Dan Ross Edmonson

14 Sept 2006 – Dan died sometime last night. Charles, my other brother-in-law called this morning to tell me. Becky and I did what we have done so many times lately – went through our check lists and hooked onto our fifth wheel. This time though we were not headed to our next adventure but to be with Dan’s family as they prepared for his funeral. It was not a trip we looked forward to.

Dan was my brother-in-law for as long as I remember. I have a vague remembrance of his marriage to my sister, Dot, but very vague. He was 20 years older but for most of my life we seemed much closer in age. They lived in the same town with Mother and Dad and me for only a few years but lived about 50 miles away for several more years before moving to California. In spite of that, I grew to know him quite well as the two families were frequently together.

After moving to California Dan always scheduled what little vacation he had for the summer when his three daughters were out of school so they could all come back to Arkansas to visit us and his parents (driving straight through he could make it in around 24 hours). During these visits it was always mandatory that Dan, Dad and I went to the river to take a float trip and fish. For us fishing always meant fly fishing. The legend according to Dan was that it took at least 3 years paddling Dad and watching him fly fish before anyone was qualified to be in the front of the boat fly fishing himself. True or not, we all DID paddle my Dad and we all DID learn a lot about fly fishing by watching the expert.

When the recession hit Arkansas in the 50’s and Dad could not find work, Dad went out to California and lived with Dan and my sister so he could support me and my mother. I know that could not have been easy for Dan but he never mentioned it. A decade later I was ready to leave Arkansas but did not have a lead on a job. I went to California and lived with Dan and my sister for two years working for the city of Barstow at a job they had matched me up with. Again Dan never mentioned this.

Those two years allowed me get to know Dan about as well as a person can know another one. We worked together, hunted together, went to lodge together and, obviously, lived together. I got married after two years but continued to live in Barstow and have a close relationship with Dan for another 12 years. As best I know we never had an argument or disagreement. Believe me, I am a pretty easy going guy today but I am definitely not THAT easy and was certainly not that easy then. Dan was just that easy to get along with. Hardly anyone reading this Blog knew my mother. However, trust me when I say she was the total opposite side of Dan when it comes to ‘getting along with’. I know of very few people in her life she did not manage to find fault with (definitely including her three children!). That makes it just about miraculous that she NEVER spoke a bad word about Dan. I must admit I envied him that distinction sometime but never enough to emulate him. Without speaking out of turn and with all my love for my sister, his love and understanding of her over all the years they were married is yet another example of the kind of man he was – one of a kind.

As we travel the almost 1000 miles from Yellowstone National Park to 29 Palms, California, I have had plenty of time to remember my times with Dan. They have been sad times and happy times (the memories – not the times; the times were ALL happy). I needed that time I think as it will be hard to find the time to just REMEMBER once we get to 29 Palms. I miss him already but have MANY good times to reflect on. I did not see him very often over the past 20 years but I always knew what to expect when I saw him – the same old Dan, steady, unique, somewhat of a character with his handle bar mustache and grey hair, slow speech and movements, full of ‘old sayings’ from his Arkansas youth and always, always, honest, good hearted, a good father and husband and, for me, good brother-in-law. I know you are in our Father’s house now receiving your just reward and still being just Dan.
Thanks for everything. I hope you knew how special you were to me. It was always nice to be called ‘Young Fellow’ no matter how old I became! I’ll miss you.