Not your generic octogenarian

April 10, 2003

Dear Pat,

Stopping by the church Saturday during a tour he was giving family members visiting from out of town, my father-in-law saw all the cars in the parking lot and said, "There must be a funeral."

Only when he saw his wife -- "There's ol' Polly," he said -- standing near the church door alongside the balloons did he realize that his impending 80th birthday wasn't going to pass without a celebration, and this was it.

Inside the church fellowship hall, more balloons clung to the ceiling, and DC's flower arrangements decorated the tables. On one wall were photographs of Dan from childhood through octogenarian. In one he was as a college student working on some kind of experiment sprouting wires. He's still Dr. Gizmo. His latest is a doorbell he can ring at the appropriate time when the swing band he plays in performs "Pennsylvania 6-5000."

Another photograph captures him on one of his missions giving dental care in India or Africa or Mexico or South America.

The different parts of his life were represented in the flesh as well. Among the assemblage were family members from as far away as San Diego, professional colleagues, fellow Rotary Club members, neighbors, fellow members of this church he helped found and where he is the organist, and musicians. He began playing in the municipal band before World War II started. He is a stalwart in the orchestra that performs for one of the local high schools' annual musical. He's a guy who can be counted on for the long haul.

Those are the facts and figures, and Dan is fond of facts and figures. He probably can tell you what the annual rainfall is on Mount Kilimanjaro. If you need an outlet rewired he will do it but first will explain to you how electricity works.

He knows more people than anyone else I know. Everywhere we go together there are many people to be introduced to.

Anyone who knows him has an appreciation for his unique personality. Everyone has a Dan story they think exemplifies who he is.

That personality is not much interested in nuance or introspection. That personality has one speed: Go.

From 5 a.m. until he literally can't stay awake any more, he's drilling, painting, cleaning, gluing, washing, sanding, cutting, fishing or sawing something. He is a small man, but that doesn't seem to have anything to do with his energy quotient.

There is one thing he can't do: Sit still.

As someone who can do that very well, being his son-in-law sometimes has been challenging, especially since he and DC are so much alike. When from the recesses of a dream I hear my wife welcoming the new day with a chainsaw, I realize this is hereditary behavior unlikely to change.

The small jazz combo my parents play in provided the entertainment Saturday. Polly had smuggled Dan's trombone out of the house so he could sit in. He did, throwing in some extra glissandos just to celebrate.

By the end of the afternoon, we were the exhausted ones, not him.

My favorite Dan story is very brief. It occurred shortly after DC and I moved back to Cape Girardeau. We had just entered a restaurant for a family dinner, and Dan began introducing us to some people who already were seated there. The confusion on their faces quickly changed to laughter all around when he realized that he didn't know those people either.

The greatest compliment my father-in-law can give someone is a simple one. "He's a fine fellow," he says. It takes one to know one.

Love, Sam

Sam Blackwell is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.