Eulogy for David F. "DH" Nordstrom
Saturday, February 3, 2001
From his sister, Kris Nordstrom McBride

When David was 2 years old, our Father, an accomplished swimmer, already had him in the water, and soon made me race him to build his strength and competitive drive.

When David was 6 years old, he disappeared from school. After frantically searching the schoolyard, the principal ran across the street to our apartment. The door was unlocked. Fearfully, he opened it – and there sat David, drinking a coke, eating a sandwich – no crusts on the bread, of course - and watching the TV. David looked up with that "What???" look on his face – I know you’ve all seen that look – and said to him – IT’S THE WORLD SERIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

When he was 10, our Dad managed a Hotel across from the Astrodome, where the visiting teams often stayed. David and Mom would drive in from Baytown every weekend to stay with Dad. David would show them around the Hotel, play gofer for the players, and warm the bench with them at the games.

Before he could drive, I would pick him up from Hockey Practice, with Scottie in tow, and take him to the Coliseum to work the Aeros games for his Hockey League. He quickly worked his way into the hearts of the team, and before long, he was a stick boy.

…And the rest, of course, is history. Sports were in his blood, and he learned at the side of the master, our Dad. He learned lots of other things from him too, and as he grew older, the resemblance was sometimes nothing short of scary. We’d often shake our heads, shrug our shoulders …"Hey, H.A.’s son" we’d say. Dad taught him to tell a good story, drink strong Vodka, and roll those beautiful baby blues to charm us all.

There was none that charm worked more effectively on than Phyllis, our Mom.

He got mad at me for some transgression when he was 6 or 7 and turned over every piece of furniture in the house…I was 12 at the time, and when Mom got home, I got the lecture for not controlling him --- CONTROL HIM ???????? Control David???? Hello!!

My friends growing up were all struggling musicians and hippies, and when I’d come home late with often true stories of cars breaking down and running out of gas, she’d tear me a new one, sure that I was lying. David would walk in with his same stories, he’d bat those eyes, and tell those tales, and she’d some how believe that somebody’s gas gage on their Mom’s BMW really WAS busted. He’d just smile and give me THAT LOOK.

Phyllis taught him to cook and he was really quite good and I know we’ve all enjoyed many a grilled something at the Lake House – but I must say I was always just a little pleased when he’d sneak into another room at a Mim’s Family gathering and call me to check just one more time on how to perfect Mom’s gravy.

He always surrounded himself with people who could teach him. He observed; he never missed a thing. St Thomas taught him about belonging and unity. The Aeros and The Rockets taught him about championships and defeat. Dick Vandervoort was his mentor and taught him to perfect his craft. The Shindler’s taught him about fine wines, and Dart taught him about dark pubs. At 17 Cristy came into his life, and taught him about love as he had never known it. His brothers and Mack taught him about fatherhood. Nick and Tyler and Jordann taught him that friendship and loyalties begin at an early age. Sandy taught him that tears were okay and that mistakes were always forgiven. The list goes on and on. As I look out upon this sea of faces, I know that each of you brought something to his life.

And, he taught US. I spoke with Ron Vuy on the way here today, and he told me that what had always impressed him so much about DH was his commitment to whatever he was involved in. When he was with The Rockets, he WAS The Rockets! He bled yellow and red. He never forgot a face, and never betrayed a friend.

When David was 8, he was horsing around the pool, doing things he wasn’t supposed to do, and he hit his head and went under. I was at the other end of the pool, and watched it happening, as if in slow motion. I dove in, raced across that water faster than I knew possible and pulled him out..Only to discover he was just fine – it had all been a game, a prank, and he was furious with me rescuing him. I wasn’t sure what to do next – I was so angry, and so relieved all at the same time, I didn’t know whether to kiss him, or slap him. Little did I know this was a mix of emotions I would feel often the rest of our lives.

He was no angel – in fact, there were times we were sure he was the Devil himself.

BUT HE WAS REAL, and he was an original. And, although his stories might to embellished and his tales might be tall, his heart was pure and he never, ever meant anyone any harm.

Eleanor Roosevelt once said "Learn from the mistakes of others. You can’t live long enough to make them all yourself " But he sure wanted to try! He loved that edge, loved the thrill of walking that thin line. He loved working the room, being the center of attention, and making it all happen. He lived the life of a rock star for many years, with all the ups and downs that went with the territory. The Hat Parties were legendary, the middle of the night calls were reality.

But those who knew him as only the Party Boy, really didn’t know him at all. He didn’t know how to balance a checkbook when he was a young adult, so he asked me to teach him. The day he and Cristy became engaged they started working together for their future. And the day Nicholas came into their lives, he made sure Nick’s future was secure. When dark days struck 3 years ago, and he felt his life was ruined, he rose from it – not without faltering, and not without missteps – but rise from it he did – and a wiser man emerged… One who spent more time with his wife, who took his son to school most days, who coached the kids teams; one who came to understand that those who loved him loved him for the quality of his soul, not the front row tickets. He gave special gifts of his spirit to each of our children, and they all have Uncle David stories as unique as their individual relationships with him. The four of us each tried in our own ways to protect him and love him, and he often fought us every step of the way – but we knew, WE DID KNOW, that it was all an act.

****David – by the way – you told us too many Nordstroms were moving to the Lake and so it was time for you and Cristy to sell. Well good buddy – just to make your day, we want you to know we’ve all bought plots at Shepard Hill Cemetery!!!! Ya can’t get rid of us Brother!****

A family friend summed up his life so well in a letter to us this week…"We are completely speechless about David. There is nothing that can be said that can in anyway lessen the shock and sorrow. But, one thing is for sure – he never had to guess whether he was loved. He was surrounded by it and supported by it. What a gift you were all able to share with him, and that is something that he has certainly taken with him – because it became a part of who he was". It may surprise you to know that in his quiet moments, away from the facade and the image, he worried that he wasn’t worthy of that love. He asked me one night, very recently, in one of those late night confessionals…. What If I’M Not Good Enough????????????? I assured him that the only person in the world who had any doubt about that … was himself. Perhaps he believes it now, for we all know, only the good die young.

God certainly must have a plan here, although we can’t see it. But we must believe it to be true. So many of you have told us in your calls this week that " Ya know, the strangest thing happened with DH recently……….." and you have proceeded to relay stories of special things he has said or done in the last few months ---- Did he somehow know? Did God give him a little tap on the shoulder? We will never know, but whatever the cause or reason, we are thankful.

Nicholas – you are indeed a very lucky boy – you have known the love of a Pappa who knew in his heart you were the very best thing that ever happened to he and your Momma. Your Pappa is looking down from heaven right now – he’s there with his Mommy and Daddy, who have missed him so much – and they are all smiling – and they are happy! You can rest assured that they will ALL protect you, and love you and watch over you. And WE promise you Nick - we will do what Pappa wants – WE will all smile and be happy too.

Cristy – he would have never made it without you! You are the love of his life. You brought out the best in him, and he was a better man for having loved you. You are our sister, and we will be there for you forever………he’d never forgive us if we weren’t – and we all know he’s got a lot of pull now – we wouldn’t want to make him mad – he’d get even , and we’d be sorry!

I went to the Lake House yesterday, and there’s a quote from Yogi Berra taped on his refrigerator…I froze when I saw I; it says, "The future isn’t what it used to be". I know that is how we all feel today. But we must take one breath at a time, and wish him well. We must light the pathway for him. So, I will close with an Irish Blessing…

May Your Day Be Blessed!
May the Road Rise to Meet You!
May the wind be ever at your back.
May the sun shine warmly on your face.
May the rain fall softly upon your shoulders
And – until we meet again, little brother –
May God Hold You In The Palm of His Hand.

Opening words of Eulogy – from Mack

Welcome. Or as DH would say Gnaack.

When Cristy asked me to speak today, I took it as an honor and a huge responsibility to speak to his many friends that are gathered here today. Then the task began of figuring out what to say. As the week went on I began asking for advice and help on what to say and maybe a story or two to tell as I talked to his friends . Well everybody I talked to seemed to have their own favorite DH story. Like remember the time when DH…no can’t tell that one. Remember the time when….no, can’t tell that one either.

All kidding aside one dominant theme kept showing up when talking about DH. The numerous, numerous friendships he developed, the dedication he showed to his friends and family, his loyalty, his immense pride and of course his zest for living life to its fullest.

Take our friendship for example. I moved to Houston almost 23 years ago. My college roommate grew up in Houston and through him one of the first people I met in Houston was DH. I’m basically quiet, reserved and not real outgoing. DH was outgoing, engaging, and sociable. I moved here from slightly north of the mason-dixon line and DH was a native Texan and proud of it. Yeah, I think he referred to me then as a Yankee! I was tall and yes, DH you were short! But in spite of all these contrasts, we became friends and with DH you had a friend for life.

You really can’t talk about DH without talking about his work and his career. He started out as a teenager selling programs at the old coliseum downtown at Aeros games, later becoming a stick boy and then an equipment assistant. I remember a few years ago they had an Aeros reunion here in town and when the players from the original Aeros gathered in Houston, it was DH they all wanted to see. It wasn’t this player or that player, it was DH.

At the time of the Aeros demise Dick Vandervoort put DH to work with the Rockets. Back then, the job of equipment manager didn’t really exist. DH became the 1^st full time NBA equipment manager, 1^st NBA equipment manager to travel on the road, 1^st equipment manager to be voted playoff money. Here was a guy who obviously never scored a point all season and the players were voting him a full playoff share and cutting him in on a piece of their playoff money. I think that says volumes about his value to the players and the job he did.

He was extremely dedicated to his job. I think in the 20 odd years with the Rockets I can only remember him missing one game and I think that was after he was in an accident and had almost broken his hip. Well, that night at the game there were four of us there trying to cover for him and we still couldn’t do his job.

The guy never called in sick. I can remember one time early on in his career where let’s say DH went out and did up the town one night. Well, if that was you or me and the alarm clock went off early the next morning we might have the tendency to call in sick. Not DH. On that morning Trick shows up at the Summit for practice, unlocks the locker room and walks into the training room and there’s DH with the training table as his bed. But he didn’t miss practice.

DH treated everybody the same. Whether it was the bellman at the hotel helping him load the team’s equipment or the Patterson’s or Charlie Thomas for whom he worked. Whether it was a free agent at training camp that everyone knew didn’t have a chance to make the team or a Moses Malone or an Hakeem Olajuwon. He treated everyone the same.

Although DH was fiercely competitive that was only during the game. Before or after the game DH couldn’t help but display his Texas hospitality and sportsmanship. I remember one time shortly after Bill Fitch was named coach that he observed DH going out of his way in making some arrangements or something for a practice for a team that was in town to play the Rockets. "Dark," he said. "That’s the other team. We have to play them tomorrow. You’re not supposed to be making them comfortable. Well DH just didn’t know any other way.

DH became quite a legacy throughout the league. He had friends in every organization in the league, knew everybody that worked at the hotels where they stayed and restaurants where they ate in every city.

I remember at my rehearsal dinner before I got married. We had a nice sit down dinner at Rao’s and I seated DH at a table with a friend I knew through business. We all had our little placecards at our tables and in a formal setting DH was "David" Nordstrom. So my friend struck up a conversation with "David" not knowing he was DH and proceeds to tell David about this guy DH that he had heard me talk about. So after rambling on about DH this and DH that and all the while DH was leaning back and taking it all in. He finally leaned forward and asked, "do you know DH?" In reply DH paused for a moment crossed is arms and leaned back and said, "I am DH."

He was the first one to the Summit on game days and the last one to leave the building after the game. He always made time for everybody. Whether it was taking time to talk to the parents of one of his ball boys, handling the many special requests the players had, making sure the visiting team had everything they needed, arranging for someone’s son, or little brother to get player autographs, getting tickets for a friend that wanted to go to a game or handling the numerous requests for autographed basketballs or memorabilia for all the charity auctions that relied on DH. He never said no.

And then there were the championships. There was nobody in the organization that was prouder or wanted a ring more than DH. And both years, after they won and after the parade and before the trophy would make it’s way to the trophy case, Rudy T would give the trophy to DH. "Take it to the people, Horse," he said. And there was nobody better suited to "take it to the people" than DH.

And 23 years ago, I never dreamed of all the memories we’d make. I was there when he married Cristy. He was there at my wedding. Our wives are now best friends. He was there when I had kids and I was there when Nick came along. And boy was I proud of what a great father he was. Spending the summers at the Lake with either Nick hanging at our house or our kids over at theirs. My kids couldn’t wait to get up on Sunday mornings to run across the street for one of DH’s pancake breakfasts.

And to Cristy and especially to you Khabibulin, you have more aunts and uncles and cousins than I can count and with that being said, the emphasis is still on the quality not the quantity. And there’s this huge extended family that is gathered here today. And I know for one that I will always be there for you guys.

To borrow a line I saw on TV after the recent OSU tragedy, it was said to honor the dead by being gracious. I am just one of many that are grateful to have know DH.