Columnist John Katsilometes: Overcoming a grave episode

Monday, July 30, 2001 | 8:23 a.m.

John Katsilometes is the Sun features editor. His column appears Mondays. Reach him at kats@lasvegassun.com or 259-2327.

Dan lives.

That's important to note, because for a few days Dan was dead. At least he was in my mind. See, I'd been told Dan had been murdered, shot while at work not long ago.

I was informed of this one afternoon recently as I was picking up my car from the shop. Suffering a case of clutch shock from a $675 repair bill, I encountered a person I'd met once before. This person is experienced at handling facts and disseminating information; I would have no compelling reason to doubt or question whatever he tells me.

And he told me that my friend Dan had been gunned down.

At least he cured my clutch shock.

This person had a conversation with Dan in which my name surfaced. A couple of years ago I wrote about Dan bowling a 299, which is just a single pin shy of a perfect game. He had long since given up his life-threatening habits of alcohol and drug abuse, and the morning after bowling his 299 he told me that he'd tried every type of drug and alcohol there is, but he never had a better feeling than he did after bowling a 299.

Several months later Dan happened to tell this person about that column. By then Dan and I had fallen out of touch, and I'd only heard of his life in bits and pieces. Then, just days ago, a person stares me in the face and tells me Dan has been shot, and that a week before the shooting he had been asking about me.

Shocked, I wondered why I hadn't heard until then about a shooting involving Dan. I wondered if the shooting had actually occurred at one of the notorious playgrounds he used to frequent during the Crown Royal-and-crack days. I wondered if he had suffered a relapse and returned to the darkness, and if the shooting was the result of a bad drug deal or robbery or a case of mistaken identity in the night.

I also wondered if Dan simply stepped in to help someone at work at the wrong moment. I couldn't believe anyone who knew Dan would ever intentionally shoot him; and I didn't yet have the will to call a mutual friend and ask for the details of the incident.

Finally I started nosing around the Internet, searching for Dan's name. Indeed there was a murder at his place of business several months ago, but it was not Dan who was shot. It was another employee. I kept searching and started feeling that, perhaps, I'd been given wrong information.

Agitated, I hastily pulled Dan's phone number from my list at work. I hadn't called him in quite a while and wondered if the number was still his. I held my breath and dialed the number, knowing that whoever answered might be an old roommate or friend or even widow who would loathe being asked if Dan were there.

A woman answered and I asked, "Is Dan there?"

"Hang on," she said.

The dead man took the phone and I asked if he was the Dan I knew.

"You got him," he said. I said my name and asked Dan if he'd been shot in the past, oh, two years or so.

"No, unfortunately," he said with a laugh. He's doing well, married and moving into a new home. He's still working at the same place -- "You could write a book about it" -- and is gratefully still living the right life.

Even though he never left, I'm glad to have Dan back. We have a lot to catch up on. And sorry for the confusion, my friend.