My Brother

I know many of you here but no one who knew Danny could ever claim to know all of the people in his life. For those I haven’t met, my name is Ryan and I am Danny’s oldest brother.

My brothers and I learned fishing from our father, and it was something we mostly did together. But fishing was more than just a hobby; fishing allowed us to talk to each other (we Carlson men perhaps aren’t the best at talking openly about feelings). The often asked: “have you been fishing lately?” is code for “how are you doing, really?” And when we say: “we need to going fishing soon” instead we mean: “I miss you; I need to see you”. Every time I talked to Danny he would end by telling me we needed to go fishing soon.


There are so many stories I want to tell about Danny. Since he left us I’ve had an overwhelming urge to stop people I don’t know, to grab them, and to tell them about my little brother. I’d like to tell you a couple of stories about Danny now.

One spring 20 years ago we were camped at a lake in western Colorado, fishing for rainbow trout. Danny had naturally gone off on his own to find adventure and was nowhere to be found. It was well past dark and he was 7 years old. As we set out to look for him, Danny walked into camp with a giant smile and a story to tell. He simply couldn’t understand why we had been worried. “Guys, what’s the big deal? I was just fishing.” Of course we were fools for thinking that Danny ever needed us to watch over him, even then.

One of Danny’s favorite bands was Blues Traveler – he loved them. He never missed a Red Rocks show, and he and his friends would see them every chance they got. One December when I was in college Danny called me and asked me if I wanted to go to a Blues Traveler concert with him, just the two of us [I was reminded later that Brian Tohill was with us too - I don't know how I could have forgotten this]. This was way out of the ordinary but I was flattered and said sure, of course I’d love to go. I thought the show was sold out but Danny told me not to worry, he’d get us tickets. When I picked him up for the show he asked me to pop the trunk and he proceeded to load a wheelchair into the back of my car. It turns out the show was sold out, but Danny found out there were some handicap tickets left. He bought the tickets, rented a wheelchair, and called me. I wheeled him around that show and I can’t tell you how many people came up to us and said how cool it was that we were there together.

My sister got married when Danny was 15. One great thing about this is that today I get to show everyone a picture of Danny wearing a cowboy hat, which I’m sure he would appreciate. You can tell by the look on his face how much he enjoyed it. It was always easy to notice Danny’s ears, but this time I want to point them out for their conspicuous lack of any rings.

I love this next picture for a couple of reasons. The look on my sister Julie’s face when dancing with Danny is priceless, and it’s the look people usually had when Danny was putting on the charm. But I also have to point out that Danny is now sporting his trademark earrings, which were explicitly not allowed to make an appearance at the wedding. He made a dash to the bathroom to put them on before the reception started. No one could ever keep Danny from being who he wanted to be.

I got to see Danny make his friends in their early years, when they first began to terrorize the streets of Parker. Brian, Jeremy, Nate, Mikey and others teamed up with Danny to make quite a crew. The shenanigans these kids got into were legendary, and we certainly don’t have time to cover them here (nor can we show any pictures). But their relationship is one that I envied for its longevity and for its strength, and it highlighted one of Danny’s truly great qualities – his loyalty to his friends was fierce and unmatched. They all remained close throughout the years, they’re with us here today, and I’m proud to see the great men each of them grew to become alongside Danny. Who could ever have guessed.

Each member of our family had a special bond with Danny; to me he was my little buddy, someone who would do anything with me. I can’t tell you how many movies I dragged Danny to when he was a kid.
Just two weeks ago over dinner in San Francisco Danny and I had an hours long talk about our brother Andy, and I realized Danny was close to Andy in a way that few others ever will be. Danny loved Andy so much.


And Danny supported his mom like no other. Only yesterday I heard the story about Danny taking our mom to his friend’s wedding; at the end of his wedding toast, microphone in hand, Danny got down on his knee and kissed his mom’s hand and told everyone how much he loved her.

It’s clear that everyone in our family viewed their relationship with Danny as unique among the others. I’ve only recently come to realize that this is simply how Danny made everyone feel, everyone he met. Seeing all of you here today and hearing about Danny’s effect on you has only reinforced this – Danny had a rare and special ability to connect with each of us on a personal level, to make us feel like our relationship with him was genuine and sincere. And it truly was.

Just 3 days before he passed away, Danny spent the morning with my wife Melissa (whom he always called Michelle as a 4-year running joke). He brought her coffee and breakfast, and made her laugh easily and often just like he did with everyone. He told her about fishing. He confided in her that, to be honest, for him fishing wasn’t about catching the biggest fish, or catching the first or catching the most. In fact, catching fish wasn’t necessarily why he was even there. He said Andy always caught all the fish anyway. Instead he told her that fishing let him spend time with his Dad and with his brothers, and that was the real reason he tried to never miss a trip.

Danny’s legacy is that his ability to inspire and befriend so many people, people from all the different and wonderful parts of his life, brought us here together today. We likely would never have met each other without Danny, and we should be grateful he gave us this chance.

So stop people you don’t know, grab them, and tell them your stories about our amazing friend Danny. It is certain to make you laugh, it helps us remember him, and more than anything I know it would make Danny smile that smile that we all love and that we all will miss so much.