Actually, when he heard I was taking prerequisite courses in physics he asked the definition of a Newton, since our store sold all this climbing gear rated to withstand kiloNewtons of force. After a few minutes with a calculator I determined that dropping the ~3.5 ounce bottle of bug spray from one meter would create one Newton of force upon landing. I demo-ed. He looked at the bottle on the ground with frozen eyes. "Do it again." I dropped it without narration. "Wait. One more time." After another few seconds of pause, the big grin flashed and his eyes lit up. He got it. And that silly concept of a Newton became him dropping different sized objects from different heights to replicate. He ran all across the store, dropping things from every aisle. "Pshhhongg... ppttthhhhffffftttt... Physics. BOOM."
The bear hugs -- happy go luckly ogre picks you up, crushes your ribs, and swings you around in circles. The bike -- a "triple triangle" mega-beater that bombed over pot holes and weaved like magic through cross traffic. The softness -- if given the option to let someone else win, especially if that person was having a tough time, Dan wouldn't think twice. But he would remember that moment forever as your big great win. The outcome was never the matter -- the smiles, the fun, being in the moment were his concern.
How to summarize Dan? To know him for five minutes would permanently affect your life for the better. His laughter was infectious, in part because it was so honest and unbelievable and in part because he wanted to share. And to many, Dan representing hope for humanity.
For those keeping track, I refer to the same Dan as in a previous post comparing a difficult moment as a therapist with a difficult moment as an over protective friend. I actually ran into him about a month ago, exiting the door of a local sporting goods store just as he entered. It had been a year since I'd last seen him. He had more gray hairs than before, the ponytail smooth where it had once been fluffy and barely controlled. He also had a few more eye wrinkles and a much calmer demeanor than I'd ever seen. He was teaching high school in Staten Island. No way! It has been too long. Remember the time that we...? We should meet again soon.
Sadly, "soon" could never come soon enough. Dan passed away last Friday from complications due to a seizure. He was 36 years old, and is survived by his wife Kate, his parents and brother, among numerous other family and a bazillion friends.
Dan had epilepsy. His was not a surgical case -- either too wide spread or originating from and area too necessary to remove. His death was seizure related, though for those of us hearing via the grape vine we do not know if his death was primary (overwhelmed circuitry) or secondary (while he was, say, driving a car or performing some activity that led to an accident). In that regard I can only speculate and hope that he did not endure too much pain.
Dan was a hero to many of us, and he was supremely passionate about his theater work. He graduated from UNC Chapel Hill with a BA in drama, spent two years a technical director in a high school, created Ground Up Productions with his wife which produced 18 shows off Broadway in NYC in 7 years (not easy!) and, most recently, earned a Masters in educational theater from NYC in 2012 before teaching drama at a Staten Island school. You wouldn't have expected such a resume from the lumbering bear described earlier, right? And that's all within the context of indirect effects of epilepsy such as difficulty concentrating (kind of like ADHD, yet different). But that obviously never stopped him. Oh, and he also married the women of his dreams.
Here are are some pulled from the storage files of our rides (and one from a random birthday). At this point it always feels like a paltry too few.
We all miss you terribly, Dan. I still cannot believe you are really gone....
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