Daniel Joseph Moore, February 23, 1964-Nov. 2, 2022
Daniel Joseph Moore was the third child in a family of six siblings. Both of his parents, as well as a brother and a sister, predeceased him. He grew up in Massachusetts and discovered his lifelong passions for photography, bicycling, antique wood crafts, ocean exploration and interstellar travel. His email name was sunstarer.
He grew up in Worcester loving the visual arts. He began painting dreamscapes at a young age and was widely recognized in our household for his startlingly realistic portrayal of a little gravy gremlin, drawn in permanent marker on bedroom wallpaper, titled “Gravy Lump” . Our mom, not being the best cook, had fun anyway and framed it with the same marker.
Dan hated school. He felt constrained and spent hours after school at our local university library scouring the shelves for beloved scientific publications and journals. Later he attended this school, Clark University, but had already passed beyond its walls. He believed in self-education, and I attribute my large vocabulary and excellent spelling to many years of teasing and challenging from my brother.
His perfectionism and personal curiosity served him well as a carpenter, photographer and web designer. He has been independent for most of his career. He built cabinets and window treatments for some of Boston’s wealthiest homes. He built Japanese-style doors for beautiful California homes. And when my husband and I bought an old foreclosed house for our large, messy family, Daniel made cabinets, shelves and moldings to my liking as gifts.
He moved to Berkeley and fell in love with the climate, the people, the wide open spaces to roam. He enjoyed swimming in the bay, hiking all day in the local hills, and cooking amazing meals from the abundance of local produce.
Daniel was curious about everything, and my favorite memories of him are when we were exploring. Late at night, we were recently on the coast of Cape Cod, with a bright moon and low tide. We saw a sandbar and started walking. I remember starting to feel anxious after walking for 10 minutes in the ocean. But sharing Dan’s awe with the sky and the sea in the dark was humbling. He had a deep connection to the natural world. He respected his authority.
Daniel did not suffer from fools but sympathized with suffering.
He was a perfectionist and his worst critic.
He treasured his friends and family.
He loved the poetry of Mary Oliver. In his memory, please read his poem “Sleeping in the Forest”:
I thought the earth
remembers me, she
took me back so tenderly, accommodating
her dark skirts, her pockets
full of lichens and seeds. I was sleeping
like never before, a stone
on the bed of the river, nothing
between me and the white fire of the stars
but my thoughts, and they floated
light as butterflies among the branches
perfect trees. All night long
I heard the little kingdoms breathe
around me, insects and birds
who do their work in darkness. All night long
I was rising and falling, like in water, clutching
with a bright destiny. In the morning
I had disappeared at least a dozen times
into something better.
A few members of the Berkeley community shared their memories of Moore:
I have known Daniel for more than 10 years, maybe more. He has helped my husband and I with all sorts of computer issues. He was a wizard, always available 24/7 and very kind. He never made us feel foolish for the trivial problems we had. He was our computer surgeon and we respected him like you respect your doctor. I have recommended it to all my friends and have always felt good about it. Daniel was a neighborhood treasure.
I miss him everyday.
—Micki T.
Daniel — helping me in an instant, no matter the problem. Always responsive to perceived trauma of loss of online connectivity or email availability. But also, more. He chose a nonfrenzied life so he could listen. And experience it. We will miss you. Not just because you’ve digitally saved us more times than I can count. But because you were a rare, unusual, fierce spirit in a very difficult world.
– Katherine V.
Daniel was a man of many deep talents and skills, and he brought a quiet but infectious enthusiasm to all of his many passions – from woodworking and abalone hunting to photography, swimming in the sea, repairing computers, upgrading and programming and designing books and websites. He generously shared his expertise with friends and freelance clients (which were often synonymous terms). Income from his coaching and consulting practice was limited primarily by his generosity; he frequently worked for what he called “neighbour rate” or “nonprofit rate” — and often gave free advice because he was so invested in the success of his friends and clients.
Above all, Daniel was a facilitator. Although a skilled craftsman and artist in many media, Daniel seemed to take even more pleasure in supporting, motivating and enabling the work of others. He enjoyed teaching artists how to add computers to their artistic toolbox, and when they posted their work online, he enthusiastically shared that work with other clients.
Despite all his computer expertise, he never criticized clients who weren’t comfortable with computers. An elderly client said: “What I loved about Daniel was that he never made me feel stupid. No question was too minor, and he always answered them. He was so kind to make me feel understood without making me feel like an idiot. Daniel helped this customer upgrade two generations of computers, and now she says she will never buy a computer again; she’ll settle for the last one that Daniel configured and customized for her.
Daniel added a new meaning to the word “neighborhood”. He first met several of his friends during his late-night walks near his flat on College and Woolsey streets, carrying a china dinner plate for his beloved late outdoor cat – a stray with whom he had befriended years earlier. During his nightly rounds of the neighborhood, he gleaned and shared neighborhood news and kept an eye out for strangers acting suspiciously, and he performed many acts of individual kindness, such as hauling trash from a elderly couple on the street for their weekly collection day. . Every neighborhood deserves a Daniel.
Daniel once spotted a neighbor taking pictures with a compact camera. He asked to see some of the man’s photos, praised his eye and suggested he develop his skills, starting with late-night email advice. Later, he became this budding photographer’s mentor and trainer, helping him upgrade his camera, teaching him manual controls, providing him with the latest photographic software and teaching him how to use it. He coached and encouraged the neighbor through his first solo photo exhibition, which Daniel viewed with enormous personal pride.
Daniel also played an important civic role in Berkeley, campaigning against landlords who converted apartments into AirBnb sites and encouraging (or bribing) renters to move elsewhere, simultaneously increasing landlord profits on every unit they rented and bypassing municipal rent control and zoning. laws prohibiting unregistered hotels in residential areas. He researched the issue to document how widespread the practice was and how it worsened the city’s housing crisis. He explained his findings to all council and staff members and political candidates who would listen and were interviewed by Berkeleyside on his discoveries.
-Pierre S.
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