Now a Blogger

---

I am no longer a website owner, and am now a mere blogger. You may recall my excitement over my new website only a month ago, but it is now, tragically, gone. The address was staff.washington.edu/ti2ger92, and it was plenty of free space for me to use. The problem, though, was right there in the address. Indeed, I used to be a very productive staff member at the University of Washington, but I no longer am. As soon as our Computing services saw some activity on the website, they informed me that they were going to shut it down, making me web-homeless again.

I did some searching around the internet, found a Moroccan Peace Corps volunteer had decided to post here, at travelblogs.org, and found that I too liked the features. So, I decided to use this, instead. The problem with blogs is that as a “computer guy”, owning a blog instead of a webpage makes me look and feel less impressive. Just today, when I told a friend that I was going to write a blog, he said “oh, so now you’re a blogger”, and I knew all too well what he meant by it.

But, I still hold my head high knowing that using this blog will make it easier for me to update and post pictures more frequently. I plan to post a blog at least once every 2 weeks, on Sunday, so check every other Monday and if you don’t see something from me, bug me about it!

You ought to be able to leave comments on the individual blogs for other viewers to see by clicking the appropriate link below each blog, so please do! I’d love to read feedback on my posts, or just stupid things it made you think of about what’s going on in your own life right now. You can also send me personal messages via this website, but please don’t if you already have my email address, I prefer regular emails.

Looking forward to communicating through this site,
Tyler

---

Photos

me, Alexis, and Louis in Terjit
Grating carrots for the party of tebaski in Alexis'es more rustic site of Terjit.

Comments

[Dad]

Found your blog!
I was trolling through my junk mail and, for some reason, this was there. It was so good to speak with you last week. Great picture on your site, too. If only to keep your spirits up, I will blog away. Gren's memorial went very well. Chaz played several pieces. They were pretty somber, like Bach's "Enter into thy Rest". You can imagine that was a toe-tapper. We gave Chaz your email and, if i see him again, I will give him your blog space. I'll attach my eulogy to Gren below. Later, when Mark gave the message, he told the story of Gren being called to Chapel Hill. Mark kept asking him to come on staff and Gren kept saying he was retired. Finally, when Mark asked one more time, and Gren said no, Mark said, "Will you at least pray about it?" Gren replied, "I don't want to pray about it. I'm retired." But, of course, he did and the rest was a very sweet decade. Have a great day. Dad Grenville A. Daun March 1, 1925-January 23, 2006 Grenville was the second son to Leo and Helen Daun on March 1, 1925 in his grandparent’s home in Mentone, California. Gren went to private schools during his growing-up years and excelled, not only in his course work but also as a young musician. By the age of 17 he was an organist at a little, Baptist church. He was conflicted, though. He loved the music and the instrument. But he didn’t believe the message. He was an atheist. And it bugged the heck out of a 15 year old girl in that church named Jane Stutsman. After youth group, Gren would drop the kids off to their homes. Over time, Jane noticed that he always dropped her off…last. They would have spirited conversation. Jane sparred with him every time, challenging his lack of faith with the truth of God. She had an ally in that car as well. Sometimes, as they rode together, Jane would switch on Dr. Charles Fuller. His radio program touched millions of lives in those years, and his message started touching Gren’s life as well. Pretty soon, it was Gren who turned on the radio—maybe at first to pre-empt Jane. But pretty soon, to hear a message that was water to a thirsty soul. One day that young man went up to the tower of the little Baptist church he played organ for and went to his knees, a child who had finally come home. But he was soon required to leave home. The War was on and he was drafted. He was about to be shipped to the battle in a tank brigade when it was discovered that he had terrible asthma. So he spent the war in Oklahoma as an Army Chaplain Assistant. He came back from war and married Jane. Their first year as man and wife would prove their mettle. Gren had another year of college at Redlands and Jane had another year of her college as well. They lived in their school dorms every week and re-united on the weekends. By then it was clear to Gren that he was being called into the ministry. And, once again, Charles Fuller had an impact on his life. He had just opened his seminary—Fuller Theological Seminary. Gren graduated from the first class of Fuller Seminary. Back then, it was a fledgling effort, and it must have required some courage and faith to believe it would stand the test of time. Today, Fuller graduates more Presbyterian pastors than any other seminary, in addition to pastors of nearly every denomination. Back then, though, it was a very new proposition and Gren was ready to step up to the challenge. After graduation, he served some very prominent Baptist churches as their music Director, including Hollywood Baptist Church. (He would often tell me of how Henrietta Mears applied to serve on their church school staff but they rejected her because she was a woman. She went across the street to Hollywood Presbyterian and founded what became one of the most effective ministries to children and youth of the past century. Gren would always shake his head at their shortsightedness.) After serving several congregations as a pastor and as a musical director of choirs and organist, he found that his calling was leaning away from the Baptist emphasis and more towards Presbyterian. He appreciated the emphasis on evangelism, but he longed for a greater focus on discipleship. And his love for music led him closer to the great hymns than the gospel choruses. So, true to form, he took the brave step of deciding he would switch denominations. The Presbyterian Church was glad to have him, but they needed to do something about that Baptist background. As Gren described it, they had him “dry cleaned” at San Francisco Theological Seminary. He took that year to do work towards a Doctorate. One year later, he was pressed and cleaned just right for Presbyterianism. His first call was to Dupont & Tillicum Presbyterian churches (he served both churches simultaneously). There was a love bond between those little congregations and the Daun’s. By now, three children were in tow: Susan, Shirlee and Timothy. Gren was glad to serve in this new denomination, and they gave their best. There were delightful stories from that ministry, the kinds of things that only happen in church. Like the time a woodpecker was on the roof of the church one Sunday. Gren would begin his message, and the bird would start boring into the wood. He would stop, look up, and the bird would stop. This little, sonic dance had two or three rounds before someone went outside and shooed the bird away. Or the Sunday when the Daun’s family cat, who had just had her kittens, decided to walk from the parsonage to the church and traipsed up the aisle with her little kittens all in a line. The Vietnam Years brought a number of soldiers from Ft. Lewis to the church. When the service was over, Jane invited all of them over to their home for Sunday afternoon meals. Sometimes things had to stretch—Shirlee remembers waffles and cheese—but there was plenty of love to go around for young men who had a lot on their minds. Susan says she learned from those impromptu meals that it was fun to give—that opening your home and your heart was the best way to live. After Dupont & Tillicum there was Bethany. After Bethany, Little Church on the Prairie. And after Little Church, there was Lakewood. Along the way, he served in the organizational structure of the larger church. He was member and chair of many Presbytery committees. He was a Commissioner to the 1969 General Assembly, he was the Moderator of the Presbytery of Olympia in 1977 and he was a Commissioner to the Synod on several occasions. In 1990, he retired. For the first time. Pastor Mark will tell you the rest of that story. He served here at Chapel Hill from 1992-2002. He joined this staff the same year and month that I did and was a delightful colleague of mine for those ten years. He was generous with his praise, kind to my kids and a great support to me as my role increased. I have spoken about his pastoral career. There is another role he had as well. He was a husband and father. Shirley remembers him as a man who was patient and understanding. She realizes, now, the gift that her dad gave her. “Daddy was someone I could always go to. We could discuss anything. It was as if I could just crawl up into his lap and he would hold me, even when I was grown and away from home. Thanks to him, that’s how I see God today: someone who accepts me and holds me.” That quiet and patient wisdom was something Jane appreciated. She says he never yelled at the kids. He was the stabilizer when things got difficult between siblings, or mom was stressed. That sense of being a caring presence is all the more remarkable when you consider that Gren cared for an entire congregation. Sometimes, too much. It was not unusual for the family to sit down to dinner and the phone would ring. They could even name the latest person who was so needy. Gren would be up and out in a flash. That was his way, to a fault. What mattered to Gren was the longer range view. How would his actions impact others for their own spiritual growth. Jane tells the story of Gren agreeing to marry two kids from the Army. The groom was beside him, and there the bride appeared, in hot pants, with a low top. The organist just about stopped in his tracks. But Gren later told Jane that he asked himself, “What would Jesus do?” At that moment, he knew exactly what he would do. He would understand her need to be accepted, and he would marry them. So he did. There are few persons who have ministered in one area for as many years as Gren Daun has ministered here. Elder Donna Rippon is here at Chapel Hill, where she enjoyed knowing Gren’s ministry. But then, she had known that ministry all her life. Because Gren also ministered to her parents, Stan and Eleanor Rippon. And, in that first church in Dupont, just prior to Gren preaching, Stan’s mother, Elsie would tell her deaf husband in a very loud voice that the pastor was about to speak. If you include other grandchildren of Stan and Eleanor, that makes four generations of a family being touched by one life. Along with hundreds of others. Gren’s final passing happened in the context of those to whom he ministered here at Chapel Hill, with Jane at his side in the company of friends and family—the church embracing him from his earliest years until his last moments. Not a bad way to end a life of such outstanding service. And now it is not too much to imagine that he hears music played at just the right tempo—all the greatest hymns and works and not a contemporary tune anywhere on that eternal playlist. He hears the music, and he hears the one thing he has longed to hear all his life: Well done, thou good, and faithful servant.