Dan's Life

2008-09-18T23:16:00.002-07:00

2008-09-18T23:16:00.001-07:00

LIFE IS ETERNAL

I am standing upon the seashore

A ship at my side spreads

her white sails to the morning

breeze and starts for the blue

ocean. She is an object of

beauty and strength and I

stand and watch her until

at length she hangs

like a speck of white cloud

just where the sea and sky

come down to mingle

with each other. Then someone

at my side says, "There!

She’s gone!"

Gone where? Gone from

my sight - that is all. She

is just as large in mast

and hull and spar as she

was when she left my side,

and just as able to bear her

load of living freight to the

place of destination. Her

diminished size is in me,

not in her; and just at the

moment when someone at

my side says, There: She’s

gone, there are other eyes

watching the coming, and

other voices ready to take

up the glad shout, "There!

she comes!"

2008-09-18T23:16:00.000-07:00

2008-08-29T03:02:00.000-07:00

From: Richard A. Fineberg (Aug. 28, 2008; Page 1 of 1)
To: Dan, Nancy, the Five Musketeers and Everyone Else in the Dryden Network

(1) 1976

The beginning. Comes to mind and heart a lovely song:

When the deer has bedded down and the bear has gone to ground,
And the northern goose has wandered off to warmer gays and sounds,
It’s so easy in your heart to feel the darkness all around,
But the world is always turning toward the morning.

Decades ago, Gordon Bok, sea-faring Maine baritone balladeer, wrote this for a
friend in need of solace. For months he was unable to respond to her letter. He
wanted to tell her to look to the hills for comfort, but it was November in Maine,
and he could find no warmth that month in the bleak landscape. And so he wrote
this song:

Oh, my Nancy, don’t you know, that the stars are swinging slow?
And the seas are rolling easy, as they did so long ago;
If I had a thing to give you, I would tell you one more time
That the world is always turning toward the morning.

Like others who have shared on these pages their deep appreciation and
affection for Dan Dryden and their gratitude for the warm embrace of the Dryden
family, I feel honored and privileged to have been welcomed into the Dryden
household and fortunate that we have shared so many years together. But (like
Gordon Bok, who could not answer his grieving friend) Dan’s sudden departure
left me so bereft that I was unable to add my reflections. As the news flew round
the globe during the first 48 hours, my first thought was that I must offer comfort.
But when I spoke with Nancy (from her hospital bed in Morales) and Jessica
(who called when their flight was delayed at the Anchorage airport), both sought
to comfort me. Amazing. Who could ask for better friends?

(Did the sea-faring song writer know Nancy? Perhaps not, for he wrote this
song to Joannie. More on this mystery to come.)

When I met Nancy in 1975, she brightened a cold Fairbanks November. I was
playing music with friends in town; she had come to her neighbor’s house to
borrow some sugar for baking. We immediately became friends. But as our
friendship blossomed, there was one major kink: She was always talking about
this guy named Dan. I figured he must not have cared for her because he always
was off driving a truck between Fairbanks and the North Slope. I didn’t want to
hear about this stupid jerk, but she wanted me to meet him.

Oh, well.

But then, one evening when Dan was not driving the haul road we met. Despite
the fact that I was reporting on the pipeline and he was part of the project,
hauling equipment and materials north, we immediately became fast friends. I
think we were equally intrigued by the striking similarities in our rational and
cognitive pursuit of empirical realities, as well as the equally extraordinary
differences between Dan’s cosmic approach to the universe (which I observed
with interest but did not share). The connections were so deep that, looking
back, I find it hard to picture my life without the Drydens.
Dan told me later that although he had driven smaller trucks and farm equipment
prior to the pipeline, he had never driven an 18-wheeler. He was looking for a
pipeline job when a truck driver offered him a ride to Anchorage; he took it,
hoping that he might get a chance to take the wheel and learn to drive a big rig; it
happened just that way. He came back to Fairbanks, ready for the Teamster test
drive. Fortunately, the Teamster test truck had the same gear box he had driven
(I forget whether it was 12-speed or 15-speed) and he passed the test. Over the
next two years, he made 92 trips north on the new, unpaved 415-mile road from
Fairbanks to Prudhoe Bay. With 150 trucks shuttling back and forth between
Prudhoe Bay and Fairbanks daily, it was called the Kamikaze Trail. Worst of all
was the 60 miles of old mining road between Fairbanks and Livengood. The new
road was rough-hewn, but at least it was built for big trucks. Not so for the grades
and curves on the he stretch from Fairbanks to Livengood, which was an old
mining trail.

Dan loved it.

On one northern trip, Dan paused on the Haul Road near Sukakpak Mountain to
enjoy the view when a voice came in on his CB. A miner in a nearby cabin, just
off the road, wanted to know what this truck was doing when Dan stopped there
and Dan immediately made friends with the old miner. In the spring of 1976 he
persuaded his to write me a note granting me permission to come and visit. With
that note, Dan could get me past the checkpoint at the Yukon River. Once across
the river, I could visit the old miner (I did a piece for the News-Miner’s week-
ender on the old miner, “The View from Linda Creek.” Better yet, I could walk
straight into the pipeline camps with Dan, sit down to a free meal, finagle a free
trucker’s bunk and – most importantly – talk to pipeline workers, free from the
company press chaperones that turned journalistic trips north into a dog and
pony show. But that is another story. This is about our first adventure.

After chaining up in a snowstorm near Livengood, Dan mounted the cab and
went on the CB: “18 wheeler at the foot of Livengood Hill; anyone on the grade?”

A crackling voice came back, something like: “Hey, good buddy, empty flatbed
coming down. I’m halfway down and it’s slippery as hell right
here. I’m swinging all over the place. Wouldn’t want to meet anybody coming
up.”

We waited until the empty semi, on the back haul from a pipeline camp or the
Slope, passed us south bound and then ground our way up the steep hill, Dan
straining to find the road through a caked windshield in near white-out conditions.

Dan left me at Galbraith Lake and continued north. My pipeline camp visits were
adventures of another sort; For example, at Galbraith I met laborer friends and
spent the night; we partied, drank and played square dance tunes. The next day,
I hitch-hiked south, blissfully ignorant that my mother had died in the Lower-48.
When I arrived back in Fairbanks and received the news, I called Dan and
Nancy, who prepared a ceremonial dinner, lit candles and introduced me to the
notion that death may not be the end. Dan escorted me to the airport. Who
could ask for better friends?

Dan and Nancy left for England to sail Janetta back. Steve and June have
described the friends they made. I would have little contact with the Drydens for
the next 13 years.

Dan later said he made 92 trips on the Haul Road. Near the end of his Haul Road
run, he landed in the ditch once – if I remember correctly – ruining an otherwise
perfect record. The rookie trucker on the pipeline became the veteran whose CB
handle was “The Professor.”

(2) 1989 - 2008

San Francisco, August 27. Elided remeniscenses on the fly.

The driveway on the eastbound ascent just past Mile 56 on the Rich gives little
hint of the beauty of that windswept bluff and not a clue of the warmth of that
barnlike house, with its dining room and kitchen on the second story. How clearly
I remember the summer day, thirteen years later, when, driving from Valdez and
Prince William Sound to Homer (it was the summer of the Exxon Valdez spill
and clean-up), I stopped to see if I could find my old friends the Drydens. Had
they built at Mile 56? Were they still there? At Sheep Creek Lodge I found them
in the phone book. Two hours later, driving west near mile 56, a little girl got out
of a car to check the mail, skipped back in. A woman who looked like Nancy was
driving. I followed them back to that unspectacular driveway and up the long
drive from the highway. I still recall sensing no anxiety on their part that a
stranger was following them as I jumped out of my truck to say hello. Nancy
calmly and happily greeted me and introduced me to Jessica, as if we had seen
each other yesterday; Daniel, 11, and Dan would be home shortly. As if a13-year
was nothing, I was welcomed into the Dryden family.

And so began 18 years of great experiences. The memories flow together.

I remember with joy how many times I drove up that driveway to find welcoming
smiles, a warm hug, a good meal. To l to look at the panaroma of the
surrounding mountains from a kitchen where I was always welcome, always at
home. A universe so different from the world of politics and current events I
inhabited.

The memories come flooding back. I never contemplated that they could ever
end. And I try to tell myself that they did not end.

Finding joy is so easy if you just let yourself. Grief? It is but a remembrance of
that joy, that potential. Focus on the beauty.

The outings. I came to think of Dan as the Tarp King. Always equipped, able to
devise a support system with ropes and skilful knotting, taking delight in sharing
the protected zone he had created.

And the places the tarps were pitched:

• Denali in a September snow storm, camping with the Woods, with Jessica
and Daniel home from college.

• The Kobuk River on big rafts we ran down from Walker Lake.

• The Copper River. Where Grizzlies watched us from across Abercrombie
Falls.

• The Turner River in the Arctic Refuge where we stood silent as thousands
of caribou appeared over the brow of a ridge, pouring for hours out of a
valley that appeared to be empty.

• Hawkins Island in Prince William Sound, where salmon sharks streaked
under our kayaks one day.

The memories flow together. Enjoyment of great experiences was the primary
goal, to which Dan contributed so much. And, seemingly, so effortlessly. Not
because all things came easily to Dan, but because he wanted to share.
However tired Dan might have been, however anxious about worldly problems,
he was always at his best on an expedition. Seeking adventure, and relishing it
when he found it.

The memories come flooding back. I never contemplated that they could ever
end. And Dan would assure me, I suspect, that they did not end.

Focus on the beauty.

Over the years, the kitchen became a clubhouse for Dan and me. Not a secret
club, but a place where we would bring back and exchange information,
understandings gained about the mysterious universe. A place where we would
ponder questions concerning whatever subject about which we had we gained
understanding since last we met, or whatever it was that we did not understand.

Grief is but a remembrance of that joy, that potential.

Finding joy can be easy if you just let yourself.

(3) Messages from a Far-Flung Network

In this time, the messages being passed around the world have meant so much
to so many. I cherish each as a blessing or candle for Dan. Here are a select
few.

The message from Riki Ott’s sister Lisi was simple and direct:

Subject: A Great Man

What a loss. We feel so blessed to have shared . . . quality time together. .
. . Peace be upon their family, they are in our thoughts.

Lisi Ott and Jeff Johnson

Years before, they had been welcomed into the Dryden world.

That was Monday, August 11. Much earlier that morning (2-1/2 hours after
Jessica called from the Anchorage airport), I had two wonderful and nourishing
calls from the Bay Area. One from my daughter Renata in Oakland and one from
my niece Julia in San Francisco. In these wonderful years, they both had the
opportunity to meet the Drydens and share their universe: My daughter
and my niece Julia, both checking in to acknowledge Dan’s departure.

The common denominator: All had been welcomed into the Dryden world and
are part of this wonderful, far-flung network.

Comes to mind now a verse from a Gordon Bok sea shanty, one I have carried
for decades.

Nancy, Oh my Nancy,
(Clear away in the morning)
She never played it fancy.
(Oh, bring her round).

It pleases me to speculate that Gordon Bok did meet Nancy:

Later that day (August 11), Dee Woods returned my voice mail message. He
said, very simply,

“We’re not doing any better than you are.”

I wasn’t home, but there was no need to talk; all said and done.

With Dan’s help, I know that in time we will all be doing better. And as we come
around, Dan’s memory is – will be – right there with us, smiling and proud.

Get out Old Dan's records
Bring out Old Dan's records
High above the fireplace
There's a smile on Old Dan's face
If Old Dan could see us now
I know he'd be so proud
If Old Dan were with us still
I know he'd come around

How did Gordon Lightfoot know? If only Dan were here, we could ask him: How
did both Gordons know? Can the network really be so expansive, penetrating
and knowing? Or did these two Gordons just happened to get it right by chance?

Dan would have loved debating this. And if he could see the outpouring of love,
affection and energy on these pages, I know he’d be so proud.

Thank you, everyone.

Thank you, Dan.

2008-08-29T02:46:00.002-07:00

meadows and fields of wildflowers
imbued in glittering sunlight

... we send to you ...

skys woven of crystal whisperings
sung forth on
chariot wonder

... we send to you ...

waves unbroken from seas unplumbed
lifting
pearls in arc'ing horizons

... we bring
forth to you ...

children tressed in rainbow laughter
dancing glad on
diamond dreams

... we
usher forth to you ...

Aurora Borealis born of midnight suns
blazed deep in
Mystery's longing

... we
carry forth to you...

roses perfumed on desert footsteps
arabesqued
in silent jubilee

... we
carry forth to you...

mountains crested in seraphim wings
spun in
heart's of angels glad

... we
call forth to you ...

Love splendid in God's embraces
unfolding destinies
ecstatically unfurled

... we pour
into you ...

tea prepared in Mehera's kitchen
from teapot's of
the Beloved's joy

... we
pour forth for you ...

Meher's grace before His
unpresuming throne
tapped of His
Love unleashed of all measure

... we
drink with you ...

all wine and glory alive
in His presence
we celebrate
and rejoice

... in
beauty and joy of you ...

on the Silver Stairs immersed
in the Golden
where all is made
whole in the Divine Becoming

... in this we
dance All together with you .......

Doug Stalker

2008-08-29T02:46:00.001-07:00

Dan Dryden Memorial

I first met Nancy at the Moser’s home where she came regularly to work with their daughter Molly through the Infant Learning Program. However, one doesn’t usually know just one Dryden for long. Soon I had met Dan, Jessica, and Daniel. When I first visited them in Sutton, they were living in their motor home which was parked in the garage of the building which would eventually be their home. It was tight quarters initially, kind of like a boat. I have many happy memories of being together with the Dryden family and other of our friends for hikes & outings, dinners, Holidays. Many times I would stop in at their home on my way home from berry picking or a hike and always received the same wonderful welcome Two adventures I had with the Dryden “foursome” stand out in my mind. One was the Crow Pass trip and the other was the Mint to Eska trip. .

For the Crow Pass trip my parents offered to do the car shuttle so that we didn’t have to backtrack to pick up a car after hiking from Girdwood to Eagle River. They loved the Drydens and looked forward to any encounter with the family. They drove me to Girdwood to meet the Drydens who arrived several hours later. My parents were worried that something had happened to them, but I reassured them that this late arrival wasn’t unusual for the Drydens and that even though it “appeared” that they were about to leave at the same time that we were, that they were often detained in one manner or another. Dan had been diligently listening to weather reports prior to this trip to time it with perfect, sunny, warm weather. The Drydens did finally arrive and we got a mid to late afternoon start. The scenery of the entire trip was outstanding, and more so because of the perfect conditions. We hiked along mining debris amid tall salmonberry bushes. We came to the deep gorge with the endless waterfall and explored around the falls and walked into the canyon room above it. Continuing upward the perfect conditions soon translated to “hot” and Dan shed his jeans for 2 bandanas tied together at his waist. On the way up, Dan pointed out how advantageous it was to have 2 strong teenagers who were eager to carry heavy loads and were in fact carrying the entire family tent. I had my little 1 person tent, but also benefited from the family porters, as the stove was being shared. Raven Glacier was spectacular on a sunny day and seemed to be coming from many directions as a vast expanse of rugged white ice chunks . That evening we were delighted to find that our campsite was also a blueberry patch & enthusiastically picked berries to supplement our supper & our breakfast. Dan extolled the virtues of the new little Coleman camp stove he had just purchased—such that I was convinced it was the answer to camping and bought one just like it shortly after the trip (It has been the answer). Crossing the Eagle River the next day was memorable in that the river was high and swift from warm weather glacial melt. Dan explained that we should cross as a unit, holding onto a pole which we found laying on the bank. I offered to lead the charge into the icy water but after heading out ran into difficulty, as my neoprene booties were washed away by the swift current & I stumbled trying not to lose them. If we hadn’t all been holding onto a pole to stabilize us, I would have fallen fully into the river. By evening, I was tiring as there is a 13 mile march along the Eagle River on the last stretch. Then Nancy started us singing, and we sang the last miles away with every song we could think of. There were no discomforts from then on. It was just such a joy from beginning to end to be with the Dryden energy and enthusiasm.

Another trip with the Drydens was a 4th of July weekend when we hiked from the Mint trail in Hatcher Pass to the Mint hut, across the Mint Glacier to the Moose Creek & hut, and then ascended the next ridge which lead to the headwaters of Eska Falls. We were leaving in the morning. I stayed up late packing and also got up to finish off. Knowing the chances of an early departure or even a morning departure were unlikely, I lay on the sofa and slept until the Drydens arrived—around 3 pm. It was a 3 day weekend & with the late start I had some concerns that we would not return in time for work on Tuesday, but I was reassured that we had to make it out by then as Jessica also worked. We hiked along at a brisk pace to make it up to the Mint Hut that evening. The next morning the start was leisurely. We identified the different Mint mountains—Spearmint, Peppermint, Doublemint, Governmint, Merrimint, Troublemint-- took careful stock of our surroundings, and gathered the gear for heading up the Mint Glacier. The glacier didn’t look terribly large or impressive as there weren’t any visible crevasses and it just looked like dirty, rock-strewn snow but we did rope up & stuck together. It was overcast but at one point the sun came out, and Dan & Nancy seized the moment to nap together on a rock in the sun. We went over the top, through a little wind, and made an easy descent into Moose Creek Valley (with some of us sliding). We didn’t know where the hut was located, but were able to spot it while still high, so we had a general idea of our next destination. Then as we descended, the clouds evaporated and we had a beautiful sunny alpine valley garden all to ourselves. We were delighted by the alpine flowers and stopped repeatedly to examine the fresh and colorful bouquets. Dan & Nancy, Jessica and Daniel were all there in the moment & I loved their enthusiasm and joy and was part of it myself. Each new flower or formation was a major discovery, another dimension of perfection. We moved very slowly savoring it all. Further down the valley we found ourselves boulder hopping. I was using a hiking stick, something I had just taken up due to a back injury, feeling insecure with my balance. Dan watched how I moved with the stick, and observed that my posture changed to more bent and tentative when I used the stick, and he suggested that I put it aside as he thought I would do better without it. I listened, tried it, and found that he was right, and that I didn’t really need the stick. We came to the newly built Moose Pass Hut with rocky ridges above it and flowered carpet below, enjoyed another night out, then another leisurely start to our final day. We continued down the valley, then up a rocky crumbly ridge. I recall Dan, Jessica & Daniel running up the loose rock and steep slopes with the greatest of ease. Nancy & I were more cautious and deliberate, but were assisted in our ascent by ropes dropped for us. It was so enjoyable to climb the rest of the way up with the safety of a belay. At the top there was some ridge walking and then side winding along scree to the final ridge above Eska Falls. It was already getting towards evening. The rest of the trip I recall as sheer beauty and joy as we descended in the fading light from the very headwaters of Eska—some glaciated snow at the top-- around some glacial lakes, to the broad runway which was an easy hike down, then descending more sharply into the Valley of Waterfalls. It was getting quite dusky by then, and I couldn’t see as clearly, but I remember the sound of water falling all around us as we were surrounded by falls. Further down the Valley we came to the main Eska Falls, still wild and natural. As I recall the last part of the trail was still the unimproved trail that Lynn Wood & Nancy had blazed, still so pristine and jungle-like before the 4 wheelers ground it up & grooved it. As we were hiking out about 3 am, I remember thinking “yes, we will make it out in time to work today”. I was driven home as Dan or Nancy went to retrieve the car at Hatcher Pass. Although tired, I was utterly happy and enlivened to have shared another adventure with the Drydens.

Dan, I am going to miss your passion for living fully, your strong embrace, and smile, your wonderful conversations with serious and open inquiry into the nature of all kinds of things, your explorations for truth and contemplation of mystery, your instruction and advice, your promotion of kindness and cooperation, your sense of justice, and concern for the environment, your pleasure in your family and your wide and warm extension of family, your enjoyment of the arts and small flowers, your love of a good keg of beer and a party, your big truck, your adventures. However I am going to affirm that we cannot not be robbed of the brightness you have brought to our lives and inasmuch as we continue to live in the moment without separation, you are with us. Quianaq-puk.

Nancy, Jessica & Brian, Dan & Renee, Ale. Thank you for sharing so honestly and beautifully with us from Guatamala. You have been an inspiration to me through all your pain and struggles. You exemplify how much stronger we are when we share the burdens and support each other. I love you all very much and look forward to seeing you again.

Linda

2008-08-25T00:39:00.001-07:00

These last two weeks have seemed like twenty years as all the memories of Dan have flowed through my heart and mind. These memories of course bring up many others so the time is very long. These B&W photos, taken by me, were on George Lustig's homestead in Wasilla. It was 1970 and Dan had set up a giant circular canvas Army tent on the property. I don't recall if he was working or just helping George or just being stoned. He was exceptional company and we seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time debating everything. We formed an unspoken bond and I always felt, over the years and no matter what else had transpired, that we were the dearest of friends. He and Nancy and the kids came to see me in Vermont, at my family's place in Jamaica, and lived in that motor home for a summer. They visited several times at my schoolhouse in Marlboro --- once enjoying a bitter New Year's Day skiing the empty mountain at Mt Snow. Jessica took a February vacation here once from school. I was able to visit them in Sutton when I made a return trip to Alaska after a 21 year hiatus. Whenever my son Ben told me that he ran into the Drydens or visited them, I would be delighted that Dan and Ben would be talking, that Dan would see the boy grown up, that Ben might learn from him.

I'm not being very eloquent here but this site has meant a great deal to me -- connecting me to the grief and the joy; feeling the vast, unending ripples of love for this great and lovely soul. Dan could drop into your life every five years or so and no time at all had passed, an unending conversation continued. He was 'briefly lent for our delight and hallowed by our love'.

Thank you, Dan.
Callie B Newton

The first meeting of Dan was on George & Callie's homestead, arriving on Number One, an Hippie schoolbus of some friend's who had just arrived here a few weeks after I had, the summer of '70. Mike and I were taking them to a real Alaska place. It was the rainiest of summers so it was inconceivable that here was a man who was living in a (10 man) tent for the third year. Siim Hanja, Anne, Moustache the dog, Tom, of the bus and I, strangers to Dan, and others, were back in the woods sitting around in the 10-man w/ Dan, talking &etc. for an while, when we heard a voice calling my name (I probably looked surprised as I was not expecting anyone else).

[Apparently Callie had directed friend Jim Wigton (fresh off a monkey island, fresh off the gravel AlCan, who somehow incredibly, had tracked us to this homestead), how to find the tent, after determining he was "o.k."].

An unidentified stranger was coming on the path and Dan's immediate reaction to the approach was to jump for his rifle and the door. He hadn't known us for that long, but we were under his roof, and therefore his protection no matter who or for what purpose someone was approaching for me.

And that's what the pirates encountered.

R.I.P. Loyal friend, Scott Semans.
.

In December 1976 Nancy and Dan’s wedding plans evolved by the hour in the kitchen of the big Korns Glenmont house on the Hudson south of Albany. Nancy would wear her mother’s ethereal 1930s lace gown, pictured in your website. What would Dan wear? I offered—I could maybe sew what he might like –he and Nancy wanted an old-time look, another century maybe. It was the bicentennial year and patterns featured 18th century shirts— would Dan like that? Even though I had learned to sew less than a year before, Dan and Nancy trusted me enough to let me make the right shirt. In heavy snow at twilight, Dan and I rushed to a tiny sewing store on the main street of the closest town. Dan made straight for the formal fabrics and pointed with absolute certainty at a copper-colored high gloss satin. That makes it sound like paint, but it really was as bright and metallic as a new Mercedes. It gave off light.

At Esther’s Korns’ sewing machine, I had the joy of knowing I could do something for the family who had been so kind to me. Through my hours of cutting and sewing, Dan and Nancy continued creating and editing their wedding vows. They were so intent that I hated to interrupt Dan for his fittings, but he was always willing, holding his arms straight out, euphoric, grinning in that bright cloth.

Dan glowed with love.

Dan could listen with a rare concentration, and listen with another listener. In Alaska, in 2002, we listened together to bluegrass and Ralph Stanley singing “O Death.” Both of us silent, lost in the music, yet sharing the mystery of death and one artist’s way to show it.

Dan could listen.

That same 2002 summer, Dan with my sons in his kitchen, helping them make their toast (Dan’s bread) and take care of themselves—the true job of a parent, I think, teaching our kids to take care of themselves. Dan did the job, and the world can see it now.

Long before that, in the spring of 1978, Boston, Dan gave me my first lesson in parenting. Before our long walk to the Boston harbor, Dan strapped baby Jessica in her brown corduroy snugli onto my shoulders and told me, “You’ll feel a certain dampness, but don’t worry about that.” I used this as my motto through raising my boys: A certain dampness, but don’t worry about that. I thought of telling that story at Jessica’s wedding, but it might not have been pleasing to the bride.

Dan was a father.

In 2004, Nancy and Dan stayed with us in Bordeaux, France and took in the Bay of Biscay, where further offshore are some of the biggest waves in the world. And we climbed le Dune du Pilat, the highest sand dune in Europe. Le Dune du Pilat is revered enough to have painted eggcups and tea towels in its image.

And Dan was irreverent enough to sled down the sand dune and entice my son to do the same.

Dan’s irreverence was a joy.

The day Dan and Nancy were attacked, I swam all day in the northern end of Lake Michigan with five dear women friends, out of touch with the world for 4 days in a 1910 cottage. On Tuesday August 12 I drove solo 5 hours south to my home, and when I stopped for a break I phoned my mother Mary Korns, just to pass the time as we often do. By then Mary knew all about your family’s loss. Yet Mary, knowing I had 3 more hours of solo freeway driving ahead of me, was able to chat easily of my lake retreat, my sons, her day, and hide her sadness, certain that once I learned about Dan I would be too grief-shattered to drive the rest of those miles. My mother protected me.

Dan protected those he loved. I’ll miss him every day.

Liza, Jeremy, Evan and Graham Taylor in Ann Arbor, Michigan

2008-08-25T00:36:00.001-07:00

When I shared the news of Dan with my family we all remembered one lovely dinner we had out at your house one evening many years ago. Daniel, Toby remembers sitting in your room and juggling "3 of something". He described your room so well. Ah, the details that a young mind remembers. Kyle was too young to remember. Mike and I remember the ambience of the evening and the warm feeling in the house. Nancy, you know that my heart is with you now as our souls have always touched one another. I look forward to your return home to share a cuppa tea and a gentle hug. You and Dan have been special people to many people so know that your pain is shared, as well as the joys of your lives embraced. In peace and light, Mary

2008-08-25T00:30:00.001-07:00

The first family member I met from my then boyfriend's family was Daniel Dryden III. I was excited to meet this young man and when I first saw him I thought he was Jesus! After spending a few days with him and John, I realized that meeting the rest of John's family would be a breeze. Then, in the summer of 2006, at the island of Martha's Vineyard, I first met Daniel Dryden II (and Jess and Nancy) and instantly, I knew where Daniel's wonderful spirit came from-- his dad:)

Dan was just such a father figure and he was so easy to approach and extremely non- judgmental which is the best part about him and the other members of his family. I remember John and I asking him advice about something and he was so easy to listen too and I also remember as we were all hiking on the beach (I am not at all a good hiker like the Drydens) I had to stop and take a breather and almost gave up when Dan says to me, " Come on Sangeetha, vamonos". I got up an completed the hike (YAY). I also remember how Dan loved tea and I sent him some special tea for Christmas once and every time he would drink it, he would write me an email to say he was thinking of me. He also taught John and I a lot about life in Alaska when we were at his daughter's wedding last summer.

The last time I think many of us saw Dan was at our wedding party on a boat on the Hudson River, last October. That was also the first time my parents were meeting the in-laws and they were treated very well by everyone but I think Dan (and Nancy) really took the time and patience to make my parents feel really at home and accepted. Dan brought salmon all the way from Alaska for my parents and he and Nancy always had time to converse with them everyday they were together. I have one picture of Dan laughing with my parents which I will cherish forever and my parents and I will remember his kindness to them always. I also remember when at the cake reception my parents needed a ride back to their hotel as they were ready to turn in for that night and Dan jumped up to the chance to give them a ride:) My parents remember him very fondly and will always do and I remember Tom saying to my parents (when he visited them in Malaysia last April) that they should not be surprised if Dan and Nancy docked by a nearby marina near my parents house in Malaysia anytime soon. Maybe it could still happen when the Drydens find a new captain and they are ALWAYS welcome at our home in Malaysia.

Thank you Dan for being a kind and very accepting soul which is what my parents and I will remember you most by.

Sangeetha Kelly-- Dan's "new" niece

2008-08-25T00:26:00.000-07:00

My sister Rain was remembering Daniel Dryden. It was during one of our Memorial Day Powwows at Moose Creek. Friends and relatives were drumming and dancing in a circle on the lawn. She looked up and Dan Dryden came riding his white horse down the driveway, a cowboy hat perched on his head. He parked his horse by the bank and joined the circle of friends just like he belonged there, which he knew he did.

2008-08-22T02:27:00.000-07:00

It was some 18-20 years ago when I was first introduced to the Drydens. It was through my wife Kristin who had begun a job with Nancy at the InfantLearningProgram (a program to help disabled children and their parents learn to cope with the problems related to the particular disability) a program that Nancy had run years before. It was an (ugh) company Xmas party. Kristy drug me over to a table to sit, at the end of the table was this somewhat shaggy silver haired man with the brightest eyes and a slightly crooked smile just brimming with life deep, I wondered how he kept all that energy contained, in discussion with several others. Even though he was engaged at the far end of the table in talk I immediately felt fully a part of the group and recognized by this stranger and knew instantly this was a friend without ever a word being spoken between us. As with all things Dan I was fully engaged in the discussion and giving my opinion before I knew what had happened. A unique experience to say the least, well for me anyway, I'm usually a bit quiet when meeting people.
As the years passed the friendship deepened. It became a monthly dinner that rotated around, all of us sharing what new project we all were involved in at the moment, what we were learning and doing. Always sharing the love and good times. It is sad, for the people who caused his demise will never know what harm they have done to themselves. Dan was the motivator, an organizer, a leader of the community in every sense of the word. Never seeking adulation or reward only doing that which needed to be done, that which would make the world around him just that much better. This is a time when we need all the unification we can find, here was someone who could have made great inroads to that unity. But maybe while "sitting in that next room" , as someone said here, he will bring some of that to Rio Dolce and lake Isabel and knowing Dan to the rest of the world if there is any way possible. He easily exemplified what Maslow was trying to describe as the 'self-actualized person'. One of those rare people who really do leave this world just a little bit better than he found it.

His light will continue to shine, and does, directly through Nancy, Brian & Jessica , Daniel & Renee, not to mention any children they may have. Additionally his heritage will go forth with all of us that have known and cherished him if even for a moment in time. There are so many possible stories that I could tell yet the "YeeHaw!!!" that Brian heard on the way to Guat city is classic Dan at his best. We are waiting patiently for your return and hope all goes easily.

David & Kristy

I REMEMBER DAN :

FIRST MEETING HIM IN 1960 AT HVCC

SITTING IN THE CAFETERIA BETWEEN CLASSES

DOING ENGINEERING HOMEWORK WITH HIM

COMPLIMENTING MY MOTHER ON HER COOKING

SIPPING A HIS GORMET COFFEE

RIDING HIS FIRST HARLEY

FIXING THINGS THE ROGHT WAY

PAYING ATTENTION TO DETAIL

BEING LATE

PACKING FOR HIS MOTORCYCLE TRIP TO NEW MEXICO

HIS ARRIVAL AT MY PLACE IN SANTA MONICA

IN HIS CABIN IN TOPANGA CANYON

RACING HIM ACROSS THE MOJAVE DESERT AT 100 MPH

MOTORCYCLE RIDING UP LAGUNA CANYON TWISTIES IN THE MOONLITE

DRIVING ME TO MY FIRST ARMY ASSIGNMENT

WORKING AT G.E. DRAFTING DEPT.

BUILDING A STORAGE CABIN WITH HIM IN AK.

CAMPING IN KENAI

PARTYING WITH CANADIAN INDIANS

LIGHTING THE FIREPLACE

RIDING THE GRANDSON OF MAN OF WAR

SKIING A STEEP SLOPE AT MAD RIVER GLEN

DISCUSSING PHILOSOPHY

LOOKING FOR A BOAT IN ENGLAND

TALKING ABOUT HIS FIRST OUT OF BODY EXPIRIENCE WITH GRAND MAUD

RAFTING THE RAPIDS AFTER A RAIN

TRAIL RIDING IN NY

SPEAKING SPAINISH IN MEXICO

CO-PILOTING MY PLANE

WALKING UP THE HILLY STREETS OF SAN MIGUEL

HAVING A BRIGHT RETIREMENT PLAN

THINKING HE WOULD LIVE FOREVER

ED ALLYN

2008-08-19T20:34:00.001-07:00

Coastal Chronicles, England

‘Twas the summer of ’76 when Steve and I bought the cutter “Syrinx.” She was covered with years of dust in a shed in Cardnell’s yard in Maylandsea on the east coast of England along Lawling Creek. The creek had some nice water at high tide. At low tide it appeared to be about six inches deep and ten feet wide. A mile down the creek was the River Blackwater, and about ten miles further downriver surged the Thames Estuary, the gateway to the English Channel and the North Sea.

The English countryside charmed us with its ordered neatness. The absence of billboards, neon signs and litter was refreshing. Fields were laid out with beautiful hedges and/or stone walls. The land glistened in the brilliant green of August. Names were straight from the Hobbit Trilogy—“Hoarwithy,” “Otterbourne,” “Biggleswade,” etc.

Dan and Nancy were in the same yard working away on “Janetta.” Steve and I had already cruised the South Pacific, and Dan and Nancy had cruised a bit of the North Sea and lots of English chandleries, so it wasn’t long before Steve and Dan had their heads together sharing information and arguing the finer points of caulking and fasteners.

We four lived aboard our boats hauled out in the yard, and sighed over the long tea breaks by the yard workers and the somewhat rainy weather. Dan and Nancy and another American couple worked in tandem with us, and all were very helpful and supportive. Their warm friendship made a world difference in our daily lives.

The yard was run by Mr. Cardnell, who was about sixty years old, and his sister-in law Daisy. They had fond memories of sailing “Syrinx” in the fifties, and had maintained the boat in their yard for the twenty years since. Occasionally a pair of us would dash off in one of Dan’s two Austin Minis to London or elsewhere for bolts, anchors, steering vanes, sails, etc. Often we would stay in London near Hyde Park at my brother’s luxury flat, plush with antiques and beautiful oriental rugs.

In mid-Sept. I wrote to my dad, “Praise the Lord, the barometer seems to be up slightly, and though it is rather grim and chilly outside, perhaps it will not rain today.” We refinished and re-rigged the mast, copper-sheathed the deadwood, replaced through-hulls, refastened the plank ends, did some engine work, some topside work, some bottom side work, etc.

Finally by the end of Sept. the two boats were floated in Lawling Creek. “Janetta” was launched first and looked the lovely lady that she is. “Syrinx” looked pretty disreputable. She was down by the stern due to her new heavier engine. The teak decks and varnish-work were grimy with years of coal dust. But as we motored down the creek away from Maylandsea under rare blue skies with towering white clouds, we rejoiced to be afloat again at last.

We joined Dan and Nancy down the river in the harbor at Heybridge Basin, and tied up alongside them. Heybridge Basin featured two pubs and a boat yard, and we were surrounded by some beautiful old Thames River spritsail barges. The harbor was just inside the beginning of a canal with lock gates at either end to protect the boats from the fifteen to twenty-foot tides. Weeks passed as we worked away on boat projects. Our new sails arrived, and we went for test sails. We would bike or drive a couple of miles into Malden for groceries, etc.

Dan determined his favorite bakery and his favorite bread, and would get a loaf every morning. He also had his favorite English teas. We all developed a passion for Quality Street English Toffees. Dan and Nancy routinely shared meals and adventures with us. They were very generous with their friendship and enthusiasm.

Towards the end of Nov., after a month struggling with defunct electrical systems, we followed Dan and Nancy down to Tollesbury Marina, where the clubhouse had hot showers, laundry room and bar. Such luxury! There the North wind blew in gale force for two weeks, with a quarter inch of ice on the decks and floats. We stayed cozy and snug in the boats with our oil-fired heaters and, of course in the clubhouse and bar!

In early December Steve and I decided to make the sail down the English Channel to the South Coast. We were quite ready to be headed for the tropics. Dan and Nancy volunteered to crew, despite the fact that Nancy was by then four months pregnant with Jessica. (Was she conceived in the boatyard?)

The Thames Estuary is a region known for its vicious chop and treacherous lurking sandbars. The tide runs up and down twenty feet. One consults the tide book like a Bible before even considering a voyage. At that time of year the sun rose at 8:00 and set at 3:30, which didn’t really give us much daylight to work with.

We motored up to Harwich in the afternoon on the tide, and moored overnight. We left before dawn, spent an hour aground, and then slid thru the Straits of Dover just after dark. Steve and I had come down with colds before leaving, Nancy’s pregnancy made her seasick, and we all had to put up with the leaky teak decks.

Steve and I had made this passage from London to the South Coast the previous August, when we had hot sunshine and bright stars. Now it was bitter cold, but the steering vane took care of the tiller, so all we had to do was to keep one eye on the compass and our other eye out for ships. That first night out “Syrinx” pounded to weather in a rising wind under frosty stars. Dan and Steve put two reefs in the main and a reef in the jib. Below the little heater glowed, and mittens and socks hung about it.

During my watch that night there were about a dozen ships that were also catching the tide down the Channel, and we sailed at a very oblique angle right across the shipping lane. Those giant ships overtook and passed us on either side. Plus, to add a little extra handicap, there were a coupled of big hovercraft ferries shuttling across at ninety degrees to the flow. Once we had rounded Dover, we sailed from point to point down and along the English coast, staying inshore of the shipping lanes.

This was what I wore on watch: tee shirt, shirt, sweater, ski jacket, foul weather top, long undies, jeans, foul weather bottoms, two pairs of socks, rubber boots, ski hat with hood over, dish towel over my lower face and neck (pinned behind), and wool mittens with water-proof mittens over.

The next day we sailed past the Isle of Wight, ran out of wind, and motored through the next night in a flat calm. What a contrast! After a lazy sunny afternoon’s sail off the gorgeous Devon-Cornish coast we arrived in Plymouth. As we motored into the marina, we ran out of fuel. Later we discovered that the fuel tanks, which were supposed to hold 20 gallons each, actually held 12. It was still calm, so we put the dinghy in, and Dan cheerfully rowed us into the commercial docks.

Plymouth was a beautiful place with lots of hills, and reminded me of a very small San Francisco. For four days Steve and Dan worked on the engine and repaired leaks in the foredeck We especially enjoyed the Plymouth public baths. We bought more gear, including a Seagull outboard. Then we motored in a light drizzle and calm down to Falmouth. There Dan and Nancy left us to return to “Janetta” in Essex.

After four months of being close neighbors, we were very sorry to see such fine friends go. It would be a couple of years before we would see them again in the Virgin Islands, but they already held and continue to hold a place in our hearts that defies years, distance, and now Dan’s passing.

With love, from June and Steve

2008-08-19T20:23:00.000-07:00

Dear Nancy, Jessica, Brian, Renee Daniel, and all,

What words can express the feelings of love, friendship, sadness, inspiration, anger, unity? I struggle with this. Over the last few days of swirling emotions, memories have come up that I would like to share.

I called the Dryden home a few years ago to find Daniel. Dan answered. Daniel was not around but instead of taking a message, Nancy joined on the other phone and we all talked for 45 minutes. For those 45 minutes I was cradled in love, understanding, advice, compassion, curiousity, wisdom. I had never talked to a friends parents for 45 minutes on the phone before. Nancy, you and Dan were some of the first adults I was able to call true friends, independent of your children and for that I thank you. That has been a big deal for me as a growing 20 something young man. So caring.

I have also had the fortune of spending a lot of time over recent years at your home, including many very formative times, recuping from and reflecting on adventures, thinking, making plans for the next days work, adventure, or project. Sharing meals and hard work and inner thoughts and admiration for all the beauty that surrounds us. I like to think Dan wouldn't have it any other way. Yesterday morning I again woke your home, the sacred space that you all have created and shared. It was quiet, peaceful, silently ringing of Dan's exquistite attention to detail, his thoughtfullness, his welcoming hugs, his passion for living fully, his deep laugh at a good story.

Last summer we all went to Chitna to dipnet. A family trip, (and in case you didn't know, there are a lot of us who feel like your family regardless of decent). I had just finished a NOLS trip and was struggling to transition back to town life when you invited me. It was just what I needed, time with loving people, out on a adventure together. After all the pee breaks and searching for a good spot and fishing like crazy all night, I remember walking the five miles back to the truck, thankful that Brian had shuttled all the fish and gear out on the 4-wheeler allowing the rest of us, tired, happy, carefree, to walk in the sun, chatting, walking silently, admiring the Copper River, at peace, Dan's keen eyes finding a knife along the road, happy to have just spent time in cold water, filleting and cooking and joking and teaming up and poking around on a fishwheel at the end of a random dirt road....with each other.

And memories of Dan's twinkly eyes, always eager to hear the story from adventures Daniel, myself and others were having. His help with our projects, teaching, asking questions and demanding his tools be cared for and respected. Of his hours on the phone in the office spent advocating for the Sutton community. So caring.

Know that your home is being looked after. Know that light and love are enveloping you all. Know that you all and Dan have been beside me during some of the hardest times of my life. And for that I thank you. May we all continue to be beside each other, whether in spirit, thought, or body, through our magnificent journey's here and beyond.

With my love,

Sam N.

2008-08-18T01:01:00.001-07:00

From Bob, Lin and Sean Korns

We think of Dan as “Bigger than Life”, a Swash Buckling Hero” from

an Errol Flynn movie from the 40’s. We could hear Dan now saying, “Hey Matey, What’s happening down there?”- Almost like a character from a new Disney movie such as “Pirates of the Caribbean”. But Dan was always the “good guy”.

Back in 1974-‘75 time frame Dan and Nancy arrived in a Milk Truck at our small home in Sunnyvale, Ca. Over the next few days we shared many memories. We were driving back from Santa Cruz late one night. We were starving and really hungry and ended up stopping at Round Table Pizza Parlor at 10:00PM ready to eat anything-even the cardboard box the pizza came in! After much discussion we ordered an “extra large” pizza with everything on it. We told the guy behind the counter that Dan & Nancy were newlyweds on their way to Alaska in a converted milk truck. Being Santa Cruz,-that was all they needed to hear! After a long 30 minute wait, the pizza was ready! This extra large pizza was like nothing we have seen before or since! It would have made the Guinness Book of Records as the heaviest Pizza made this side of The Milky Way! No kidding. It was at least 6 inches high in the center with a ton of veggies and salami on top. Dan’s eyes lit up.-Actually, we did a little “lighting up” of our own over an hour before. Now you can understand why we were sooo HUNGRY!! We gave a large tip for that 20 pound pizza. Ha! It was a Great Time indeed!

The next day we drove to Gilroy, about 30 miles south of our home. Dan and Nancy wanted to do some horseback riding. Having never been on a horse before, Bob voted to stay home and sort out the garage, but as usual got out voted-and boy was he glad he did! Lin’s co-worker, Robin, was staying on a ranch for the summer that was 400 acres in size. They had 30 to 40 horses so it looked like a Dan- type opportunity. We checked out the horses, and Lin asked for the mellowest one. David, Robin’s husband, pointed out one of the horses that was a mean son of a gun! He had never been ridden and had actually tossed off the owner’s top hand. Dan came to the rescue. It was music to his ears. He immediately said, “That horse is for me!” David warned Dan, but you know Dan, once he makes up his mind nothing can stop him. Dan asked for a pail of oats. The horse was by himself about 100 feet away on the other side of the corral. Dan walked out towards the horse and left the bucket in the middle of the field. He turned around and slowly walked away from the horse towards us, slowly turning around twice to see what the Wild Stallion was up to. After a few minutes the horse went to the bucket, and by God, he ate the whole thing! Now Dan, being the wise man he is, slowly walked up to the horse with a bridal and horse blanket under his arms. He talked in a very calm low voice to the horse, put his hand on his back and gently put the horse blanket on him. Next he attached the bridal. In one motion, Dan got up on the horse, and they were one! He took off this way, and that, but within one minute we knew who was “top dog” so to speak and it wasn’t the horse. Dan rode him around the perimeter of the large corral three times. As he approached us, David was amazed. No one else was able to do what Dan had done in a

total elapsed time of 5 minutes. Now we see why Nancy married Dan. She had no chance. Dan won her over a long time ago!!

Several members of the family experienced a birthday celebration with us when they visited us in the 70’s whether it was their Birthday or not! Ha! We use to have this place called Farrell’s Ice Cream Parlor in Sunnyvale. Little did Dan know that we had called in advance to tell them this hombre, by the name of Daniel Dryden, was having a birthday. We told Nancy that we were going out for an ice cream for dessert. Once we arrived and the doors closed it was like being in another world. You know, “The Twilight Zone”. As Dan sat down in a booth with us, the lights dimmed and flickered. Fire engine sirens went off, and over the LOUD speaker we heard. “This is Dan Dryden’s one and only 32^nd Birthday!” They put this weird hat, - sort of like a dunce cap, on Dan and then had him stand up on a stool. Pretty COOL don’t you think? Then these 6 accomplices came out with an ice cream cake with candles burning on it. They then began to sing “Happy Birthday to Dear Old Dan!” His face became bright red like we had never seen before. We were lucky to have survived that night!!

We will remember Dan always having a smile on his face, a firm handshake, a twinkle in his eye and a hearty laugh! His voice and laugh were out of a western movie. We can still imagine hearing him say, “Gettie up little doggie” to his horse. Dan certainly got the most out of life. He made daily living an adventure-whether riding that wild horse, eating that wild pizza or crazy birthday ice cream cake, or sailing a boat on the open seas!

We remember when Dan and Nancy were living in the U.K. Nancy told us about this wooden sail boat called the “Janetta”. A lot of hard work went into fixing her up for her maiden voyage out on the English Channel. Nancy had polished the brass, sanded and sealed the decks and even made stain glass windows for her. We think those windows ended up at Mom’s house in Glenmont for several years on the entry porch. So, as Dan was letting the wind catch the sails out on the Channel, he noticed water coming into the boat. Within seconds a helicopter was filming the emergency from the air. They even made it to the 6:00 News. Doesn’t this sound like a “Huckleberry Fin” adventure? Dan would have it no other way!!!

Dan always liked a good joke. He also liked to get into a discussion about politics- a Korns/Dryden habit that continues to this day. Of course- the discussion and emotions were always enhanced by a little wine, - then a little more, etc., etc. After all, you have to wet the vocal cords with something!

So now as we reflect back on Dan, we think of a character out of Daniel Boone,- an old black and white movie perhaps from the 50’s, or even a character from Disney’s Pirates of the Caribbean. You can just hear him saying: “Come on Mateys, we have a long voyage to make today. Let us hoist up the sails and push off Lads”. “Time is a wasting! Let us get the most out of this adventure called life!”

God bless you Dan wherever you are! -Every time we have a glass of wine, we should make a toast to you, and count ourselves lucky for having passed each other on this short trip on earth this time around. “Aye, aye Matey!”

Thank you Dan for all the great memories and good laughs.

We Love and Miss You!

2008-08-18T00:35:00.000-07:00

“”No one could ask for a better friend than Dan Dryden.” I know those would have been the words from my late husband, Doug Moak. They were close friends from grade school through senior high and beyond! Dan and Doug could stay up all night, and often did, conversing about everything from religion to car engines. I am devastated by the news of Daniel and what Nancy had to endure. Dan and Nancy’s family is in my heart and prayers.

Jennie Moak-Piazza

To my sister and I, Dan was always "mom and dad's friend", but even when we were very young, we knew that he had become our friend, too. There was never any "gap" with Dan, whether it be between your age and his, or how long it had been since you had seen Dan last, he could converse with you with the honest warmth of a best friend which had been by your side every day. The words "Dan Dryden is in town ..." would make you drop whatever other plans you had and try to see him. Every moment spent with Dan was a cherished life experience.

Jack and Penny Moak

2008-08-13T11:59:00.000-07:00

There are many things I want to say about my special relationship with Dan, my brother-in-law ... but I'll save them for another time. I just thought I'd share (for now) something that happened the day Dan died. Late in the afternoon last Saturday, I bought more-or-less on impulse a lovely silk handmade rug for my home (which will soon be having bare oak floors). Dan was still alive at the time ... and I will always think of my handsome purchase as "his" rug. It is Dan's magic carpet .... covered with colorful birds and butterflies and flowers and vines ... and I like to think of him sitting tall on it, flying over us all, smiling down on us as we live our lives fully like he did. May we carry his wonderful example forever.

Julie Kelly (Nancy's sister)

When I think of Dan I smell fresh baked bread first thing in the morning. For the many nights that I spent at his home, he would meticulously prepare some wonderful dough and set the timer on the bread maker for the moment his fine family would awake. In anticipation of the next sweet smelling morning, he would go to sleep, or maybe he would spend most of the night talking and thinking.

Dan had an immense intellectual curiosity about every nuance of life. It makes me happy to think of other truck drivers affectionately calling him “The Professor.” I can’t think of many more appropriate names for him. I would often tell others that Dan was a true sage. I have learned more from his informal lessons and explorations than from any teacher or professor I have ever had. I have shared many deep thought provoking conversations with Dan often lasting through most of the night. I am certainly not alone.

His constant teaching and learning, zest for life, and love for others taught me so much over the last 25 years. He was a second father to me, and I would not be surprised if there were many others who felt the same way, in fact I am sure of it. Man, that guy lived! I swear that he packed at least a few lifetimes into his 66 years. I really can’t believe he was that old. These newspaper articles talk about him as a 66 year old. Nothing could be further from the truth. Dan was the youngest 66 year-old I will likely ever know. I have vivid memories of running down Lazy Mountain with him and Daniel. He would show us how to find little knobs of dirt and grass to do front flips off of. He would land without missing a beat and keep his pace of descent. He must have been into his 50s during these days.

In the last year there was a recent MEA meeting that became heated and afterwards Angie Wade was asking her son Kaylan what he thought of it all. I will always remember his reply, ”Mom, it was great! It was a real Dan Dryden meeting!” Dan cared about his family, his friends, his community, and just people in general. He was a constant voice of well-researched and knowledgeable reason in many public debates. He was always well spoken and prepared in sharing his views. Dan’s advocacy in all matters pertaining to this Valley will be sorely missed.

Early on in my relationship with Dan and his family I was encouraged to always feel welcome in their house and to never knock. Just come in and say hello and help yourself to some of the best food you will eat. And I did just that on many occasions for many years. Dan and Nancy fed me some of the best and most diverse home cooked meals one could ever have. They constantly opened their hearts and home to family and friends. Often guests there would ask how they could repay the Drydens for their hospitality. I remember once hearing Dan say that he would ask that they pass it on to other travelers in their own homes. Words cannot begin to express the loss of his immense life and presence to all of us. It would be an absolute understatement to say that Dan touched so many lives in a truly profound way. Maybe one of the best ways to honor and remember his unique and loving spirit would be to pass on the friendship, hospitality, and love he shared with so many of us to his family, our families, friends, neighbors, and fellow humans. I can think of no more fitting tribute.
Robert Black

My earliest memory of Dan is, crazy as it sounds, as a doll -- an anatomically correct doll which resembled him, purchased at the wonderfully funky Fox Hollow folk music and arts festival in upstate New York. Already, Dan was starting to resemble a "tribal elder", as our friend Bob Levine so aptly put it in a recent email.

In 1981, I was eleven years old, and my father had died just a few months before. You might think that I would remember that summer as the worst of my life, but actually it was the best. Why? Because I joined Dan, Nancy, little Jessica, and baby Daniel on their sailboat Janetta, for the sail up the Hudson River, and then stayed with them on the Dryden farm in Feura Bush for almost a month. My most vivid memory us when Dan had me mow a lawn, and then he paid me for the work, but only after he made sure I mowed the lawn right. I had never before been paid to accomplish a specific task, nor had I ever been made to keep doing it until I learned to get it right. Dan saw a boy who could use some teaching, and he gently but firmly set about that teaching task.

A few years ago, my mother Julie related how Dan had asked her some focused questions about ballet -- just about the last thing you might expect Dan to be interested in. But that was his way -- he was curious about so many things, and truly strived to learn something through and through. He was rigorous.

Because he was so rigorous, when he complemented you, it counted for a lot. Luckily for me, I was the recipient of one of his complements the last day we were toghether, as Jessica and Brian's wedding celebration came to a close. He liked my (in his words) ability to choose music which fit the mood of the household from one hour to the next. It might not sound like much, but it meant something to me -- again, because he was rigorous.

-- Dan's nephew John Kelly

The first time I met Dan, I remember his bright beaming blue eyes accompanied by his huge smile, welcoming me into their home in Sutton AK. It was a crisp fall night and I was bundled. Dan greeted me at the door and invited me in ( what an amazingly cozy home). From that day forward I felt at home in their family house. I soon realized many people felt the same way. I had the pleasure joining the whole family on many occasions for meals and heated discussions, Boxing Day and birthday parities, community council meetings, Sutton Historical Park work parties and casual encounters at the homestead. At these gatherings, every chance I got, I would corner Dan and quiz him endlessly about whatever life or work project I was working on. In my mind, Dan knew everything, could do anything and had done most everything, for me he was the perfect father figure to offer objective advice, Alaskan style. Dan was a huge part of our community and touched so many of us. I feel blessed to have had the opportunity to know Dan.

Dan’s magnetic personality, unmatched work ethic, powerful intellect, honest strength, deep courage, strong conviction and unending passion for life are qualities that defined him as man, father, and husband.

These qualities also define the whole Dryden family- a legacy- whom many of us look to, as a prime example of how to love one another as a family, and be an active part of the community.

Jeremiah and I are holding all of you tightly in our hearts. Not a moment goes by that we don’t think of you and share with one another how grateful we are to have you in our lives. We will continue to send prayers to Dan as he travels on his journey and to each of you.

Loving you and hugging you all from afar,

Kim & Jeremiah

I don’t know exactly when it was that I met Dan but my strongest memories of him are from when we were fighting the good fight to protect the Matanuska Valley from the threat of Coal Bed Methane drilling. I found myself thrust into the midst of a controversy of proportions that I had never experienced before, and the energy of it wore heavily on my spirit.

Dan would stop by our offices at Chickaloon Village or I would see him around town, and he would always engage me in conversation about CBM. My spirit was always lifted by the end of every conversation with Dan. He exuded an innocent, intellectual, almost urgent curiosity about all things CBM. He would get this look on his face when we discussed particularly technical scientific concepts that still makes me laugh when I think about it. It appeared to me that he felt I was speaking golden nuggets of knowledge… I could see the wheels turning inside his head as he figured out where my information fit into his understanding. Dan’s adamant sense of social justice also helped strengthen my resolve to continue on despite my discouragement and exhaustion in the face of what I and the community considered to be an obvious misuse of power by the state.

I did not know Dan for very long, and I am struck by how deeply he has touched my life. News of his death reached Key West local newspapers two days ago, and I have been unable to keep my composure long enough to put together my thoughts until today, for that I apologize. My love and thoughts have been you Nancy, Jessica, Brian and the entire community of Sutton since I first heard the news. Dan, I am sure is approaching his ‘new’ life with his usual zest, humor, and love…

Sending you all love and comfort from afar…

Jennifer McGill

2008-08-12T12:48:00.000-07:00

Go back with me to the late 60's early 70's. Dan was traveling between Alaska, Canada, and the NW lower 48. I learned very quickly that if he asked you to make something he needed, you were in for a major production. Sample button holes would be made and pulled until they pulled apart. He wanted waterproof cloth bags for his cooking utensils that could keep grease or soot from getting on anything else if he couldn't wash the pans.

I wanted him to have reflective tape on his dark clothing when he was hitchhiking so he wouldn't get hit by a car and so he could be seen early enough for some one to stop and pick him up. He pointed out there were times he didn't want to be seen! So I made a sleeve with ellastic at both ends to be pulled on over his coat sleeve. It had a big reflective- tape arrow on t allowing him to bend his arm and try pointing up, out , or down to see which worked best for stopping cars or trucks. He headed out for months without hearing from him. HE knew he was fine , WE weren't sure if he ever made it.

Dan got work surveying the road north from Wasilla and watched the big, warm trucks going up the highway. it sure beat standing in the snow and wind. he wrote the teamsters union number on a large piece of cardboard and stood on the highway outside of Wasilla with a big smile on his face and his thumb out. A rig quickly stopper for this "trucker". He rode along talking about wanting to drive and ended up switching seats and going up the haul road and back with him and other drivers. he took his test, got his license, joined the union and headed out.

then came the time they wanted to learn more about what each did. nancy took a notebook , climbed in with dan and interviewed truckers for her " book " at fuel and food stops. Then Dan put on a white coat and became an "associate" and saw the people she worked with.

they were definately a pair!

and the best part of all is that this gene pool lives on in jessica and daniel who seem to have gotten the best of both. Call on me , Nancy, Jess, Daniel, Brian and rene,- anytime, anywere.(I cant guarantee quality.....)

all of you are so loved.

alma

This is Bobby Levine.

John and Sam's best friend, and brother from New York.

I can't put into words the shock and horror I feel for Dan and all of you.

What compounds these feelings for me is that we recently spent such a wonderful time together at the celebration of John and Sam's marriage in New York. In fact, I probably spent more time with the Drydens than I did the Kellys. But because of you, I felt like a Kelly.

I have such a vivid memory of sitting around the pool late a night and all of us were surounding Dan, almost like a tribal elder as he told of life in Alaska, recalling Daniel's premature birth, the great work Jessica and Brian are doing and your recent trip to Italy.

On behalf of my family, who have known and loved John since he was in diapers, you can be assured that you are in the thoughts of people as far away as New York.

2008-08-12T11:33:00.001-07:00

I’ve known Dan for over 20 yrs. Dan worked on the pipeline construction and had contacts inFairbanks in the late 70’s. Richard Feinberg was a friend of Nancy’s and he knows many details of the early years. Dan has driven truck hauling materials throughout Alaska. Growing up on a farm in New York gave him his background of creating their home in Sutton. They purchased the land from the borough building their log home while living in a small travel trailer (guest house still on the premises). He has volunteered in our community for many years serving on the community council and helping at the historical park. He has spent time with Johnny Luster guiding hunters and with members of theChickaloon Village. Forever diligent in details and desiring all work to be done with the finest of effort, he will be missed by our community. His intelligence and sense of moral obligation were a strong foundation for any and all of his work. He loved adventure; was a great equestrian; taught me how to sail a small catamaran; loved the sun and our beautiful scenery. He hiked the mountains; was not afraid to climb mountains, rock cliffs, ride his bicycle to town or downhill ski black diamond slopes. He made friends wherever he traveled. It is truly difficult to sum up a man’s, a dear friend’s life, in an e-mail. I will miss him dearly Lynne

From Betty Bell & Doug Henson
Remembering Dan's Creation at their home on the Mexican Riviera.

We have pulled up all of the beautiful pictures & writings of Dan's wonderful life and wanted to add one of our most outstanding memories of Dan. We call it "DAN'S WINDOW".

On his and Nancy's visits to our Shangri-la on the Mexican Riviera, Dan had commented several times about the beauty of everything. He especially was intrigued by the 150 acre fresh water lake which we parallel for several miles on our entry road, but was hidden from view by the lush jungle vegetation.

All of us know how much Dan loves uncovering a mystery, so one day he suggested we open a window to the lake. We stopped by the road at the spot Dan decided was the best and with sweat and determination, Doug and Dan, tamed the jungle just enough to open a large window revealing the lake. When opened, the window made visible not only an exquisite little jewel of a lake, but an island that had been hiding for years.

This window to the lake is named & called by all - "DAN'S WINDOW"! Every time a guest passes by Dan’s Window, we tell them the story as they peer through to the beautiful lake. This has been going on for years and will continue far into the future, enhancing the legend of our wonderful Dan!

All our loving thoughts,

Doug Henson, Betty Bell, Chris, Stephanie, Alyssa & Tessa Hendrie

2008-08-12T11:30:00.000-07:00

I first met Dan and the Dryden family in June of 2002. It was my first visit to Alaska and Robert had told me tons of amazing stories about the Drydens, who he had described like a second family. The stories had so much zest and were so grandiose that I was sure they must have been embellished, which didn’t matter to me because they were still wonderful stories. However, after meeting the family, I quickly learned that the stories weren’t, nor did they need to be enhanced.

Robert had told me about these late night summer dinners, perhaps as late as midnight, with warm energy and delicious food. To end my skepticism that was still lingering at this point, Robert felt that the best way for me to meet the Dryden’s was at one of these dinners. So at about 11 pm, as I was still shocked and in complete awe of this unfamiliar late daylight, we pulled up to the Dryden’s. The home site was spectacular and unlike anything I could have imagined. We hadn’t called to announce our visit, but the moment Dan and Nancy saw us they were so unbelievably warm, welcoming, and enthusiastic. And, we were just in time for an 11:30 pm dinner! Robert’s stories were not only factual, but in fact, they were dull in comparison with the true energy that Dan and Nancy exuberated. Dan’s presence had an energy that could not be felt through a description with words.

We quickly got into story telling, and Robert and I told Dan and Nancy how we met. And I can still recall that moment like it was yesterday, Dan’s deep and beautiful and continuous laughter. (It’s actually making me laugh right now as I am writing this just remembering his smiley face and laughter from that night.) His laughter and spirit were contagious and it was immediately evident from this experience that Dan’s presence and energy was truly unique.
As others have already mentioned on this site, his passionate, caring, loving, open-minded, fun-natured, youthful, warm heart truly touched all those around him. I could share so many other seemingly magnificent stories about times I was fortunate enough to share with Dan, but they too would pale in comparison with the true events and what his presence brought to the experience and my life. I may have only been able to enjoy Dan’s life since 2002, but it only took moments in his presence for him to make an everlasting impact on mine.

Over the years, I have witnessed how Dan and Nancy not only touch the lives of all those they meet, but how they truly better the community. And one of the biggest ways they have done this, is not just through the countless, selfless hours that they have dedicated to meetings, workshops, and so many other community events, but through the amazingly strong, caring, kind, giving, and open-minded children that they raised. As Alma stated, Dan “lives on in Jessica and Daniel who seem to have gotten the best of both parents,” and I couldn’t agree more.

Dryden Family – Thank you so much for all that you have shared. I am so thankful and feel so fortunate to have met you all. Dan’s (and your entire family’s) essence has made more of an impact on my life than you could possibly imagine. I love you all so much, I am praying for you, and am here to help in any way possible.

Lots and Lots of Love,

Lisa

Dryden Family,

What can I say? Where should I start? I'm going to skip over all the talk about being shocked and saddened by the news and cut straight to the chase. To the extent that I knew Dan, Sr., I have to say that he was one of the nicest, open, caring, non-judgmental people I have ever met. He exuded positive energies and happiness every time I ran into him. He was one of the very few people I have ever met in life that gave the impression that any young person that set foot on his property or within his sphere of influence was going to be treated like one of his own children... literally. He did that for me and my brothers. He seemed genuine in asking how your life was going, in showing concern for who you were and where you were going. He seemed to relish having extra people around to talk to and, I think the best word is, to "commune" with. I always got the impression he would give the shirt off his back if it was truly necessary. I know this sounds cliche, but in this case I really mean it: the world needs many more people like Dan Dryden. I am flabbergasted when I think of a world where everyone was more like him-- open-minded, never given to hatred, hard-working, responsible, loving, always seeking harmony and new frontiers, and always willing to lend a helping hand-- and I think what I wonderful world that would be. Well, I hope you all take comfort in knowing he spread those values to many people you would not have realized.

Josh Keil

Dear Dan

The words I should have said before this moment came,

(dysfunctionally typical the moments NOT to seize!),

already so inimical, our world is on its knees

to hear my oldest friend is dead and nothing is the same.

You knew I loved you – words so free and easy to send forth –

we knew we shared uncommon ties,

you knew how much respect,

surrounded by such blatant lies,

your truth I could expect

embodied all I hoped to be – a human of real worth.

A few long Irish days ago we shared that hectic week,

Desirees intimations that this might well be our last,

your driving sense of urgency, (your driving rather fast!),

there is no way that we can know what Destiny will wreak.

How Chance or Fate connected us in Richard Branson’s den,

(enquiring mind and roving soul are challenging to bear,

though easier in part control when kindred spirits share),

I bless the suns that shone on us, the happen(happy)stance of then,

and all the ventures that ensued enriched beyond assay,

my humble life by you imbued with more than I can say.

What pain your passing spreads across the oceans and the lands,

the countless scores of grieving hearts who surely must have seen

a man so rich in many parts (?ports!) and blessed with such a queen,

the devastation of our loss at care less callous hands.

Ofttimes we moan and rail our lot, so little apprehend;

let living be to living good with all the strength we have,

this world cannot be what it should, be each of us so brave,

but hope and love should falter not till our uncertain end.

If only you could hear us now, if only you could speak,

or travel back in time somehow by just a little week,

could set your sail so differently to quite another shore,

instead we grasp reluctantly you’ve merely gone before.

With our love & prayers for you all, Richard & Desiree, France

2008-08-12T11:29:00.000-07:00

The details of dans life and dans qualities are a much larger part of the story than the occurrence of his death. If you feel led to share a memory ,a quote that dan lived by or recall a time period of dans life . email me at

blackbirdpromotions@gmail.com

and i will try to post it on the site.

maybe i can even find some photos that match the time period.

this information may be used to direct the press into who dan was.

thanks

jason ovebry