SAN DIEGO _ Sometimes, life puts us in front of special people. The dominoes of the daily grind connect in unplanned, poignant and powerful ways. And those interactions, every now and then, can change everything.
Sometimes, a David Pradel meets a Nate Edwards.
Pradel, a young guy with an eye for video, was wrapped up in the predictable chaos of a college student in transition _ a haze of applications, essays and stress as he prepared to transfer from San Diego City College to San Diego State.
In the midst of it all, he guarded a dark secret.
Depression and anxiety that dogged Pradel since high school had taken alarming root, testing and tormenting his quiet moments. Was he making the right choices? Was he on the right path? The second guessing tortured him.
Pradel lost his confidence. Then, he lost his way.
Issues manifested themselves in the form of an eating disorder that robbed his already-slender body of 30 pounds. He couldn't stomach anything, including chicken soup. He told those who worried about his uncomfortable transformation that he was battling the flu.
What he kept from everyone: He was considering suicide.
"It was a dark hole," Pradel said.
Pradel debated sitting out a semester to manage his health, but ultimately decided to trudge forward, "going through the motions" with the simple goal of graduating. Then, as part of a class, he began shooting video of City College sports teams.
One day, on the other side of the lens, stood Nate Edwards.
The vibrant, outgoing black kid from a suburb of New York City was a smile-a-minute sophomore who loved basketball and worshipped Kobe Bryant. He became an important cog for the Knights, who marched all the way to San Diego's first California junior-college men's championship in 66 years. Pradel was a reserved Latino kid born and raised in San Diego who attended Clairemont High School.
They bonded, immediately.
When Pradel posted videos of sports teams, basketball or not, Edwards often was the first to click "like." He sent encouraging notes on social media. He greeted the newcomer like a member of the team when he poked his head into the gym.
Edwards knew nothing about Pradel's crisis of confidence or the demons that plagued him. He just recognized someone craving a warm welcome.
"He was so supportive," Pradel said.
