The following is Frazier's memory of Dave, as posted in the yearbook...
As anyone would tell you David Wunsch was a wild, crazy kid who went hitter skitter like a water bug in a vast puddle looking for who knows what. Pity the soul that crossed his path angularly, a crushing bombastic curse was being prepared. Love? Dave loved with a sincerity and deepness that could only be alloted a few because of its intensity and concentration. It developed into something almost physical; it was resolute, confident inspiring, with sanguine plans for the future. One never queried it, it was only felt by the intimate few who knew him.
His humor was invincible, no one could stay immune for long. Whether it was artful sarcasm, the description of a daring gambit or bawdy time, or the imitation of some peculiar face, Dave carried it off comically and immodestly. Many feigned a dislike for Dave when they were bearing the brunt of his sardonic wit, but as soon as they found themselves in his seeming good favor, they quickly adopted his friendship.
Perhaps the handsomest boy in the class, Dave's soft features harboured piercing eyes that skewered many who purported to support insensible social customs. Dave found that he could advance this crusade with his faculties in writing. Despite his zealous pursuit in this field, Dave's writing did not really mature until shortly before his untimely death, because of his propensity for circumlocution.At that time, Dave's sincere desire to be an author was beginning to materialize. His optimism was at a peak.
Awaiting in his forever virginal future, Dave had a life-long battle against pretentious people and a concommitant search for what was real. He was the first boy to be accepted in a college, the only junior to be captain of a varsity team, and President of the Rostrum, to briefly list his concrete accomplishments. Dave knew where he was going, and he allied all his faculties in preparation. He aligned himself on a course and held true, only death deprived him of a chance.
Dave was my best friend in grade school (Ladue, now Reed). We met in 3rd grade and spent all of our weekends together. I remember laying under the covers at his house listening to the Hawks' Bob Petit score 50 points as they beat the Celtics for their only NBA championship in 1958. We remained friends during my time at CDS, and after I switched to Ladue after 10th grade and attendend a CDS-Borroughs footballl game I got to see him again and his smile, warmth and friendship were as if we had never separated. I was devasted by his passing: he was a wonderful guy who would have made a difference in this world. I am blessed to have had him as a friend, even though it was for too short a time.
Ross Woolsey
As anyone would tell you David Wunsch was a wild, crazy kid who went hitter skitter like a water bug in a vast puddle looking for who knows what. Pity the soul that crossed his path angularly, a crushing bombastic curse was being prepared. Love? Dave loved with a sincerity and deepness that could only be alloted a few because of its intensity and concentration. It developed into something almost physical; it was resolute, confident inspiring, with sanguine plans for the future. One never queried it, it was only felt by the intimate few who knew him.
His humor was invincible, no one could stay immune for long. Whether it was artful sarcasm, the description of a daring gambit or bawdy time, or the imitation of some peculiar face, Dave carried it off comically and immodestly. Many feigned a dislike for Dave when they were bearing the brunt of his sardonic wit, but as soon as they found themselves in his seeming good favor, they quickly adopted his friendship.
Perhaps the handsomest boy in the class, Dave's soft features harboured piercing eyes that skewered many who purported to support insensible social customs. Dave found that he could advance this crusade with his faculties in writing. Despite his zealous pursuit in this field, Dave's writing did not really mature until shortly before his untimely death, because of his propensity for circumlocution.At that time, Dave's sincere desire to be an author was beginning to materialize. His optimism was at a peak.
Awaiting in his forever virginal future, Dave had a life-long battle against pretentious people and a concommitant search for what was real. He was the first boy to be accepted in a college, the only junior to be captain of a varsity team, and President of the Rostrum, to briefly list his concrete accomplishments. Dave knew where he was going, and he allied all his faculties in preparation. He aligned himself on a course and held true, only death deprived him of a chance.
John Shuchart
Dave was my best friend in grade school (Ladue, now Reed). We met in 3rd grade and spent all of our weekends together. I remember laying under the covers at his house listening to the Hawks' Bob Petit score 50 points as they beat the Celtics for their only NBA championship in 1958. We remained friends during my time at CDS, and after I switched to Ladue after 10th grade and attendend a CDS-Borroughs footballl game I got to see him again and his smile, warmth and friendship were as if we had never separated. I was devasted by his passing: he was a wonderful guy who would have made a difference in this world. I am blessed to have had him as a friend, even though it was for too short a time.