Dan is a below-knee, double amputee as a result of a toxic blood infection, complicated by diabetes, in 1996. He really enjoys sharing his story with all people, especially the young ones, in a humorous way.

In an effort to make his audience comfortable, he attempts to inject a little humor, most of it at his own expense.  His hope is for the kids to come away with a new perspective on disabilities--that we're all just people--and, that we have so much to be grateful for.

In addition to his volunteer work with A Touch of Understanding, Inc., Dan leads the disability outreach at Bayside Church called Through The Roof.  He also volunteers for Joni and Friends, an organization which ministers to the disabled around the world.  Locally, they offer Family Retreat camps in the Santa Cruz Mountains for families affected by disabilities.  Globally, Joni and Friends' Wheels for the World distributes free wheelchairs to underprivileged people in developing countries.  Dan has been to Vietnam, Thailand and Africa twice as part of the outreach teams.

Dan adds a tremendous amount of enthusiasm, humor and insight to the ATOU team.  We are so thankful he is with us to touch the lives of the students – here’s a sample of what he has to share with students:
Not a Leg to Stand On

In the week leading to Christmas, I started feeling as though I had the flu. Each day the symptoms worsened. But as the foreman electrician on a high-tech office building project, I had to plug along. The job had to be completed before noon December 23, and I certainly wasn't going to disappoint. So, I would wake at 5:30 a.m., leave by six, and drive Highway 17 over the Santa Cruz Mountains to start at seven. Only by the grace of God did I make the completion deadline and a Christmas party at my employer's office later that day. After sitting in a chair at the party for an hour without saying a word or eating anything, I left. I honestly have no recollection of the drive home.

Typically, I'd check on the kids and get the day's mail upon arriving. Instead, I plopped down in bed and felt as bad as you can feel without being in a train wreck. I had every flu symptom imaginable. Later that evening, I had Ryan drive me to the urgent care clinic. After answering questions and submitting to an examination, a physician said I had the flu. We made a stop at the drug store to fill a prescription and I went to bed soon as we returned home.  

On Christmas Eve, we were expected at my brother Dave's home in Half Moon Bay with our families. But by morning, the flu symptoms worsened, so we cancelled. I was taken to the medical clinic that afternoon. A chest x-ray indicated pneumonia in my right lung. I was beginning to feel as though I would black out. The combination of pneumonia with the fact I have diabetes was enough to authorize an emergency room trip to Dominican Hospital in Santa Cruz. The last thing I recall was being wheeled into the admitting office to answer insurance-related questions. Then the lights went out and no one was home. I slipped into a deep slumber—and didn't wake for six weeks.

Somehow, dangerous bacteria had entered my blood system and caused a toxic blood infection called septicemia, like blood poisoning. For good measure, I developed a staphylococcus infection. I was given an assortment of antibiotics and other drugs to increase my blood pressure. My heart stopped pumping blood on four occasions the first three days, and each time I was miraculously saved with a defibulator. I was on dialysis several weeks because of failed kidneys. My body temperature rose to 107 several days in a row. Because of this, the hospital staff warned my family that even if I waking from my coma, I would probably be a "vegetable." My close friends have said I did become a vegetable because millions of brain cells seemed to have vanished.

By the next morning, pneumonia filled both lungs, which prevented breathing on my own. A ventilator was connected to my throat through a trachea tube. It's likely this procedure caused paralysis to my vocal chords, tongue and epiglottis. Because of a high white blood cell count, I had several blood transfusions. From poor circulation and complications due to diabetes, my lower limbs were removed below my knees to stop gangrene. Aside from all this, I was doing pretty darn well.
The hospital staff gave my family virtually no hope. On the day I "flat lined" twice, my pastor was called in to prepare everyone for my death. Upon arriving, he and about 50 of my friends and family members huddled in a waiting room for the eventual bad news. My family instructed the hospital staff to take all lifesaving measures and I am glad they did!

When first becoming conscious and barely opening my eyes, I felt like I was in a science-fiction movie or Steven King novel. Morphine provided frightening nightmares and strange images. And suddenly, I would again dose off. Several days passed before I could remain awake any length of time. To no one's surprise, Kelly volunteered to tell what had happened to my legs. I remember it clearly. He said, "Your legs had to be removed in order to stop the gangrene from spreading so you could have a chance to live."

I remember saying, "Well, that's a small price to pay in order to be alive". I honestly felt that way and still feel that way today. Sure, it's an inconvenience and I can't do all I used to do. But I've chosen to focus on what I can do and not dwell on everything else. Compared to being dead, I'll take walking with prosthetic legs any day!

When I physically came alive for the second time in my life, I weighed 85 pounds. I looked down at my chest and saw nothing but skin on bone. Having paralyzed vocal cords meant I had to receive nourishment through feeding tubes. It also meant I had no voice—barely a faint whisper. To communicate, I was given an alphabet board to point out letters. My deformed fingers couldn't grasp a pen.

The constant flow of family and friends encouraged me. Pastors and people I didn't know from church came by to pray daily. My room was filled with balloons, cards, flowers, pictures, posters, books, and Rene's sermon tapes. Not only was I encouraged, but inspired.

After spending nearly four months in the hospital and a rehab center, I was taken to the house I grew up in. It sure felt good to be home. After everything, living with mom and dad was a treat. My new mode of transportation was a manual wheelchair.

In November 1996, I was fit with my first prosthetic legs. Having bought in August a car with hand controls, I was beginning to regain my independence. During this time, I contemplated what to do with life. I could no longer work as an electrician, so I began attending college—something I'd always wanted. In February 1997 I rented a room from my friend Steve and moved back to Aptos.

I've often been asked if I had ever been depressed. Or would I change anything about my life? My answer is always, "Not a chance!" Considering that I probably should not have survived, how can I be depressed? My primary physician during this ordeal told an RN and friend of mine that he had no medical explanation for my survival!

These past few years volunteering with A Touch of Understanding have been a real blessing to me. While a challenge initially, it has given me the opportunity to hone my speaking skills and to serve with an awesome group of volunteers! My favorite part of the presentation is answering questions, especially from the younger children as they will ask anything! And I strongly encourage all students to do so--no question is off limits for me. I think this is a great program. I wish there was one when I was growing up!

You can reach Dan at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it