Ode to Danny Dokko

I’m writing this on the eve of somewhat of a momentous day in Bethel history.  Daniell Dokko will be leaving us for Stanford tomorrow, and I feel that I can’t let him go without some reflections of the last few years since knowing him…

I remember the first significant conversation I had with him was at a retreat.  I distinctly remember thinking that I really hope this guy makes Bethel his home away from home church because he seems like a good guy.  We spoke for about 15-20 minutes about his thoughts on college life and about his Christian walk in general.  I remember thinking… man, this guy is ME back in college.  He grew up in a very conservative, somewhat strict Christian home.  He had a lot of his family’s expectations riding on him.  He was an engineering major.  Also the fact that there are a lot of expectations on him because of his family’s involvement in church seemed to ring true with me too.  In fact, I actually told him after our conversation that he was living my life when I was a freshman/sophomore in college, and I told him that if things continue as they were, he would have his most challenging year both academically and spiritually during the following year.  I remember thinking that I didn’t want him to make the same mistakes I did in college… I didn’t want him to become jaded by the things which jaded me back then.  I knew then that for a while, he would be partly my responsibility while he lived in Maryland.  This was the start of a brotherhood I would grow to cherish immensely.

Over the years, I can honestly say that Danny has been a great blessing to me.  He may believe that it was I who taught him a lot about life and the world out there, but honestly I can say that I think I learned just as much from him.  His cheerful, uncomplaining attitude taught me how to look on the positive aspects of everyday life.  As cynical as I am, I think that I would be more so without his example.  When I was tempted to think the worst of someone he would show me how to give people the benefit of the doubt.  He gave of his time and his talent to the church unhesitatingly.  His dedication to this body was unwavering.  It was easy to see that he cared about so many and that in return many cared about him.  Even though I’m sure he didn’t want recognition (and that even this little essay is probably making him feel uneasy) he was recognized as a leader and servant.  And if you know him, you know that walking across campus with him is a tedious task.  This was for two reasons.  One, every twenty or so steps he’d run into someone who knows him and just wants to say “hi”.  And two, if there happened to be any semi-decent cars parked along the way, he’d have to stop and investigate for quite sometime – I mean, the carry-on baggage screeners at Beirut Airport should be as thorough.

Music was something that we also shared.  I remember actually going with him to shop for the guitar he now has.  I thought it was perfect – bright, skinny, and unique in design – just like him.  I loved to play guitar and sing with him.  I wish we would have done it more often.  I was actually supposed to sing one last duet with him for offeratory before he went away, but because of my last business trip and his trip to Philly, we couldn’t arrange it.  Maybe it’s for the better.  Maybe it will be motivation for us to come together again someday to finish what we started.

Anyway, as he is now leaving, it’s really hard for me to accept.  I know that I will see him again someday… there are always people you meet in life who will be that for you.  You just know it.  I remember meeting his family and having dinner with them one evening while I was on a business trip to L.A.  I was moved by how much Christ-centered love there was shared so freely to even me – a virtual stranger.  And if you’ve seen the size of his family, you know that there is PLENTY to go around.  But it seemed to me that there was always room for one more at the table.  That night, I was Nathan Dokko II (their youngest is also named Nathan).  I look forward to seeing them again…  And Danny, I look forward to seeing you again.  This does not end here.  I am bound to you my friend, my brother.  Have a God-glorifying and blessed life.  I will miss you.