A brief note about Paul Del Valley

I knew Paul Del Valley for about two weeks in 2004. He was one of a handful of people selected in Indiana to participate in a tour of the U.S. east coast through the 4th of July. It was the summer of my Junior-Senior year of high school. I was one of four Indiana delegates.

It is very likely Paul didn’t remember me long afterward. This was an era before Facebook and our passing connection — despite having been in a van for a day of driving from Indianapolis to Philadelphia and back — waned almost immediately afterward. We just didn’t have good ways of staying close.

Photo of Paul Del Valley
Eric in gray in the back, Paul in the front in blue and gold. I don’t remember these two young ladies. This photo was easy for me to find by virtue of it being among the earliest digital photos I have, including from that 2004 trip. I simply had to scroll all the way back and scroll a few rows.

I never really forgot about him, though.

He was one of a few people I remember from that trip, as hundreds of others came together across the U.S. for that excursion. I remember Eric and Dane, but can’t quite recall their last names to look them up.

Paul was bubbly, quick with a smile, and seemed unfailingly kind. Perhaps his rhythmic last name helped me to remember him and look him up.

I learned recently Paul grew up to become a pastor at Colfax Christian Church, a small town in northern Indiana I assume he either moved to for the job or because of some other familial connection. He married and had four kids.

And he died of what must have been a surprising, rapidly growing brain tumor at the age of 38. He died July 19, 2024 according to his obituary.That was 20 years to the month I knew him.

I sometimes wonder if there are people who remember me and I don’t remember them. I mused just last week to myself about all the photos I must appear in that I had no idea was being taken at the time. This post serves no real purpose other than to scratch at this notion and share that I remembered Paul, even when by all odds I probably shouldn’t have. Probably a testament to his personality. I don’t remember him being a particularly religious person at the time. Perhaps he was. In retrospect, it seems sort of obvious he’d have found such a calling.

It goes without saying we were the same age. And he died from the same fate as my mother, also at very nearly the same age.

I do not understand it, and really can’t begin to try despite a significant amount of brainpower having been devoted to this over so many years.


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About JUSTIN HARTER

Justin has been around the Internet long enough to remember when people started saying “content is king”.

He has worked for some of Indiana’s largest companies, state government, taught college-level courses, and about 1.1M people see his work every year.

You’ll probably see him around Indianapolis on a bicycle.

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