Contributions to the tribute of Donald George Bennett Jr.

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Mary Ellen Bennett posted a symbolic gesture

Wednesday, May 20, 2020

Dear Don: I miss you. You slipped away from me. I should have held on tighter. I feel like Adam living in the Garden after having named all the animals. There he found no match. I'm walking around without a match--searching for you. I have yet to let you go. I love you. I thought you were stronger and that's why you left. I know now you simply gave up. I wish I hadn't given up. I love you. For Always, Mary Ellen

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Mary Ellen Bennett uploaded photo(s)

Monday, December 9, 2019

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Mary Ellen Bennett posted a symbolic gesture

Monday, December 9, 2019

Don loved our house at Christmas. He took this photo and many others each year. I miss having a reason to decorate. I miss always having music in the house! I'm glad you enjoyed the magic, Don! May you be enjoying His peace now and forever! I love you.

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Mary Ellen Bennett posted a symbolic gesture

Wednesday, November 13, 2019

I miss you.

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Mary Ellen Bennett lit a candle

Tuesday, October 8, 2019

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Bruce Gillespie posted a condolence

Friday, May 17, 2019

I work with Don many years at Verizon - he was a wonderful friend. He will be missed by many from his Verizon family. - Bruce

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The family of Donald George Bennett Jr. uploaded a photo

Sunday, March 17, 2019

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Tom Lawler posted a condolence

Sunday, March 17, 2019

Don and I 1st met in 9th grade in Louie Shregan's Algebra class at Charles Boehm Middle School. I didn't remember this, Don brought this up a while ago. He always had a good memory for details. It was Don that showed me how to punt a football, he could kick it with a spiral like a quarterback throwing a pass. Also good in math, he challenged me to excel in Mr Shregan's class in addition to inventing distractions, like pencil-manship motoring. Using pencils to act like cars on the desktop map that he had drawn. Guess that's where we learned the rules of the road. Later in life, we both bought Porche 914's to race around, never did wreck although plenty of opportunities, guess our algebra days helped somehow. As we hung out, we learned to ski at Bell Mountain in NJ. It wasn't really a mountain, just a hill with a rope tow to get you to the top. We skied at night making numerous 30 second runs down the hill all the while burning holes in our gloves grabbing the rope tow. We continued to ski, making trips to Elk Mountain and Hunter Mountain (4 hr drive each way just to ski the day). Don was a great skier and loved his Rosemount ski boots and army jump suit, quite the striking figure. These were the days of Billy Kid and Suzy Chaffee (or Chapstick as well called her). Our adventures went further and we discovered Vermont and New Hampshire, big mountains by comparison. Our journey culminated when we flew out to Utah one winter to ski Alta and Snowbird mountains. We stayed in a hostel to save money but went big and ordered an avocado appetizer at the expensive lodge, a 1st for me. Didn't know that you ate the leaves too, Don did. Turns out, I decided to move West and went to Colorado to follow my ski dreams leaving Don behind. He did come out to be in my wedding in 1981, glad he was there. We kept in touch over the years but our families and careers limited our time. I last saw Don In November last year. He came to Maryland to visit at my boyhood vacation home Teal Point. It's on the Cabin John Creek at the north end of the Chesapeake Bay. Don loved this area, he once lived down there close by. It was the end of autumn but we had nice weather, colorful days. Don took a bunch of pictures as we hiked and boated around, he always had the artistic eye and great composition. We spent meals together reminiscing and having some laughs. The time was brief but I will always hold close. I will miss him.

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Mary Ellen Bennett posted a condolence

Monday, March 11, 2019

Thank you to everyone who has posted something on this site. It has meant so much to me for Don's life to be recognized by those who knew him. I want to add that most people may be surprised to know that Don's favorite movie was "Singing in the Rain". He loved tap dancing! It is such a happy art form, I believe he probably liked it because it made him feel happy just watching. He showed me how Fred Astaire looked like he was dancing up the walls and on the ceiling in Royal Wedding and we watched a you-tube of the process. Don exposed me to many new tidbits of information, and I miss sitting next to him on the couch as we watched movies, listened to a song, or watched something interesting he found on the computer. He also loved the Marx Brothers so we spent some nights watching them as I listened to Don laugh. These ways of being together didn't seem like much at the time, but they were more significant than I knew. Don told me he missed them too after he moved to Vermont.

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Jonathan Toner posted a condolence

Friday, March 8, 2019

I often think of Don because he gave me several gifts that I've used extensively for over 10 years now. One gift is a leatherman knife, which has now gone on countless adventures all over the world. I still use it regularly on trips. Don had a real appreciation for fine work, someone's need, and the appropriateness of a gift. Another gift was a leather computer case. I think I was an undergraduate and he must have noticed that I never had a way of carrying my computer, so one day he just throws this case of the bed and says it is mine. I use it all the time now, and probably will for as long as it lasts, which is looking to be until I'm dead of old age. Again, a testament to his appreciation for finer, well-made things. Finally, when we wanted to invest in a good speaker system, who better to ask than Don? He recommended a place, we talked about various options, and we now have a great system that will last forever. We probably do not use it to half the potential that Don would have. I'll always think of Don for his generous gifts and good taste.

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Elizabeth Ortlip posted a condolence

Tuesday, March 5, 2019

Don was a many layered person that made it hard to get to know him. You could tell there was a depth of soul and an extraordinary struggle in his inner depths. Perhaps that is where the expression of his art and the passion he had for music came from. But every once in a while there were times you'd see that light in his eyes when you or someone else said or did something that resonated with him and the inner expression found its way to the outside world. In those moments the sun blazed in a rain storm. They were rare but memorable. One memory that stands out to me. Is the year we celebrated Christmas at Michael and Linda's house. Mary Ellen and Don were not married long. We were all unwrapping gifts and Michael had given me some funny gifts. One was a plaster of paris chicken. I thought it was funny and still have it to this day. I thought it would make a great pencil holder if holes were drilled into it. Don graciously volunteered to make those holes and did a great job. He was newly in the family, did not really know any of us and yet when he reached out in that way to me when he did not have to it had significance. I know he did not do it to make a good impression he did it because he wanted to and I doubt he ever really knew how much that act of kindness meant to me. Whenever I look at the pencils and pens sticking out of that goofy chicken I think of him and my brother. It was a small act of kindness that went a long way and made a funny unpractical gift useful. Don particularly enjoyed jazz. Now jazz seems discordant to me but he heard it as a symphony. This influenced me try to listen a little harder when I heard jazz music played elsewhere. I still don't like it much but I have a greater appreciation for it trying to hear it through his ears. Another memory that stands out to me is he shared with me the time his son Ian did the sound track to the movie I think it was The Oranges. The movie hadn't come out yet. But he was showing me clips. Though he didn't show a lot of emotion I could tell he was proud of the work done by his son. Very few of us reach any greatness or fame and we all seek significance in some way. It is the small moments we share with a person that builds a bridge of a memory into another's heart and influences another's life even after they are gone. My heart is sorrowful at Don's passing. It is never easy to say goodbye to a part of your family.

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Lisa Toner posted a condolence

Tuesday, February 19, 2019

My favorite memory shared with Don was when we went whale watching in the San Juan Islands on a sparkling Pacific Northwest summer afternoon. We saw beautiful orcas playing and he took many photos. What a beautiful day!

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On behalf of Family posted a condolence

Monday, February 18, 2019

https://youtu.be/oxHnRfhDmrk Don McClean: Vincent A family member sent this to me in rememberance of Don as it relates to him as an artist.

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Lynette & Michael Thomas posted a condolence

Monday, February 18, 2019

Words cannot express how we are feeling Don is going to be missed he was an incredible talented quite spirited kind of guy. So many memories I have of him Don loved his phone he researched everything by the end of your conversation that was always funny to me. We often had long conversations about everything from Jazz,art,cooking you name it we spoke about it. Don was a good listener, he paid attention to detail, even if you didn't think he was listening he was. Don was a really great cook, he could cook anything from eggs to gourmet Chinese food, he chose his wines carefully to go along with whatever he was making we are going to miss that. Don we are going to miss you dearly my friend rest easy Michael & Lynette.

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Lynette & Michael Thomas posted a condolence

Monday, February 18, 2019

Words cannot express how we are feeling Don is going to be missed he was an incredible talented quite spirited kind of guy. So many memories I have of him Don loved his phone he researched everything by the end of your conversation that was always funny to me. We often had long conversations about everything from Jazz,art,cooking you name it we spoke about it. Don was a good listener he payed attention to detail even if you didn't think he was listening he was...We are going to miss his smile and his quite spirit Rest now Don.

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Lynette & Michael Thomas posted a symbolic gesture

Monday, February 18, 2019

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Michelle Ketchum posted a condolence

Saturday, February 16, 2019

Don was very playful with young children. I saw a side to him I hadn't seen before when I watched him play with my twin daughters of 4 years. They gravitated towards him because of his playfulness and would ask to talk to him on the phone, having happy memories of their time with him. I will remember this about him.

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Judith Gail Lindenberger posted a condolence

Saturday, February 16, 2019

I am so sorry. We always enjoyed having Don come to our Derby parties. His quiet presence will be missed.

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Monica Toner uploaded photo(s)

Friday, February 15, 2019

He really loved his house, you can see it on his face.

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Monica Toner uploaded photo(s)

Friday, February 15, 2019

Why Spider-Man? Maybe it was his way of connecting with my older son, this was taken at his birthday party years ago.

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Monica Toner uploaded photo(s)

Friday, February 15, 2019

Despite his ongoing battle with a depression he always was very cooperative with outings and was genuinely happy spend time with my boys.

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Monica Toner uploaded photo(s)

Friday, February 15, 2019

The night of the choral concert from my shared memory. He really enjoyed the music and of course the presence of his grandson.

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Monica Toner posted a condolence

Friday, February 15, 2019

Don was a bit of a mystery and when he first became my stepfather I didn’t much allow for opportunity to try to delve into who he was at first. I came to appreciate him as a calm and steady presence. It sort of became interesting to see parts of who he was peek through at unexpected moments of connection. Walking in to his specialized music tastes or odd English comedies playing, seeing his face light up when some memory crossed his mind, laughing at his wit and sarcasm. At times of great distress, for which he was present for many of in my life, he always had some beautifully poetic but somewhat mysterious condolences to offer, like you weren’t 100% certain of what he was really trying to say, but it was enough to know he really cared and it eluded to the depth of his thoughts. He was a true artist at heart, he saw the world and everything around him differently, he heard sounds differently, he noticed the little things. It surprised me how helpful he was to me when I truly felt stuck. I’m raising two special needs boys on my own and there was a few years where I was desperately trying to escape the doom of low income living as a single parent and I needed to focus on my job. My son was just being diagnosed with Crohn’s disease and was frequently sick. I can’t even count the number of times I called him in a panic, stuck at work an hour away and my boy needing someone to get him from school or to keep him home due to illness. Don never turned me down, even if he had his own things going on, he rearranged his day to be there and to deal with that in my place so that I could work on making a viable future for my family. He was especially close to my other son, they connected on that “I’m a unique guy” kind of level. My boy’s face lit up for Grandpop at the thought of spending the day with him. He really took the time to patiently answer all of his curious questions (the boy can exhaust the day with those!). He really shared in his interests and would spend hours on hours reading with him or researching interesting subjects or just sitting close watching old black and white movies or taking naps. I had a few of my own special moments with him. Once as a reckless teenager, mumbling in a hospital bed with alcohol poisoning, I devulged with passion my feelings for my later children’s father as he listened and rubbed my feet (I was ashamed and alone as he stood by, keeping watch). Again more recently, we had a long snowy car ride to a choral concert for my mom (I really thought it was sweet and thoughtful that even through their divorce he still came to visit and wanted to show up to things like that) and we just chatted about what he liked about Vermont and how beautiful it is in winter there. I just remember thinking, “that was such a pleasant ride and talk, I’m sad he doesn’t live here anymore”. He wanted us to try and visit in the summer to see his town and his place, we never did make it there... It really breaks my heart that we are missing what was once there and now is not. The people who enter our personal space are special and important and there are some people who are able to enter a space that is deeply personal just by living in all the things that are beneath the surface. We are all broken in some way, some more than others, all in different ways. No matter, all require love and acceptance. I will always wish that I tried to know him better, to reach deeper, to ask more questions, listen more, hug more and offer more. I’m still hoping to see him again someday, embrace him, and tell him, I’m sorry I didn’t understand then, but I do now, and you are loved.

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Monica Toner posted a condolence

Friday, February 15, 2019

Don was a bit of a mystery and when he first became my stepfather I didn’t much allow for opportunity to try to delve into who he was at first. I came to appreciate him as a calm and steady presence. It sort of became interesting to see parts of who he was peek through at unexpected moments of connection. Walking in to his specialized music tastes or odd English comedies playing, seeing his face light up when some memory crossed his mind, laughing at his wit and sarcasm. At times of great distress, for which he was present for many of in my life, he always had some beautifully poetic but somewhat mysterious condolences to offer, like you weren’t 100% certain of what he was really trying to say, but it was enough to know he really cared and it eluded to the depth of his thoughts. He was a true artist at heart, he saw the world and everything around him differently, he heard sounds differently, he noticed the little things. It surprised me how helpful he was to me when I truly felt stuck. I’m raising two special needs boys on my own and there was a few years where I was desperately trying to escape the doom of low income living as a single parent and I needed to focus on my job. My son was just being diagnosed with Crohn’s disease and was frequently sick. I can’t even count the number of times I called him in a panic, stuck at work an hour away and my boy needing someone to get him from school or to keep him home due to illness. Don never turned me down, even if he had his own things going on, he rearranged his day to be there and to deal with that in my place so that I could work on making a viable future for my family. He was especially close to my other son, they connected on that “I’m a unique guy” kind of level. My boy’s face lit up for Grandpop at the thought of spending the day with him. He really took the time to patiently answer all of his curious questions (the boy can exhaust the day with those!). He really shared in his interests and would spend hours on hours reading with him or researching interesting subjects or just sitting close watching old black and white movies or taking naps. I had a few of my own special moments with him. Once as a reckless teenager, mumbling in a hospital bed with alcohol poisoning, I devulged with passion my feelings for my later children’s father as he listened and rubbed my feet (I was ashamed and alone as he stood by, keeping watch). Again more recently, we had a long snowy car ride to a choral concert for my mom (I really thought it was sweet and thoughtful that even through their divorce he still came to visit and wanted to show up to things like that) and we just chatted about what he liked about Vermont and how beautiful it is in winter there. I just remember thinking, “that was such a pleasant ride and talk, I’m sad he doesn’t live here anymore”. He wanted us to try and visit in the summer to see his town and his place, we never did make it there... It really breaks my heart that we are missing what was once there and now is not. The people who enter our personal space are special and important and there are some people who are able to enter a space that is deeply personal just by living in all the things that are beneath the surface. We are all broken in some way, some more than others, all in different ways. No matter, all require love and acceptance. I will always wish that I tried to know him better, to reach deeper, to ask more questions, listen more, hug more and offer more. I’m still hoping to see him again someday, embrace him, and tell him, I’m sorry I didn’t understand then, but I do now, and you are loved.

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Mary Ellen Bennett posted a condolence

Friday, February 15, 2019

Don was an artist, a woodworker, a poet. He tended to be awkward and shy around people. He felt anxious around others if he was forced to socialize for too long. He would listen to the conversations and find ways to interject by looking up videos, songs, etc. that were relevant to the topic. Don was very proud of his children. He often talked about how smart and talented they were. He was happy that those children who had found partners had made good matches. He did not look for venues to display his artwork. When asked what he wanted to do with it, he said he was leaving a body of work for his family. He had a talent for finding good gifts. He surfed the internet for gifts and also loved to go to thrift stores. The last gift he gave to me came from a thrift store. He found a small metal tray with a picture of the Eiffel Tower on it. He remembered I had wished I had gotten one when I was in Paris. He was excited with his find and I was thrilled with it. Don loved his extended family who had already passed on. He talked about his dead Uncles and Aunts, his Grandfathers and Grandmothers with great tenderness and fond memories. Their memory could bring him to the verge of tears. He was a devoted son and visited his parents in their old age and transported his father to doctor's appointments as he was being treated for cancer. It was not always easy for Don to be around people, but he rose to the occasion when called upon to give of his time to parents, children, and grandchildren. He fought bravely to overcome his chronic depression. I cherish the memories of all the times he won battles, even if he lost the war. I love you, Don. You are free of all burdens and brokenness. I know you were trying so hard. I wish I would have understood better but I think I would have had to been superhuman. I miss you.

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Mary Ellen Bennett lit a candle

Friday, February 15, 2019

Donald George Bennett Jr.

1954 - 2018

Plant a tree in memory of Donald