From Brian Carey:
Dave Wurthman was one of my best friends at Milne.  He had a great sense of humor and he was very competitive.  We spent a lot of time playing various sports after school and hanging out together.  It was good to have someone to talk to during those years of change.  I was lucky to have known him and he is missed.

From Keith Sanderson:
THE LAST TIME I SAW DAVE
I was home in the Capital District area visiting my family and called Dave. I had his telephone number because he had called me when he was in the Chicago area a couple of times for training at McDonalds (hamburgers) corporate headquarters. Once I had driven down to the McDonalds Corporate Campus to see Dave. I forget what year that had been, but I know Sienna College had made it to the NCAA Tournament. Another time when Dave was in the area I had invited him to my home and he met my wife Helen and my two children.
       We agreed to meet and have a couple of beers at a bar on New Scotland Ave, I think it was in Delmar. When I walked in the decidedly blue collar establishment there was Dave sitting at the bar. Despite some age and weight it was as if only a short time had passed since we had been together in school. He was sitting at the bar watching a Red Sox baseball game. In no time Dave was explaining to me why he would never go to another Red Sox game. It had nothing to do with the baseball team. It had to do with the City of Boston. And, quite frankly for those who knew Dave well, it was only the kind of incident that could happen to Dave.
       It seems some years earlier he had taken his son and two friends of his son to see a Red Sox Game. At the last minute one of the boys cancelled so Dave had a spare ticket when he arrived at Fenway Park. Not being one to waste anything, Dave sold the ticket to a passerby who happened to be a Boston plainclothes cop.
       Dave  was arrested on the spot for scalping tickets. He told his son to go see the game and he would catch up with he and his friend at the game. Dave was taken to the local precinct station where he was charged with a misdemeanor for selling the ticket, and fined.
       At this point Dave hesitated as he told me the story and then said, What really pissed me off is they wouldnt take a check or credit card for the fine. I had to pay cash! I had just enough cash to pay the fine. Then he exclaimed, And the damn cops wouldn't even give me a ride back to Fenway. I had to walk. By the time I walked back the baseball game was over. Thats why I will never go see another Red Sox Game.
       We laughed at the story. As I laughed I imagined poor Dave trudging from the Police station back to Fenway in that lumbering gait of his as he grew angrier and angrier. That story broke the ice and we were drinking beers, laughing, and telling old stories as if decades had not passed since our youth.
       A few years later my mother called me and told me that a friend of hers who knew Dave's parents had told her Dave had died from a heart attack. I was saddened by the news but in my mind I celebrated the good times we had. Now, whenever I hear the Boston Red Sox mentioned on the Sports news I think of Dave and smile.