This article was written by MeriTalk Founder Steve O’Keeffe.
Dan Arnold passed on March 5th – he was my friend.
I first met Dan Arnold when we were young men – in our mid twenties. Long Island Elvis – rockahulla smile, enormous hand, and a firm shake. We sat down for lunch at Fedora Cafe in Tysons. He, new to Federal Computer Week, I cutting my teeth at KSK Communications – the companies and the restaurant long since gone. I measured him, as one does on first encounter with a salesperson – unremarkable, and I turned to the important “stuff” of my day – “stuff” I can’t for the life of me recall now.
Little did I know, that Dan and I were embarking on a 35-year journey together. An arc that would intertwine our lives, and jump the tracks from professional to personal. Laughs, learnings, marriages, children, successes, failures, and loss. Dan’s passing brings sorrow, relief, as well as a reminder of the importance of community and everyday friendship.
When Sunshine’s in the Meadow
Always immaculately turned out, Dan brought an athlete’s intensity and a grounded, respectful joy for life. We bonded on the road at various conferences and junkets in Kiawa, Montgomery, Williamsburg – the govtech grand tour. While some of us stayed in the media space, Dan’s ambition compelled him to strike out to play with the big boys in the stuff of government tech. He excelled in leadership sales and partner management roles with IBM, Harris, Multimax, Citrix, and Trustwave. Respected by everybody, Dan was a man who said what he did, and did what he said. He was talented and intense – competitive, comedic, and compassionate.
Outside of work – family was his north star. Dan and his wife Marie were intensely proud of their two children Emily and Christopher. He always kept me up on the latest lacrosse adventures.
When All the Flowers are Dying
I think I was at Tech Tonic early last year when Bill Rucker told me that Dan was sick. He was diagnosed with Lynch Syndrome, a genetic condition that assails the body with a volley of cancers – Dan had it in the pancreas.
Like many in our community, I stopped in to see Dan during his illness. I feared for the worst, but was relieved when he opened the door. Same slick-back Presley, same big handshake. Sitting with Dan on his back deck, overlooking the golf course in Reston, I felt his enthusiasm for life. He never doubted he would beat this thing. Dan talked about his faith. All those years, I didn’t realize the importance of the Catholic Church in his life. And, he centered on his hopes, regrets, and aspirations.
Kneel and Say an Ave There for Me
I’d planned to see Dan in February – he shot a note the day before to reschedule. So, I was shocked when Jeremiah Cunningham called to tell me of Dan’s passing. March 1st. I hitched a ride with Jeremiah to Long Island to say goodbye. As we rode up, we exchanged Dan stories, and talked and laughed about our combined 80+ years in the government tech. About the fun we’ve had, people we’ve lost, and those we still cherish.
On Long Island, we grieved with Marie and their children, we met his brothers – apples don’t fall far from trees – and mingled with his school friends. Folks swapped favorite Dan anecdotes at the dark-wood-paneled Irish Coffee bar in Islip – straight out of The Sopranos. Dan was well-loved and taken too soon.
Next time you’re in a meeting, or shaking hands at an event, consider Dan – your colleagues, acquaintances, and our community. Because, very often, the most important stuff happens between the things you think are most important.
Danny Boy – a little more conversation, a little less action.
Born New Year’s Eve 1964, Dan was 61. Last in, Dan was youngest of seven, the sixth brother; he was the first out, survived by all his siblings, almost all of whom have battled at least one form of cancer. Dan is also survived by Marie, his wife, and two children, Emily and Christopher. Official obituary – Obituary information for Daniel Arthur Arnold