David Mark Reddy

David Mark Reddy left his earthly body unexpectedly on September 13, 2025, giving us a surprise ending to a life that was rich with beautiful and wild stories. He would have liked you to know that every tale you've heard about him was most likely crazier than what you were told.

David was born August 10, 1948 to Beatrice Grace Swenson and Michael Malachi Martin Reddy, in Humboldt, CA, the youngest brother to Michael Patrick Reddy, and Dennis Paul Reddy. Even from the womb, David refused to adhere to conventions, and made his entrance into this world earlier than planned during a family roadtrip, forcing an unexpected pitstop for his delivery: a perfect start for a man born to be a legend.

Raised in Laguna Canyon, David was struck with polio and paralyzed at age 4. He relied on friends and family to carry him, and credits that time as the source of his unwavering belief in the good of people. While confined to bed, he used his time to learn reading, writing and rascality, in preparation for when he could walk again, which came 16 months later.

He seems to have spent the next 72 years making up for those 16 months of paralysis.

He got his first real job at age 10, which involved - but was not limited to - tricking tourists into leaving Laguna Beach by giving them faulty directions. He spent the majority of his childhood sneaking wild animals into his bedroom, pretending to drown in the ocean to "test" the lifeguards, and creating elaborate hoaxes. (He once built a raft out of logs, wore his shabbiest clothes, and launched the raft at dawn from a secret spot - timing it so he'd wash ashore on the busiest beach, claiming he'd been "lost at sea" for weeks. He was 11.)

David's mind was truly extraordinary: equal parts student and inventor. His love of nature and wildlife started early, working with his lifelong mentor and friend, naturalist Peter Ott. His family had little money, and nature was his playground and his science lab. He brought home bobcats and falcons the way other kids brought home goldfish. David somehow sat still long enough to attend Laguna Beach High School, but adventure soon called, resulting in the wildest life imaginable, and a little time spent in the pokey. He was criminally ahead of his time, and was imprisoned for developing and distributing substances now embraced and touted by leading thinkers and neighborhood dispensaries.

After years living life on the edge between hippie, adventurist and outlaw, in 1977 David's life was forever changed for the best when he walked into a Santa Barbara bakery and met the love of his life, Nora, who then introduced him to her daughter, Celeste. Of all of David's stories, this is the one he would want most told: the story of his love for his family. Soon daughter Sara made the family of four complete, and David gave his wild heart over to the love of his three girls. He was, simply put, the best dad and husband imaginable: patient, full-hearted and a steady force of kindness.

In the last few decades, David was more softie than swashbuckler. He built his own home in his beloved Shelter Cove, a perfect place for a peaceful ex-pirate. Most recently, he took on a new adventure, living in the mountains of Southern California, making sure he visited anyone and everyone he could. He spread love (and gifts of fresh papaya) everywhere he went.

It would be understandable if all of us tricked ourselves into believing David was immortal. After successfully surviving polio, tuberculosis, tick fever, west nile virus, multiple falls from tall trees, storms at sea, prison sentences, a broken neck, and an almost fatal intestinal mishap with a chicken bone courtesy of a taco truck, David's body finally succumbed when his car left the road and landed in a perfectly majestic spot in the redwood forest. A lifelong storyteller, David created for us a poetic bookend for his life: he died, prematurely and unexpectedly, only miles from where he was born, also prematurely and unexpectedly. His story began and ended on a roadtrip, with a fortuitous (and this time, eternal) stop.

If Dave were here to tell the story, he would have a twinkle in his eye over how wild and beautiful it all was.

David fed foxes and raccoons out of his hand. He kept the keys to his car on his passenger seat, trusting people and the universe. He told jokes to strangers. He protested in the streets up until his final moments. He taught his daughters to build things with their hands and to trust themselves. He stayed best friends with his ex-wife. He never, ever stopped being curious. He loved and forgave everyone.

David leaves behind the love of his life, the incomparably beautiful Nora Sheldon; his two perfect daughters, Celeste Myers and Sara Reddy; his treasured sons-in-law, Eric and Todd; his grandchildren who enchanted him endlessly, Ian, Kenna and Bailey; and his mental match and brother, Rich Muirhead. He is predeceased by his beloved brothers Pat, Dennis, and Skip.

A true hippie and minimalist, Dave leaves behind very few material items, but an extraordinary legacy of a life lived intentionally. Dave would not want us to mourn him. He would want us to tell naughty jokes, to body surf in the ocean, to pick fights with billionaires, to protect the marginalized, and to live in wonder and awe of our precious planet. For all of his mischief, he was always hopelessly conscientious.

As Dave's hero, Thoreau, said, "All good things are wild and free." We would like to think Dave is now truly wild and free, and living on through the love and lessons he gave us all. Let us all raise a slice of papaya to toast a most extraordinary life.

A celebration of life will be held in Shelter Cove in spring.