David Robert Shaddy’s early years were spent in Southern California, where he learned to swim, fish, and sail. Equipped with a lean and muscular 6’4” frame and 6’7”-wide wingspan, David was a naturally-talented swimmer and water-polo player, following in the footsteps of his great-grandfather David D. Levinson, a three-time All-American water polo player at CCNY and Columbia University and a member of the CCNY Athletic Hall of Fame.

David was born with a brilliant mind and an insatiable curiosity. He read the World Book Encyclopedia cover to cover before the age of twelve and, to his parent’s horror but as a solid testimony to his burgeoning mechanical skills, Dave “repurposed” the lawnmower in fifth grade. He spent youthful summers in the green mountains of Vermont at Camp Sangamon, where his brain was challenged as he was schooled in a range of both modern and arcane life skills by his mentors, Dave Farnham and Mike Byrom. At Sangamon, David was taught woodworking, roofing, lumbering, deep woods survival camping, and more. His summers at camp equipped him with the practical handiness that would be the hallmark of all his days, as well as a group of people who loved him dearly. Rory Palmer, Tammy Adams, Elaine Ball, Mike Malone, Jason Finley, Bec Madigan, and Jediah Byrom were all like family in his life.

In the words of Jed Byrom: “Dave was one of the most remarkable people I’ve known. Camp Sangamon quite literally created a program to match his needs and talents at the age of 15. Dave was always one to love others in ways he struggled to love himself, and the care and support he gave to those in his life defined him. He will be deeply missed, and his impact both on projects and people at camp will echo and resound for generations to come.”

David treasured his family’s engineering heritage. He often referenced the work of his beloved grandpa Alfred Laufer, who owned and operated a prominent engineering and construction business in Nassau County, NY from the very early 1950’s into the 1980’s. Like grandpa Alfred, David had an engineer’s mind, and while he could fix anything mechanical, he didn’t stop there: he practiced professionally as a paralegal, a registered nurse, a lumberjack, an executive chef, a brand representative, and a landscape designer. He excelled at physical work and could shoulder two tons of soil up to a rooftop garden in a single day, all with a grin and an air of ease that made onlookers raise their brows in disbelief. In his leisure time, he enjoyed an active lifestyle, especially fishing, hunting, eating, hiking, and strolling around town—he walked so much he wore through a pair of shoes every two months. And he really enjoyed naps. If you were listening, you might have heard him say,
“I installed sensors to automate my indoor plant wall”
“I climbed a tree with an ax in each hand”
“I rewired the electrical in the bathroom”
“I installed a furnace in the log cabin I built”
“I got the old tractor running”
“I replaced the floorboards"
“I fixed that dock”
“Oh...it started raining; I have to go to sleep now”

Dave was an institution of a man, difficult, and at the same time, absolutely the best. Seeking new adventures, Dave relocated to Brooklyn in late 2018, and made the city his home for the last three years of his life. As he strode down the sidewalks of New York City, head and shoulders above the crowd, his signature hat, a gift from his sister, was unmissable. Dogs would flock to him; dog owners would come up to him and say, “you’re my dog’s favorite person! Who are you?” Women of all ages flirted shamelessly with him. He’d get hired on the spot. If you had a problem, he could solve it. If he had a problem, he’d tell you about it after he solved it. He loved hosting dinner parties for people he met along the way who didn’t yet know each other, benevolently stirring the social pot from his post as kitchen master, warming hearts and filling bellies. He was unconcerned with the consequences of the truth. He was unconcerned about his own physical well-being, too willing, perhaps, to sacrifice himself for the sake of others. His memory will be cherished by his Brooklyn tribe: Sean McCaffery, Morgan Weidinger, Tereza Hamdan, Abed Hamdan, Liz Barry, and Julia Tosone.

David found the greatest meaning in helping people. During the pandemic in New York City, he created a new business and hired all his friends who needed work. He fed the unhoused, found work for the unemployed, supported artists, and took time to help the elderly. He loved children. He was both brooding and delightful, one moment leaning against a wall, deep in meditation over a cigarette, and the next, giddy with delight as he cooed at a passing pup. He laughed at filthy jokes. His moods were stormy and the storm clouds were, at times, massive. He was an excellent listener who reflected you back with accuracy. A lucky few knew that he loved to sing and had a beautiful baritone voice.

In the words of Liz Barry: He carried my father’s boats, and my mother’s furniture. He fixed our moving truck, and my car. Everywhere I look in my house I see the craft and care he left behind. After a hard day of work—and no one worked more than him—he’d cook everyone dinner. Don’t bother telling him not to eat a double portion at every meal because he won’t listen, but do tell him you love him.

David leaves behind his beloved son Rowan Shaddy, his mother Eve Laufer, his father Jonathan Shaddy, his sister Catherine Frecceri, and his brother Scott Mirick.