Unlike many others, I can't say that I knew dannye well. I saw his name on the catbox often, but I can't recall any significant conversations with him in the catbox. Of course, like many others, he commented and sent me feedback on a few of my writeups via private message and I can say without a doubt that following his advice improved those writeups.

However, his language skills (which others have praised) are not what moved me to write him an eulogy of sorts. Neither are his roles as a father, husband and friend because I never had the pleasure of witnessing them. My motivation comes from two sources: the impact he had on e2 and how much of it was "hidden".

From what I can see, dannye loved this place and wanted the best for e2 and its members. I read people thanking him for his severe and honest feedback; for his commitment to quality, for all his writeups. I really had no idea of how extensive his presence was. Dannye's work in e2 reminds me of that man who planted entire fields of tulips, a few per day, every day. Today, those fields are marvelous displays of nature and more importantly, the living proof that small and consistent efforts lead to immensely grand results. I never knew dannye well, but his fields of tulips attest to years and years of commitment.

It also happened behind the scenes. If it wasn't for others' eulogies, maybe I would never have imagined that he was as valuable a critic as you praise him to be. It wasn't done for recognition or fame. It was for what he believed in, for a greater good. It was what needed to be done. I highly respect that.


I'm not really afraid of dying. I'm afraid of dying alone and forgotten. I want to create something that will live after I'm dead and dannye is an example of that. Even if I didn't know him, his presence seems to be big enough (and his absence hard enough) to touch a stranger like me. For this, I thank you, dannye.

I only have 8 messages from you and the last ones were wondering if I'd include Tecate in my mexican beers writeup. I'm truly sorry that life got in my way and I couldn't finish it on time for you to read it. But if there's a heaven, I'm sure you'll have plenty of beers to taste and a far better sunset to enjoy them.

Thank you, old man.