“My Former Student and Current Friend”: Remembering David Grove
I was backing out of my driveway, leaving for work, when I heard the report on the radio. A conservation officer in Pennsylvania had been shot in the line of duty.
I immediately thought of David.
But certainly it couldn’t have been him.
I was still a teacher, now at Williamsport High School. Years earlier, David had been my student at Grace Academy. More recently, he had become my friend.
Later that day, my fears were confirmed when his name was announced.
David Grove.
Recently, I read Brittany Myers’s account of David’s life and death. With her permission, I’m sharing excerpts here in italics, alongside my own memories of the young man I knew. Thank you, Brittany, for helping us remember David.
Before we talk about the man who took his life, we need to remember the man Pennsylvania lost.
David Lynn Grove was 31 years old. He was a son, a brother, a friend, and a Pennsylvania Game Commission Officer who had worked for years to earn the badge he wore.
On November 11, 2010, David’s life was taken from him along Schriver Road in Freedom Township, Adams County, while investigating nighttime poaching. He was doing the work he loved.
But David’s story began long before that terrible night.
Buck and Shooter
David’s mother, Lucy, and I became friends when she was the elementary secretary at Grace Academy and I taught English there. She still lives in Pennsylvania, and we remain friends today. Lucy is friendly and easygoing, and her son shared those qualities.
David never met a stranger. He had a quick smile and an even quicker wit. He was kind, helpful, generous, and just plain silly.
So much fun.
David also brought joy into people’s lives. His mother, Lucy, remembered how quickly he could get a quiet room laughing. He loved people, loved sharing stories, and had a playful spirit that his family treasured.
Oh, I remember that playful spirit.
David was in my twelfth-grade speech and composition class during the 1996–97 school year. One of my clearest memories comes from the speech semester, when I assigned a “how-to” speech.
Students needed to explain—and demonstrate, if possible—how to do something. Their audience should understand both how to do it and why anyone would want to.
David and Danny wanted to work as partners, which was an option. Their chosen topic was how to clean a muzzle-loading shotgun.
Our school’s policy on bringing weapons to school—even unloaded ones—was firm. So I suggested they make a video.
They did.
It was fantastic.
They presented themselves as two deer hunters named Buck and Shooter. They donned the worst hick accents you can imagine and, with perfectly straight faces, demonstrated each step of the cleaning process. They also explained why keeping a firearm clean was important.
They fulfilled the assignment beautifully.
They also made us laugh until we hurt.
By the end of the video, tears were running down our cheeks. It was one of the funniest things I had ever seen. And somehow, those two delivered the whole thing without cracking.
Word spread. Every other class in the upper school—grades seven through twelve—wanted to borrow the VHS tape.
Yes, they got an A.
The Student Became My Friend
After graduation, David pursued the work he loved.
His determination was extraordinary. After a workplace accident severely injured his heel, a doctor advised him to choose another profession. David continued pursuing his dream, even attending deputy training with crutches and a walking boot.
He graduated from Grace Academy in Hagerstown in 1997, attended Appalachian Bible College, and earned his wildlife and fisheries science degree from Penn State in 2004. From 2001 through 2007, he served as a deputy conservation officer in Franklin County.
On March 8, 2008, after graduating from the Game Commission’s Ross Leffler School of Conservation, David became a full-time Game Warden assigned to southern Adams County. He had turned his commitment into a career of service.
David and I lost touch after his graduation. Then, in 2009, he found me on Words with Friends.
We were fierce competitors and very well matched. Between turns, we chatted. David was interested in so many things that we always had plenty to talk about.
Through those games and conversations, my former student became my friend.
So when I heard that radio report while backing out of my driveway, David wasn’t simply a student I remembered from years before. He was someone I was still talking with, laughing with, and trying very hard to beat.
Saying Goodbye
Brittany’s account describes the encounter that ended David’s life: while investigating illegal nighttime hunting, he was shot by a man he was attempting to handcuff.
One passage in her account is especially painful to read:
The court record also recounts Johnson telling investigators that he had not shot a police officer, but “just a game warden.” He subsequently said he was distinguishing between the two positions.
David was never “just” anything.
He was a law enforcement officer. He was a person with a family who loved him. His life had value far beyond the authority of his badge.
I got the day off work to attend David’s viewing.
It was sunny but cold, and the line outside the funeral home was long. First responders had come from all over the country. An officer stood watch over David every hour until he was interred.
It was sad and impressive and devastating and joyful—all at once.
David was a born-again believer in his Savior, Jesus Christ. He was ready to meet Him.
We were not ready to let him go.
Especially his family.
There was joy in knowing where David was, but that didn’t erase the sorrow of missing him here.
On November 19, 2010, I wrote on Facebook that I was attending the viewing of “my former student and current friend David Grove.”
“Rest in Peace in the arms of Jesus, my friend,” I wrote. “Praying for comfort for his family.”
I attended both his viewing and his funeral. All these years later, I am still friends with his mom.
For David’s family, the loss reaches far beyond a court case. It is the absence of his laughter, his visits, his stories, and every ordinary moment they should have had together. For his fellow officers, it is the loss of a colleague who understood and shared their calling.
Remembering David
In the years since, there have been a variety of remembrances in David’s honor. Tom and I even ran a 5K in his memory one year.
Brittany closes her account with these words:
We cannot give that future back. We can honor his life, speak his name with respect, and make sure the cruelty that ended it never overshadows the good he brought into this world.
That is why I want to tell you about Buck and Shooter.
Because when I remember David, I remember a classroom full of students laughing until they cried. I remember his quick smile and his even quicker wit. I remember conversations between turns in a game neither of us wanted to lose.
I remember the student who became my friend.
I wish you could have known him.
Excerpts by Brittany Myers, shared with permission. Read her original tribute to David Grove.
