Sila Miller
My first memory of Don is when he worked for Big Bend Transit. He and I just picked up like we’d known each other all our lives. He was always passionate about a cause and could and would talk your head off about it. One morning I was standing at a bus stop near my home waiting on a city bus. As I watched in disbelief, the bus passed me by, going the wrong way. Needless to say, I was frustrated at missing the bus—another 40-minute wait for the next one and I’d never make my appointment now. All of a sudden, I heard my name being called. Who else was it but Don! He said he’d seen it all, and insisted he’d take me to wherever I needed to go and absolutely wouldn’t take no for an answer. The last time we spoke, he was laughing about some of our shared memories and regaling me with tales of his rehabilitation. He indeed leaves a void and this world is better for having him as a part of it. Rest easy, my friend!
