“We never really know everyone completely,” I said. “Maybe there are other parts of him we can still learn.”
The following Saturday, we visited the youth center.
Caleb nearly changed his mind in the parking lot.
“We can leave,” I told him.
He stared at the entrance. “No.”
“You’re sure?”
“I don’t know.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “That’s very honest.”
He sighed. “Let’s just go.”
Marcus greeted us inside.
He’d apparently told a few people we were coming.
That “few” turned out to be almost 20 people, including current teenagers and young adults who’d previously attended the program.
A young woman named Tasha approached first. She looked no older than 20.
“You’re David’s son?”
Caleb nodded.
She smiled.
“He was an amazing man. And annoying too.”
Caleb blinked, and I laughed.
Tasha grinned.
“No, seriously. He would not let anything go. I was 14, and I posted everything online. My school, where I lived, where I was going after class. Your dad kept telling me it wasn’t safe.”
“What happened?” Caleb asked.
“I told him he was old.”
Caleb smiled. “That also sounds like him.”
Tasha became serious.
“Then some grown man started messaging me pretending to be 16. Your dad helped me figure out what was happening before I met him.”
My smile disappeared.
“He helped my mom report everything,” she continued. “I hated admitting he was right.”
Another young man, Jordan, told Caleb how David had supported him after classmates created a fake account to humiliate him.
“I didn’t want to go back to school,” Jordan said. “Your dad sat with me right over there.”
He indicated a worn couch.
“He told me, ‘Don’t let cruel people get to you. They want you to hide because of something they did. They are the ones who should be ashamed.'”
Caleb listened attentively.
Jordan continued. “He helped me talk to my school. He kept checking on me too.”
Others shared their own memories.
David had taught teenagers to secure their accounts, helped parents understand unfamiliar apps, and explained how edited photographs could distort body image.
He discussed anxiety, social comparison, and how being constantly connected online could still leave someone feeling deeply alone.
Then Marcus brought out an old guitar.
“Here was the other half of his program.”
Caleb frowned. “Music?”
“Sometimes. Especially when everyone was tired of listening to lectures.”
A boy at the back called out, “He wasn’t that good.”
Everyone laughed.
Caleb joined them with a genuine laugh I hadn’t heard in months.
On the drive home, he remained silent for about 10 minutes.
Then he asked, “Do you think Dad knew those people would remember him?”
“I don’t know.”
“I didn’t.”
