David A. R. Browall

David Andrew Russell Browall died tragically at the age of 25, in a camper van fire during the early hours of the morning on Saturday, May 3rd, 2025. Born in Auburn, NH on June 3rd, 1999, to Kate and Michael Browall, David was, at his core, the very personification of summer. He was light and warmth, the comforting breeze of a rolled down Chevy Truck window, the mischievous smile of summertime antics, and the relaxing contentment of nights surrounded by friends; a cold bottle in one hand, and a smoke of choice in the other.

A person is more than a sequence of life events, more than the hard times that affect them, and David was no different. He was beautifully flawed, and while life wasn’t always easy for him, he was the kind of man you’d want in your corner. By simply walking into a room the space would transform into somewhere gentle, somewhere safe. Animals loved him, intrinsically sensing his heart of gold in a way that only animals can. Childhood photos show David blanketed by the many family pets, proof of the mutual fondness between himself and the animals around him. He will always be remembered for his kindness and polite, helpful spirit. Growing up, he was his mom’s “go-to guy,” always there to help without question. He may have given her a few grey hairs and mild heart attacks by virtue of being a young boy, but his openhearted service to others was exactly what every single mother needs. David was the rare kind of person who was always there when you needed him. Your car could be broken down in the middle of the night, 50 miles west of nowhere in the freezing rain, and David would be there with you; head under the hood, getting that thing up and running again.

A precocious child, there wasn’t much David picked up that he didn’t immediately succeed at. From woodworking with his uncle and late grandpa to rebuilding old trucks with his brothers, Patrick and Mike, in his mid-teens, he was always tinkering with something. Reminders of his creativity survive in the welded “little men” metal sculptures in his mom’s house, under the hood of every car he ever fixed, between the strokes of childhood drawings of dragons, and captured in his floral photography. Whether it be Legos or a new carpentry project, put it front of David, and he’d have it figured out faster (and more skillfully) than anyone else. His “jack of all trades” nature extended to outdoor sports like dirt biking and 4-wheeling, slinging stuffed burgers on the grill, and filling the bellies of those close to him with artery clogging fried food combinations worthy of any county fairground.

Like many other boys who grew up in the early ‘aughts, video games featured regularly in David’s free time; and for preteens of the 2010s, Guitar Hero was THE game to play. Quintessential songs of past rock n’ roll greats (interspersed with the occasional THWANG of a missed note followed by colorful swears) were learned and admired through plastic guitar-shaped controllers. Days spent with friends and Guitar Hero meant hours of young laughter intertwined with “Cherry Pie” and “Sweet Home Alabama” being carried upstairs to his mother’s ears.

While growing up, summertime meant family trips to Headacre Camp in Jaffery. It was here David learned how to swim and made the kind of memories that you don’t realize will become core parts of you. Not until you look back on them years later. His siblings fondly remember days baking in the summer sun while fishing; sister Victoria piercing a hook through the wriggly, gummy bodies of worms, before casting the line. Nights around the campfire while roasting marshmallows and laughing in that carefree way that children do before the jagged edges of adulthood take hold, lending a sense of disquietude to all peace filled moments.

As an adult, David worked as a free-lance mechanic using the skills he learned from his older brother Mike, one of the other mechanics in the family. Despite the irony found in his lack of a driver’s license, he channeled his resourceful nature by loading up his backpack with as many tools as humanly possible and took his electric scooter where he needed to go. As a young man, David briefly stepped into the shoes of fatherhood for his ex-stepdaughter. This period of David’s life was one of his happiest, allowing his nurturing soul to shine, but when it came to an end, David pulled back into himself. But even in the darkness in which he found himself afterward, there remained that intrinsic light of love and kindness that always emanated from within him.

When a young life is cut so tragically short, it seems impossible that the world can still move on, that the Earth still spins around the sun. How could it; when the brightness that was David is no longer here? Think of David and take comfort from the wisdom of his favorite book, Eragon by Christopher Paoloni, “Live in the present, remember the past, and fear not the future, for it doesn’t exist and never shall. There is only now.”

David is preceded in death by his grandfather, Lee A. Parry, and his grandmother Susan Fellows. Surviving him are his loving parents; two brothers, Patrick, and Mike Browall with his partner Danielle McFall and their daughter Maizy; sister Victoria; and many, many more family members and loved ones.

For those who wish to honor his memory, a Celebration of Life for David will take place on Friday, May 16, 2025, from 12:00pm – 4:00pm at the Red Blazer Restaurant in the Highland Room. In lieu of flowers, the family kindly asks that you find a moment to “Pay it Forward” and to think fondly of David next time you see a dog and give it a pat. Assisting the family with arrangements is the Cremation Society of NH, Boscawen. To view David's Online Tribute, send condolences to the family, or for more information, visit www.csnh.com.