and colleague David White passed away unexpectedly September 20th. I’m having a difficult time coping with the fact that he is really, truly gone. In trying to process my grief I’m going back through and reading all his blog posts and picturing his voice reading the words.

Our memorial to David outside the Main Library Circulation Office, where he worked, along with some of his favorite books and music.
As you may have been able to tell from David’s posts here, he really loved the cult classics. He was big into what I call cheesy B movies, but also just into films in general. Over the years he picked up a lot of information and trivia about these and other topics, and was always ready, willing, and able to share them with the likeminded people he met.
I met David 10 years ago when I moved to Washington State from Illinois. Not surprisingly, one of the first things I did was get a library card. Guess who issued my library card? David. David was also the person who updated my account when I got married and changed my last name. His eyes would light up when I’d check out the few MST3K or Red Dwarf DVDs the library had back then. He recognized a fellow fan in me. In later years David came to understand how scatterbrained I can be. He started going out of his way to remind me when a new MST3K boxed set was going to be released so I would be sure not to miss it. David was one of the few library employees I interacted with until I started working here.
Calm and friendly, David wasn’t the type to throw on a fake smile and greet you in such a way that might make you uncomfortable. He always asked, “How can I help you?” like he really meant it. And he did. David would listen with a sympathetic ear if you had a tale of misfortune to relate. It didn’t matter if you were a library patron he’d just met or someone he’d worked with for 25 years. David had empathy in spades.
He was also so damn funny! David had a wicked sense of humor, and just hearing the distant sound of his laughter somewhere in the massive downtown library always put a smile on my face and made me know it was going to be a good day. In recent years we bonded over our shared love of RiffTrax, and would often bump into each other at the movie theater when there was a rare theatrical screening. We would recount our favorite scenes or lines and share a hearty laugh. There’s a show coming up next month and I will feel lost there without him.
The sadness is heavy like a rock inside of all of us, knowing we won’t see David again. There are few people in this world I have met who were truly kind souls and never rose to anger. David was one of those rare few who made each person he met just a little bit better than they were before.
David’s family has been amazing during this tragic time. They have kept both the library and library patrons informed of arrangements and have read every single story about David that has been posted to our Facebook page. We invite all of Everett and beyond to join us at a memorial for David:
Saturday, September 27
2:30-5pm
Main Library Auditorium
2702 Hoyt Ave.
Everett, WA 98201
Bring your stories to share with us and David’s family, and also bring cookies. David really loved a good cookie, and his family would like to pay tribute to that by having cookies at his memorial. Gifts may be made to the library in memory of David, per family request.

David loved Doctor Who, and had a variety of Doctor Who T-shirts he wore to work. Fans would strike up conversations with him about the show upon meeting him.
I’m still struggling through writing this, so I’ll leave you with some heartfelt words from our mutual friend and colleague Kathy:
David and I were members of the same secret handshake society: The Whovians. That’s the cult of Doctor Who, for those of you who don’t belong. We initially recognized one another by our T-shirts, which are indecipherable to outsiders and yet don’t stand out in the general population. We had different favorite actors and episodes, but it’s a friendly cult so it was all cool.
David, I’ll miss you trying to convince me “your” Doctor was better than mine.
Don’t blink.