Thursday was opening night for a play Leland was in at Lee University and that I did costumes for. Mom and Dad had planned to go that night to see it before Dad was admitted to the hospital. I came by late Thursday night to tell them all about it. Dad was very tired and out of it but he listened as I told him how well it went, what an amazing job Leland did, and how fabulous my costumes looked. He of course gave me a thumbs up (his universal sign for pleasure or approval) when I left. Friday afternoon I went to the hospital to relieve Mom for a few hours. Dad and I watched the golf channel, I asked his opinion about a crossword I was doing, and we just sat together. That was one of my favorite things to do recently. Since the list of things Dad and I could share rapidly declined, I made time just to hang out. I called it co-existing. It didn’t matter if we did anything special – just as long as we did it together. He and I had a TV series (Foyle’s War) that we were watching together (a Netflix membership was Leland and my Father’s Day present to him last year). I’d go over there when Mom had to be out of town since Dad couldn’t be left alone. He would watch me sew costumes and I always apologized for the loud sewing machine. I asked him last Friday if I should audition for a play at ACT (the last play I had done was Christmas Carol with him a year ago – plays were always a thing we loved to share). He responded with an enthusiastic thumbs up. When I left the hospital on Friday, I remembered to tell him and Mom that I had gotten a role in the play. He seemed so pleased. The image of him that I will always have in my head was as I walked out of the room. I said goodbye and Dad struggled to lift his head to look at me and lifted his fingers a few inches off the armrest to wave goodbye. I got the call less than 3 hours later.
At the funeral yesterday, I was floored by the amount of people that had turned out to show their support and love for all that Dad did in his lifetime. I always thought Dad was amazing but I admit that I am slightly biased. The service was just what Dad would have wanted – a homecoming celebration. We will miss him terribly here but we are rejoicing greatly because we know that he is no longer suffering. All glory be to our most Sovereign God who Dad sought to glorify in every action every day of his life.
Thank you all immensely for your loving support and prayers. Many of you shared with us yesterday your favorite memories of Dad and I invite you to post those on here that we all might share in the wonderful memories.
- Forever Danny’s daughter, DeLancey
February 23, 2009 at 5:08 pm
There are so many memories I have of Danny. He was my uncle, but served an even greater role in my life. My dad passed away when I was a baby and my mom remarried when I was ten. For those young years of my life, Danny was a father figure to me. And he stepped back in as a father figure when my step-father, Dick Causby, passed away three years ago from cancer. For the past two days, this song has been in my head by Ray Boltz, which was popular years ago. I can’t help but think of Danny when I read these lyrics… so I decided to post them. Thank you, Danny, for giving to the Lord.
I dreamed I went to Heaven, you were there with me.
We walked upon the streets of gold beside the Crystal Sea.
We heard the angels singing, then someone called your name.
You turned and saw this young man, and he was smiling as he came.
He said, “Friend you may not know me now,” and then he said, “But wait -
You used to teach my Sunday School, when I was only eight.
And every week you would say a prayer before the class would start.
And one day when you said that prayer,
I asked Jesus in my heart.”
Chorus
Thank you for giving to the Lord,
I am a life that was changed.
Thank you for giving to the Lord,
I am so glad you gave.
Then another man stood before you, he said “Remember the time,
A missionary came to your church, His pictures made you cry.
You didn’t have much money but you gave it anyway.
Jesus took that gift you gave
And that’s why I’m in Heaven today”
Chorus
Thank you for giving to the Lord,
I am a life that was changed.
Thank you for giving to the Lord,
I am so glad you gave.
One by one they came, far as your eyes could see.
Each life somehow touched by your generosity.
Little things that you had done, sacrifices that you made,
They were unnoticed on this earth
In Heaven now proclaimed.
Chorus
Thank you for giving to the Lord,
I am a life that was changed.
Thank you for giving to the Lord,
I am so glad you gave.
And I know up in Heaven you’re not supposed to cry
But I am almost sure there were tears in your eyes
As Jesus took your hand and you stood before the Lord
He said “My child look around you,
Great is your reward.”
Chorus
Thank you for giving to the Lord,
I am a life that was changed.
Thank you for giving to the Lord,
I am so glad you gave,
I am so glad you gave.
February 23, 2009 at 9:03 pm
I think your post was pretty legit. I enjoyed in a great deal.
February 23, 2009 at 11:01 pm
Ur dad led me to Christ in 3rd grade while I was at Camp Hi Life. He continued to be a great influence in my life for many many years. There was a time when he had the wrong view of me, actually made me pray for my own forgiveness for something that – I had NO CLUE I had actually done… But… I have always admired him and when he did his “why me” sermon, I could hardly speak. I always wanted to clarify some things for him, but now I know that, in God’s presence, he knows exactly what I felt the need to say to him. Besides…. That wonderful man who led me to Christ is drawing me closer even still. After his homecoming!! I am thankful that the trumpets sounded and gave his weary body some rest… But, oh my, what a testimonial man of God we will miss here on earth! My prayers are with you all!!!!!!! I hope that Danny’s blog will stay up and running for years to come! What enlightened insight to the scriptures of our Lord!!! I especially LOVE the posts from Christmas!
February 24, 2009 at 11:06 am
Hey guys!
Posted a blog last night about your Dad. His legacy is my inspiration!
Love ya, mean it!
Coach Mac
http://www.nosubstituteforguts.blogspot.com
February 24, 2009 at 9:57 pm
I’ve got to second Watts, DeLancey. I really enjoyed this post; and…I guess this means I’d best write one as well, if we’re going to all do one. Make Perry write one first, though…I don’t want people to tell how much better she writes! =D
February 24, 2009 at 10:09 pm
Some of the memories that stick out in my head the most are of us traveling in Europe, and how Danny was always our navigator. A few years ago when we fit about twelve of us giants in two tiny RV’s, it was hilarious to watch my dad, Carson, try desperately to follow Danny as Danny chugged away at 70 miles an hour on those highways that dad refused to go faster than 60 or 65. And let me tell you, the RV’s were not made to go past like 50. It was so funny to ride in Dad’s RV, which was nice and quit, and then go to Danny’s RV, which was shaking and rocking back and forth. Though I know it was a bit dangerous, I never felt scared or put in danger, cause I knew Danny would take care of us. I guess that’s how he’s been my whole life. He is the best leader. Throughout Europe all 15-20 of us followed him without question. We knew he had our best interest in mind. I’ve been a passive Christian my whole life, but this year, upon coming to college, I finally truly accepted Christ into my life, and have strived to live in a way that is pleasing to Him. Danny was one of my top role models in how a true Christian should live. Even though his body was completely failing him, his spirit grew stronger and stronger each day. I have trouble believing in something I cannot see, this Heaven that is promised to each of us that accept Christ into our lives, but when I think of Danny, and where he is, there is absolutely no doubt in my brain or heart that he is with Christ, probably striking up a golf game or planning some big adventure.
I vividly remember Danny singing songs to us at the Lake house, like Father Abraham. All eight of us kids would joyfully walk up the stairs, singing along with his beautiful voice, only to realize a few minutes later that we had been tricked into going to bed without a fuss. I remember Danny’s strength, and the amazement I felt when he would let me hang off one of his arms. How could anybody be that strong? He would always ask each of us “Are you going to be our ticket?” Well, I think Danny is the ticket. He has had the greatest success in the world, letting the Lord use him in order to bring his brothers and sisters to Christ. Danny, you will be soooo missed, but I know you’re watching over all of us, and am just waiting for that day when we all get to be together in Heaven. I hope you are planning a big adventure, cause I know I can’t wait.
February 24, 2009 at 10:38 pm
At a time in my life, a deep, dark sad time, I’ll never forget Danny (my children’s great uncle) coming to my rescue. I had just been put into a life-threatening situation along with my two very small (at the time) children. I was scared and alone and had no idea who to call. I called Danny. Within 5 minutes, he was at my house helping me and my babies. Throughout a few years of darkness, Danny was there for me and my children. Several years passed where I didn’t have a lot of communication with him, but back in the fall of 2008, a friend invited me to their church to listen to Danny speak. I was passing through another difficult time in my life, and Danny knew about it. When he saw me as I was walking into the church, he stopped and waited on me. We talked for a bit and he gave me the best hug in the world. Right then and there, I looked him straight in the eyes and told him how much I had appreciated everything he has done for our family. Danny was a GREAT uncle! I am so thankful to have known him and experienced his truly unconditional love for everyone! Uncle Danny, Thank you! You will truly be missed!
February 25, 2009 at 9:59 pm
Dear Danny,
Thought I would send you one last comment. I overheard DeLancey say something on Saturday that really encapsulated my — and everyone else’s — thoughts about you. When asked by Jim Suddath what she thought about her father, she said, “He is the epitome of what a Christian man should be.” Wow … when your daughter, who has seen you day in and day out, in all types of situations, says that about you — that’s a powerful confirmation of your character and your faith.
I want to thank you for being an integral part of my life for almost 40 years. You helped shape me as a person, provided me a strong male Christian role model, and encouraged my Christian walk. I could always look to you for guidance, for inspiration, for strength. Every time I spoke with you, I felt that you were really happy to speak with me and that I was someone special to you. But you had that effect on everyone.
There are times when it is hard to be a Christian. When all the pressures bear down on one to conform to what every one else is doing. It’s easier just to bend with the wind. Thank you for being willing to stand tall for what you knew to be the truth, to stand firm upon your beliefs and convictions, to “stand in the gap” (Ezekiel 22:30) and be the light for others to follow. Thanks for finishing strong.
Danny, one last thought. You always loved a trip, an adventure to a foreign country. You couldn’t wait to try out your British accent (well, as best can be done with a Dalton accent) while visiting London and taking in the theater. I wish I could have been with you for the first 5 minutes of your waking up in Heaven. That’s the ultimate trip we all look forward to. I would have loved to have been there to hear God say, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”
You’re a thumbs up in my book!
Love you Danny.
Carson
February 26, 2009 at 12:41 am
Danny,
I have to agree with Callie, Danny… you were “the ticket” all along! You lived your life for Christ even as your flesh failed and your worldly passions were taken away from you. At the funeral it was really amazing to see how your one decision to live your whole life for Christ touched so many people. My heart is broken for the family left behind, but I rejoice in knowing that you will be waiting at the gates with that huge smile on your face, waving and saying welcome home!
love,
Rossie
February 26, 2009 at 9:18 pm
Nice post to watts and delancey. Grandma say ” I still haven’t read the Blodge.” We all answer grandma it’s a blog!
February 26, 2009 at 10:01 pm
Blog or blodge, whatever. What Danny did on his posts was absolutely amazing. We went to it every day to not only read it but to read the comments that people had read in responce to it. I felt like I knew everyone personnaly. Before and after the service Sunday, I would meet people and they would say ” I know you and I in turn would say to them that I knew them”. One lady came up to me and said , you must be a Dantzler. I said that I was Bryan Dantzler. She said that she had been reading my comments and was hoping to meet me. Jean, it was your cousin Gail. I talked to Jim and Janet and Carson and Carol and others. They all talked about what Danny had done with his blog and all for the purpose of spreading the gospel of Jesus Christ. He did that for as long as I knew him. Danny learned at an early age that we belong to Christ an we are to serve Him in all our life. To see over 1000 people in the Wink sunday was a tribute seldom seen for a layman or any other. It spoke volumes about the kind of person Danny was. He was not only my first cousin, but he was my brother in Christ. Jean, our love goes out to you and your wonderful family. We will miss him. Grace and peace, Bryan and Margaret Dantzler.
PS- I remember the sunday at our family reunion, when he pulled a card from his pocket. It was a golf card and on it, it said. 0 handicap.
March 1, 2009 at 6:43 pm
DeLancey, I’m so glad you posted, its good to hear your heart shine through your writing. Over the last 17 years of friendship, I’ve had the honor of watching you grow into such a beautiful young woman. There are so many qualities about you that I admire and strive to imitate, but I think the part of you that I find most beautiful is the heart that you inherited from your dad. I remember so vividly how your dad lovingly allowed me to be grafted in to your safe haven of a home, and he never let me feel like I was anything less than family. I see that heart of compassion and tenderness mirrored in you as well. The unconditional love and support you extend to me is such a perfect reflection of your dad’s character. He really has left a legacy with a heartbeat, that lives on in you.