Around Philly and the world, ‘Big Dave’ makes his way with hugs, high-fives, and smiles

David Hale Sylvester is called Big Dave and The Man Who Embraced the World because that’s who he is — and what he does.

For two decades, the 56-year-old personal trainer at the Union League and author from Southwest Philadelphia has cycled and driven across countries and continents, offering and eliciting smiles, high-fives, and hugs from strangers along the way. He does this while walking around Philly, too.

“You know the feeling when you find some money in the pocket of a pair of jeans? No matter the denomination … found bills leave you feeling like you discovered treasure. That’s how I feel getting a hug or a high-five from a passerby,” Sylvester writes in the opening chapter of his new book, One Hug at a Time.

It’s a brisk collection of 99 first-person vignettes about cycling from Cairo to Cape Town and from Istanbul to Beijing, as well as his travels through Israel and northern Europe, exploring Australia, and crisscrossing the United States.

Chapters have titles such as “How Do You Say ‘Hug’ in Albanian?” and “A Hug Instead of a Parking Ticket.” The photos of his interactions with other people are a testament to how contagious Sylvester’s smile can be, and the stories are quirky, often moving, and occasionally startling.

Like the one about entering a packed Arizona biker bar on karaoke night and encountering a white dude who announces that he’s shocked to see a Black person in the joint. Sylvester starts a conversation with the guy. Turns out, the man had been in recovery from addiction for eight years, and later in the evening dedicates his rendition of “I’ve Been Everywhere” by Johnny Cash to his new friend.

Sylvester’s got so many great stories that he only occasionally pauses in the telling.

“Almost a year ago today, I finished another tour — my ‘Smile with Big Dave’ tour. I drove the contiguous 48 states to do a good deed for somebody in every state,” he said.

“Because of COVID, there were no hugs, no high-fives. I did things like take a homeless woman out to dinner in Vermont, and I bought an old lady gas in Arkansas. It was just to create a smile, because that was what we were really lacking in 2020.”

New Hampshire, said Sylvester, was among a handful of places where he found himself unable to raise a smile; he could find no takers there among the Granite State residents for whom he offered to buy gas. So he left New Hampshire for the greener pastures of Vermont.

“The thing is, smiles are possible,” he said. “It takes some work. You have to be willing to give people a chance. There is a smile there. You just have to find it.”

The origin story of his traveling, writing, and inspirational avocation is sad but powerful.

In 2002 Sylvester launched his first cross-country bike tour in memory of his friend Kevin Bowser, who died in the 9/11 terrorist attacks. He wanted to raise money to endow a scholarship fund in his honor at Bartram High School.

“Kevin and his twin brother, Kelvin, were just the coolest guys I ever met,” said Sylvester. “They were 10 years older than me, and they were so helpful. They cared about me and guided me.

“I knew that after Kevin was gone, his two kids would not have the same benefit I had of his wise counsel. I wanted them to know that their father was so cool that because of him, Big Dave went around the world hugging people.”

A creative writing professor named Sheryl Leonard was at the table with Sylvester and other friends at a restaurant in Philly when Sylvester mentioned his transcontinental cycling plan. There were so many conversations going on, and he made the remark so casually, that it didn’t really register at first.

“He said, ‘I’m going to ride across the country. I’m out of shape, but I’m doing it.’ And since then he’s finished many bike rides under many daunting circumstances,” Leonard said from California., where she wrote the foreword to the new book — and uses Sylvester’s work in some of her classes.

“Many of us talk the talk,” she said. “David talks, but he also walks the walk. Even despite COVID. He’s like, ‘People still need hugs.’ And he figures out a way to stay on his mission. It’s a mission of the heart.”

Jessica Warchal-King, a professional dancer whose company is called JCWK Dance Lab, uses Sylvester’s writing in the creativity class she teaches at Alvernia University in Reading. She met the author “six or seven years ago” through a mutual friend after a dance performance in Philly.

“It doesn’t take a lot of time to get to know Dave, and once you connect, Dave [stays] connected,” she said.

“He’s very excited to share what he is doing. He wants to spread the message so that other people can feel the same joy,” said Warchal-King, who has had Sylvester speak to her classes via Zoom. “He’s an example of risk-taking, in having confidence in [oneself] and having trust in humankind.

“Dave reminds us that it doesn’t take grand gestures to change the world. It takes small, intentional acts that can have a domino effect. But without those intentional acts, the domino effect can’t take place.”

Joseph Stingle, a graphic designer at Tagged Strategies advertising firm in Center City, has known Sylvester for 10 years and wrote the afterword, dated 9/11/21, for the new book. He accompanied the author to an event marking the 20th anniversary of 9/11 in New York last fall.

“David’s mission started 20 years ago today,” Stingle wrote. “While the world may not be a kinder place, I hope hearing Big Dave’s stories has at least shown [readers] that the world can be a kinder place.”

The joyous images in Sylvester’s books, website (davidhalesylvester.com), and Instagram account (instagram.com/thehumanhigh5/) attest to his mission’s power. And the author said his next project “is to do a one-man show of my travel photos at the Union League.”

After that, he plans to take the show on the road to “a cafe and gallery space in London.”

But first, Big Dave’s got another story to tell.

“The owner there told me that when he first heard about me he thought going around the world and hugging people was silly. Who in the world would want to get a hug from some guy?

“But he told me, ‘Of course the world wants a hug. And you’re who they want it from. You’re that guy.’”