Daniel Howard Swearingen, 77, of Fresno California, passed away on Feb 7, 2021. He was born on May 19, 1943 to Howard and Eunice Swearingen in Paso Robles, CA.

An avid camper and Dutch oven chef extraordinaire, Daniel was affectionately known by family members as the "bark dust man".  He naturally preferred the outdoors to being inside, and could often be found in the summer months on top of a sleeping bag on a lawn chair in the backyard, serenading the neighbors with the sounds of his sweet snores..

Daniel could bake a Dutch oven apple pie that would rival any restaurant.  He also loved to bake pineapple upside down cake, and it was often requested among the church community we grew up in. He could often be found with tongs in one hand, briquettes in the other, teaching about the latest Dutch oven techniques.

One night, before thanksgiving, he retired to bed after having made two aromatic, savory pumpkin pies.  He awoke the next morning to find one of them devoured by family, with nothing but a pile of forks in the then-empty pie tin.  He grinned and said that "it must have been a good time".

He was great with kids and grandkids.  He would crawl on all fours, playing "horsey" with a kid on his back, then suddenly come upon an imaginary pond and declare his dying thirst.  The child would scream "noo!!" but to no avail as, suddenly and without warning, he would dive headfirst into said pond and the child would inevitably fall forward, usually in a fit of giggles.

Daniel also knew that with promises of ice cream, just about anything was possible.  He had every kid in the neighborhood practicing how to move one hand forward in a circle, and the other hand backwards in a circle at the same time.  Try it, it's surprisingly hard ;).  Daniel was known for following through on all ice cream promises.

If someone was upset about something, he would try to distract them by singing the eponymous "Gloom, Despair, and Agony on me" song by Buck Owens from "Hee Haw". To this day, if someone has a bad day, all it takes is for one of us siblings or aunts or uncles or cousins to wax musical for a moment.  During his wake, all four adult children unwittingly serenaded the neighbors at the ungodly hour of 9pm, belting about "deep dark depression and excessive misery", lost in his memories and our need for each other.

Daniel had a saying for almost every moment of life.  Stubbed your toe?  "It'll stop hurting when the pain goes away".  Lost your keys?  "They're in the last place you look.  Because when you find them you'll stop looking".  Complimented his cooking?  "We aim to please in this here hash house".  At holidays with an almost buffet-like spread, he would quip "if you go hungry it's your own damn fault".  Woke up with an epic bed-head?  "I worked on that all night".

Daniel loved music.  It wasn't uncommon for us four kids to gather around the piano, singing to Les Miserables, Phantom of the Opera, or hymns.  Without fail, he could always be counted on to join.  He also loved the piano solo "American Patrol", a catchy patriotic tune that often led to dancing.  He loved WWII movies, old western movies, and he had a leather hat with an Indiana Jones pin that he love to wear.

Daniel is survived by Elizabeth Swearingen, his partner of 40 years, and by his 4 adult children: Jennifer Gardner, Michelle "Shelly" Stannert, Eric Swearingen, and Leslie Gacad; and by his grandchildren: Hannah, Ivy, Adam "Butch", Iden, Elizabeth, Taylor, Maddie, Evan, Ashley and Sage, and by his great-granddaughter Elena.  Daniel is also survived by his brother, David Swearingen.

Rest in peace, Dad.  We love you more today than we did yesterday, and tomorrow we'll love you more than we do today.