It was a simple compliment. Dave Herlocker was saying goodbye to me after I had directed a local race and he said matter-of- factly, "You're a good man, Dave." I don't know why, but I've never forgotten that. I guess compliments mean the most when they come from someone you respect.

The depth of my admiration for Dave began in a unique way, and I can place it back to a specific morning in 1995 that began with the thump of a Medevac helicopter passing over my house. As I sat at my breakfast table that morning, I didn't understand the significance of the moment. I simply sat and listened to it slowly fade away; but I haven't heard that sound since without thinking about Dave.

Earlier that morning he was running with his buddies. It was a frequent routine. They would talk about their lives, throw verbal jabs, and laugh as they ran. Then they would move on to start a normal day, but this particular day wouldn't be ordinary.

The accident must have happened in the moments just before I heard the helicopter. The driver had been drowsy for a while before falling asleep. His car swerved across the road then onto the shoulder where Dave and Terry Burk ran. Dave, who was running just ahead, was hit first and then violently pushed into Terry.

Those who were on the scene said that the paramedics worked frantically on Dave, while Terry seemed to be in better shape, even standing up on his own. Later, at the hospital, Dave continued to fight for his life when the most surprising news of all came-Terry didn't make it. I began preparing myself to lose two friends, but Dave surprised us all. He fought on like a runner.

The months that followed were harder than anyone should be asked to endure, but he would somehow live through it all. Still, as if the pain wasn't enough, the accident required another unfair sacrifice; Dave would never run again.

I can only imagine how much he must have missed it. And yet, you couldn't tell from being around him. He returned to be the heart and soul of the Westminster Road Runners Club. He directed or helped at nearly every local race and shared the excitement of any running accomplishment that was achieved by a local runner. Dave's effort and passion moves through this running community like blood runs through our veins.

Many mornings, I saw Dave taking a long, brisk walk with his dogs. It didn't matter what the conditions were, Dave's runner's heart brought him out with an inspiring dedication. Even more remarkably, he would compete in many events, usually starting ahead of the runners to avoid making the finish line crew wait for him to finish. I watched many times as Dave pressed to his limits, needing still to get the very best from himself.

Whenever I've seen Dave limping towards me, I've realized that I was watching one of the strongest men I've ever known, and one of the bravest too. And, each time I've wondered if I possess the same incredible endurance that allowed him to survive and succeed through such tragedy. The answer has always been the same-I don't think so.

Now, there's another morning I'll remember with even more sadness. That was the morning I received an e-mail with a title that simply read "Dave Herlocker." I was scared to open it, and it turned out my instinct held true. Dave had passed away quietly in his home.

It seems ironic that a man who fought so hard to live through tragedy would pass on in peaceful sleep. Life really is curious while you're living it.

The curiosities of this life are behind Dave now, just like the pain he's endured. And, if I close my eyes, I can see him smiling as he stands on his old runner's legs. Can you imagine the exhilaration he must feel?

Now, the pain is in those he left behind. For me, it is eased as I imagine what Dave is doing at this very moment. He's with Terry, bringing him up to date on everything new. They're laughing and teasing as they take the longest, fastest, and best run they've ever shared.

Thanks for that compliment, Dave. I'll never forget it. And, if it's not too much trouble, make a note on some future calendar so that we can take a long run together and so that I can return the favor.

Dave Griffin writes a bi-weekly running column and offers coaching to high school and adult runners of all levels. Contact Dave by E-mail