Remembering Dan

As I was driving home last Sunday right at sunset I happened to be approaching Leverett Rd. The sun was a perfect deep orange disc just sitting on the edge of the world. I had my camera so I thought that I should try to capture that gorgeous image. I turned onto Leverett and tried desperately to find an angle where the sun would be in the background of the silos where the railroad crosses to no avail. I sped further West hoping to at least capture the sun on the horizon but the towering stalks of corporate bred corn blocked all hope.

Here is the shot I got.

Leverett Road

Obscurity and phantoms are all that we can see at times and our actions take turns that are unfathomable.

This picture was composed and taken by Miriam Martincic, using cacao beans at Dan’s chocolate factory.  I didn’t know Miriam until Dan invited her and her spouse to our last DIMBY dinner.  Bringing us together was one of the last of the many gifts Dan gave to me.

I met Dan at his brother Jonathan’s house in Oakland. This was a year or two ago. My girlfriend Stephanie and I had invited ourselves over to escape the summer San Francisco fog. Dan had been riding his bike all over the Oakland and Berkeley Hills, and he arrived just in time for dessert: Jonathan and Stacey’s homemade mint chocolate chip ice cream, made with fresh mint from their garden. I remember him sitting cross-legged on the floor, still in his cycling garb, wolfing down the ice cream.

Since then I’d get little updates about Dan through Jonathan (we work together at Federated Media). The latest I’d heard was that he was starting to make chocolate. Given his compsci background, I found this really interesting. I have a bad habit of sending people links to things I’ve heard they’re interested in, so back in May, I sent Jonathan a link (for Dan) to this amazing Mast Brothers Chocolate video.

Dan wrote back with the following:

Thanks for this!

My factory will have a long way to go to end up as cool or inviting as the Mast Bs, but I have signed a lease and will be moving in in the next week or so. I’ll be producing a lot more chocolate and could use help marketing/selling it… any services fm can offer?

(btw: I’ll send you + stace some chocolate on Monday, and some office choc too, share it around & see if fm has budget for ‘productivity/mood enhancers’ :)

Tommy and I wrote a front page article on Smile Politely in tribute to Dan today. He was truly something else.

I would also like to add the following quote from Thoreau’s journals (h/t Elisha):

“On the death of a friend, we should consider that the fates through confidence have devolved on us the task of a double living, that we have henceforth to fulfill the promise of our friend’s life also, in our own, to the world.”

Thinking Big

Daniel, you lived more in 24.005 years than most of us will in a lifetime. I can’t believe we were discussing whether or not to knock down the pillars in the Flatlander dining room only a week ago.

Some of what I’ve learned from you:

• How to make chocolate from bean-to-bar. (Sorry the coffee equivalent is so boring in comparison!)
• Olive oil, mushrooms, and salt all go with chocolate. The lard caramels were divine. (Any other wild batches I’m missing?)
• 99% cacoa is not just for masochists.
• Why bother buying furniture when a salvaged oak bathroom-stall door or a 50 lb piece of slate will make a fine table.
• Cold cucumber yogurt soup is really great.
• CU needs a community kitchen.

I will spend a few evenings this week tuning-up a bicycle that’s been sitting in the rafters of the shed of a nearby farm for at least 30 years, so I have something for next Sunday. I may even ride it to work when the mood strikes.

i met dan only over a month ago.  it’s amazing how time flies.  i actually didn’t even realize that i had met him the first time at the farmer’s market.  (i was only visiting champaign for the month) i met him again at a partner’s yoga class where i recognized him from the chocolate tasting that followed.  a group of us had an amazingly funny yoga class w/ interesting yoga moves.  we also made plans to get a tour of his new chocolate factory & do a demo of cacao bean to chocolate bar.  the next day a group of us were determined to wake up early and support dan at the break of dawn at the farmer’s market.   i even manned his stall while he ran over to order a box of peaches.  here, dan invited beth & i to the 1st of the local farmer’s market dinner series in champaign il.  it was a spectacular dinner with a great ambience.  good food, good people, good conversation.  a few days later a group of us joined up for the chocolate tour & demo. we tried out different ingredients: coconut, ginger, salt, cashews, granola, seaweed. we also tried to make drinking chocolate from scratch from a book that dan had read up on.

i was so amazed at how far he’d come and that he was following one of his dreams, one that so many of are afraid to even attempt.  i admire his spirit & his accomplishments.  i hope that we all keep a little of him alive in our memories.  thanks dan for all that you’ve shared with us. for your friendship, your chocolate, and your inspiration.   ( i had secretly hoped that one day that ur dark chocolate would make it into a scrumptious homemade ice cream)  (also, i shared your chocolate with friends and family across the country…they loved it!)

I hardly knew Dan, only having met him twice at the market.  But his demeanor left an instant impression on me.  I felt like he was a genuine person, very kind and certainly passionate about his work.  I just heard the news today and was struck with such sadness for our community’s loss of this very special person.  It is easy to see that he was a very inspirational person to everyone that knew him well, I wish I could have gotten to know him better.  I hope that somehow his ‘legacy’ of Flatlander Chocolate continues through someone that worked closely with him; not only because he made fabulous and interesting chocolate, but also because I think his mission was so important and inspirational.

I’m so sorry for the loss his family and close friends are experiencing.  Would it be odd for a near stranger to participate in his memorial ride?

A couple days ago, I went with some of Dan’s friends to his chocolate factory to sort out whatever personal stuff that he and friends had left there.  To everyone’s surprise we found a batch of milk chocolate sitting in the tempering machine.  This was Dan’s last batch of chocolate, and we knew we couldn’t let it go to waste.  So even though it hadn’t been any part of our plan, we all set to work to finish it up and mold it into bars.

Fortunately, Aaron was with us and had been working with Dan recently, so he knew how to operate the machine and had been instructed by Dan how to mold the chocolate.  As we all knew, Dan was a perfectionist about his chocolate, and Aaron tried to explain the precise, jerky, Devo-like motions that Dan had demonstrated as the proper technique for filling the molds.  (I wouldn’t be surprised if Dan had the math to model the proper motion on a computer worked out in his head.)  We all took a turn and tried our hand at it, but, needless to say, we all failed spectacularly, messily, and uproariously.  Covering the molds, the machine, and ourselves with chocolate, Elizabeth finally exclaimed, “Dan has to be laughing his ass off right now!”

It brought home to me that, even though we were making a mess of his last batch of chocolate, this was precisely what Dan wanted, precisely what he envisioned: he wanted that space at the “chocolate factory” filled with people, filled with love and laughter.  Although I’d known Dan for more than a year, I would describe him as a reserved person, as something of a lone visionary.  But while Dan was the quiet center, he wanted to be the hub for all kinds of activity.  He was constantly dreaming up other ways to put his chocolate factory to good use, to bring other people out there.  The asphalt parking lot could be covered with compost and converted into a community garden for people in the neighboring apartments to grow some of their own food.  The dining room of this former pizza parlor could become something of a hippie commune, with people living there.  The fermentation club or “1000-year-old food club” Dan had started could have a library and a home there.  The kitchen space was big enough that it could also accommodate a community kitchen, where Dan could work alongside other entrepreneurs trying to make a business out of their passion for food “with a sense of place.”

Getting just that small taste of what Dan had envisioned made me realize that we need to do what we can to make that dream a reality.  Dan told just about everyone he met about his dream and our need for a community kitchen, so, working together, we are setting up a Flatlander Fund to try and make it happen.  Donations to this fund can be made to Prairie Table, a non-profit that Dan helped resurrect, dedicated to healthy local food systems, and donations are being accepted at the Common Ground Food Co-op, where Dan was a member, bought his supplies, and sold his chocolate.  More information will be forthcoming, as we work out the details, and everyone is welcome to join us in this effort.  After all, that was Dan’s vision.

As for those chocolate bars from Dan’s last batch, our plan is to hand them out at Sunday’s memorial service in Urbana, so everyone can get a taste of Dan’s dream.

Tommy once bet Dan that he couldn’t memorize the first chapter of Ulysses. Being a taker of dares, a lover of Joyce, and unafraid of a challenge, Dan accepted the bet and dove in. A sum of money was put on the line, and Dan had an entire semester to prepare. I was among a fortunate handful of friends who helped him memorize his lines, and encouraged him along on his journey.

By the end of the semester Dan had the whole thing memorized, and had gathered a batch of props to assist him in a public recitation of the piece. Friends gathered on the roof of the Krannert Center at sunset and listened joyfully as Dan spouted Joyce effortlessly and gleefully.

It was never about the bet, it was about the adventure. Like so many other things, Joyce tickled that place in Dan’s heart which delighted in the fringes of modern culture. And like those so many other things, Dan grasped it and brought it alive with an infectious zeal.

I remember stitching together 5 goodwill ties to create what we called a “Power Tie”. I remember rummaging through the deserted household treasures of the Dump-And-Run. I remember Dan’s excited proposals of a big bottle of beer, stove-popped popcorn topped with cocoa powder and cayenne, and one of the lesser known Ingmar Bergman films. I could never refuse.

I was lucky to have been a friend of his, and I can’t believe he’s gone.

I am so sorry for your tremendous lose.  Dan came with Uncle Paul to Thanksgiving 2009.  Most of the “east coast” family hadn’t seen him for many years.  I am so glad Dan made the trip so we could all reconnect with him.  Dan was so kind, sweet and personable with such a passion for his new chocolate venture.  He was such a genuine person and will be missed tremendously.  My love and condolences to the entire family.

Love,

Tracey Okin Meents