If the Hardcore Punk ethos ever stood for ethics, ideals and changing the world around you starting with oneself than there’s no better example than Dave Stein.
From booking DIY shows, nurturing a scene from the ground up, running a record label, promoting Animal Rights activism and a Vegan lifestyle to having a storied career as an ethical lawyer always championing the underdog. Dave exemplified the transformative power of interpersonal relationships between like-minded peers bound by a just cause.
Dave's recent passing due to lifelong health ailments has left a void in the hearts of countless people he inspired in the scene, in which he led by example, always holding himself up to the highest standards demonstrating that this subculture is more than just music or a weird haircut but a true alternative to conformity and capitulation to society’s force-fed expectations of what a normal life should be.
I asked several of his old friends and siblings to tell a Dave anecdote, there are tons more that could have contributed but for space limitations I’ve kept it to the ones included. In 2016 we interviewed him for the New Breed Documentary, only a short clip made it to the final edit, so I am including the full 19-minute discussion.
The photo of Dave that’s in cover of this article has been made into a memorial shirt, all proceeds going to the Tamerlaine Sanctuary & Preserve (get it here).
Erica Stein: April 2, 1985 - VFW Hall Albany with my brother Dave Stein to see Suicidal Tendencies. I look through old pictures, the relics I have in an old woven basket, I have a photo of me with a poster I got there.
I lived in a boarding school in Schuylerville, New York, and the only positive memories from that time were of going to Albany to stay with my big brother and go to hardcore shows. We would go to Chuck E. Cheese with his friends and bands, and listen to hardcore and Dave would send me away with posters and shirts: Black Flag, Minor Threat, aforementioned Suicidal Tendencies, 7 Seconds, Underdog, Youth of Today, just going off the top of my sad little head.
John Porcelly Paramananda Das (Youth of Today, Shelter, Values Here): I went to college for one year at SUNY Oswego in upstate New York. Youth of Today had just started and I was more interested in stagediving and hardcore than I was in my meteorology and chemistry courses. I had met Dave Stein in Albany the summer before because he graciously booked Youth of Today’s 3rd show at a VFW hall he would rent out on weekends for shows.
Being stuck at college with no punk gigs was miserable for me so practically every weekend I’d take the train to Albany to see whatever gig Dave was putting on that week. During that year Dave had everyone from Suicidal Tendencies to GBH to the Descendents to Agnostic Front to DRI and every band in between.
Not only did I get to see the great shows he booked, but he would let me stay at his apartment for free and would even sneak me into the cafeteria at his college so I could eat. He also let Youth of Today practice for free in his basement and it was there that we wrote a lot of the songs for the Break Down the Walls album.
Sam McPheeters (Born Against, Vermiform): When I think of Dave Stein, I remember his apartment in the mid-1980s, in a building just off Washington Park in Albany, New York. The place reminded me of apartments I’d seen in Eraserhead and Blue Velvet, with hissing radiators and hallways that receded into darkness. His two-room unit was always sweltering. It was in this cramped, hot space that Dave let me explore his record collection (I still associate Antidote, Abused, and SSD with the damp sauna of his living quarters).
I conducted my first fanzine interview on his phone. I remember one winter night at Dave’s when he played an answering machine message from the singer of Youth of Today. They were on tour, in California, at a party with the Uniform Choice guys. We could hear people cavorting in the background and, just for a second, what might have been the splash of a swimming pool. It was already dark in upstate New York, and the windows dripped condensation against the cold night. The recording felt like a privileged communication from a different universe.
Born four years before me, Dave was pre-law at SUNY Albany when I was in high school. Through my junior and senior years, he served as mentor for me and my pal Jason, At the time he was the undisputed king, me and my then-girlfriend used to joke about making him a crown, of the strangely idyllic Albany scene. A scene without fights or drunks, with Chuck E, Cheese post-show after parties. Sometimes our relationship wobbled. We had several serious arguments, and when he scolded me, it was with rank.
Dave left for Fordham School of Law in 1987, the year I graduated high school. My college was three miles downtown from his. After he graduated Dave joined Cravath, Swaine & Moore, one of the top law firms in America. To visit him, I had to travel 41 floors in a furnished elevator larger than my bedroom (listening to Fugazi in the context of his office, with its sweeping vista of lower Manhattan, felt as illicit as listening to GG Allin).
The first two records on my fledging label were released as splits with Dave’s label, Combined Effort. We were two of the four owners of Reconstruction Records in the East Village. When I told Dave I wanted to name the place Uranus Records, his reply was a long look of extreme displeasure.
Roger Miret (Agnostic Front): My favorite Dave Stein story and the one that always comes to mind, don’t think too many people know, is when The Clash was touring behind that Cut the Crap album and they were playing up in Albany. Dave met them at the show, he was really excited, they were his heroes. He randomly asked them what they were doing the next day, they were like; "we’re not doing anything."
He actually invited them to come to his house for dinner and sure enough a giant tour bus pulls up right in front of his house and The Clash pops over for dinner. I’m a huge fan of The Clash and I was always amazed he had them over. That’s the essence of Dave always offering something, being genuine and he always loved telling me that story, especially when it came to food, he would say, "at least I had The Clash over for dinner!"
Kate (Kindlon) Reddy (108): My first memory of Dave is seeing him in Washington Park in Albany, his head was shaved, he had on red converse and a white Albany Style shirt. I knew who he was. Dave was already known in the scene, and I was genuinely excited like I was seeing someone famous. The path, which is still there and which I walk down regularly, always reminds me of Dave.
Back in the hardcore days certain clothing choices and hair styles, and definitely tattoos, were like an underground calling cards. We marked our identities with such things. He had three boxes checked, hair, Converse, t-shirt because this was pre-tattoo Dave Stein. We only said hi, but there was definitely a connection made in that moment and I knew we would be friends.
Shortly thereafter, I became a committed member of the great 1980s Albany hardcore scene, which was largely orchestrated and organized by Dave. Playing frisbee in the park, or going to Chuck E. Cheese's to jump in the balls (I hope you know what I mean) and just generally terrorize families and small children by our presence and strange appearances; these were just as important as going to shows, shows which he organized.
When Dave left for NYC to attend Fordham Law, we tried to carry on the spirit of DIY community building that he taught us. A positive-youth, DIY community based hardcore scene, where you could be smart, academic, fully counter cultural and also get tattoos? Sign me up! I committed. He also introduced me to the idea that vegetarianism was a punk ideal and that it was livable. I listened to what he had to say. The effect of this ideology echoes through the hardcore halls today and generations of kids benefitted from this too, my own kids included.
Dave taught me about music, and taught me to dedicate myself to music with every fiber of my being. Black Flag, Dag Nasty, Decendents, Warzone, Agnostic Front, 7 Seconds, and more obscure bands that I would never have heard of without Dave: Stalag 13 being one the best and most memorable; ‘black and gray, that's the way I feel....’ From Dave I learned to deeply love music and to invest in it as a lifestyle. It became the basis of all the other things that followed in my life history; things that matter to me deeply to this day, almost 40 years later.
Jimmy G (Murphy’s Law): Dave has always put his friends and the scene before anything else he was always there for advice knowledge and support anytime anyone needed it no matter what. A lot of people throw around I got your back Dave actually did have your back no matter what.
He was one of a kind and all the time being kind. I miss him dearly.
Jason O’Toole (poet, Life’s Blood): Growing up in a city with several colleges and universities, with parents and grandparents connected to the music and art scenes, we were exposed to a variety of experiences. In third grade I was playing Patti Smith records (mostly “Pissing in a River” for the naughty word), and attempting to read Burroughs and Kerouac.
Before I reached high school, I had caught performances by more artists than I can recall: Dizzy Gillespie, The Chieftains, Pete Seger, U2, Herbie Hancock, Burning Spear, Peter Gabriel, and Talking Heads. I was soon tagging along with local college kids and Punk band members I befriended at vintage clothes and record shops, to basement and bar gigs of Sonic Youth, Meat Puppets, and the Albany bands that supported them, Capital, The Verge, The Plague, Lumpen Proles, and many others who should have been bigger, but had the misfortune of being from “Smallbany.”
Enter Dave Stein.
The drinking age in NY was upped to 21, and all of the sudden, doormen were posted to check our fake IDs. We couldn’t get into as many gigs, and I missed The Replacements playing a set of AC/DC covers and pissing on their amps in a tiny upstairs bar on Central Avenue, as well as shows by X, The Clash, and many others who were playing bigger shows that I simply couldn’t afford or were on school nights.
Dave’s ‘Futile Effort’ shows were “4 Bands, 4 Bucks.” That almost as much as I made an hour working my string of part-times. After going to my first Hardcore Punk show, I was helping carry records for Dave to his radio show on WCDB around the corner from my house, making fliers and phone calls to bands for all-ages shows, that were soon renamed Combined Effort, as Dave recognized that it took all of our efforts to make a scene as active as ours became.
Elisa Stein: Thanks so much for including me. I’m his older sister: Dave was a lover of tattoos. His generally represented the parts of his life he was most passionate about: his rescue Pitbull Sampson, his hardcore record label, his admittance to law review, his commitment to ethical veganism.
He got tattoos back in the day when they weren’t so ubiquitous, making permanent, powerful statements about beliefs that resonated so deeply for him. I was not a tattoo lover but Dave wanted to gift me one as a thank you for his new kidney and as many know, Dave was hard to say no to. We visited tattoo shops in the village, talked to artists, he had someone come and photograph us at the final tattoo shop—he knew people. The tattoo was a compilation of symbols and words that helped me through that life changing, lifesaving, and sometime harrowing journey. Dave never got another tattoo.
Post-transplant anti-rejection drugs made him more prone to infection so he refrained but celebrated all of mine as he opened the door for me to love ink and permanent statements. I just got my 10th, to celebrate him. I’d considered asking him his opinion of what to get in his honor but never wanted to suggest for a moment that he wouldn’t be here. And then I got a photo from one of his best friends—Dave wearing a colander on his head. It was for his court ID.
He insisted it was religious headgear as a ‘Pastafarian’ and he battled until the court agreed to let him use it. And I realized that that was exactly what his tattoo should be: something ridiculous and silly that also embraced his spirit, his fierce fighting ability, and his innate ability to make people smile and feel good. His positive mental attitude shone through as he shined his bright light on the communities and people he loved.
Mike Page: I grew up in Western MA. Albany was the closest place for shows so I'd drive there on weekends. Dave was the first person I interacted with. He was immediately welcoming and accepting despite me being a newcomer out-of-town punk with a mohawk in a predominantly Youth Crew scene. When Dave announced he was looking for someone to design a cover for a compilation EP I offered to do it.
My graphic abilities were quite limited at the time but I brought a potential layout to a show a week later and it became the cover art for the Albany Style 7". Dave left for school in NYC soon after and would let me crash at his place when I came down for matinees before I ended up moving there myself. His big heart and passion will be sorely missed.
Adam O’Toole (Intent, Factory): Growing up in the '80s in Albany, New York would have been a different experience without Dave Stein. There probably would have been all-ages hardcore shows, but I’m they wouldn’t have had the magic that Futile Effort Productions and Combined Effort Productions brought. Dave clearly cared about the music, the musicians and the whole scene, and wanted to share that with everyone he could.
The second show I went to back then was Suicidal Tendencies at the Albany VFW. I think it was in 1985, I would have been 14. That was a Futile Effort Productions show, the sound was good, the crowd was electrified, and I went home with a ST tour poster.
It was incredible being part of something that was by the youth, for the youth. Not much later, my brother Jason and Sam McPheeters started helping out with shows. The crew became known as Combined Effort. I remember Dag Nasty’s tour mini school bus pulling up at my house in ‘86 to stay over with us. It was neat for me, being barely 15, to get introduced to the band. They came back in 1987, for their 288 Lark show (Combined Effort Productions) which was fantastic. My parents readily let us have them stay over again—Uniform Choice didn’t get invited back, but Dag Nasty were great houseguests and good company.
From that trip I remember my dad teaching [Dag Nasty guitarist] Brian Baker banjo and lending him his best acoustic guitar, the band recording a video of a sit-down practice session in my brother’s bedroom (hi, Glynis!), and having practically the whole scene over, including Dave Stein, for a low key party and sleepover after the show. That was the first time I really got to meet Dave.
He was having just as much fun as anyone else, was polite to a fault, and I’m sure let my mom try out some Enchanted Broccoli Forest vegetarian recipes on him. I got to hang out with him a few more times before he finished up at SUNYA and moved back downstate. I remember dropping by his Washington Park area efficiency apartment with my brother and a whole stack of hardcore punks to watch The Great Rock and Roll Swindle. I think Bessie Oakley (BYO) was there.
I dropped by later on my own to listen to the Bad Brains ROIR cassette, check out his record collection and chat. I remember his IBM PC jr was dialing MCI long distance PINs, which would be output on a dot matrix printer for visiting bands to grab. He was the quintessential smart Hardcore Punk. I think I took after him a little bit, I’d soon to be logging on to the Factsheet Five BBS to annoy older punks and learn a little about original hacker culture. And, of course, I met Samson the vegan Pit Bull at after-show gatherings at his South Albany flat.
Dave set the bar pretty high for Albany shows. The bills were varied. He was one of the first hardcore promoters to book The Rhythm Pigs, NoMeansNo, and Victims Family. They’d be sharing bills with straight edge NYHC and Boston TAANG! Records bands. He also booked Crucial Youth, I remember them swinging around the Youth Brush at 288 Lark. So many good memories, and he was a part of or facilitated so many of them.
Kevin Egan (Beyond, 1.6 Band): It was 7pm on a Friday night and we were stuck in traffic on the Cross Bronx Expressway. You weren’t going anywhere Friday 7pm on the Cross Bronx Expressway, especially in 1988. The city had bigger problems to deal with: rape, murder and other violent crimes that happened as frequently as hot dogs and pretzels being sold on the sidewalk. “Dave Stein’s gonna be pissed.” It was the first time I heard his name.
We were doing a three-day tour of Albany, Buffalo, and Cleveland with Project X. The Albany show was supposed to be Beyond, Life’s Blood, Project X, and Warzone. We got into an accident earlier that day down the block from Walter Schreifels’ home in Queens. Vic DiCara was driving and smashed into a IROQ of all the things. You can imagine who was driving such a vehicle. IN QUEENS!
After dealing with that bullshit, we had to stop at Porcell and Alex Brown’s apartment in Williamsburg, then had to pick up Luke Abbey and his drums in Brooklyn. It was the day before my 18th birthday and my first introduction to the power of the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway. After picking up Luke, we pulled onto the BQE and put the van in “park”, since traffic wasn’t going to move anytime soon. It was 7pm when we finally made it to the Cross Bronx. “Dave Stein’s gonna be pissed.”
I was young and wet behind the ears and got nervous whenever I heard someone might be pissed. The people in hardcore were tough motherfuckers, so I didn’t know what to expect. My first mental picture of Dave was of a big, violent dude who could fuck all of us up. You never knew. We got to the American Legion Hall in Albany. Warzone was still on stage. “Porcell, you do this to me every time one of your band plays!” this guy in a Champion sweatshirt, much like the sweatshirts the rest of the Youth Crew guys were wearing, said as he came storming into the parking lot. Oh shit, I thought. There’s gonna be an altercation.
Porcell and this guy, who I started to realize was Dave Stein, argued for another 10 minutes. Dave told Porcell the headliner was playing and there was no way anyone else was hitting the stage. Since we were just a bunch of kids, Porcell told Dave to forget Project X, but he should let Beyond play. He agreed. We played to a small crowd, then after, we all convened at Dave’s apartment. In his kitchen, he and Porcell recounted the argument and laughed about how serious it was. Wait, I thought. Were they joking the whole time? I didn’t know.
The difference was clear to me though. We were kids and the people in the kitchen were adults. There were a good 15 to 20 people sleeping in Dave’s living room that night. Throughout the night, Samson, Dave’s vegetarian pit bull, was patrolling the grounds, stepping on your back and grunting and snorting letting you know you better behave yourself. It was my first time in the presence of a pit bull, so I remained silent and still, hoping he approved of my behavior and moved on.
We played a few more shows in Albany before Dave finally moved to the city. After a show I believe he set up at the Pyramid Club, we spent the night at his apartment where he showed off his new Fordham Law tattoo. “Who gets a Fordham Law tattoo?” he laughed. We all responded, “No one!” because in 1988, no one was getting a Fordham Law tattoo.
Originally, the Beyond LP was supposed to be released on Schism Records, but since Porcell was busy with Youth of Today and Alex had joined Gorilla Biscuits, the label folded, leaving us with a two-inch reel of our album and no one to release it. Then we broke up. Still, Dave Stein agreed to release the album on his label he started with Steve Reddy, Combined Effort. It was at the Anthrax when I ran into Dave and he screamed “I have records for you!”, as he handed me two boxes full of Beyond records and apologized for taking so long to release it. I told him he was crazy. The fact that he released it after we broke up was a testament to what an amazing person he was.
I ran into Dave a year or two later at Reconstruction Records on the Lower East Side. 1.6 Band found a home at ABC No Rio and two of the friends we met there, Freddy Alva and Charles Maggio, were running a volunteer-run record store. It turned out Dave was involved in the “reconstruction."
I saw Dave periodically at shows. His face was one you loved to see, knowing he had funny stories to tell, mostly related to the hardcore scene, since he was still deeply involved. He would also fill me in on his life as a lawyer in the music industry. I had friends who were starting to play music professionally, all of whom negotiated their contracts through Dave, so I knew they were going to be well taken care since he was involved.
Freddy Alva (Urban Styles: Graffiti in New York Hardcore): I met Dave in 1987 hanging out at Some Records and from the get go he was someone that radiated knowledge in a non-condescending fashion but with an eagerness to help you in any way he could. I took advantage of this by getting pointers on how to start a record label, how to transition to Vegetarianism and later on he helped me & some friends to open a record store that was coincidentally a few doors away from the old Some Records location.
After reconnecting in the early aughts, I remember a memorable excursion we took on a snowy December day in 2009 to see Scream reunite in Washington, DC. I knew he was always undergoing painful health related issues but in true Dave fashioned he chaperoned us, blasting one classic HC jam after another, all the while telling his patented puns and hilarious one liners.
The music, friendship and common goal of this pilgrimage are the hallmarks of Dave’s life showing us that a combined effort benefits the whole. Thank you Dave for your example, compassion, friendship and most of all; sharing your heart.
Adam Nathanson (Life’s Blood, Born Against): I was reminded at the funeral a few weeks ago that Dave and I had the same birthday and the same Krishna karma tattoo of the human and cow figures with the axe on our bicep. Also both lifelong straight edge. We really bonded on animal rights, and it brought out confrontational, passionate behavior in us.
In the late ‘80s, when Dave moved to Astoria to attend Fordham Law, the movement was in full swing, and Trans-Species Unlimited promoted radical tactics that we embraced. After weekly winter Saturday anti-fur protests in Midtown, we were encouraged to fan out in pairs and harass fur wearers. Dave and I managed to get into dozens of shouting and shoving matches with rich people, guidos, and guidettes who could never have imagined when they left the house for a day of shopping that two berzerk hardcore kids would absolutely ruin their day.
Dave’s acerbic wit raised the level of these dustups even more. If someone brought up the practicality of wearing leather since the cow’s going to be killed anyway, he’d shout,”Using an animal for TWO perverse purposes doesn’t make it better!” After those rowdy afternoons, he and I would recount a play-by-play of all our harassment and zingers and congratulate each other.
When I first moved back up here in 2019, we reconnected over vegan burritos at that cool park above the street on the Fordham Manhattan campus. Without complaining, he ran down all the bodily levels, meters, and devices he needed to check to stay alive as they dinged every few minutes. Dave felt a little disappointed that though he’d originally put out my first band, Life’s Blood when I was 19, we’d gone with Prank Records for a recent re-release. He shared with Ken at Prank that Life’s Blood was one of the things he was proudest to be associated with.
Right before Xmas, when I suddenly got fired from the Prisoner Reentry Institute at John Jay College, just 4 short months after that lunch with Dave, my life looked like it was going to fall apart for sure. I called Dave as soon as I regained composure and we went over my crisis management options for hours. I am still standing. So proud and grateful to be associated with you too, Dave. Thank you.
Jason O’Toole: Dave was never afraid to speak his mind, and in turn, we were empowered to stand up to shitty behavior that threatened the scene. No matter if it were Gang Green using the “N word” on stage, a local band stupidly putting a Swastika on their shirt, or some under the influence trying to get into the show, we would call it out without even thinking about repercussions.
We knew the whole scene would have our back in those moments, and often, people apologized for their actions and learned from it. Violence was rare to nonexistent in those days. That was the Dave Stein effect. There’s much more to say about Dave and my collaborations with him, (he put out my first and best known record) but others will share their memories that will overlap with my own.
Dave showed a bunch of neurodivergent, awkward, high achiever weirdos how to get along despite living in our heads, and how to form a community. That I still know many of the same folks decades later, and have built and revived DIY communities, such as the Merrimack Valley poetry scene, is testament to the influence of Dave Stein on my life.
Sam McPheeters: Between 1985 and 1990, I changed immensely. Dave, proudly, never changed. From his Facebook page: “If you knew me when I was 20 I’m pretty much the same person now. Hardcore music, vegan food. Jeans and sneakers to work. Terribly opinionated, very judgmental."
He was always open about his many serious medical issues, but I don’t remember us talking about it much. It was always know that Dave was going to accomplish as much as he’d overcome. And he’d overcome a lot.
Dave Stein was a formative part of my life during a formative period of my life. I remain grateful that he ever took an interest in me. I was then, and remain now, proud to have known him.
Kate (Kindlon) Reddy: I would like to acknowledge that every single good thing that ever happened in my life grow from the roots of those early days, of which Dave was the planter and the cultivator. Building community, loving people for who they are, never giving up on your ideals; these were all Dave things. He was truly a good man, a mentor, sometimes a royal pain in the ass, and still we loved him and continue to appreciate everything he gave us.
He was a genre maker, a revolutionary; utterly righteous and I will always be grateful for him as a friend and mentor. We love you Dave. You will live forever in our hearts and minds.
John Porcelly Paramananda Das: Dave was a great guy. He cared about hardcore and human rights and straight edge and tried to walk the talk by being kind, accommodating and open hearted to everyone. He was a friend and an inspiration of someone who could make something out of nothing with some passion and hard work. There’s not many people around today with the integrity that he had. He was one of the good ones and he’ll be missed.
Adam O’Toole: It was nice to get back in touch with him years later and learn about what a storied career he had in music law while also living an intensely ethical life, yet maintaining an incredible sense of humor. Dave was very likely the toughest guy—where it actually counts—that I have ever known.
When I had my own cancer crisis, I thought of how hard he fought for his life as a child, as a teenager, as a young adult and as a man. I never told him any of this, but five months into chemotherapy when the side effects became nearly too much, I just thought of his perseverance and pushed through. PMA. He was truly one of the best people I have ever known. I’m sad that he is gone, but I will celebrate his life and remember his example forever.
Kevin Egan: When I think of the word “positivity," at least in hardcore context, I think of Dave first and foremost. He was always smiling and always working with that positive aesthetic towards whatever goal he was looking to achieve. I only found out later about his connection to 7 Seconds, the most positive band in the history of music. Had I known when I was a kid that he was so tight with them early on, I would’ve hounded him with questions.
Lucky for me and most lucky for him,, I was ignorant of that information. Looking back, without Dave, the Beyond LP would’ve been lost and forgotten. That much is clear. For that I’m forever grateful, though I’m much more grateful for the shows he put on, the conversations and laughs we had and the memories he helped create. He was absolutely one of the most seminal figures in my early hardcore days and was one of the adults I knew was heading in the right direction and you felt lucky to even get a glimpse of his shining star.
Erica Stein: Thanks to my brother I am alive today, where so many I know aren’t because of drugs and alcohol. I fully embraced his Straight Edge ethos, and while earlier in my life I did have a period of some poor choices- ultimately I have spent well more than half my life now living with no alcohol, tobacco or recreational drugs. I also believe all animals are deserving of the same respect, not just the ones our cultures dictate as worthy of life, such as cats and dogs.
I love all animals, and none get the exception of being the one I am going to eat. My brother got me on that track very early on. Like my brother; had an illness early in life. We had this commonality I don’t wish on anyone, but it was an attitude of; ‘well we really got a shit deal but we persevere’ that he impressed upon me often. I would not have gotten this far without Dave Stein - hardcore punk lawyer, encapsulation of a truly divine human being, my big brother.
I always looked up to him, and wanted to be like him, as a child. Guess I was a smart kid. I now carry his memorial card with me wherever I go, and I am a living part of my brother still. I have the same baby face, our shared tenacity to fight against adversity, and he is dwelling in my heart.
To quote Bad Brains, “I and I Survive." I’ll keep pushing forward, Dave Stein would want it no other way, love you so much big bro.
Love always, Kid
May we always remember the things you did, the things you said and the things you stood for, When we do we become better people. Love always, the scene.
Dave Stein (11/25/65- 8/31/23)