Dave Ramsey


Dave and I were friends even though I was the class of 1960.  We  

played varsity football and basketball together, he was my mentor In many ways. 

 After He graduated he worked for the police dept. maybe State Police?

We would ride in his patrol car on the new Wash. beltway that was near 

completion.  He was a star athlete, and a good friend.  Donald DAVIS.  1960



That’s sad news.  Dave was always a cheerful guy.  One memory of him that sticks in my mind was his fondness for Hank Williams’ music.  I remember him showing around a copy of his record “Luke the Drifter.”   Maybe Dave identified with the character. Bob Weidman


Dave was he best athlete at Northwood from 1956-1959. He was a fierce competitor who inspired teammates to raise their level of energy to never give up in the fight to win. He was modest but confident in his ability to play at a superior level. As a retired Navy officer, I know Dave could have been an outstanding military person. Maryland State troopers are very much like successful military personnel in their personality and "can-do" spirit. 

Very Respectfully, Bob McCullah


Dave had the iconic jump shot and was a fierce competitor.  When I heard he had join the police force in Florida I had to look twice.  He was a competitor in many avenues of life in those days.  Sorry to hear of his loss.


John C Grimsley


David Michael Ramsey - (his name was all over my notebook!) - my best friend and boyfriend during junior and senior years at Northwood High School. 

Dave was  a very talented guy.  My memory is that he played Baseball, Football and Basketball at Northwood, was very athletic and good at all sports.  Everyone knew that!  What you may not have known is that he was a very good musician and played the Hawaiian Steel Guitar and the Acoustic Bass and played gigs some evenings.   

Dave and I continued to date for a year or two after graduation, but then our lives went in different directions.  While we did not stay in touch, I cherish many happy memories of our time together, especially while we were students at NHS.  And I always think of Dave every time I see a '57 Ford Convertible, mostly at Antique Car shows these days!

Mary Ellen Edwards Winters


Thanks for sending the sad news of Dave Ramsey’s passing.  I have scores of memories of him, but here’s my favorite:

In the spring of our junior year, I was mired in a batting slump and didn’t have a base hit for three or four games in a row.  At the beginning of the fifth game, against High Point, Dave came up to me and said:  “You’re thinking too hard.  This isn’t math.  It’s baseball.  Just step up to the plate and smack the shit out of the first pitch.”

I hit that pitch right over third base, and the ball rolled and rolled.  I never saw how far it went, but I ran around the bases as fast as I could.  And when I stumbled over home plate, there was Dave to catch me and give me a wink.  “Nice hit, you little turd,” he said.

Ed Cohen


I first learned of Dave's terminal cancer in March of this year when he called to tell me he had been released from the care of the local hospital. I knew he was being treated for cancer so I said "great." Then he told me he was placed in the care of hospice as he was given 4 to 6 months. What a shock. Dave and I would talk every 6 months or so just to touch base. But this changed. I had never experienced knowing that a good friend was dying. How do I handle it? Fortunately the baseball season was about to start so every couple of weeks we would talk - usually during a game (always when the Nat's or O's were playing Tampa - Dave and his wife Ruth live near Tampa.) His spirits and memory were good to the very end. With this experience, I know that it is better to try to stay in contact with someone in this situation.

Dave Ramsey and I were good friends in high school mainly because of our love of baseball. We both played for Northwood and on the same team for a couple of summers. Dave was a superb athlete and earned 8 letters at NHS. He would have been a nine-letter man if he had agreed to pitch in our senior year. We had a new coach, Jerry Sisson, and he was as hardheaded and quite a match for Dave. Dave was our best pitcher and our best catcher and since you can't do both at the same time (although he was fast) Dave decided he wanted to catch and only catch. Coach Sisson wanted him to pitch and when those two heads butted, Sisson won. He may have won the battle but not the war because Dave didn’t play his senior year and we were a much weaker team as a result of Sisson's decision.

During our senior year, Dave taught me how not to hit a curveball. Before a game, we went to DC and had a beer or two or … and then I tried to play baseball - the year Dave didn't play. He got a big kick out of me every time I tried to hit a curve. It's hard enough to hit a curve but a lot harder to hit two or three at the same time. That’s one reason I've never been a beer drinker.

Then there was the time in the summer of '59, just after graduation, Dave and I decided to double-date and take our dates to Beverly Beach. It was an overcast evening and a mist had settled in so the visibility was not the best. Our dates were Mary Ellen Edwards and I took Linnea Ericsson (whom I have been married to for 56 years.) Since the weather was so gloomy, the girls, who knew each other from junior high school, stayed on the beach and talked. Dave and I put on our bathing suits and went in. As you may recall, the bay beaches were shallow all the way out to the "floats." We were on the float and one of us said "let's skinny dip." Since we were the only ones crazy enough to be out there, and we could hardly see the girls on shore, we thought "why not?" After about 10 minutes of skinny dipping, we saw a lone rowboat coming towards us. It was a lifeguard and he was not happy. They threw us out of Beverly Beach so fast we didn’t have time to put our clothes back on. Fortunately, we had already put on our bathing suits. So Williamsburg was not the only place we had the honor of being "thrown out of."

And finally, when I think of Dave, I can't help but think of Red Skelton's Clem Kadiddlehopper and Freddy the Freeloader - we both tried mimicking him.

Dave will be missed.

Ken Simons