My Brother’s Keeper
This is a story about Dave.
Dave (Dimples) Niediewski, my brother’s best friend, the best man at his wedding, his son’s godfather, and a recovering alcoholic just like my brother. The last time I talked to him was about nine, ten years ago, and that was only to let him know about my brother’s passing. In fact, one of the last conversations I had with Kirk was about Dave.
The beach incident left a profound mark on all of us that day, but none more than Dave. It had been the four of us, my brother, his wife to be, myself, and Dave, as we piled into the car and headed out for Matagorda Beach with a fat joint passing between us. Twenty minutes later we were ankle deep in that soft sugar sand drinking our ice cold beer.
Small inlets had formed on the beach as I watched the small children get pulled down the shoreline on their boogie boards towards the ocean. The choppy waves erased the horizon line as I peered out at the murky Gulf waters. It was another Texas scorcher, and although that voice inside my head warned against it, I needed to cool off a bit, if only but to wade up to my knees for a little relief.
I was a strong swimmer. I grew up on the beach, knew how to navigate the ocean, what to do, what not to do, and the same went for my brother and his fiancée, but Dave, not so much. I knew it was a bad day to go out, but I was buzzed, and hot, and excited about the size of the waves crashing ashore. We wanted to do some body surfing and teach Dave the art of the sport. We managed to stay together for about ten minutes or so. I think I caught one, maybe two waves before I decided to call it quits. It was too much of a struggle and I was wearing out way too fast. I looked around for the others and noticed we had all drifted pretty far apart from each other.
I continued struggling, fighting the waves and swimming against the current but the shoreline kept moving away from me. My big toe barely made contact with the ocean bottom and I swam even harder, kicking, flailing, getting nowhere as the rip current sucked me out to sea.
I’m in trouble! Big trouble! I’m going to drown out here! I’m panicking! Quit panicking. The voice of reason. Finally, the voice of reason took over. Instinct, all those years of experience finally kicking in. I relaxed my body and floated with the waves until I was able to catch my breath. swim a little to the right, rest, let the waves bring you in, swim parallel, rest, catch a wave, there it is.
By the time I made it to shore the car was barely visible. I jogged down the beach only to find a distraught Carrie looking out towards the ocean. She and Kirk had watched me make it to shore after they themselves struggled out of the rip current, but Dave was still out there. Way out there. His dark hair bobbed under the water, he’d disappear for a few seconds and then pop back up as he drifted further and further out to sea. My brother was still out there as well trying to make his way towards his best man. Once he reached him…
well, to be honest, I couldn’t actually remember what happened. I’d been in a panic asking random strangers on the beach for a rope. My friend is drowning! We need a rope! An ambulance appeared down the beach but it stopped before reaching our position. I always figured my heroic brother rescued him and pulled him to safety, and maybe that’s how Kirk remembered it too.
Years later when Kirk died, Dave sent me a letter. He’d moved to Seattle a few years back and was unable to attend my brother’s funeral—the one person I needed to see the most. I’ve held on to that letter for about ten years now. Upon writing this story, I decided to pull it back out. I seemed to recall that Dave himself had written about the incident, and I guess he would know better than anyone what actually happened that day. Here’s his version, an excerpt from that letter:
“I want to share so many stories of our time together but I will keep it simple with the only one that can summarize how much Kirk meant to me personally. I know for a fact that Lindsay was there as witness. My memory is a little fuzzy but I think Gwen was there as well.
It was an extremely hot and humid (isn’t it always?) day on Galveston beach. We had decided [to go] the night before on an impulse. We took the Boilver ferry to the secluded island Beach and were there all day. At some point I was pulled out by the strong undertow and had been fighting it for what seemed an eternity when Kirk noticed I was in despair. He could see that I was in serious trouble because I couldn’t even breathe enough to yell for help over the noise of crashing waves. Kirk came running into the water to save me just as I was about done with my goodbyes to the world. He got close enough for me to warn him not to come out any further knowing it would probably drown him as well. The look on his face was one I will never forget. It was the look of a friend that was ready to risk his own life knowing I was twice his size and weight in a strong current. No energy left I kicked my feet down one last time to find ground I was sure was not there. A Miracle, and I do mean Miracle happened, I found the ground that was not there five seconds before, allowing me to escape certain doom. I was blessed that the Miracle happened but I know for a fact that Kirk would have sacrificed himself for me without a doubt.
To this day I have not been in the ocean since then for two reasons, I used up all of my Miracles and I don’t expect to come across too many people willing to do what Kirk was that day. When I remember Kirk from this moment forward it will be of the willingness to do the selfless act of a hero that day.”
A couple of years before the incident, I watched Dave get baptized alongside my brother. He began attending church every Sunday, reading his bible, and attending AA meetings. I watched him relapse, a lot. I found out on Facebook last summer that Dave died of a massive heart attack back in May of 2025. On some level, it felt like losing my brother all over again. I needed to know that he’d held onto his faith. I needed to know that he’d held on to God and that God, Jesus, held on to him. I scrolled through his Facebook page and found a recent post proclaiming his ten year anniversary date of sobriety. That was all I needed to hear. He’s up there. I know he’s up there. My brother, reunited with his Best Man.
Side Note:
Dear Dave,
It was, in fact, Matagorda Beach and Gwen was not there. You were thinking of another beach trip that we took with Gwen to Galveston, but that’s another story.
John 10:27 – 30 KJV
My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me:
And I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand.
My Father, which gave them me, is greater than all; and no man is able to pluck them out of my Father’s hand.
I and my Father are one.
