A Tribute to Dan Tichonchuk

Dan Tichonchuk was a photog I worked with on the UT. He was short, funny and Polish. He was also a very nice guy. The photo is of Dan and our boss, Stan Griffin, also a great guy and a terrific boss.

My memories of Dan Tichonchuk agree with all the others, he was a genuinely nice guy and a dedicated photog.

One of my fondest memories was when we were sitting around on the night shift shortly after I came to 919 and he was telling me about his wedding. I was fresh from the bush of Idaho and totally naive about anything Polish, especially weddings. He had me rolling on the floor as he described the three-day event with non-stop food and drink and guests who would celebrate until they couldnt stand up, then lie down in the most comfortable corner they could find until the festivities began again the next day. And I can still imagine him presiding over the whole shebang with that impish grin of his, never flustered, just making sure everyone had enough to eat and drink and a time good enough to exhaust them into a coma.

And I recall the sports stats notebooks he used to keep. I have no idea what they were or what they contained, but he was religious about keeping track of a lot of something... scores or batting averages or the grass length of his favorite golf green or whatever it was he listed over the years. And I do know he could give you most any sports statistics your little heart required, and do it off the top of his head, win or lose, drunk or sober.

The other outstanding memory I have of Dan was an incredible story he told when he came into work one Monday. He calmly told us that he had been kidnapped and taken to Mexico over the weekend! And he was serious! He said he had been to a dance or some event, I think at a Chula Vista country club, and for some reason, came out alone. I think his wife, Cookie had gone home earlier. He said he was accosted in the parking lot by a couple of Mexicans who did not speak English, but threatened him with knives, one may have also had a small gun. He said they forced him into his own car, the little gray Toyota station wagon he drove, and made him drive them to Mexico and down the coast toward Ensenada. At some point they turned out into the desert and drove to a totally isolated spot. By now it was in the early hours, totally dark and Dan said he was convinced they were going to kill him, probably just for his car. They apparently stepped away to talk between themselves, and he managed to slip into the brush and then elude them as they looked for him in the darkness.

I don't recall how he said he managed to find his way back to the highway or how he got back to Tijuana. But he knew better than to contact the Mexican police while still in Mexico. It was common for any American involved in anything in Mexico at the time, to be put in jail while things were sorted out. It seems like he said he walked across the border that Sunday, or perhaps he called someone to come and get him, but whatever the case, he showed up at work the next Monday quite as calm and as collected as he ever was and so glad to be alive that as far as I know, he never did pursue things any further

He did say he hated to lose his car.