Dave Meredith was a great sign painter and a friend of mine. I met Dave many years ago, when I was painting billboards for Lamar Outdoor Advertising. Dave stopped in to say hi, as he and his wife had just moved from California to Colorado.
I gradually got to know Dave, and I recognized his work around town. He was very fast, and so his work always seemed to appear spontaneously - BAM! His designs and layouts had a wonderful, bold sass to them. Dave's work also somehow reflected his sunny, charming, and confident disposition.
I learned so much from Dave about laying out window letters and sign painting. I am a much better sign painter, and, I hope, also a better person because of things I learned from Dave. Dave was around 30 years older than me, and he showed me a way I could be an older person and still get a kick out of life and laugh at some of the drudgery and non-glamorous days.
One time we wound up painting an underground parking garage together in January. It was a sign artist's Hell - boring block numerals on rough concrete, about 30 degrees cold, with poor lighting to boot. Dave showed up smiling and said, just short of sardonically, "Steve, let's make it fun!" That remark alone cracked me up. Then we started painting, making wisecracks and telling stories at the same time. The conditions were miserable, but we did have fun, and I probably had more trouble holding my hand steady from laughing than from shivering. After lunch, Dave played a tape of Patsy Cline songs, on his truck's stereo, and her pure voice reverberated beautifully throughout that dreary parking garage. That's what it was like to work with Dave.
Dave was a Korean War Veteran, and he carried an old playing card, the Ace of Clubs, in his wallet. It was so worn you could hardly tell what it was. Back during the war, Dave was a Forward Artillery Spotter. One day a squad was being formed and there was an extra man. Dave drew cards against another soldier, to determine who got to take the day off. Dave won the draw, with that Ace of Clubs. Every last man in the squad that went out was killed in an ambush.
Even though he was such a nice guy, when I saw the movie "Gran Torino", I immediately thought of Dave. I called Dave because I wanted to tell him about the movie. He said, "My wife and I were watching that movie and she said, "Dave, that guy reminds me of you!""
Maybe Dave's war experiences contributed to his fearless attitude when he was working at heights. He amazed people and they couldn't get over his easy, steady demeanor at terrifying distances above the ground. He seemed to defy Father Time for many years, and if he said anything about getting older I kidded him that he was going to be the world's first immortal man.
Unfortunately, Dave was diagnosed with cancer in 2010. He took a sudden turn for the worse, with a case of pneumonia and a stroke, and he died right before Christmas.
I am glad I got to speak with Dave shortly before he left us. I told him thanks for all he had taught me, and thanks for all those fun days I have had, out painting windows, all because of what I learned from him. I got to hear his terrific laugh once again, and he still sounded like he had the world by the scruff of its neck.
When I heard that Dave was down for the count, and not expected to make it, I went out, on the spur of the moment, looking for something still left here in town that Dave had painted, so I could take pictures. The first and only thing I found was an archway Dave had painted for "The Blue Skies Inn". Way to go, Dave! You led a truly charmed life. Thanks again...