A Tribute to Doonie

This Sunday will mark 7 years since my dad Doonie passed away. He accomplished much in his life without making a lot of money. He spent all of his professional life in the DC area as a teacher and high school football coach. During this period he served as a mentor for many young men and women in this area. He was well-known for being the coach of some great high school football teams in the 60s and 70s. Those of you that know him know that he was so much more. It is only fitting that this week’s Words are about him, as he was in the inspiration for so many of my stories. My hope is this will help you to know him and the person he was.

Everywhere we would go, someone would know my father. He was the guy with the three-dimpled smile and a way of making you feel like you were the most important person on earth. The thing I remember most about him was his zest for life, upbeat nature, and the way he listened.

As a kid growing up in the DC area, I had powerful role models all around me. Morgan Wootten, the National Basketball Hall of Famer, was my godfather. Jack McShea, the hugely successful businessman, was my uncle. The legendary St. John’s Basketball coach Joe Gallagher was a great friend and mentor for my dad and I.

The list could go on and on. But my most important role model lived under the same roof I did. My dad, David “Doonie” Waldron, was everything as a father and a role model that any kid could ever hope for. I will give you some examples:

I was midway through my freshman football season at Virginia Tech when I got the devastating news that my girl back home was leaving me for one of my good friends. My father, who was in the middle of his own football season at St. John’s, jumped on a plane and flew to Blacksburg to spend some time with me. You can imagine how much it meant to have him there. As we went to dinner and walked around campus he listened and listened to me as I spilled my guts.

  “If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, or walk with kings – nor lose the common touch; Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it, and – which is more – you’ll be a Man my son!”
-“If” by Rudyard Kipling

Dad was the manager of the St. John’s Tennis Club, located in NW Washington during the summer. One day a high-ranking political figure refused to pay the guest fee required to play. My father promptly escorted him off the premises. In his world, everyone was treated equally.

  “Never think you are better than anyone else, and never think they are better than you.”
-John Wooden

Late in my father’s life he attended the funeral of a longtime friend’s son, who was killed in a drive-by shooting in SE DC. He went with another friend who was a Christian Brother. Brother Allen later told me how nervous he was about going to this church in SE Washington. He said his mind was put to rest when he saw my father walk right to the front and embrace his friend. Everyone came together as one and mourned the passing of this young man.

“You can’t live a perfect day until you do something for someone who will never be able to repay you.”
-John Wooden

An old friend of my dad’s came to him broke, estranged from his family, and feeling ill. My dad took off from work for three days to help this friend go through a series of tests that ended in a diagnosis of cancer. He spent most of the time listening to his wayward friend until he got back on his feet with the proper medicines. His friend later reconciled with his family and lived another 9 years, long enough to see his son named the head football coach of a local university.

On the night that my father was diagnosed with leukemia, our family had an impromptu “circle the wagons” get-together at my parent’s house to show our support. As we were meeting, a phone call came, and Dad (as usual) insisted on taking it. He was very up-beat and animated in the conversation. I later asked who could possibly have changed the mood of the night so much. He said it was an African-American young man he taught, who was now married, in his mid-30s, with three kids, and working in Atlanta, GA. The former student told Dad about a big promotion he had just received. He said he always considered Dad the father he never had, and wanted to share the big news with him.

I hope that these brief glimpses into my father’s life will help you get to know what and who he was.

My father passed away on December 16^th, 2005. On the day of my dad’s wakes (they held two separate wakes to accommodate the crowds), people came in droves to pay their respects to the man they all knew as “Doonie.” They were from all walks of life, young and old. The “Doon” stories, much like the ones recounted above, were flowing that day. With each heart-warming story, more pain came my way. The mighty Doonie Waldron would not be there for me anymore.

Days later I checked my voicemail on my office phone. There was one from Dave Palank, the top broker at our competitor’s office. God, I hate that guy. All kidding aside, I consider Dave one of my closest friends in the industry. He and I were working on a deal together, and I had left him a voicemail earlier in the week telling him about my father’s passing and that I would not be available for our scheduled meeting.

Dave, who was a student of my father’s at St. John’s, left this voicemail: “Ro, I’ve been thinking about what to say to you all weekend. No one loved your dad more than me. He was the greatest, and I know how down you must be. But my dad died when I was 8 years old. I would give anything to be in your shoes today.”

Kind of puts it in perspective, doesn’t it? From that point on I became increasingly grateful for the 48 years I had with the Doon as my dad. And how rich those years were.

A few closing thoughts:

A common theme in these stories was that the Doon always showed up and he always listened. Money was not what drove him, although he took great pride in the fact that all five of his children had gone to college and were very successful financially. In his world family was the thing that mattered most, along with helping the students and athletes he taught and coached to become better people.

I close with a quote from Wayne Gretzky, the greatest hockey player of all time, on the eve of his retirement from the game. He was asked who his heroes were, who he looked up to the most as a kid. Onlookers seemed surprised at his answer as they expected his hero to be a pro hockey player. It was not.

Wayne answered without hesitating, “My father. He was the greatest hero of my life and that any kid could ever hope for.”

He said his father wasn’t just a hero to him but a hero to all the kids in his neighborhood and his town. He was always there for the games and to listen to anyone when they had a problem. Wayne also said, “My father never made more than $35,000 a year.”

To those of you still lucky enough to have a dad in your life, tell him you love him.

Dad, I love you and miss you every day.

Have a great weekend,
Ro