Alan Baker Dillon, 1923-2009
Five days after my own father passed away, so did the father of one of my friends and business partners. David Dillon’s father, Alan Dillon passed away on May 18, 2009… on the same day as my father’s funeral.
There are some interesting touch points between the lives of our families:
- David’s father Alan attended Columbia Bible College, in Columbia, South Carolina, as did my father and mother, Del and Donna Birkey
- Alan and Myrtle Dillon were missionaries in Japan, as were my wife’s parents, Sam and Grace Wolgemuth, for a 2 year time period
- The two couples met and knew each other during these 2 years in Japan
- After serving in Japan, Alan and Myrtle lived in Rockford for a time as did my wife, Deb… and they attended the same church
- David Dillon and my wife Deb, met in Rockford at the same church, and attended a home Bible study together
- I met David in the home of the friends who hosted that Bible study group, through Deb
- David, Deb and I formed a musical trio called Windward and we performed in the Chicago area from 1980-1983
- David and I and another partner formed Headstand Media together in 2007
My prayers and condolences go out to the entire Dillon family.
You can find more information on Alan Dillon and the Dillon family at this website: http://www.alan-dillon.com
Hi Randal;
I was viewing your site and read the story of your father and your friend David’s father passing on within weeks of each other. My condolences to both of you. I some how felt a need to share a poem with you that I wrote years ago that is metaphorical to life or the spirit there in.
IT’S “HIS” WILL
By Mary Artis
There lies a bud amongst the harsh forest where the trunks grow tall and wide.
Then came the rain and nourishing sun. The roots push forward against the wall that protect it from harm’s way.
The leaves begin to grow. The buds begin to show. The pebbles begin to flourish against the radiant sun.
Its’ stems stand tall and erect. Its’ thorns as sharp as needles as its’ coat of armour against its’ enemies.
There it stands, tall and proud, the most beautiful creation around the world.
Yet fragile against the signs of winter, the signs of time. Finally, it whithers against the chill.
Its stems stand bare and roughened with age. Its’ roots lie domant beneath the protective wall.
Knowing that… because its “HIS” WILL… The King of Kings, The ruler of all seasons, of all things, then…
It shall rise again. But until then, it shall Rest in Peace.
Randal, though our bodies shall return to dust, as you know, our spirits shall live for all eternity. Hopefully you and David can find comfort in knowing that you have that moment to look forward to seeing your dad(s) again. God Bless.
Sincerely,
Mary Artis