Daniels, Christopher D. (3/12/2006)

From our 30th reunion memorial service

Christopher Daniels was a Government major, a member of Bones Gate, and went on to law school in Wisconsin, becoming a partner at a Madison law firm. He was an avid curler. Chris had a heart attack, while skiing, on March 12, 2006.

Christopher Dorin Daniels collapsed while skiing with his children and died in the hospital of heart failure on March 12, 2006 in Duluth, Minnesota. At Dartmouth, he belonged to Bones Gate and graduated with High Distinction in Government. His Dartmouth experience deepened his love for music, mountains, Monty Python and multiple modes of merriment. He skied the Sage Stairway Slalom. In 1984, he graduated from University of Wisconsin Law School, married, and put down deep roots in Madison. A Partner with DeWitt, Ross & Stevens, Chris loved nature, hiking and skiing with his children, family and friends. He took joy in the family cabin built by his grandfather, father and uncle in Door County, Wisconsin. An accomplished, long-time Madison Curling Club member, he celebrated the sport’s camaraderie and newfound popularity. Chris was long active in Big Brothers and Big Sisters. Survivors include his wife, Cheryl; and children, Marianna, Owen, and Alaina.

From the website of Chris’s law firm of DeWitt, Ross & Stevens:

With deep sadness, DeWitt Ross & Stevens reports that our friend and colleague Christopher Daniels passed away suddenly March 12 while skiing with his children. Chris was the chairperson of the firm’s business practice group and a proud and active member of Big Brothers and Big Sisters of Dane County. Our sympathies go out to Chris’s wonderful family—his wife, Cheryl, and their three children—and to everyone who will miss his thorough and thoughtful style, his wry sense of humor, and his leadership. Chris will be greatly missed, and we leave his biography on our website now as a reflection of our esteem for him. Chris Daniels focused his law practice on business transactions with emphasis on banking, finance, and securities. Often considered a banker’s lawyer, Mr. Daniels helped to organize a new community bank, and served as securities counsel in the nation’s first offering of permanent equity capital by a federal corporate credit union.

19 March 2006
The Capital Times & Wisconsin State Journal

Daniels, Christopher Dorin

MADISON Chirstopher Dorin Daniels, age 48, collapsed wile skiing and died in the hospital of heart failure in Duluth, Minn., on Sunday, March 12, 2006. He was born on Nov. 22, 1957, in Portland, Ore., the son of Farrington Jr. and Alice (Monroe) Daniels.Chris married Cheryl Marie Furstace on Oct. 6, 1984, in Buffalo, N.Y. Chris was a graduate of Dartmouth College, Hanover, N.H., in 1979, and the University Wisconsin Law School, Madison, in 1984. He was an attorney with DeWitt, Ross & Stevens and one of its predecessor firms, Ross & Stevens, for more than 20 years. Chris was a very loving husband and father to wife, Cheryl; daughter, Marianna; son, Owen; and daughter, Alaina of Madison. He took great pride in their accomplishments and great fun in all their shared activities. In addition, Chris and family opened their hearts and home to four exchange student sons, Dan (Hungary), Gaha (Indonesia), Andreas (Denmark) and Beto (Italy). Chris loved nature, hiking and skiing with his children, family and friends. He took joy in the family cabin, built by his grandfather, father and uncle in Door County, Wisconsin. Chris was a long-time member of the Madison Curling Club. He loved the sport, its camaraderie and its new-found popularity from the Winter Olympics. Chris was proud of his 20-year association with Big Brothers and Big Sisters of Dane County, first as a big brother to a little brother, Charlie Lawson, and then as board member and president of its board and board member of its foundation.

Eulogy by Tom French ‘79, March 2006

Remembering Chris takes me back to my first week at Dartmouth, on the first floor of Russell Sage Hall.  We lived across the hall from one another, and from the outset I knew we’d be friends.  When I put on some of my most Texan music (Bob Wills and the Texas Playboys), his initial response was “What kind of (crap) is that?” Things went downhill from there (but in a good way).  I was a loud mouthed Texan and he was a wise(acre) New Yorker.  We got along just fine.  That freshman year brought Outing Club trips: great hikes as well as a memorable sub-zero day spent together on Cannon Mountain.  As a thin-skinned Texan, I thought the end was near, but Chris persevered like the cold-loving Celt he always was.  Later as roommates, I would be cozily sawing logs in the top bunk (always the first to snooze), when I would wake up at three in the morning able to see my breath.  Chris had opened the window for fresh air, which was indeed quite so considering the minus seven outside.  The window would slam shut, I’d go back to sleep.  The window would open again, and the comedy would repeat.

Our most ill-conceived plan was a long foray to Europe together in the early fall of our junior year.  Chris was to spend a semester in Lund, Sweden studying environmental science (he was always a scosh left of me politically) but we had considerable time to kill in the meantime.  His Mom and Dad were enjoying a sabbatical in London, so using their place as a launch pad, we explored the Scottish Highlands with backpacks and a few hundred bucks between us.  The tension between us always revolved around whose stupid idea got us into the present predicament, and we were on Skye, an almost unpopulated and nearly road-less isle off the west coast, hitchhiking in a pouring rain.  I was sure this was his fault, and I fumed as we trudged mile after mile toward the purported hostel.  Finally, the clouds cleared and we were suddenly in pure sunshine with a glistening sea and rolling green as backdrop to our foolish jaunt.  It was a perfect moment I will never forget.

As a friend, Chris had an eternal skepticism that always kept me honest.  My guess is he kept his clients that way as well.  He had an uncanny ability to deflate my unearned arrogance while at the same time sticking with me through everything.  As the years have passed, we didn’t get together as often as we should: a fortieth birthday here, a ski trip there.  But it never took more than an hour or two to start correcting one another, picking fights just like in our prime.  I was incredibly touched to hear that, hours after losing his dad, his son Owen said to his Mom, “you’ve got to call Dad’s friends.  I know they’d do anything for him.”

Eulogy by Harry Dent ‘79, March 2006

I am speaking this afternoon, as is Tom, on behalf of all of Chris’ Dartmouth friends – a number of whom are here today – Carl Yerkovich, Mark Fisher, George Morris, Peter Morse, and Tom.  I met Chris while at Dartmouth, shared an apartment with him in New York after we graduated, and, since moving to the Midwest, my family and I have been lucky enough to spend time with Chris and his family up at the cabin each summer.  All of us here loved Chris for lots of different reasons – and as I thought about what I would like to remember and say about Chris this afternoon, and as the Dartmouth friends shared stories and anecdotes, there emerged some themes and they really speak to some qualities in Chris that we all particularly cherished.  And so, I have organized my thoughts around three themes, or qualities, and thought I would share some stories by way of illustrating each.

The first quality that I think we all remember and admire in Chris was the interesting and often exciting intersection between his love of the outdoors and his undaunted spirit of adventure.  It is no surprise that so many of the pictures we saw earlier depict Chris in the outdoors – he had a profound appreciation of nature, which, combined with his natural curiosity and spirit of adventure, could lead to some interesting things.  I’m sure many of you are aware of the traditions surrounding Winter Carnival weekend at Dartmouth – it is a winter sports festival with all sorts of events staged by the College – the ski jumping competition out at the Olympic ski jump on the golf course, the ski-teams downhill competition at the Dartmouth Ski-way, ice skating on Occum Pond.  But you may not be aware that there are a set of other events that have become traditions – no less hallowed, but perhaps less sanctioned by the College itself.  There was the “Russell Sage Downhill” – an event where participants skied down four flights of steps inside a dormitory, and out through the front door at the end.  And the “Heorot Open”, where a fraternity would carve and freeze a makeshift bobsled run through a rock and tree covered woods behind their house, and allow participants to sled down it on all sorts of devices.  Chris was an avid participant in all of these events, and an inspiration to those of us who were more feint of heart!  Long after Dartmouth, this quality manifested itself in Chris’s body-surfing habits up at the cabin.  Ten foot waves, winds gusting up to forty miles an hour, and water temperatures in the high fifties – those were Chris’ idea of perfect bodysurfing conditions, and there was no stopping him!

The next quality we would like to remember in Chris is that wry, dry sense of humor, turbo-charged by his massive intellect.  There are countless examples of this, but a memory that I think many, many people in this room will fondly have, that illustrates the quality perfectly, was what it was like to be in Chris’ presence while he read a newspaper.  I lived with Chris during one of the most challenging periods of his life – the Reagan White House – and I quickly figured out that I could get much more information – and certainly more entertainment – out of being in the presence of Chris reading the paper than by reading it myself.  He really immersed himself in a paper – there wasn’t much he missed, and there would be brief periods of silence as he took in the news, punctuated by a number of sounds which emitted from behind the paper- the “huh” of mild bemusement, or the “guffaw” of amazement, or the “howl” of outright outrage.  The best though, was when he lowered the paper, and you saw the twinkle in his eye, up went one eyebrow, up went the curl of his lip, and you knew he was about to say something exceedingly funny that you did not want to miss.

Finally, we wanted to recognize and remember a specific aspect of Chris’s sense of humor; For someone possessed of such deep, deep intelligence, Chris had a surprising capacity - that we all very much appreciated – for enormously silly behavior.  Although, there were many choices here, I will illustrate this with just one story.  While living in New York together, Chris and I had been invited to attend a Halloween costume party, and, come the day of the party, naturally neither of us had done anything about our costumes.  Chris called me from work and harangued me about what we were going to do, so I promised that I would pick up something on my way home from work that we could work into a costume.  I stopped at a Jewish delicatessen, and spotted a tray of bright, golden whole fish that looked interesting.  I asked the deli owner what they were, and he told me they were smoked chubbs.  I ordered two of them.  I had no idea what role they might play in a costume, but they seemed to offer up interesting possibilities.  When I got back to the apartment, Chris looked at me in disbelief and said, “you bought smoked chubb for our costumes???” I said “ yeah, what do you think we should do with them?” “WEAR THEM ON OUR HEADS, OF COURSE!” Chris roared back at me, as if any idiot could have seen that was the logical choice.  We found two colanders in the kitchen, affixed the fish to them, and thus was born the “fish-helmet” that became the centerpiece of our costumes.

Intelligence, the spirit of adventure, love of the outdoors, a wonderful sense of humor - we will remember Chris for these things and many others, and of course, as a tremendous father and husband, and a loyal, constant friend.  To
Chris, with our love.

In memory of Chris Daniels, the Class of 1979 has purchased the following book for Baker Library:

Paoluzzo, Marco, North/Nord

Photos courtesy of Tom French ‘79:

With Captain Morgan(he didn’t buy) in Vail March 2005 (Left to right: Carl Yerkovich, Tom French, George Morris ‘80, the Captain, unknown associate, Mark Fischer ‘80. Harry Dent, Rick Swanson, Chris Daniels

The same motley crew at the top of Vail

On dock, circa 1977

On mountain with Tom French

At dinner- graduation 1979

with George Morris and another ‘80 Zete

(no caption provided)

Heorot snow

Chris about 1977