Dale Lee Cowles

On April 7, 2021, at 3:32 PM, Dale moved on peacefully, surrounded by family. A champion of hard work, a believer in truth, and a man of Christ — he was as kind and stubborn to his last as he was throughout his best. Praying with family and insisting on taking care of himself every step of the way, he told jokes with a wink of the eye, even as he lay on his hospital bed.

Dale was the grandson of a dirt farmer and the son of a sharecropper. He saw his father, with just an eighth-grade education, become a small business owner. And in his own time, Dale became the first in his family to graduate from college. Albeit with a 1.9 GPA, this was much appreciated by his children. Every suspect report card they received was met with the reminder that they’d done better than he had.

Next to God and his family, Dale loved his country with all his heart. He served in the U.S. Navy during his younger years. Initially assigned to the dignified position of a Navy mechanic, he was quickly reminded that he’d inherited none of his father’s mechanical fortitude. Not to be deterred from being helpful, Dale created his own position: Chief Educational Petty Officer. He sold his superior on the idea by promising he’d get the man featured in the Navy’s Stars & Stripes magazine. A promise which he dutifully fulfilled.

Born and raised in Iowa, Dale came to Seattle with little more than a suitcase, a few hundred dollars, and a job offer. He eventually went on to build one of the most well-respected employee benefits divisions in the region at Kibble & Prentice (KPI). Founder of CHARM school (Client Helpfulness And Relationships Methods), Dale developed a culture at KPI that lives on to this day. It’s one where integrity rules, kindness abounds, and life-long relationships are fostered.

A mentor and a friend, Dale wasn’t afraid to pull any punches with constructive criticism. Luckily for us all, he believed in doing so behind closed doors. And as private as he was with his feedback, he was equally as boisterous with his praise. He used everything from Cowles Crowns (small stickers given for exemplary acts) to kazoos at company meetings and baseball practices to honor and bolster a community focused on success.

Dale taught those around him to recognize and celebrate achievements. He practiced the act of smiling with your eyes, being sure to raise your cheekbones and focus on eye contact. And he was always quick to remind you about the universal truth of people — that we all have a tattoo on our forehead that says “Make Me Feel Important.”

Dale’s driving was as legendary as his depth perception. A 59 MPH left lane warrior, he could frequently be spotted shaking his head at those whizzing by on the right while belting out Bible hymns and listening to self-development seminars. And his singing voice was dare we say, memorable. If not for its volume, definitely for its inability to stay on key.

A baseball enthusiast, his family regularly lamented that if Dale could pick a second religion it would undoubtedly be found on the diamond. A truth which his son Casey carries on today.

As a young Navy man, Dale began his martial arts training. It proved to be a wise athletic pursuit. For while his fleetness of feet gave quicksand a run for its money, his catlike reflexes were capable of stopping a 100 MPH fastball to the face. And while his wicked precision earned him a second degree blackbelt in karate, be not confused. A gentleman and a teddy bear he held within. After all, he met the love of his life over sheets and underwear — kindly accepting her admonishment of how he treated his fitted sheet. (Sheets are meant to be folded and not stuffed into pillowcases, should you too need a Mary Rae lesson.)

Dale was the kind of man who couldn’t refrain from helping people, whether they wanted it or not. And because he could always see so much potential, there was so much advice to give. It’s a legacy that lives on through his daughter Sabrina, though she’s built upon his ‘helpfulness’ and keeps her guidance relegated to her counseling clients.

A shocking romantic, Dale was known to invite Mary Rae onto the deck for a spectacular sunset or particularly large full moon. He believed in pulling out a lady’s chair, opening her door, and sending his wife love notes (some of which were for her eyes only). And let us all not forget about Dale’s handwritten blurbs. He kept a collection of witty cowboy cards that he used for any and all occasions. His passion for the written word is carried on by his daughter Mikaela, who wholeheartedly embraces his belief that words have power.

He is survived by his wife, Mary Rae; his children, Sabrina Hickel (Doug), Casey Cowles, and Mikaela Judd (Garrett); his grandchildren, Meghan Hickel, Riley Hickel, Ryan Hickel, and Penellope Judd; his brother Doyle Cowles (Lori); and all of the amazing men and women he mentored.

A man of faith, he was confident in where he was going. (Daddy, we’re so grateful we’ll be able to join you again one day.) He believed God called him to create great environments where great people could build success. That’s what he did over the years, working closely with Junior Achievement, the Innovation and Entrepreneurship Center of Seattle University, Seattle Urban Academy, and CHRISTSA, where he served as Chairman of the Board, amongst other roles.

A small, family-only graveside service will be held on April 17. Once larger gatherings are allowed, a memorial will be held. If you would like notice of the memorial, please email: [email protected].

Dale Cowles served on the Board of CRISTA Ministries. He had a passion for education and supporting children, and was a huge supporter of CRISTA Camps.

In lieu of flowers or a gift, please consider a donation to CRISTA Camps in his memory.

You can do so by sending a check to CRISTA Camps at 19303 Fremont Avenue N. Seattle, WA 98133, or online at cristacamps.com/give/.

A private family service will be held on April 17th at 11am at Masonic Memorial Park in Tumwater, Washington.