David Michael Resnik

Born on Christmas Day, 1947, David Michael Resnik seemed to have a guardian angel watching over him. He entered the world with the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck, survived a fall from a third-story window as an infant into the only cactus without needles, recovered from what doctors described as one of the worst cases of mononucleosis they had ever seen, and walked away from a rollover accident that destroyed his Cadillac convertible. He later served his country as a medic with the 101st Airborne Division in Vietnam from 1969 to 1971 and returned home with an honorable discharge.

Yet, despite surviving so much, David never returned to the family who loved him.

For fifty years, his parents, Annette and Bert Resnik, and his siblings, Eve and Brian, searched for answers. Unknown to them, on February 12, 1976, David's unidentified body had been discovered by a hiker on Kitt Peak in Arizona. Missing person reports had been filed, but no notification ever reached his family.

Then, on April 22, 2026, a remarkable email arrived. The unidentified "Kitt Peak John Doe" was believed to be David. DNA from Eve's son, Kiptyn, was compared to the recovered remains. Within hours, the results confirmed what the family had hoped and feared for half a century: David had finally been found.

While the mystery of his disappearance may never be fully understood, the man David was is remembered clearly.

David was a gentle, compassionate soul whose life's purpose was to help others. As a medic in Vietnam, he saved lives under the most difficult circumstances imaginable. He organized support groups for soldiers struggling with addiction and worked to improve racial understanding during one of the most turbulent periods in American history. His commitment to Buddhism and Eastern spirituality reflected his deep belief in compassion, healing, and the interconnectedness of all people.

He was loved by his family, cherished by his cousins, and treasured by lifelong friends, many of whom shared his experience in Vietnam. Those who knew David remember a man of kindness, integrity, and quiet wisdom.

Today, after fifty years of uncertainty, we are finally able to bring David home.

As we release his ashes, we honor his life with the words of Kahlil Gibran:

"For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun? And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing. And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb. And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance."

Lost from our sight, but never from our hearts.

After fifty years, you are finally home.

We love you, Dave.