In Loving Memory of
September 28, 1956 • April 15, 2026
“I am the resurrection and the life.
The one who believes in me will live, even though they die.”
— John 11:25
The full memorial service for Daniel Woods, held at Florence First Seventh-day Adventist Church, Florence, South Carolina — May 4, 2026.
Listen to the Service
Today we gather to honor and remember the life of Daniel Woods—a man whose story is not just measured in years, but in the depth of his love, his faith, and the countless lives he touched along the way.
Daniel was born on September 28, 1956, in Green Bay, Wisconsin, to George and Ardis Woods. The youngest of three, alongside his siblings John and Dianne, he grew up surrounded by family before moving around age 10 to Avon Park, Florida—a place that would help shape the man he would become. From an early age, Daniel showed a quiet brilliance and a deep curiosity about the world. He pursued his education with dedication, attending Walker Memorial Academy and graduating from South Florida State College, before continuing on to the University of South Florida, where he earned his bachelor’s degree in mechanical engineering and went on to complete a master’s program in thermal engineering. During that time, he even completed his dissertation with Westinghouse Electric Corporation in Pensacola—an early glimpse into a career that would be marked by both excellence and humility.
In 1982, Daniel began his career with Harris Corporation in Melbourne, Florida, where he worked on highly classified government defense projects. Even just a few weeks ago, when asked about that time by his son, he still wouldn’t share the details—taking those secrets with him. He carried those experiences with quiet dignity and humility, never seeking recognition, never needing to boast. That was who he was—a man of substance, not spectacle.
Then in 1983, something even more important began—he met Gina. Their story is one that still brings a smile. They were set up through Gina’s grandfather Herald Sheaffer and uncle Bill Shaeffer, who also lived in Avon Park and made the introduction. Gina was hesitant at first, but after meeting at church, Daniel became very smitten. He would pace back and forth for hours contemplating the best place to take her on a date, working up the courage to call and ask her out. Thankfully, Daniel had a few advantages on his side: a nice Toyota Celica, smooth guitar playing, and a way of connecting through genuine conversation and shared values. It didn’t take long for him to win her heart. Just ten months later, on October 28, 1984, they were married in Avon Park, Florida. What followed was 41 years of love, partnership, and unwavering devotion.
Daniel didn’t just love Gina—he cherished her. Having met during Christmas, he told her that she was the best gift he ever received. He showed it in quiet, meaningful ways. On their 10th anniversary, he bought her a beautiful watch and left it for her to find the next morning. When she opened it, she was overwhelmed—not just by the gift, but by the man who gave it. She felt like she had never been treated so well, like he was everything she needed.
“He told her she was the best gift he ever received.”
Together, they built a life centered on faith and family. They lived in Melbourne until 1986, when Daniel was called to work for General Electric in Florence, South Carolina. Over the next 15 years, he contributed to innovations that helped advance MRI technology, earning 13 patents along the way. During that time, he also taught part-time at Florence-Darlington Technical College and Francis Marion University, sharing his knowledge and passion with the next generation.
It was also during those years that they welcomed their two children, Kayla and Andrew. When Kayla was born, Daniel was so concerned she might get mixed up in the hospital that he left Gina’s side and followed the baby to the nursery—just to make sure they had the right one. That was Daniel: loving, protective, and very attentive.
In 2001, Daniel followed a calling that would define the next chapter of his life—he became a full-time teacher at Mayo High School. He felt called to something more personal, something that would allow him to be more present with his family. For the next 20 years, until his retirement in the fall of 2021, he taught engineering at Mayo High School and Florence-Darlington Institute of Technology. After retiring, he didn’t slow down much—he became a part-time professor at Francis Marion University, teaching physics and introduction to engineering until December of 2024.
Daniel had a remarkable gift for teaching. He could take the most complex ideas and break them down in a way anyone could understand. But more importantly, he made people feel seen. He didn’t just teach subjects—he mentored lives. One student, struggling with a difficult home life and searching for a positive male role model, found that in Daniel. Because Daniel cared. He always cared.
His faith was the foundation of everything he did. As a committed member and head elder at Florence First Seventh-day Adventist Church, he dedicated himself to serving others—teaching Sabbath school, giving sermons, and even starting Wednesday night Bible study over Zoom after COVID. His love for God wasn’t something he simply spoke about—it was something he tried to live out daily.
Daniel also knew how to enjoy life. In his younger years, he was an excellent water skier and enjoyed riding motorcycles with his brother John. He loved the beach, the water, and cruising—starting with his honeymoon and continuing with five more cruises in the two years after his retirement. In January of 2026, he spent his final vacation doing what he loved—at the beach in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. He had a deep love for space and watched many rocket launches at Kennedy Space Center. He loved football—especially his Green Bay Packers. He loved cars, good conversations about politics and current events, and studying the Bible and Bible prophecy deeply.
But perhaps one of the most beautiful pictures of Daniel isn’t found in his accomplishments, but in a quiet, nightly tradition. Every night before bed, he would hold Gina’s hand. It was simple, constant, and full of love. And in the end, he held her hand until his final breath.
That is who Daniel Woods was.
A brilliant mind, yet deeply humble. A man who put others before himself. A loving father, a faithful husband, a devoted servant of God. A teacher not just in the classroom, but in life. A man of integrity, of compassion. A selfless heart.
We will miss him greatly—his wisdom, his kindness, his steady presence, and even the little things that made him uniquely him. But we do not grieve without hope. Daniel believed with all his heart that this is not the end, and that one day, we will see him again.
Until that day, we carry his legacy forward—in how we love, how we serve, and how we live.
Daniel Woods will never be forgotten.
A Funeral Sermon in Celebration of the Life of Dan Woods
“The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handywork. Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night sheweth knowledge.”
— Psalm 19:1–2
The very first words of Scripture tell us in Genesis 1:1, “In the beginning God created the Heavens and the Earth.” Nature, whether on this planet or within the vast created universe, is one of the ways God reveals Himself to us. The stars themselves are like a giant newspaper just waiting to be read, filled with fascinating facts that reveal something of the greatness of our God.
Our planet, Earth, is part of our solar system, which is part of the Milky Way galaxy. The Milky Way is a hundred thousand light years across. A light year is the distance light travels in one year—5.88 trillion miles. I have trouble wrapping my mind around the first trillion, but light travels 5.88 trillion miles in a year, and our galaxy is a hundred thousand light years across.
Let me add some perspective. If you spent a dollar every second, day and night without stopping, it would take you 31,000 years to spend a trillion dollars. A million seconds is about 11 days ago; a billion seconds ago was 1994; but a trillion seconds ago was 31,000 years in the past. And the Milky Way is just one of hundreds of billions of galaxies in the known universe—hundreds of billions, each one containing billions of stars. The numbers are almost impossible to grasp.
Dan understood numbers like that. And each time he made a calculation, he wasn’t just doing math—he was learning more about the mind of God who created this vast universe. Pastor Louie Giglio asks the question: Why is the universe so big? If it exists just to be a home for you and me, it’s oversized. But if its primary purpose is to display the awesomeness and majesty of our God, then the universe is exactly the right size. It’s a canvas painted by the hand of the Almighty, showing us His power, His creativity, His glory.
This was the kind of thing Dan loved to explore. Dan loved space. He loved it the way some people love art or music. But I believe his love of space went beyond just the wonder of it—it was about understanding the God who made it all. Dan spent his entire life exploring that greatness through engineering, whether running calculations for space or figuring out how to hyper-cool the superconducting magnets used in MRI machines.
Dan was proud of his work with GE on the cutting-edge technology of the MRI. He didn’t talk about it much, and when he did he was very humble about it, making sure you understood that he was just part of the team. But he was genuinely excited when he was able to benefit from the technology he had helped build, and told the nurse about some of the technical details of how it worked. I was fascinated as he explained it to me several weeks ago.
Dan was a mechanical engineer with a deep focus on thermal dynamics. But with all of his training and experience, Dan had a way of breaking things down so people could understand it. He loved teaching and explaining these concepts to his students, and because he had both the education and real-world experience in the field, he was able to make what would have been boring technical material intensely interesting. He always had unique and valuable perspectives—and in fact, this is one of the factors that drew Gina to him.
Dan understood the physics, the precision, the elegance of what God had designed into the fabric of creation. He was reading the newspaper of God’s handiwork.
Every decision Dan made in his career was grounded in something deeper than ambition or achievement. Dan had his priorities in order: God first, then his family, then his church, then his work. The choices he made in his career were shaped not by what would advance him furthest, but by what was best for Gina, Kayla, and Andrew. He put his family first. And that quiet, steady commitment to the people God had given him was just as much a part of his faith as anything else he did.
He loved God. Gina told me—and I can attest—that he was always wanting to serve, to lead Bible studies, to do whatever he could for the kingdom. Church wasn’t just where Dan went on Sabbath. Gina described it as his hobby. His faith wasn’t something separate from his engineering mind. They were woven together. His curiosity about space, his love of discovery, his desire to understand how things worked—all of it was an expression of loving God and wanting to know Him better. Because Psalm 19 is true. The heavens declare—they speak of His glory. And Dan was listening.
But there was another dimension to Dan that those who knew him well understood. Dan cared deeply about people. When he saw someone mistreated or treated unfairly, it bothered him. Justice wasn’t just an abstract principle to him—it was personal. And it turns out, that’s exactly the heart of God. Listen to these words from Psalm 37:
“For the LORD loves justice, and does not forsake His saints; they are preserved forever. The righteous shall inherit the land, and dwell in it forever. The mouth of the righteous speaks wisdom, and his tongue talks of justice. The law of his God is in his heart; none of his steps shall slide.”
— Psalm 37:28–31
That was Dan. A man whose steps didn’t slide—because the law of God was written deep in his heart. A man who loved what God loves, including the people God loves.
Right now we are in the waiting time. We are waiting for the Lord to return.
“For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever.”
— 1 Thessalonians 4:16–17
Caught up in the clouds. Traveling through space toward heaven. Can you imagine Dan in that moment? He will wake up from his nap, and be reunited with Gina en route to the Heavenly City—they will experience space travel together with all of God’s children.
I can almost picture it. Gina and Dan, traveling on that cloud, surrounded by family and friends, moving toward the city of God. Dan motions to an angel and asks, “What’s our current speed of travel? I’d love to calculate our trajectory and our estimated time of arrival based on the distance to our destination!” Not because he has to—but because that’s how God created his mind, and he loves it.
Or perhaps a million years from now he and Gina decide to take a tour through the universe. Dan sits down with paper and pen to plan the trip. I can just picture Gina saying, “Come on, Dan—let’s go!” And Dan saying, “Wait, Gina—I’ve almost got this figured out. Just one more calculation.” And Gina smiles and says, “Dan, come on. Let’s just go. Let’s just enjoy this.”
But Dan can’t help himself. His engineering mind is still working, still exploring, still trying to understand the magnificent creation that God has made. And you know what? That’s okay. Because in eternity, there will be no end to discovery. No end to understanding God’s greatness. The universe will still declare His glory. And Dan will revel in the beauty and complexity of it all.
“He stretches out the north over empty space; He hangs the earth on nothing.”
— Job 26:7
God doesn’t need pillars or supports. He doesn’t need anything to hold creation in place. He simply speaks it into being and sustains it by His power. That’s the God Dan served. That’s the God Dan will see face to face.
So as we remember Dan today, we remember a man who spent his life doing two things: he explored the greatness of God through engineering and discovery, and he served God with everything he had. He loved his family, his church, and his work—in that order. He got his priorities right. God first. Family second. Then Church. Then Work. And he lived it out faithfully every day.
One day soon, Dan will meet God face to face—the God whose handiwork he studied for so many years. He will travel through the very heavens he loved, moving toward a home more magnificent than any engineer could ever design.
And we will be with him. We will be caught up in those clouds. We will travel through space toward heaven.
And we’ll all be home—together—with Jesus.
And we will understand, at last, just how great our God really is.
“Behold, I shew you a mystery; We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed.”
— 1 Corinthians 15:51–52
Even so, come, Lord Jesus.