LIfe is a journey
I have only known Denis for ten years. I wish I had known him longer. He used to be a hippy and he lived in a commune for awhile. He was an artist, musician, biker, Boy Scout leader, and a tremendous family man. He was also one of the best friends anyone could ever want.
Denis always wore sandals. He wore them to work as a hardwood floor installer. He hiked in them, including climbing Mt. Whitney at 14,000 feet. He wore them to church, which he attended faithfully. He did wear moccasins on occasion.
He loved to teach the youth. He taught them about life. He taught them how to throw a tomahawk, shoot a bow and arrow, to enjoy the sunrise on a mountain peak.
He loved to ride his motorcycles. Including a real sweet Harley Springer Soft Tail. He would jump on it in the summer, put his great wife on the back and travel several thousand miles. He also had a Russian motorcycle that was copied from a 1940's BMW with a side car. He would throw a grandchild in the sidecar and give them a joyous ride around town.
Denis will be missed by a lot of people, including me. But he will never be forgotten and his influence to do good will be with me always.