Daniel Trondsen was born December 14, 1951, in San Rafael, California, to Constance and Norman Trondsen. He was the second of three sons. Throughout his childhood he excelled in a number of sports, including baseball, basketball, football, and track. After graduating from Terra Linda High School in 1970, Dan entered California State University in Chico where he continued to compete in track and field. He graduated from Chico State in 1975 with a degree in biology. Although he had always wanted to attend medical school, he found a job with a good friend, Rob Ham, working for the Rusty Pelican Restaurant Company. He worked for various restaurant groups for almost twenty years in management and training positions. Dan met his wife-to-be, Lisa, while working at the Ancient Moose restaurant in Sacramento. The two were married on April 9, 1983, and enjoyed 14 years of marriage until Dan's death on August 3, 1997.
Two children were born to Dan and Lisa: Christopher, on September 5, 1990, and Nicolas, on July 2, 1994. Dan's boys were the light of his life. He was a loving and involved father who, when not working, was with his wife and family.
Dan enjoyed reading science fiction and adventure books and remained active throughout his life in various sports, including golf, tennis, and skiing. He also flew single engine airplanes.
Dan decided to change careers during the 1990s and worked with management training companies, initially with Resolution Inc. He spent his final two years with Management Tools Inc., based in Orange, California. He enjoyed, respected and admired the owner, Steve Mulvony. Mr. Mulvony allowed Dan to work throughout his two-year battle with cancer in whatever capacity he was capable at the time.
Dan battled his illness not only with courage and optimism, but also with realism and dignity. He will be missed by his family, friends and occupational associates. He was a kind, loving and quiet family man to the end. He wanted his children to think of him as a shooting star. Thus, he chose Celestis as a means to provide his family with a final memory of him.
I am standing upon the seashore; a ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean.
She is an object of beauty and strength, and I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come down to mingle with each other.
Then someone at my side says, "There! She's gone." Gone where? Gone from my sight - that is all.
She is just as large in mast and hull and as spar as she was when she left my side - and just as able to bear her load of living freight to the place of destination.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her; and just as the moment when someone at my side says, "There! She's gone," there are other eyes watching her coming and other voices ready to take up the glad shout, "There she comes!"
And that is dying.
-- Author Unknown