Back In Black — by Dan Lynn
By Dan Lynn
I had a wonderful, life-long friend named Dave Kreutzer. We grew up in the same neighborhood. In high school, we were allowed days off to visit colleges. So one day Dave and I borrowed a friend's sports car and set off to visit one.
On the way, we stopped and bought a cassette that had just been released: AC/DC's Back In Black. We put it in, turned the volume as high as it would go, and experienced that album for the first time. Wow. The energy of it. We drove around all day and must have played it twenty times. We found a spot where the road crossed railroad tracks and took it fast enough to hit our heads on the roof, over and over, laughing our asses off. I still laugh about that with the friend who lent us the car. He doesn't laugh quite as much as I do.
We never made it to the college tour - although we told our parents and teachers that we did.
But here's what I know now, more than forty years later: I couldn't tell you very much about any college visit I actually completed. And I remember everything about that day. The tape. The tracks. The laughing. Dave.
Dave passed away in 2020, from kidney cancer. I miss him. And I've learned something about the days you steal — the ones where you don't do what you were supposed to do. At the time, they feel like skipping. Later, they turn out to be the treasure.
When someone is gone, you don't get to go back and schedule a great day with them. You only get to keep the ones you already took. So take them. Take more of them than feels responsible.
Questions this Key Learning answers
How do I make meaningful memories with people I care about?
Dan Lynn’s story suggests taking more unscheduled days with people who matter, even when doing so feels less than fully responsible. The lasting ingredients in his memory were simple: shared music, novelty, laughter, and a particular place. Our analysis notes that these elements can make an experience easier to retrieve years later, especially after loss.
Why do spontaneous days stay with us longer than planned ones?
The author remembers almost nothing about completed college visits, but vividly recalls the day he and Dave skipped one. Our analysis explains that novelty, strong emotion, music, and shared experience give a memory more ways to be retrieved. Routine days can blur together, while an unusual, joyful day becomes distinct enough to remain almost physically present.
Can a joyful memory help me honor a friend who died?
Yes. Dan’s story preserves Dave in motion, music, and laughter rather than reducing his life to his death from kidney cancer. Our analysis describes the telling as an act of remembrance, much like the album itself transformed grief into energy. A joyful story can keep someone present through the vivid moments already shared with them.