First met Dax Jones on a trip to CALI. You could tell the grit of him immediately. Hilarious, sharp, well read - absorbed books like a sponge, humble,considerate.

It was an adventurous trip: we got picked up in a Bronco with a sticker on the back that said 100% pure whoop @$$. Detroiters Never having seen Ted Nugent saw him with Three Marines at the HOUSE OF BLUES in LA!

Dax Jones, John Lucas and (the driving sleeper marine). We were exhausted and the the joyous marines went out into the city after the concert ended. I hadn’t slept in like 36hrs so we stayed behind, rested in the Bronco - eventually all of us met back up at around 3am. We were young - no big thing.

That night - coming into LAX, I didn’t know what to expect. Would I be an outsider? A circle in the square matrix of the marine crew? Nope. Any friend of John’s is a friend of mine and vice versa! Mi casa es tu casa.

It was like a brand new set of old friends - that is how welcomed Dax made us feel. Like an immediate extension of the friends we were visiting. Easy. Welcoming.

Heading back from LA - most everyone in the Bronco was asleep. (The driving sleeper marine, with deep respect, I just cannot. remember his name) was designated driver heading back, but, he too, started falling asleep. Two slight swerves and an “No I’m ok” “…are you falling asleep?” Knowing he was a non-drinker.

I asked the Driving sleeper Marine to pull over - he did — and I started driving the Bronco back to Base. Not really knowing where I was going.

Dax, as if on cue, would wake and chime in saying things like “Go right” “That next exit” “Another 20-miles”

It seemed right when I was about to make a wrong turn or go the wrong way / I would get a course correction from Dax!!

I questioned if the snores in between the directions were real. But miraculously - through the hours he would be there when I needed to keepn things on course- as if the whole ordeal was all choreographed or something.

The map guidance before TomTom, Garmin and Google Maps in the form of a tired Marine named Dax Jones.

Being there right when you needed something — it seems to be a pattern of who Dax was it turned out. Not just the events of that night or help during that single drive. A pattern. A core atribute.

He went out of his way - little things - pick someone up at the airport, help me out as a conduit to CA art networks when I was doing some ADs there. Big things : Officiating John and Sarah’s wedding, being there for their family.

That is the type of person he was - he would give you the shirt off his back to do something to help you.

Without question.

Without hesitation.

Part of the fabric of him I would say.

He made you feel like that was more important than whatever he had going on - I can get back to that!

Right now - let me do this for you. Much respect. Consistently. Always.

That week we all continued our adventures - and conversations about all the not so common topics you can talk to new acquaintances about: movies, books, comics, reading, politics, religion, school, goals, rights, wrongs, stances, beliefs — life. Right? Not the norm.

Dax was a big reader - fitting since his name was from a popular sci-fi novel - that was the story. Dax a popular name of the readers of that novel. Seems very fitting more and more.

I am so grateful having seen him again not long ago - picking things up as if no time had passed between. A celebration. A coming of age. A well planned surprise.

While the wound in my heart deepens as the realization sets in / it deepens further for his family and friends, those who’s lives he touched outside of my own - the collective grief.

Had I known that was the last time I’d see him I’d have told him:

“ Those adventures are memorable ones, those conversations - depth behind them / they still resonate… I am a better person having met you Dax! Thank you for that”

- Semper fidelis from the poser with the black beret! Rest In Peace! DAX!