A Sacred Moment


Jack Darkhand

July 24, 1956 - March 22, 2009

He was expansive, outgoing, and larger than life.

Jack Darkhand was born 7/24/56 in New York. When he was about 9, he moved to Torrance in southern CA. He graduated with a BA from UCLA with a major in English liturature and a minor in physics in the 1980's. He moved to the Seattle area in 2003. He most recently worked at AT&T in Bothell as a business analyst, a job he loved. For Jack, though, caring for his family came first.

He was expansive, outgoing, and larger than life. He was a proud Pagan. He was well known in magickal circles in CA, especially in the Santa Cruz and San Francisco Bay Areas. He was interested in astrology, Greek deities, writing, and making homemade cordials. He was infamous for his Sweet Liquid Trouble brew, a liqeur made with damiana. He most recently experiemented with brewing cherry cordials and was looking forward to this summer when he could make some more. He loved music and playing guitar. He made his own magickal tools and was looking forward to starting a business where he could make beautiful tools for others. Mostly, he loved time with his family. Whatever activity Jack did, he did it with gusto and enthusiasm.

He died at home suddenly of a heart attack on 3/22/09. He was deeply loved and will be sorely missed.

He is survived by his loving wife, Linda Darkhand, and his daugters, Sarah (age 5) and Gabby (age 3) all of Kenmore. He is also survived by his father, Joseph Alario of New York, & sisters Miriam Alario-Miller & Antonia Alario of southern CA & Celia Alario of Moab, UT.


Local services will be held Saturday 4/4/09 at 12:30 at Woodinville Unitarian Universalist Church 19020 Woodinville Duvall Road, Woodinville WA 98072


Memorial contributions appreciated to WaMu account 313-624370-0 for support of his wife and children, or Seattle Children's Hospital PO Box 50020 Seattle WA 98145 in memory of Jack Darkhand



Like a shell on the beach...
My memory lingers on....
The waves carry them in...
The sand erodes their shape
The rain buries them low...
The sun shines them gold...
A stranger picks it up... Seals it in his palm....
Throws it back into the sea
There in the depth of time..
My memory lingers on.

Prabha Trimurty

Just as the Wave Cannot Exist

Just as the wave cannot exist for itself, but is ever a part of the heaving surface of the ocean, so must I never live my life for itself, but always in the experience which is going on around me. It is an uncomfortable doctrine which the true ethics whisper into my ear. You are happy, they say; therefore you are called upon to give much.

Albert Schweitzer

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