David Lawrence Ramsey

David Lawrence Ramsey, solider, son, business owner, father and husband, passed away on July 5, 2016. David, the oldest son of Lynn and Lenore Ramsey, was born on March 15, 1935 in Maryville, Tennessee. He was later joined by siblings Tom and Lynn Louise. Growing up, David enjoyed horseback riding, hiking in the Great Smokey Mountains and playing basketball. That love of basketball helped him make the Maryville High School basketball team. He also played baseball and French horn in the band and when he graduated in 1953, he played basketball and baseball at Tennessee Tech University. Soon after, though, David joined the U.S. Army, where he served in Europe during the height of the Cold War. After being honorably discharged, David married Virginia Marshall on July 5, 1957. They were married exactly 59 years. Dave graduated from the University of Tennessee Knoxville with a degree in Transportation -- He loved the Big Orange and was truly a Vol for Life! He and Virginia soon moved to Birmingham, Alabama where he combined his love of sales and cars and sold Pontiacs. It was in Birmingham where Dave's first two children, Stephanie and Jennifer were born. The growing Ramsey family soon moved to Richmond, Virginia and then to Rahway, New Jersey. That's where their third child, Marshall was born. Dave's final move came in 1968, when the family relocated to Marietta, Georgia. In 1974, Dave teamed up with his neighbor Bob Towery and opened Canton Road Standard, a full-service gas station. Eventually, they opened Auto Action, a multi-bay car care business. After several successful years, Ramsey sold the business and went to work for Cobb County Public Schools in their transportation department. During this time, he and Virginia traveled and cruised around the world from Europe to Alaska. Dave also loved to play golf – and turned it into a new career as a golf marshal. But as successful as he was at work, his true passion was his family. He was a coach, PTA club president, member of the booster club and a number one supporter of his three children. He was quick to bandage a knee, cheer in the stands and encourage a dream. A man of quiet faith, Dave was a member of Covenant Presbyterian Church. Dave also showed great courage in surviving Stage 3 Bladder Cancer. His example inspired his children and five grandchildren. His five grandsons Blake, Bryce, Daniel, David and Evan loved their Papa Dave. Whether it was riding on his knee or in his convertible Corvette, his grandchildren will never forget his smile and stories -- Stories that will live on in their memories and their hearts.

In honor of Dave and in lieu of flowers, the family requests a donation to the Pat Summitt Foundation to help bring an end to the monster called dementia.

http://www.patsummitt.org/ways_to_give.aspx

This narrative, written by his oldest grandson Blake shows that David Lawrence Ramsey truly lived a life well lived.

Blake Biddy

Dr. Parrott

AP Language

November 11, 2008

The Battle of a Hero

On November 8, 2008, a beautiful fall day, I sat down on the black leather sofa in my grandparents' sunroom to interview my grandfather, or Papa Dave as the grandchildren call him. Unsure of what to say, I studied the colors of the leaves in the backyard racking my brain for an opening question. My grandfather seemed slightly uncomfortable with the business-like aura in the room and I needed a question to break the ice and get him going. Collecting my thoughts, I managed to jumble together my opening question, "What moment in your memory stands out the most or signifies a major change in your life?" As I looked into the eyes of my grandfather, I could almost see the seventy-three years pass by until they came to rest on one particular moment. My grandfather finally spoke, "Well, Monday is the ten-year anniversary of the day I was deemed free of cancer." I arrived at my grandparents' house that day looking for information for a school essay. What I gained, however, was a newfound respect for Papa Dave and a story that forever changed the way I will look at him.

Papa Dave was born David Lawrence Ramsey on March 15, 1935. He attended college in his home state at Tennessee Tech University. Upon the completion of his freshman year, he was drafted into the Army where he served for two years. When he returned home, he enrolled at the University of Tennessee, where he finished his schooling, graduating with a Bachelor of Science in Transportation. Papa Dave married my grandmother Virginia in 1957 and, after living in two other states and the birth of three children, including my mother, he finally settled his family in the house at 101 Willard Drive in Marietta, Georgia where he still lives today.

After a synopsis of seventy-three years of Papa Dave's life, I directed the conversation to the topic of question, his battle with cancer. At first, I was skeptical whether or not he would be able to talk about such a trying time. Then I remembered I was talking to the man who started his own business in automotive repair and successfully ran it for fifteen years after reading an article that said "eighty-seven percent of all small businesses fail after the first year" and who once built a second house simply "because [he] always wanted to build a house." He began his story as if he were talking about a trip to the supermarket: "I knew something was wrong and I went to the doctor." The "something" was a cyst in his bladder. The doctor informed Papa Dave that he most likely had cancer and referred him to a urologist, a specialist in the area. The urologist told my grandfather the same thing, adding that since his office did not deal with cancer, Papa Dave would need to see a urologist oncologist. Yet another doctor's appointment awaited, this time with Dr. Kasabian, a thirty-seven year-old professor at Emory University that specialized in cancer of the bladder. He examined Papa Dave and informed him that his bladder would need to be removed. "I will not live my life with a bag for a bladder," my grandfather exclaimed, "and if that's the way it's going to be, I'll live through it!" Dr. Kasabian chuckled and explained that he and his colleagues had created a method in which the bladder could be rebuilt using a part of the small intestine. The procedure had only been performed three times before and had only been mildly successful. "I will be in and out of the hospital and have multiple offices," Dr. Kasabian explained, "so if you have any questions, talk to my nurse Pam." Papa Dave left the office filled with trepidation and doubt. "I wondered, 'Why me?' I hadn't done anything wrong accept chew a little tobacco," Papa Dave stated with a smile. Feeling sorry for himself, he sat wondering if this new surgery was his best option. Finally, realizing he could not make the decision on his own, Papa Dave contacted Pam. Through several conversations with the nurse, he decided to have the surgery and quit feeling sorry for himself. "There's two ways you can go. You can cry and feel sorry for yourself or you can say 'By golly, I'm going to lick this!'" Papa Dave preached. With the prayers of friends and family and a positive attitude, he entered the hospital on November 10, 1998. Papa Dave described how he no longer felt sorry for himself and he was simply "ready to dropkick [cancer] down the hall." Although he was not used to being sick, Papa Dave knew his positive attitude would help him survive the surgery. Positive attitude had always helped Papa Dave be successful: "I was convinced I was going to play basketball as a five-foot-tall, 100 pound freshman, I was convinced I was going to have a successful business, and I was convinced I was going to beat cancer." Before entering surgery, Dr. Kasabian went over some last minute information. He stated, "We are confident that we will remove all of the cancer since it did not spread to your lymph nodes and blood stream. You will be in the hospital recovering for about eight to ten days." Papa Dave responded by saying, "After this is over, you'll tell me that I was the best patient you've ever had. I will whip this thing and have no doubts or regrets." Following that triumphant statement, he entered the surgery room like a knight embarking on a quest for the Holy Grail.

After the surgery, Papa Dave lay like a wounded soldier in ICU. Hooked up to direct injections of morphine, he was hardly himself "asking everyone to kill the animals that were running on the ceiling." Despite his pitiful state, the doctors reassured the family that they had removed all of the cancer and Papa Dave was now on the speedy road to recovery. Dr. Kasabian stressed the importance of exercise. "I walked miles in that hospital," Papa Dave recalled. It was not the exercise that bothered him for he enjoyed the opportunity to get out of the hospital bed, it was his hygiene. "I felt dirty. I wanted to clean myself. When I finally got out of ICU and into a regular room, I hopped into the shower and scrubbed myself," he explained making a scrubbing motion with his arms. "When [the doctors] found me, they yanked me out and dried me off as quickly as they could. Apparently, I couldn't do that yet," he said with a wry smile. Papa Dave was ready to get out of the hospital and the nurses were most likely ready to get rid of him. Although it seemed as if he quickly conquered cancer, the battle was only beginning because, as Dr. Kasabian had informed, it would be about a year before Papa Dave felt "over it." In three months, he would be back for a checkup to see if the cancer had indeed been vanquished.

Three months passed with few setbacks. Nevertheless, apprehension mounted in the pit of Papa Dave's stomach as he clutched the barium liquid he had been ordered to consume before his checkup. The vile liquid trembled slightly in his hand as he raised it to his lips. Determined to drink it all, he forced the barium down his throat ignoring the taste comparable to "sewer water." After consuming the disgusting liquid, Papa Dave reported to Dr. Kasabian's office to be examined. The examination went as expected and Pam informed Papa Dave that he would hear results in about four weeks. Recalling the event, Papa Dave described, "I envisioned everything going wrong. I told Pam that she would tell me something in a few days because I couldn't wait around for weeks wondering if I was okay." Pam said that she would do the best she could and sent him home. At home, Papa Dave faced another stage of his troublesome battle with cancer, worrying. "I couldn't sleep for three days after that first checkup!" he exclaimed. The worrying vanished, however, when he got the call verifying his healthy state. With one checkup out of the way, Papa Dave began to feel normal again. He realized that everything would be okay as long as he kept the positive attitude that carried him through the surgery. Papa Dave still had many checkups left, checkups that revealed a hernia and a "porcelainized" gall bladder that needed to be removed, but with each checkup, Papa Dave gained confidence and mental strength. "I began to create methods of making things better. That barium liquid…I know how to drink it now. [The doctors] want you to drink it in thirty minutes. Hell, I can down it in a minute and a half. I used to hate it, but now I can drink it all day long," Papa Dave explained. Not only had he mastered the barium liquid, he had also mastered the medical appointments. With each checkup came more reassurance of the surgery's success. Dr. Kasabian gradually increased the length of time between each visit and my grandfather only visits once a year now. Papa Dave shifted in his seat and told me of last year's visit to Dr. Kasabian's office: "I got in there and [Dr. Kasabian] said there was something else we needed to talk about. He said, 'I remember you telling me you were going to be the best patient I ever had. Well, I think your positive attitude, your friends' and family's prayer, and our medical treatment have joined forces to help you beat cancer.'" Dr. Kasabian's words merely reinforced what Papa Dave had known ever since he left the hospital after his surgery. He had defeated cancer.

As I reviewed my notes, I marveled at the resilience of the man sitting in front of me. I always knew that my grandfather was stubborn and hard-headed, traits that I inherited, but I never realized how strong he was. Papa Dave interrupted my thoughts with his final words of the interview, "Blake, some people are fighters and some people aren't. We, as a family, are fighters." At a loss for words, I hastily scribbled the quote at the top of my paper. I stacked up the notes I acquired and placed them in my binder, all the while wondering how I would write a paper that could do justice to Papa Dave's story. Words cannot truly express what I gained from my interview on that beautiful fall afternoon in November. "I hope you got enough to make a good paper," Papa Dave stated. If he only knew what he really gave me. Through his story, Papa Dave not only gave me information for an essay, he gave me a hero. As I said my goodbyes and left the house, I noticed the colors on the leaves in the yard. "It's a beautiful day," I said to myself, "It's a beautiful day."

Burial arrangements under the direction of Kennesaw Memorial Park.