On November 17, 2024, Adam drove me to Bush Intercontinental Airport in Houston where I caught a flight to St Louis for a business trip. Adam had just recently moved into the second bedroom of my townhouse, where I still live today.
Eight months prior to that sad November week, Adam Thompson literally saved my life. I was living alone at the time and I became severely ill with e coli poisoning. I find hospitals abhorrent and I was convinced I could 'tough it out'. But five days of that virus left me so weak and dehydrated that on Day 5 - while suffering the most acute pain and lower GI effects of e coli - I slipped on my bathroom floor and I could not get back up. My doctors and I later calculated that I was immobile on that dirty floor for twelve hours. I couldn't reach my phone and my voice was too weak to be heard by any of my neighbors.
So imagine my relief and joy and tears when, after 12 miserable hours, I heard Adam in my garage adjacent to the bathroom. He had stored equipment he used to detail his clients' cars and trucks in my extra garage space and he needed it that morning for a job. Adam poked his head into my kitchen area to say a quick hello and he found me laying there helpless. The rest you probably can imagine if you knew Adam well: he rolled up his sleeves, got me off my back and helped me shower to clean up, warmed a can of lentil soup for me to eat, and poured glass after glass of water for me to drink. Whenever he could step away from my side for a few minutes, "Up and Adam" was downstairs cleaning the bathroom I had made such a mess of. He never uttered one word of complaint or "why me?" and, of course, he remembered to call the client whose car was scheduled for detailing.
Thank you Adam, I love you and miss you terribly. Your legacy of kindness and grace set a powerful positive example for how I want to be with others, and I'm doing my best to live up to it.
David Schmidt
Houston TX
Feb 8 2025