Helping Dave- Putting The Pieces Back Together

There are moments in life that shatter everything at once. The body, the plans, the rhythm of a household that depends on one person showing up. March 13th was that moment for our family.

David Duane Wallace, affectionately known as “Dave,” is a son, a brother, a father, a cousin, and a friend. At 44, he is the kind of man who shows up and has shown up for people around him simply by being present. He is one who has sacrificed his dreams to help hold things together in the ways that never make headlines. Dave is a single father; he and his teen son are sharing a household with his mother, whose own mobility makes the physical demands of daily life something Dave has quietly absorbed. His children are now watching their father fight in ways no young person should have to witness.

On the night of March 13th, the car Dave was a backseat passenger in struck a New York City sanitation backhoe that was jutting out into a Bronx street. He lost a dear friend in that crash and we are devastated for that family. The driver of the vehicle survived. But in an instant, the man who had always juggled so much was literally broken into pieces. Dave is the one who needs holding now.

As for what his body has endured, the road ahead for him will be a very long one. Among the injuries Dave sustained is a femur fracture so severe that the bone broke through his left leg. He has effectively sustained multiple fractures to his entire left side, including both his arm and his leg. He has a collapsed lung and a broken clavicle, received a significant blood transfusion, and has spent days in the ICU. Some initial surgeries are behind him with more major procedures still ahead. He will remain in the hospital for several weeks, and that will be followed by intensive rehabilitation. We pray it will be effective. What we know for certain is that Dave has a great deal of courageous work ahead of him, the work of learning to do life anew, and the work of learning to walk again.

What recovery at this level actually requires extends far beyond what most people imagine, and far beyond what insurance will cover. It is spiritual and mind work. Asking for help. And practically, Dave will need a wheelchair and adaptive medical equipment. He will need support with personal care, the intimate, daily needs that arise when the body cannot yet care for itself. There are costs that fall into the gaps that insurance simply does not reach, and those gaps are real, they are immediate, and they add up quickly. Dave will not be able to work for at least a year, and the people who love him and his children, who depend on him, cannot put their lives on pause while he heals. That would break him psychologically. He’s devastated at the loss of his friend, worried about his mom and children but thankful and asking for more prayers from

those lifting him in that way..

He has children who are walking through this with a grace and a courage that humbles everyone around them. They are in the midst of their own seasons of becoming. This summer especially holds milestones their father would have been the first one there for: a school trip, a graduation ceremony, the ordinary moments that become extraordinary when the parent who always showed up suddenly cannot. The ride Dave would have given, things he would have handled with their school without a second thought still need fulfilment. The runs to the barber shop for the boys — all at a screeching halt. The presence that cannot be replicated but whose absence can, in small ways, be softened.

When we are broken, we do not heal in isolation. We heal because someone chose to show up. Because someone decided that another person’s suffering was worth something to them. This is that moment. This is that invitation to give him community. Please help.

While we know that expenses will surpass this goal, we’ve set a target of $15,000. This time is not easy for most people as we all have limitations and responsibilities. Whatever you can offer, it will land in the hands of a family doing the sacred, exhausting work of staying together through the unthinkable. No contribution is too small. Every single one says: I see you. You are not alone in this.

Thank you for praying for Dave and know that even that is you lifting and seeing us.