David Halpern ’73 has done it all. He’s worked as a lobbyist in Washington DC, written award-winning cartoons, and served as a ranger in Washington State Parks. He’s dabbled in screen writing, tried his hand at sculpting, and even drafted a novel. On top of it all, in 1984, an unlikely mix of fate and his years of dedication led him to the world’s most prestigious stage.
As Halpern stepped into the walkway for the opening ceremony, there were people pressed against fences on either side of him. The giant crowd went back as far as the eye could see, and every single one of them, whether they knew who Halpern was or not, wanted to see him, be close to him, and get his autograph. It was completely “surreal” how much devotion and support he got from the fans. On that day, Halpern’s life changed forever. He became an Olympian.
Despite his massive success, Halpern’s journey as a flatwater sprint kayaker began at Lakeside, and it had nothing to do with the sport. During his senior year, Halpern liked a girl. His master plan to charm her? Join the kayaking team, of which she was a proud member. However, seniors weren’t allowed to join the team without experience; it was too much work to teach them during their last year. It seemed like this was the end of the road, but luck was in his favor. It turned out the girl liked him back, enough to convince her coach to let Halpern join. Little did he know his first love wouldn’t be her, but the sport.
In the Olympic Village in Los Angeles, California, Halpern never wore his uniform to avoid being bombarded by fans. But one day, he and his team decided to try it. Everywhere he went, little kids stared at him in awe, and fans asked for an autograph. Before long, a security guard came up to him; there was a busload of people at the gate and of all the athletes there: they wanted to meet him. It turned out that they had taken the bus all the way from New York City. In 1984, only four Jewish people competed, and Halpern was the only one not representing Israel. Even though, Halpern noted, sports aren’t typically emphasized in the Jewish community, to this group Halpern was a celebrity and an inspiration. This meant a lot to Halpern who had never gotten that support before, even competing at Worlds.
The first question most people ask Halpern about the event is simple: Did he medal? But to him, it’s about so much more than that. Though he finished tenth, he performed well. As he had planned, he crossed the finish line just before blacking out. His time wasn’t his personal best, but he nevertheless became the first American to finish within the top ten for that event. Even now, at 70, he still kayaks competitively. He wants people to understand that though the Olympics are a special event, they don’t define an athlete. At the end of the day, his story is not one of an American Olympian who failed to reach the podium, but one of fate, passion, and a deep-seated love for the sport that took him farther than he ever expected.
