University Letter

UND's faculty and staff newsletter

Remembering Daniel Westby

Daniel Westby
Daniel Westby

It is with regret that we announce the death of Daniel Westby, Building Services Technician for Chandler Hall, Burtness Theatre, and Gamble Hall.

Daniel joined his mom and dad, succumbing to his year-long battle with cancer at the Arizona home of his brother Rick and sister in law Julie.

He is survived by his brothers Bill and Rick (Julie), his nieces Jennifer and Adia, his nephews Alex, Josh and Bret, who he particularly adored. He is preceded by Ken and Maxine.

Dan had a large extended family through his many years at the University of North Dakota, and could be counted on to be supportive yet speak his mind even when it was inconvenient to do so. He carried a dry sense of humor that was always perfectly timed and deftly delivered and was generally a friend to all.

Dan especially delighted in doting on Bret and Adia, spending many weekends with them and Bill.

Following is a tribute from Loren Liepold, Technical Director, Theatre Arts:

Dan was a custodian in the very best sense of the word. He took ownership of our spaces and tended to our buildings with a class, a distinction, a patience, and a love of work that was unmatched. The buildings under his watch were treated as if they were his own. If there was any problem, he saw that it was taken care of. I can’t tell you the number of times that I would find something that needed repair and would call in a work order only to find that Dan had already taken care of it, usually a day or two before I saw the problem.

He futzed. He fretted over details. Dust didn’t pile up, windows were cleaned. There was always an extra sheen to any space that he tended. It went mostly unnoticed by the students, faculty, patrons, and public who stepped into his spaces, but the work was there. The love was there. The care was there. And, in the true honoring of what he did, it all looked so effortless that one took for granted the tough labor that went into making a one hundred plus year old building and a theatre filled with dust and dirt look good.

The last time that I saw Dan was probably a couple of months ago. A BST’s shift is usually 11 p.m. to 7 a.m., so our paths didn’t cross as often as one would wish. Additionally, he had been on sick leave for some time. On that morning I had gone around the front of Burtness to check doors, walked into the building, looked around, and thought to myself, “It seems like Dan was here.” As I stepped toward the elevator, Dan walked out of the house. He was back, and, I thought, looking pretty good. We talked for a while, he told me a few things he was going to check on, and we went about our day. I learned a few weeks later that he had to quit his job because he no longer had the energy to work a full shift.

We can feign admiration for sports figures, for famous personalities, for those who are rich beyond dreams or imagination. But the heart and soul of us as a people are in the hands of those who are unnoticed, underpaid, and ready and willing to give a bit of themselves in tough labor, with few outright benefits. Those men and women who vacuum our floors, who clean our toilets, who dust our counters, and who wipe our windows, they soar far above any athlete or movie star in my book. And Dan, well, he was in a class all his own. That rare air of the elite.

Dan will rest near Ken and Maxine at Resurrection Cemetery in East Grand Forks.

Dan had a soft spot for the Dakota Boys Ranch; any gifts can be made there. If one was especially moved to memorialize him, please choose to stop smoking.