Our son, Donald—or Don, as most of you knew him—was born in Detroit, Michigan, on February 12, 1969. At the time, his soldier-Dad was stationed in South Korea for 13 months. Dad and son would not meet until Don was 11 months old.

Dad returned home in January 1970. This began a whirlwind of family and military moves. Don had to adjust to his Dad, and Dad had to adjust to parenting a son who was crawling, discovering, and deciding everything on the floor was his — including Dad's Army boot strings. yum!

Life was wonderful. When Dad came home, Don toddled to him every day with cheery glee, but from the highchair threw those nasty green peas on the floor — to the consternation of his mother. Through the years, Don and Dad developed a lasting closeness that would continue throughout his life.

For the sake of brevity, we’ll jump ahead here...ending this young childhood at Fort Ord, California. Don was now 15. For the next two years, Don and Dad drove all over California so he could compete in bicycle motocross, or BMX, races. Don rode a Redline first and later a Mongoose bike, both lightweight aluminum bikes. He won many trophies, ending this stage of his life with the number 2 plate in the state on his bike.

By his senior year of high school, Don got the keys to his first car—a 1967 GTO. He loved that gas-guzzling "Goat," and it made his final year of school unforgettable. Don had wheels and his senior year came alive!

As graduation approached, Don set his sights on a new dream: the University of Alabama. The road to Tuscaloosa was paved with final exams at school, the dreaded SATs, letters of recommendation, and a required admissions essay. Don, the oldest of five children, decided to grab the admissions officer's attention with a unique, bold opening line: "My parents need to stop having babies!"

Don graduated in 1987 from Seaside High School in Seaside, California. And the waiting began....

The essay gamble paid off. In August 1987, the letter from U of A arrived. He'd been accepted.

College life in Tuscaloosa proved more challenging than Don had expected. To support himself in the dorms, he began waiting tables on a friend's suggestion. But, those dorms had to go.

Between 1988 and 1991, Don balanced work and classes from his first apartment, unknowingly laying the foundation for his future career. While he attended the University for about two years, that job sparked a lifelong passion.

By then, Don also had a girlfriend from Huntsville. Never one for long-distance relationships, he followed her when she decided to return home. He'd put U of A behind him along with the GTO.

In Huntsville, he landed a position with an upscale restaurant -- the Fogcutter. But on December 31, 2003, it closed down permanently. Don's experience there refined his serving skills and developed his expertise in fine-dining service and guest relations. Those years established his polished, attentive approach to service—qualities that became part of who he was.

Don's next position was at Porter's Steakhouse, a signature restaurant at the Huntsville Marriott Space & Rocket Center. As a restaurant supervisor, he continued to provide and hone his skills in the upscale dining experience for hotel guests, business travelers, and locals alike.

On September 26, 2007, Don reached another milestone in life and signed the mortgage on his own home in Huntsville.

He eventually brought his talents to Ruth's Chris, where he spent the next two decades. He served as a banquet captain now. Through study, experience, and a genuine interest in the subject, Don developed an extensive knowledge of wine and became the restaurant’s de facto sommelier. His expertise made his service highly specialized and him an invaluable asset to both guests and staff. According to his coworkers, Don possessed a natural charm that earned him a devoted following among civilians and military guests alike; they remember how guests would specifically request him, returning time and again not just for the meal, but for Don’s company. He just had a way with people.

He trained new staff and even performed building maintenance whenever it was needed. He remained a dedicated member of the restaurant family, leaving behind a legacy of professionalism, friendship, warmth, and expertise.

Don also had strong opinions about where things belonged. At one restaurant—I don’t remember which one—he needed an ice-cream scoop during his shift. Several times, it disappeared from the place where he had left it. Frustrated that he constantly had to hunt for it, Don finally hid the scoop himself.

In Don’s mind, things belonged where they belonged—and that was that.

Don’s brain cancer eventually forced him to retire, but it never took away the warmth, humor, and kindness he shared with others. Although he was living with glioblastoma, Don’s death following a cardiac arrest was unexpected and devastating. Suddenly, all the years we had shared seemed both precious and far too short.

Outside of work, Don was a friendly competitor. He enjoyed riding his bike, playing golf, poker, and billiards. Even near the end, he continued playing poker with his friends—although he could no longer see the cards.

Don loved cats. Before they passed, he had Buddy, Smudge, and Marley.

He was fascinated by Egyptology, and I often wondered why he never made it to Egypt. He also loved tinkering with cars. One of his ambitions was to own a Tesla. He never got that far, but he did own another dream car: a Grand National.

Don loved clothes, too. His closets and dressers were literally stuffed with apparel. He enjoyed browsing eBay, but nothing compared with his love of video games and the weekly gatherings held in his projection room.

The words people have used to describe Don are independent, innovative, intellectually curious, team-oriented but unconventional, stubborn about his principles, kind, and selfless. He disliked being micromanaged and resisted rules or routines that seemed pointless. He would do anything for anyone—and be happy doing it.

Most of all, he was memorable.

Don lived life on his own terms, touched countless people along the way, and will be remembered with love by everyone fortunate enough to have known him.

Don, you live on with me, with your spirit in my soul and in my memories. I hope you are with your beloved sister now. I know grief never truly ends, but it changes. It is the price we pay for love.

To all of you - thank you for being here to honor our son. I hope the memories we have of Don will bring us peace and comfort and keep his spirit with us always.

Visitation will be held on Saturday, October 3, 2026, at Berryhill Funeral Home, from 1:00 to 2:00 pm. The funeral service will follow in the chapel at 2:00 pm.

Berryhill Funeral Home is assisting the family.