From Tay Vaughan:

Dear Denise, Megan and Gillian...

I was so sad to hear this morning that Dana is gone. Following a year behind him at Governor Dummer Academy, he was always bigger than life for me. He always got into more trouble, got better grades, and was more tuned-in than us littler kids. Years later, during the heady rush of the information age and new technology we occasionally met in the Bay Area, and even then he remained BIG in my eyes, a role model, a creative success, someone to look up to. Perhaps that's what greatness is, being always a step ahead of the crowd.

In the 1930's, Dana's grandfather literally saved my diabetic mother's teenage life, so the Atchley name was always spoken with reverence in my home; without the Atchleys, my story and that of my thirteen-year-old daughter, Elizabeth, would never have been. Dana, as the first of my age-peers and colleagues who has actually really definitely died, yet again leaves me looking up to him, to his ideas, to his creative spirit, his love of life. Remembering him from times near the beginning of his own story, I miss him, now. And now the road turns grayscale without his colorful shape to catch my eye...

Such threads and connections and memories, some rope-strong, others tenuous, seem to dissolve and break as we negotiate our way into and through older age, as friends one-by-one dissappear. There may be an advantage to going early: bad would be winning the race and "outliving them all," alone, with no connections left.

I'm glad he had the three of you and more at his side. Still bigger than life, Dana leaves behind a full and rich contribution to the common good, and in his wake today are real people whose own stories were bettered by his presence. Mine was.

With much love, Tay Vaughan

From Bambi Everson:

I think it's amazing that Dana was one of the first people to use the new technology to bring friends and family together and now with his passing, so many of us are being brought together, sharing our grief through this medium. I thank everyone who has been sharing their thoughts and stories over the last couple of days.

I have known Dana my entire adult life (23 years and counting) His happiness was infectous and no matter what was going on in my own life, in his presence I was always the person I wanted to be.I shall hold him close always and strive to continue his legacy by loving my friends and family and telling the stories.

My autistic daughter was never stiller than the time she sat in rapt attention in the back seat of a car listening to Dana regale her with the story of "Kettle Head" And when I sat at my computer sobbing at Denise's E mail, she came and held me tight and reminded me that we keep him alive in our hearts. I can't bear to think of him not being with us but I can access a thousand memories and keep them warm and cared for.

Thank you Denise for connecting us all and for your love and your indominable spirit which kept Dana so young and spirited and optimistic and wonderful.

Much Love, Bambi

From Ian Swinson, Dana's Son-in-law

Where to begin?

Remember when your teachers asked you to write a paper, compressing the life and times of someone like Pierre Trudeau (for the Canadians) or Benjamin Franklin (for the Southern Canadians) down to 1000 words? That's exactly how I feel right now...only I'm trying to write about someone I loved, knew personally, respected and had the frightfully brief joy of knowing him as the Grandfather of our first daughter.

I'm still not even sure if that is the correct analogy. Some things are just unclassifiable. This morning at quarter past midnight Dana passed away from complications with his bone marrow transplant. He was 59 years old and is survived by his wife Denise (née Aungst) and daughters Megan and Gillian. The three of them stood by his side and held his hands as passed away. His last words to the group were 'I love you.'

I first met Dana in Montreal before Megan and I had started dating - back when we were just friends in the same Film and Communications Major. Megan was hardly subtle in her proclamations about her Dad's coolness. To initiate a theme, it was my duty as a cynical hardcore musician and resident menace to doubt the veracity of all statements and to consider Megan's statements as purely subjective hyperbole. Enter...Dana.

From the moment I met him I knew my cynicism was unfounded and perhaps completely out of style. One of Megan's most compelling features is her conviction and stubbornness to uphold her beliefs. No doubt this is something she learned from her father. Our first visit, the one with Dana, was brief...but influential. Earlier in life I had come to the conclusion that celebrity and greatness were not like the baubles of the rich.

True celebrity - the celebration of an individual - has to do with the spirit of a person, their bearing, demeanour (I'm spelling Canadian tonight), and charisma. Like a real musician, there's no need for hi-tech gear or a multi-thousand dollar hand-made piece of art to make music...the real music is inside the person. Give them a margarine container full of uncooked rice and they'll find a way to make music. in the past decade I have become deeply embroiled with the Atchley family.

Megan and I moved from my parents house in Toronto to San Francisco in 1992. Shortly after moving to California I was forced to deal with the most devastating event of my life - the death of my brother Rob. Throughout my time of grieving I was blessed by the presence of many exemplary individuals. Megan, my wife, stood by me and held me straight when I could barely stand for myself. My parents and sister who gave me the strength to think about the future and start to deal with the past. Gillian, Megan's sister, who has always been a most sober, valuable, sensitive and considerate ear. And to corral these ideas into a point...

Dana and his influence on my most difficult time in adjusting to the west coast sunset. Multi-faceted it was. There's his larger circle of influence represented by his family - from Uncle Bill and Annelies, Grandma French, Polly and Dave, Betsy and Mark, Mark and Bonnie...etc. (forgive me for not listing everyone's name) - to his friends - Willie and Tapley, Joe and Nina, Nutzle, Patrick, James Flux, Steve and Bonnie, Burt and Joyce...(again, forgive me for not listing everyone's name)...anyway, his influence. Something I came to realize later is that Dana had two very distinct modes of communication. The direct and literal and the indirect and metaphorical. Most folks use these structures to communicate but few do so consciously and effectively.

Dana helped me through this time by coaxing me into thinking about the wonder of life, the vast curiosity that is life, the frontiers that are still available to all of us, and the confidence that our experiences can define our existence through sharing and exchange. Often I would find myself comfortable with a conversation's conclusion only to realize hours later that we had been discussing an entirely different subject.

Dana was a most subtle spiritual guide. And now I'm forced to sit here and think about his passing. And again, I'm torn - this time not through indecision but by the rift that has appeared in my heart. Dana dealt with the past months with such dignity and strength that I now find myself re-thinking my initial perceptions.

From day one I was frightened to hear that he was diagnosed with the bizarrely named disease myelo displasia (smouldering leukemia) - a disease that fails to commit itself to being a disease. How horribly ironic. Dana, who was so intensely committed to his vision, his goals and his family and friends was stricken with a disease that couldn't commit. Not one to miss an opportunity, Dana chose to fight this disease head on. I believe he did this to ensure a long and fruitful life as the happy husband of Denise and the proud father of Megan and Gillian.

Waiting was not Dana's game...there was always far too much to accomplish, too much to plan for...

Sadly, his plans have been cut short.

However, his thoughts and dreams have not. They live on in all those who could put aside their cynicism, open their hearts to an intimate future based on the depth, magic and influence of interpersonal relationships, and know fully that in a world of physical separation that we are are held together emotionally by 'space...the connector of all things'.

As I sit here completing this journal entry with Dana's granddaughter squirming beside me my biggest wish for this new entrant onto earth's playing field is that she inherit many qualities from her esteemed, loved, influential and deeply missed Grandfather Dana.

From Michael Moon

A moment to reflect about friends and what they have contributed, to celebrate in a joy (big enough include all other feelings, although a stretching that make us ache) of having known someone who made a difference to you and me, and the world.

More than his accomplishments, which number many, his message I will carry into eternity: We tell stories, that when told with humor, verve and humanity, we pass on to the future the true meaning of our being here.

We bear a sacred and wise witness to the times and places we have lived, to the people who touched us, to those we touched, and to those of whom we may never know, directly, but nonetheless bear our collective passage.

I can think of no greater victory nor honor to bestow on him than to hold him in my heart as a beacon, as a star in a constellation that shines forever and lights our way, especially in our moments of confusion or darkness.

We shall always carry him in our hearts, and celebrate having shared our most precious gifts to time, caring and love.