Loving man helped us realize what matters

Sam Morris

Daniel Davis sits with his parents, Lynne and John Davis, in their Henderson apartment in November. Daniel Davis, who had fragile X syndrome, died last week of pneumonia at age 23.

By Mike Trask (contact)

Wednesday, Feb. 20, 2008 | 2 a.m.

In November I met Daniel Davis, a 23-year-old mentally disabled man who had been banished from a Henderson bus that took him to the movies or the bowling alley.

Davis, who had fragile X syndrome, lost the public ride to the outings that added so much to his life because his 60-inch waist didn’t fit in the standard seat belt.

The decision left Davis confused. He couldn’t grasp why the bus didn’t pick him up anymore. He still practiced his bowling form in his family’s small apartment, hoping the bus would again stop to pick him up.

That never happened, though, and it never will. Last week, Davis died of pneumonia.

He isn’t leaving behind a legacy of casinos, high rises, heavyweight championships or even the lesser stories that pass for success in Las Vegas — just devastated parents who dedicated their lives to a son who loved them back in his own way, and his favorite person, his older “brudder,” Josh.

“He was just always happy,” his mother, Lynne Davis, said. “He was just one of those people you don’t find.”

Nope, not here, not in a place where excess rules. And so reality is often forgotten here in the desert, where it sometimes seems logical to buy $400 bottles of vodka.

We are a city of the disillusioned, of gamblers and dream chasers. It seems like a romantic notion. Then there’s the reality of what we really are, just another city with the same problems — and a few more — as anywhere else.

Daniel Davis reminded me — just another twenty-something trying to make his rent money in Las Vegas — of what’s really important. It was a reality check and a lesson learned.

Nothing ever came of the story about Davis getting the boot from the bus. Life went on, and the story was sent to the archives.

But he touched my life in the subtlest of ways, reminding me how good I have it with my girlfriend and my pickup truck.

I heard from others who felt the same.

In that way, Daniel Davis did more than most.