Dane Adam Tvedt Benefit

By Troy L. Jackson
Contributing Writer

At McDonald’s, where he was a manager, Dane Tvedt (pronounced “tweet”) always knew who was angry or sad. He’d say, “Come on, stick your hands out.” Then he pecked at their hands with his fingers and said “Hungry chicken! Hungry chicken!” Almost always, whoever it was smiled and felt better.

There were others who weren’t chicken-able. Dane knew who they were, and he knew how to make them laugh, often with a shared memory, something they’d both thought was funny. He could get them through their shifts, make them forget they were working under pressure in a fast food restaurant.

“April 12, 2010. Moorhead, Minn. (WDAY TV) - A Moorhead man is dead after rushing to help a young boy who was trying to start a grill using gasoline. Authorities say 21-year old Dane Tvedt heard the grill explode and saw his neighbor, 12-year-old Devan Vanbrunt, engulfed in flames. They say Tvedt immediately ran to help the boy, then collapsed and went into cardiac arrest.”

Dane started working at McDonald’s when he was 16. As a crewperson, he would shout “Oven mitt man makes no mistakes. I made that cheeseburger!” Or sing Beatles songs with co-workers. People who knew him tend to describe him as “fun-loving.” He could animate the kitchen, like the kind of player who can lift a team.

Dane’s parents, Tommy and Leah, told WDAY reporter Todd Kurtz that Dane was running, screaming for help. There was panic in his voice, and then they saw him collapse. “We thought he got knocked out and we just kept waiting for him to - we thought for sure he was going to take a breath and come to if we could just breathe for him but he was turning purple.”

At McDonald’s, Dane was found to be very good with customers who had complaints. They almost always went away happy, or not as unhappy. He was a fast learner, mastered every task and systematized it, could get the kitchen through a rush. After three years as a crewperson, he was promoted to manager when he was 19. He’d been manager a year and a half when he died.

This writer, a student at MSUM, would go in and order a double cheeseburger with small fries, and always see festivities in the kitchen. I finally asked for the manager, spoke to Dane Tvedt for a minute, and heard myself asking for a job application. I’m from Los Angeles, and often lonesome. I wanted to be part of that kitchen.

Tommy and Leah Tvedt were in shock, just trying to grasp what had happened. Then there were the business matters to get through, just when they were least able to cope with them.

Ask somebody who’s lost a family member:

First, there is loss of income. When you lose a son, you don’t just go to work the next day. Tommy Tvedt stayed at home to be with his family and comfort them.

Funerals are very expensive. You find out how expensive when you suddenly have to pay for one.

The Tvedts are not legally responsible for the ambulance, emergency and medical treatment, but felt morally responsible and are paying for them.
There was the autopsy to pay for. It couldn’t be performed in Moorhead, had to be done elsewhere. It adds up.

Dane was only 21 years old and had no life insurance. He was very level-headed, had spoken to his father about buying some, but hadn’t yet done so.

Dane had taken out a mortgage, bought a house at the age of 19. It was in his name. The Tvedts had to hire a lawyer to get the probate process started, and make payments on the mortgage at the same time.

Tommy Tvedt’s six sisters have organized a benefit to help him and Leah through this time of trouble. It’s at 5 p.m. on Saturday, July 17, at Horizon Middle School, 3601 12th Avenue South, in Moorhead. There’s an Italian pasta dinner at 5, then a silent auction, and at 7 p.m., musician Damian Marchand provides entertainment. For information, please call (605) 868-4245.

We’ll see you there.

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