James Grove Dalton

Life is not, until you can see,

and understand the weeping tree;

The colored mist of morning due,

that slides off leaves as if some cue;

From beams of light from yonder hill,

Come pushing darkness further still.

Don't see it with your eyes, for they are blind,

But see it with your heart, and be kind;

For it's a brightness to hold in your hand,

to listen to and understand;

Life is then, as it is for me,

So weep no more my weeping tree.

- James G. Dalton - Sept., 1994

Dear Jim,

For weeks I have caught myself humming "As Time Goes By" and missing about half the words. I'd found that little wrapped music box on your desk and played the tune. It stuck.

Why that tune? Not from the PBS show, I don't think you watched more than a few episodes.

Then today it came to me. This is the "Play it again, Sam" song from Casablanca, we cried through more than once. Another troubled time in this world. I googled the lyrics and found 3 short stanzas of the lyrics you never hear at Rick's Place.

[This day and age we're living in

Gives cause for apprehension

With speed and new invention

And things like the fourth dimension.

Yet we get a trifle weary

With Mr. Einstein's theory.

So we must get down to earth at times

Relax relieve the tension.

And no matter what the progress

Or yet what may be proved

The simple facts of life are such

They cannot be removed.]

You must remember this..............

So now if I continue to hum this little tune it be with the knowledge that the DALTON GANG can go forward with lighter hearts, with a more optimistic attitude for all our futures, if it has to be without you. We will smile and remember YOUR favorite Einstein quote,

"Imagination is more important than knowledge."

All my love ,

Lorie

There are not enough words to honor and capture the good, kind man that was my dad. His life was full of wonderful tales he'd been through.

He'd be happy to tell you one, and they were a joy to hear, even if we'd heard that one a few times before. But my favorite stories were the ones he'd make up on the spot to entertain us as kids, like the adventures of the little red worm. They always ended the same way, with the onomatopoeia clickety clank of the loss of the worm's inexplicable teeth, something we'd all join in a chorus.

I have so many rich memories with him, and the stories of his life live on in me as I'm sure they do with all who met him. Whether he was travelling the world for his design work or just enjoying time on the couch, he brought warmth and joy to everyone around him. He'd always be the first to welcome in a new friend.

Dad was always so supportive of what we were into growing up. I owe so much of my life to that support - from nurturing my interest in computers back when Apple was just a type of fruit, to supporting me dropping out of college to pursue my dreams. He wanted us to not just live our lives, but love them.

Perhaps his encouragement was most clearly shown by example. In paving his own path, setting out from his home town of Richmond, Missouri to attend the Kansas City Art Institute and then starting his own interior design firm Dalton's Interiors. He gained many life-long clients, around Kansas City and the globe. Amongst his many accolades, he received numerous ASID Designer of the Year awards. He achieved his dreams and worked hard to provide a life for his family so that we could have our own. We were very lucky to be raised in such a loving, giving household.

So thank you Dad for being the best father a son could hope to have. I am me because you were you. And know that you were well loved by those around you.

"How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard."

With Love,

Scott Dalton

He was lucky.

James came gracefully into the world, during the great depression.

Before he was two, he nearly left it during a battle with the same illness that took his father.

He was lucky.

When his appendix burst at age 8, he nearly left the world again, but instead he defied the odds. He grew up, handsome and talented, filled with creativity and a love of art and design.

He was lucky.

When prom night turned into a highway accident, before seatbelts and speed limits, he was lucky.

When art school as one the first graduating class of interior designers led to a job, and the job became a career, and the career became a family business with his name on the door, he was lucky.

When he bumped into his future wife, and admired her eyes, he was very, very lucky.

Then he had two boys, and became a father.

And eventually they moved out. He was lucky.

And one son went traveling with him and showed him new places, and the other lived nearby and so was able to annoy him more frequently.

He was lucky.

Over the years he got buried in snow drifts and fell through floors and got leukemia and skin cancer and prostate cancer and waltzed out the other side with kindness in his eyes and an unwavering love for the world that was so hard on him.

He was lucky.

He outlived his enemies, but a man with that many friends could never outlive them all.

So he left the world the way he walked through it, gracefully, and peacefully, and surrounded by love and family.

WE were lucky.

With Love,

David Dalton