Daniel Arthur Turton

Dan Turton, a loving father of five and cherished husband, son, brother, and friend, known by many as one of the most effective and beloved Congressional aides in the U.S. House of Representatives, and who also served as the first Deputy Director of Legislative Affairs in the Obama White House, died in Arlington, Virginia on January 9. He was 56 years old.

The cause was complications from Type 1 Juvenile Diabetes, a hereditary condition that plagued Dan every single day since his early 20s, which you’d never have known given his ready smile and ever-present sense of optimism.

Born in Bangor, Maine on February 6, 1967, to Catherine and Thomas Turton, family defined Dan’s life from the very start. The third and arguably the funniest of four boys who were born within 6 ½ years of one another, Dan and his brothers were each other’s best friends, wrestling and playing sports together while perfecting the brotherly art of expressing love by constantly ribbing one another, a love that lasted his entire life.

From his father, a geotechnical engineer who worked for a civil engineering firm, he learned the value of hard work. From his mother, he learned how to find the best in people while welcoming every day as an opportunity for fun. When his father’s job took the family to Al Khobar, Saudi Arabia for six years, it felt to Dan, then in grade school, like the town from Footloose, with no interacting with girls, no music, and very little fun. But they made their own adventures, whether hiking in Nepal or scuba diving in the Red Sea, while learning to meet people where they were.

At fifteen years old, he returned home to attend the Westminster School in Simsbury, CT, beginning a lifelong love affair with the school. He then went to Franklin and Marshall College, where he discovered something unexpected: a whole new group of brothers.

In fact, he found a legion of Kappa Sigma Brothers from the Delta Rho fraternity in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. He became known as a guy who was always there for others, who knew how to create lasting relationships and then nurture them. He was also up for anything, often taking road trips at the drop of a hat: most often to see the Grateful Dead, which he did hundreds of times. One family member remembers that when they didn’t know where he was, they would simply track him down by looking at the Dead’s tour schedule. For the rest of his life, not a year went by when he didn’t take a week-long trip somewhere with his fraternity brothers.

But he had no idea what he wanted to do with his life. After graduating, he took a job in Virginia as a financial analyst with a credit union. He only lasted four weeks. One day, his supervisor found him waking from a deep sleep at his desk. They both agreed that maybe the job wasn’t stimulating enough for him.

As chance would have it, his college roommate and fraternity brother, a St. Louis native named Matt Gelman, had worked that summer as an unpaid intern for Missouri Congressman Dick Gephardt, who was the newly installed Democratic Majority Leader. Gelman was being promoted to full-time staff assistant and intern coordinator. He wondered if his old roommate was interested in joining him on Capitol Hill.

Even though Dan had absolutely no idea who Gephardt was, and had no real interest in politics, in August of 1989, he agreed to become Gelman’s first intern (although Gelman is quick to clarify today that he was the “first but not the best” intern).

Yet, within nine years, by February of 1998, the guy who didn’t even know how to spell “Gephardt” when he started had become the Majority Leader’s Senior Floor Assistant in the House, the liaison between the House Democratic and Republican leadership, and Gephardt’s representative on the House floor – making decisions on floor procedure and scheduling and coordinating House Democratic legislative strategy with other Members.

In those nine years, Dan had so mastered the ins and outs of the House that he also served as the Democratic parliamentarian on the House floor, advising the presiding officer – the person holding the gavel – of the rules and processes of the House chamber itself. After six years in the role, he left to serve as vice-president of Timmons & Company, a lobbying firm, but returned when Democrats won back the House in 2006 to serve as the Majority Staff Director for the House Committee on Rules under Chairwoman Louise M. Slaughter of New York. It wasn’t an uncommon sight then to see Speaker Nancy Pelosi, Leader Steny Hoyer and Majority Whip James Clyburn conferring with one other person on the House floor about Democratic strategy: Dan Turton.

When Barack Obama was elected President in 2008, he recruited Dan to the White House to serve as his representative to the House of Representatives as the Deputy Director of Legislative Affairs. Among the groundbreaking legislation he helped get through the House, the achievement of which Dan was proudest was the essential role he played in convincing Members to pass the Affordable Care Act, which now makes health care possible for 20 million Americans. As one of Dan’s brother marvels today, “People have no idea how significant Dan was to our nation.”

It wasn’t just what he accomplished in Congress that made him special but how he accomplished it that was so memorable. As he did in Saudi Arabia, and in his fraternity, he knew how to create lasting relationships and then nurture them. He treated everyone the same. He had a knack for figuring out personalities and what each Member needed. He never sought attention for himself. He got ahead by being good to other people. He did it the right way.

He was equally adored by other Congressional staff. He was always genuinely happy to see you. He made time for everyone who asked to meet with him and loved nothing more than finding jobs for people. The stories of his generosity are legend, whether it was lending his car to a young staffer in need or teaching interns, step by step, how to network to find jobs.

He wasn’t just the catalyst for goodwill, he was also the recipient, during one of the worst times of his life: in January of 2011, his then-wife, Ashley Westbrook, an extraordinary Congressional aide in her own right, died tragically in a car fire, leaving Dan as a widowed father with twin four -year-old boys, named Shaw and Lane, and a one-year-old daughter, Mason Grace. He was lost, but not for long: the grace he put out into the world came back to him in the form of countless friends and colleagues who helped him navigate those years, including his parents who moved in with him, and others, including Ashley’s parents, that created a community for him and the children on Capitol Hill.

Always an attentive father, he took “hands-on” to a whole other level. Even with his demanding job, he rarely missed school drop-off in the morning or dinner at night, often standing at the sink in his suit and tie late into the night to wash sippy cups and lunch boxes. He somehow found a way to make it to school functions and to be present, always, with his children. And when others experienced heartache or tragedy, he was often the first person to reach out, lending an ear or a hand as best he could.

To better provide for his family, he moved to the private sector, where he worked a series of truly legendary jobs, from the Vice President of Government Affairs for the Entergy Corporation, a Fortune 250 utility giant, to the Vice President of North American Public Policy for General Motors, to the Senior Vice President for Global Government Affairs for Tyson Foods. In each case, he applied the same formula on the Hill, always looking out for others, always making his family of friends bigger.

It was in his first job, at Entergy, that brought the greatest blessing into his life. At a political fundraiser, Dan sat across a conference table from an energy lobbyist named Bree Raum. She remembers thinking that he had the greatest blue eyes she had ever seen. In an elevator at the Republican National Convention in Tampa a number of months later, he asked her out.

Friends marveled that on a trip with his three kids in their minivan to spend time with his fraternity brothers, he invited Bree along, and she not only agreed to go, but she also more than held her own – because like Dan, she meets people where they are and has a knack for making them feel seen and making them feel special.

They were married in 2014 and later had a daughter, named Smith, now seven, and a son, Beck, now four – a very happy family of five children.

She tried hard, for years, to evolve the work uniform that Dan was so well-known for around town, that included a blue suit, always a white shirt, and the same pair of shoes, (which meant he never had to think about his outfit in the morning) – which he would wear at all hours, even to chase his children around the house (and she did have some luck, diversifying his ties and occasionally slipping in a shirt that wasn’t white).

She laughs about Dan’s legendary frugality, which would see him pay anything for unforgettable experiences with family and friends – from Super Bowls to trips for the whole family around the world – but wouldn’t pay $9 for a kickstand on their daughter Mason's bike, which to this day, continues to fall over and knock over other things in the garage. Or, as one of Dan’s brothers puts it, “Dan would pay an unlimited bar tab for an experience with friends, but not $40 for a pair of shoes or a jersey for his favorite team. He just saw that as a waste of money.”

But there were fundamental things that were never in doubt, the things that he cared about more than anything else, which was his family, his optimism about the world, and his love for both sets of brothers, which were the running themes of his life.

It was a life that has now ended way too soon, but one that will never be forgotten.

All Dan’s family and friends hope that his death will serve to focus the attention of lawmakers and the world on the continuing tragedy that is Type 1 Juvenile Diabetes, and the need to fund research to find a cure.

Dan is survived by his wife, Bree Raum, and their children Shaw, Lane, Mason Grace, Smith, and Beck; his parents, Thomas and Catherine Turton; his brothers Jon, Greg, and Josh Turton, their spouses Kendall, Leanne and Amy; and their children, Ryan, Colby, Zachary, Sydney, Delaney and Emily; his In-Laws, Anne and Larry Raum, and Diane Westbrook.

In lieu of flowers, the family asks that you please consider donating to the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation (JDRF.org).

Dan’s life will be honored on Wednesday, January 17th from 2:00 to 3:00 pm at Union Station’s East Hall (50 Massachusetts Avenue, NE, Washington, DC). Doors will open at 1:30 pm and the program will begin at 2:00 pm.

Guests should use the private entrance to the East Hall that is at the far right (east) side of the main entrance to Union Station, and all are encouraged to take the metro or car service due to limited parking at Union Station.

Note if you do arrive by train or metro you need to exit the station and head to the left (East) to the private entrance for the East Hall.