Iran, 1967
To post any stories, memories or poems that you would like to share about Doug please scroll to the bottom of the Memories and write in the Comment section under Leave a Reply. Thank you!
Here is a poem from our family friend, Roger Wehling. Doug always enjoyed Roger’s poems: Temporal Dance
Doug worked extensively with the Michigan Association for Infant Mental Health. Please click on this link to read their tribute to Doug: MI-AIMH rememberance
My dad’s eyes always showed when he had stepped out from the present moment and slipped into his interior thoughts– maybe if you could find the distant point where his eyes were focusing you might be able to travel there as well. One morning, when I was about ten years old, he was making eggs for Aaron and me in our kitchen on Jones Drive. He was distracted by some thought, and in cracking the egg, he missed the bowl. The egg fell to the counter, which apparently was not flat, because the egg slid right off the edge. This detour of the egg was enough to call my dad back to the present moment, but the egg was unfortunately traveling faster than my dad was able to book a return trip from his interior world. The egg found his foot below and sunk into the spaces between his toes. We all thought this was hilarious. I think we got a fresh egg.
Your father was by far one of my dearest, most respected professor at SSW! Prof. Davies have always been generous with his time and never hesitated to go above and beyond his duty to ensure his students understood the materials. I remembered him willing to meet me at a Starbucks near campus just so I can get more information before an exam. He will be sorely missed!
My deepest condolences to you and your loved ones! I’m honored to cross path with such a wonderful, kind individual.
What a great visual memory, Justin. I really felt like I could see this situation unfold. I knew that distant stare well and often wondered about what fascinating place he must have gone for those undistracted moments….
Dear Toby & Family, Please accept my sympathy for your loss. I really appreciate the loving, honest, sincere thoughtfulness that each of you brought to all of your work in A2. Doug’s gift to child development will live on in the work of all the students and professionals that he touched. Peace be with you. Love, Paquetta
How does one write simple words to describe a human being who was so remarkable. It almost seems trivial in comparison to who Papa was and the life he led with intention. I’ve never before been in such great awe of a human as I was Papa. His love and contribution to this world was immeasurable.
The love in his eyes, that deep care and constant willingness to be a pillar for his children and their families is beyond inspiring.
For almost 16 years I’ve had the pleasure of watching Papa walk in the Lane-Davies door with pies, tools, kind encouraging words, support, hugs, kids, food, plans, ideas, a helping hand, a book and the list goes on and on. The abundance of time and heart he had for those he knew and loved always struck me as beyond inspiring.
Unconditional love emanated from his soul.
My friendship with Aaron and Elizabeth gave me a window to observe the gift Doug gave each of them on a daily basis. A father and best friend, a father- in- law who broke the mold, a Papa who adored and supported his grandchildren in every aspect of their lives. I watched from the sidelines and admired the beauty of true love. Your family has been a great teacher and has impacted me as a parent. He was a shining star. His flame will continue to burn bright in those he touched.
I am so sad and sorry for your broken hearts.
He was one of the best ones.
Love and light,
Joy
I was Tobi’s roommate at Carleton College for three years in the 60s, and we have been close friends ever since. She came to visit me when I was living in Illinois after my daughter was born in 1979, and she told me stories about this wonderful guy she had met. I remember first seeing Doug in a photo of Tobi’s. He did indeed sound almost too good to be true: intelligent, fun, thoughtful, two wonderful sons, dedicated to children’s welfare. Tobi also had created a rewarding work life for herself. Hearing about the happy developments in her life, I realized that mine — although ok — could be improved. I made some changes for better, for which I credit Tobi and Doug and the example they set for me.
I knew Doug socially, as a friend. He was a wonderful friend. He had such a light touch, especially when he was making fun — the gentlest fun — of you. He could say something to you wide-eyed, in mock seriousness, that his laughter would take away a second later. I loved that. And he called me by my college-age name, Marty, because that’s what Tobi calls me. That small intimacy and the easy rapport I felt immediately upon meeting him made it seem like I had known him for as long as I have known Tobi. I will miss him very much.
I first became aware of Dough through my desperation to find literature on mental health counseling with very young children, when I became a therapist in 2002. I found his book and made it my bible. I have referred to it often over the years and have cited and recommended it numerous times. I often wondered about what he might be like as read and I re-read the chapters.
When I learned that he was conducting a Reflective Supervision group in Alaska, I jumped at the chance to be a member. I was so honored to finally meet him last November. I was awed by his non-assuming presence. He had an uncanny ability to narrow down a case to its essence, thereby allowing us to learn from his modeling. I secretly hoped that one day I would be able to replicate his gift.
We had a meeting with him just the day before he passed and as he helped me understand a case, I thought “this man is amazing and I am so humbled to receive his guidance.” In fact, this morning I was speaking with a foster parent and thought of the many words of wisdom from Doug. He was right there with me, guiding me as always. I found the words for this parent because of what I learned from Doug. I will keep his memory alive by honoring what he has taught me and so many others.
A Bridge in the Middle of Nowhere
It was early July in the summer of 1998, and the Hanna family had gathered in Colorado for my sister Lucy’s 50th birthday. Doug and Tobi were there along with the rest of us enjoying the delights of the Buena Vista region, which included a ghost town, white water rafting, and hot springs.
Five of us, including Doug, my brother Jonathan, my cousin Ian, his son Ian and I decided to climb one of the nearby 14,000 foot peaks. The nearby range is called the ‘Collegiate Peaks’, and the mountains have names such as Mount Princeton, Mount Yale and Mount Harvard. We decided to climb Mount Yale because it seemed like a reasonable goal. A seven mile hike from trailhead to summit and slightly over 4,300 feet of elevation gain, with the same distance on the way down.
We started out at Cottonwood Pass, which is at about 9,900 feet. Doug was the most experienced of us at high elevation hiking, so he was the one handling the map and compass. The trail rose easily for the first few miles winding through aspen groves and stands of ponderosa pine. After a couple of miles and at around 11,000 feet elevation, we began to break out of the tree line. The trail entered an alpine meadow that was dotted with stands of trees and ended at a snowfield. Beyond the snowfield we could see the vast rock and snow peak of Mount Yale. Before we ventured across the meadow, we had to cross a 20 foot wide stream of rushing snowfield meltwater.
The trail crossed the stream via an old fashioned woodsman’s bridge. It was essentially two logs laid side by side across the gulch created by the stream. The idea is that a single log is unstable and will roll when you try to cross it, but two side by side logs will be stable. The bridge in front of us was in almost complete disrepair. Only one of the logs made it all the way across the gulch, the other had fallen into the gulch at the near end and angled up to the top of the bank at the far end. We crossed the unstable bridge by taking turns quickly scampering across the log as it bounced and rolled under our feet. All five of us made it without falling.
A little farther up the trail, Jonathan decided that he’d gone as far as he wanted. He and Doug were in their mid-fifties at the time, and both had a few more ounces of wisdom than the rest of us. Doug, the two Ians and I continued up the trail while Jonathan took the opportunity to rest in the shade.
After we crossed the snowfield (at about 12,000 feet elevation), the trail turned into an endless series of switchbacks that climbed up a scree slope to a Col at about 13,400 feet. The two Ians, being from El Paso were more accustomed to elevation, steamed on up the scree slope. Doug told me he was going to take it slow and encouraged me to hike at my normal pace.
I plodded up the endless switchbacks, soon losing sight of the two Ians ahead of me. At every left turn I’d take a drink of water and scan the slope below for Doug. His blue shirt stood out, and I could usually pick him out toiling along the switchbacks below me. By the time I reached the Col at 13,400 feet I’d lost sight of Doug. I scrambled up the ridge to the summit at 14,196 feet where the two Ians and I celebrated with a drink of water, a carrot and some dry bagels. We waited for Doug on the summit for a half hour then decided that we better head down as we had 7 miles of trail to retrace.
As the three of us descended we continually looked for Doug among the hikers still climbing up past us. I knew about where I’d last seen him and we didn’t find him there. We descended the switchbacks, crossed the snowfield and entered the alpine meadow. Still no Doug.
We found Doug and Jonathan at the stream just above tree line. For the past few hours the two of them had been repairing the dilapidated bridge. What a change. The two logs now spanned the stream side by side. The footings for the logs had been excavated by hand and shimmed, leveled and stabilized with rocks. That morning it had been a treacherous span, and now it was a safe and level bridge. The two Ians and I crossed it together without even changing our stride. The five of us headed on down the mountain and back to Buena Vista for some supper and a soak in the hot tub.
To me, the bridge in the middle of nowhere is a wonderful example of Doug’s character. He fixed that bridge as a simple act of service: Partly for the love of solving a problem and partly to serve the numerous hikers who would use that bridge in the future. He was in his element fixing that bridge: A beautiful spot on the edge of an alpine meadow and a rushing stream, a problem that needed a practical solution, and an opportunity to help people that he’d never meet.
Nick Hanna
I love you, Nick.
I didn’t know Doug well at all … in fact, all of my conversations with him were in passing. Usually, they took place just inside the red door of their home, as I tried to sneak in to deliver or retrieve some ISAAC material from the side table. Occasionally, he’d hear me and come over quickly for a pleasant, personal greeting. We’d have a little laugh, and then I’d go to my car, thinking …..”that Tobi ….. she sure married the perfect fellow!” What a fine match!
Dear family of Doug Davies,
We send you our deepest condolences. We were shocked and so saddened by this news. As a family, we have known Doug since his Peace Corps days in Iran when he lived with Mr. and Mrs. Refah- who truly consider Doug as a son. We are so grateful for the continued relationship– including just a few months back when he hosted and made a very special Persian dinner for Michael Radparvar and David Radparvar at his home, and shared stories of our family from many years ago. Thank you Doug, for the stories and pictures that you have shared with our family through the years and efforts you have made to stay connected.
May Doug rest in peace. May the memories we have of Doug give us strength at this very difficult time in your lives. Sending lots of love to the entire Davies and extended family, including Tobi Hanna-Davies, Aaron Lane-Davies, Justin Davies and Emily Bettencourt.
With much love,
Mr. and Mrs. Refah
Roohi and Mansoor Radparvar
Ramesh Cohen
Michael Radparvar
David Radparvar
To reiterate what my mom, Roohi mentioned above – my brother David and I were truly lucky to have been invited to a spectacular dinner that Doug prepared for us in Kalamazoo – I am not sure how long it took to prepare all the authentically cooked Persian dishes – but I am sure the 5 course meal was no small feat. Eventhough it had been some time since we last spent time together, I remember thinking right after we left how it felt we had spent an evening with our closest family.
Michael and David Radparvar
Thank you, Michael and David. It was a joyful evening for all of us.
This is the text from a very lovely drawing which Elly Rose drew for Nana Tobi in Michigan:
“Nana you are beautiful and your pesto that Papa made helps you feel good.” and adds “Papa says, “Nana, I love you. Love, Papa.”
Elly Rose, age 6
I would have been just few years old, the first time I met “Mr. Doug”, as my parents would call him :-)! In my young age for the period of time “Mr. Doug” lived in the upstairs unit of our home, I remember a gentle and kind man almost all the time with a camera in hand, as a matter of fact most if not all the pictures of me, my siblings, parents and extended family during “Mr. Doug’s” time in Shiraz were captured by him with genuine love & respect for our family, our culture and traditions. The amazing black and white photos, captured our family moments so beautifully and have been and will be treasured always. The privilege of staying in touch throughout the almost last 50 years with Doug and his family is one that we will cherish forever.
Thank you “Mr. Doug” for the great pictures giving us beautiful memories of our childhood and our home in Shiraz. You will be missed…
Sending our comforting thoughts and love to the Davis Family
Vida, Kourosh, Omead & Ramin Kohanteb
and on behalf of the entire Refah Family
Our community is so lucky that Doug and Tobi followed Aaron and Elizabeth here to make Kalamazoo their home. In Tobi’s way, she connected Doug with the work we were doing in our ISAAC task force on Early Childhood and Education. In Doug’s way, he quietly supported and participated, revealing his immense knowledge over time in the testimony, letters and editorials he would help us draft to advocate for policies and funding that improved early childhood in Michigan. Despite his load, he found time to advise and encourage me, providing a stout cup of black coffee to get our engines going. When our daughter headed toward University of Michigan and a minor in social work, he provided his counsel and encouragement to her, as well. His steadfast support of Tobi’s work through ISAAC for our community these many years, on top of his entire career full of contributions to early childhood and those he guided in that work, and the inspiration that continues to impact all who knew him leave an enormous legacy. So much gratitude!
One of my favorite pictures of Doug exists only in my head. The last visit we had Roger and I arrived at the house in the early evening. Tobi was out and Doug was sitting on the deck, facing away from us, sipping wine and surveying his beautiful yard…a man at peace. I walked up and said, “Hey. How are you?” He replied, “Waiting for you.”
Diana’s 90th Birthday Party, Brockenhurst, Dorset, Saturday, 21st June 2014
When I heard I was sitting next to Doug at Diana’s 90th Birthday lunch I felt as if I had pulled the lucky straw. Somehow I knew that we wouldn’t be just swopping pleasantries, chatting about the food and the glorious weather or even trying to do potted life histories. Having sat next to Doug at previous extended family events and celebratory meals, I anticipated an intensely connected and meaningful conversation, which would really go somewhere and then return in my mind later in unexpected ways. And that’s just what happened.
I was keen to ask Doug to tell me about attachment theory, as some friends of mine had adopted two children and had been talking to me about how understanding attachment theory might help them with the new demands of parenting they were facing. Doug listened to my questions with his usual attentiveness and, as always, managed to get right to the core of what I was asking him about. He told me about John Bowlby’s visit to his Department many years previously, how they’d had lunch together and how ideas about attachment had gone in and out of fashion since then. His sharp mind and warm heart enabled him to chat so generously with me about my friends and their concerns, but also to range out into some other really interesting discussions about bringing up children more generally, and about how patterns get passed down the generations (even when you might prefer they didn’t).
At the end of the conversation, Doug offered to send me his book about child psychology, which includes a chapter on attachment theory. A few weeks later, a package arrived in Dolphinholme from Kalamazoo; it was Doug’s book. How easy it would have been not to have followed through on this good intention. But he took the trouble to wrap up his book and send it off to England. I was really touched.
Unlike many of you, I didn’t know Doug very well at all; I just always took the opportunity to chat with him at some of the big birthday parties I attended. Although we only met on a few occasions, I think the quality of Doug’s emotional engagement with people has meant that the connections he created have always lingered and endured.
Doug was so knowledgeable and yet always seemed to have a genuine modesty. I admired him tremendously. When Hilary told me about his sudden death last week, it felt almost impossible to take in, as I had such a vivid sense of his presence in the world. I think it is for that strength of presence that I’ll remember him.
This memory is sent with much love to you all. You’ll be in my thoughts on Friday especially.
Jackie xx
I have a lot of visual memories from the Broadway house, the house that Doug and Tobi lived in during my first 4-5 years with Justin: the dark basement where all manner of forgotten long-term storage items were kept, the swinging door between the kitchen and the dining room that was always propped open except when Heather kitty was kept inside for the night, the large Le Creuset pot in which Doug would cook his family-sized khoreshes, the gigantic, orderly pile of rinsed dishes he would leave in the kitchen after dinner to deal with the next day, the veloured blue couch that we squished onto to watch the one musical he sanctioned (Singin’ in the Rain), the rectangular oak dinner table where we’d eat with Doug and Tobi, and they would daily insist that I sit next to Justin even though I thought of it as my time to visit with them, not Justin; the railroad ties that lined the driveway and somehow defined its boundaries as ‘the basketball court’ for him and his sons to play a pickup game, the sloping hill up the street that made for excellent sledding one afternoon. I had two favorite places in the Broadway house, and one was the staircase. It was lined with many photos of family. As I walked upstairs to the room where one of their four cats would later pee on our bags, where I would enjoy many late nights talking with Justin in the company of rows of green plants in a green room with green edging and his many books, Doug and Tobi enjoyed narrating many stories about each of the people in their family photos. It was the way I first ‘met’ his siblings and their children and Tobi’s large family, standing on a tree trunk. Each time I stayed at their house, I would stop and look at all those pictures again on my way to my second favorite place: the green room. This was a tradition I would miss when they moved to their next home, once settling in Kalamazoo to be near to the twins, and to support Aaron and Elizabeth in their new and demanding roles.
Initially, I wondered how he and Tobi could leave behind the wonderful photos that made their families so present. I realized later that Doug was a man who regularly established new rituals for himself, even as they changed: collecting firewood on his regular walks (when he was doing those neighborhood walks), staying at the same B&B when teaching in Ann Arbor (when he was still commuting regularly to teach there), seeing a play or eating at a favorite restaurant each time he went to consult, building his woodpile, preparing his garden, going to Stinson Beach when in the Bay Area, seeing his sisters, or bringing back pastis when he would consult in Traverse City. When I think of Doug, I realize that I think of routine and consistency. Despite this natural bent, he was very comfortable with spontaneity, irregular and unplanned things, as anyone who knows Justin really has to be. He cherished Justin–his love of the natural, the spectacular, the funny and odd–even as he had to be an entirely different way with him than he was with Justin’s brother, Aaron. It is a gift for a parent to meet each child where they are. We will miss that.
One day at reflective group, Doug mentioned that he had been cutting wood. I was surprised that, not only was he wise, intelligent and insightful; he also cut wood. I called him the ‘Intellectual Woodcutter’. Metaphorically, he never stopped doing the endless job of caring for others and he had a balance of deep insight combined with practical reality. He was a good man and someone who has inspired me to be more present and conscious. I will miss him. I often ask myself, ‘What Would Doug Say?” That question has helped me be a better Infant Mental Health Therapist and I will always remember him.
“Doug, you will be missed but the spirit of your work lives on in the hearts of all those who had the honor of spending time with you, including myself. Thank you.”
Patty Clark
I didn’t know Doug well, but my clearest memories are from the Planned Parenthood days in the 70’s. Emily and I worked at PP as counselors and were very fortunate to have a spirited and close relationship with our colleagues. We had a number of family parties with the staff, and one I recall was a pool party at Ellen Macdonalds that included the Hackley and Davies families. I have a photo in my head of Doug at poolside. Maybe a miracle will take place and I’ll be able to find it. We are so sorry for your loss. Pat & Jamie
Thank you, Pat for this long-ago memory. That pool party completely escapes me. Emily
Dear Doug,
The memory I hold of you is your voice- the particular lilt of your speech, the thoughtful pauses, your warm tone. You helped me through some very difficult cases and through them, your voice always conveyed hope. You had the rare gift of being able to hold both sadness and hope simultaneously, interwoven with strands of humour; a fine craftsman of understanding.
Doug, you were an example of our human capacity for connection, and the healing that is possible when we simply hold each other in positive regard. I believe you thought this skill was possible for every one of us to master. Your work did not end with your life, but continues, and continues, and continues, through every one of us who were lucky enough to know you, to hear you, and to hope with you.
With deep gratitude and appreciation,
Miche
I remember Doug so fondly from social gatherings in Ann Arbor. While conversations with others might have been superficial, Doug was always “right there,” ready for a meaningful conversation even if brief. So kind, thoughtful, helpful, and interesting. Many people I knew spoke of what a wonderful therapist he was or other ways he touched their lives.
Tobi, I’m sorry I won’t be about to come to Kalamazoo but I will be with you in spirit. With much love, Kathy Mo.
What are three wonderful truths about Doug? Not hard to tell:
An attentive mind, an accepting heart, a playful spirit.
When you talked to Doug, you always knew that he truly listened to you, and that he listened because he was genuinely interested. He didn’t try — or even feel the need — to solve your problems, to tell his side of things, or to judge. He always cared about what you were saying because it mattered to you, and you always mattered to him.
Doug accepted you for who you are — on your own terms, not his — with a ready smile, a warm embrace, a gentle demeanor, and a welcoming heart. He never hesitated to step out where he could meet you in that space between, neither his nor yours, but a mutual place that he would happily share with you forever.
With the twinkle of mischief in his eyes, the delight of an uninhibited child dancing there, Doug showed you how to play joyfully, how to joke at no one’s expense, how to delight in life, how to be silly and have fun, how to celebrate and take joy in those you love.
About a month before I gave birth to my now two month old son, I was sitting at Crow’s Nest having lunch solo when Hayden and Doug came in for lunch and were seated across from me. Hayden and I had just closed “The Hobbit” and we chatted for a minute about the baby to be, my four year old daughter, Hayden’s next show “Anne of Green Gables” and how Elizabeth volunteered already to babysit! Then I went back to finishing my lunch but I eavesdropped on the wonderful conversation Hayden and Doug had all about their summer plans as they mapped it all out. I remember thinking that Doug and Tobi were just the kind of grandparents I want to be someday. Adventurous and fiercely loving. Sending you all much love in the difficult time.
I first met Doug when we both started grad school in Ann Arbor in the fall of 1970. He was an engaging guy with an ever-present smile that aided his ever impish and insightful sense of infectious humor.
He had this great ability to really listen to you and comment in a way that never undermined you but showed his intelligence in the kindest way possible. Rather than try to drag you down his rabbit hole, he was accepting of the one you proposed to explore with humbly offered suggestions you were usually wise to listen to. No one was ever sorry to run into Doug and talk about whatever. “Oh, Jamie” I can still hear him say.
What a fine man.
I feel blessed and enriched for having known Doug which was when he married Tobi. We were both in-laws in the Hanna clan and one year when the family all converged at Gillian’s (Tobi’s mom) for Christmas week, we arrived only to find out that Gillian was in an awful car accident. As in-laws, one thing that Doug and I helped out with during those anxious days was grocery shopping. Once when checking out at the store, the clerk “carded” Doug because he’d bought some wine. I don’t remember how old Doug was but he was WAY past 21! Of course, Doug thought the clerk was kidding. Nope. Doug blinked and said something like, “you’ve got to be kidding!!” Nope. “Really?” Yup. And then a huge grin spread across his face as he happily pulled out his driver’s license to prove he was over 21. His reaction was sooo funny!!
Doug’s sense of humor along with his accepting manner towards others and easy going way made him so very very likeable. The world has become emptier.
I existed somewhere in the asteroid belt of Doug’s solar system, but I still felt his light and warmth. I would see him briefly at wide intervals, as Tobi and Lucy showed me how a family can stay connected over expanding time and distance.
I admired him. I listened when he spoke. And there was an easy comfort between us that flowed from his calm self-assurance, him kindness, and his wit.
He was helpful and generous with Lucy and me when he saw the opportunity, and so he influenced our lives. I saw him flash with justified anger once, and I was impressed with his quick, controlled power. I remember thinking, “Wow- I want to spend more time around you!” But I never really could.
Most of all, I loved the moments when I saw him with his grandchildren, those beautiful, gifted kids, so lucky to have the coolest grandpa in the world.
Now, too soon, much, much too soon, he’s gone. Even from my remote orbit, I miss him already. Still, we are all richer, richer by far, from having him in our lives.
Eric C Williams
June 11, 2015
While studying in grad school, Doug’s book was with me at ALL time. I was just in awe of this man’s ability to write about children in a way that made sense and even in his book I felt so supported in my learning. I never thought I would have the chance to meet the man behind “the book”. I remember feeling so starstruck when I was at a training and Doug was there. Over the next few years I had the privelge to get to know him and work with him. My admiration for him only grew as I saw, felt and understood more about him. At the Conference just a few weeks ago, Doug gave me a high five after speaking. At that moment I remember feeling so starstuck again. In that high five I will forever hold the support, passion and encouragement that he gave to each and everyone of us in the IMH world. Thank you so very much for everything, you will be missed, but never forgotten!
Even though we didn’t know Doug well, we know Aaron. And, the rest of the Lane-Davies family. Because of the loving, generous father and husband Aaron is – we know this is true about Doug as well. Our hearts are aching for your loss. Loosing a parent is so difficult and you know, we know that journey all too well. I love that you are celebrating and honoring his life in typical L-D fashion, full-on with love and grace. Thinking of each of you as you sit with this grief. Sending our love.
Beth, Bob, Duncan and Lucy
What a brilliant example of a life well-lived, a legacy of love, and an inspiration for all — those who knew him well, those only a little and the lucky ones who will continue to live out in their own lives the beautiful gift of himself he so generously gave. With all my heartfelt sympathy for your great loss.
I met Doug when I first entered the doctoral program in American Culture at the University of Michigan, where he was also a student. We soon moved two doors away from Doug and his family, then shared a duplex on Jones Drive. Doug and his dear family became an extension of our own family, sharing meals, sharing childcare, sharing many nights of conversation. We even shared emergencies. I remember the time I almost set the kitchen on fire, and my daughter Chelsea ran down the stairs to see what was happening. Seeing me standing by the sink with a pan of melted snow and flaming gasoline, she said, “I’m getting Doug!” and did just that. Doug helped us make things OK.
Years later, I remember complaining to Doug about how my now-adolescent daughter was pushing all my buttons, and he gazed at me gently and said dryly, “And what made you think that parenting was supposed to be easy all the time?”
Doug will always be in my heart, and my love goes out to Tobi, Aaron, Justin, and all of his family.
I find my thoughts and heart drifting toward Doug often over this past week. Just yesterday, I was in the garden, and Doug joined me. I felt the warmth, albeit with a new ache, that I always felt when we worked, played, ate, laughed, walked and thought together. How I cherish those many memories and all that this fine fine man brought to my life.
Doug helped me find a whole new depth of being that I had glimpsed but had previously been unable to fully access. My journey with Doug was as it was due to the complexity of Doug’s character. He was ridiculously funny, which always was a key ingredient for us- like the perfect spice… maybe 1 t sumac on the pilaf today and some lemon zest tomorrow. He was crazy insightful and smart; the way he cleared his throat would alert me that it was time to really pay attention to the comment that was approaching. His love of language his constant quest for how to frame a concept created bridges that I eagerly walked over. Doug skillfully showed me what I was missing (either that I actually had in place and didn’t see or that I could add to my practice); my notes are full of these small and oh so significant practice changes/additions/shifts that have helped me become so much more helpful to families. We always talked about family; I knew Doug’s family long before I met them. I so looked forward to the progress updates on the grandchildren, and Doug’s sons. And of course, then I was able to meet first Tobi, and then the rest of the family. That is when I saw/felt the whole Doug.
Working with Doug taught me volumes about families, people, myself, but being with Doug in his family cemented it all for me. It was there that I felt the way love can spiral and braid and rise among, between, within family, like a rising mist in a field. I am grateful beyond measure that Doug introduced me to his family.
I am changed, deeply changed, I am far more myself and better able to cultivate and nurture love in my own fields, due to knowing Doug. It’s hard to imagine carrying on without seeing/talking/laughing/walking/supping/writing/thinking/listening/wondering/… with Doug, but I will do my ample best to live and love more deeply and carry his spirit forward.
Doug is a few things to me. He’s my wife’s brother, my children’s Uncle and my brother in law. This brother in law thing was especially important to me and I wear it like a badge of honor. I love you Doug.
I first met Doug when Jenifer and I were first dating and he came to Modesto to visit his Dad, Walt, and Jenifer. In the mix was also to meet the new boyfriend. I wasn’t sure what to expect. Doug was himself when we met so you know he was a pleasure to meet and a gentleman who pleasantly (but probably cautiously) greeted me and made me feel at ease. After all, this was the guy who was dating his baby sister.
Over the 38 or so years I have continually grown more and more impressed with Doug and the way he saw the world and life and the way he treated both.
I don’t know exactly when it happened but at some point in all those years Doug became such an influence to me personally that I made daily decisions based on how I thought Doug would see or do it. Sometimes it would drive me crazy but I could and never have been able to stop this. I thank him for this because I truly believe that I am a better person from this than had it never happened.
In all these years we have done many things together. We golfed, we walked together, hiked (when I could keep up with him), we traveled together but several years ago we found our common love for wine. Oh I have enjoyed many a bottle with Doug. It was so much fun to talk wine share wine and discover new tastes. Our trip to Napa was especially fun. It was awesome to watch Doug discover the Dariuosh winery, it seemed to bring back some pleasant memories of his time in Iran.
We all know how special of a person he is, his caring of others, his compassion to be sure everyone around him was happy, the simple look he could give you to let you know he cared about you or that maybe I was close to crossing a line that I shouldn’t, you know those looks.
There is an uncanny attribute that Doug possessed, it’s was this level of caring about you, it was always there and you could always feel good knowing it was there. Knowing it was there gave courage and confidence. It seems to be a trait that must come from his parents because it is also deeply embedded in his sisters too. I believe it transcends throughout his family and descendants. You are all so lucky to be so blessed.
These comments have taken me a long time to write. I write until the keyboard becomes to blurry from tears to write anymore. I write a little, cry a little and then start again. It’s been so difficult over these last several days.
The deep sorrow I have has enveloped me. Doug is constantly on my mind I wake in the night and my mind is flooded about thoughts of Doug. My sorrow is so deep I cannot fathom the difficulty Tobi, April, Jenifer, Aaron, Justin, and their families are going through to try and deal with the loss of Doug.
Doug, on behalf of my family we all love you, I love you, and we will miss you so deeply. You were such an awesome Uncle. I know my children are better people having you as an Uncle. You also blessed our family when you brought Tobi into our fold. She is so much like you in so many ways, no wonder you two are in love with each other.
I will always miss you, I will always love you, I know that a part of me died with you and that’s ok because the part that you loved about me and all of us we still have and that love will transcend through us for the rest of our lives.
I will always have a treasure of memories of you. I will go on living my life with you in my thoughts and how you would have done this or that or what you have thought about a certain place, thing or situation, it always makes me feel better.
I will remember so much about you and try to live my live with those thoughts to guide me.
I will see you in San Francisco, I will see you at Stinson Beach, I will see at Glacier Point, I will see you swirling a beautiful Napa Cabernet, I will see you in your families eyes, I will miss you so terribly much and for always.
Peace to you.
As John and Marianne Reiff’s daughter, I got to enjoy the benefits of their friendship with Doug and Tobi. I have a memory of lying in a sheet of fabric swung between the arms of these two loving adults as a mini-hammock and feeling comfortable and connected to them. I remember visiting Doug and Tobi after we had moved away from Michigan and sharing a meal and friendship, and returning home with barely a spot to sit in the car because of all the perennials Doug had divided and sent me home with for my own garden. A love of plants is something I share with him to this day.
Doug’s relationship with Emily touched me in a profound way during and after my divorce. The way they all are together in such a loving positive way guided me in what vision I wanted to have with my ex husband. You all have been great role models to whats possible. I am happy I got to tell Doug this on one of my walks past his house while he was gardening. He always said hello and took the time to inquire about me. Such a kind and loving man.
Sending my love to all of you.
Beth
I had the privilege and honor of knowing Doug as a colleague in the School of Social Work. As an Associate Dean in the School, I worked with faculty on various issues.
Doug was universally recognized by his colleagues and students alike as one of the most dedicated and excellent teachers in the School. The confirmation of his excellence was evidenced in course evaluations and student comments.
As a colleague he was a pleasure to work with, always thoughtful and full of ideas. Personally, I found him to be a kind and gentle soul who cared for the well-being of others.
My heartfelt sympathies go out to his family. He will be missed.
At hearing the news of Doug Davies, tears came to my eyes. We are very good friends with the Lane-Davies family and have had many friendly conversations with Doug on all of our many visits to see our favorite family! Doug always popped over to the Lane-Davies house and would visit while we were there, and Tobi, too. He was always very kind to all of us and showed an interest in whatever we were doing. I enjoyed the small conversations centered around all of our children as they were playing together. He and Tobi eagerly came to a “wedding” as one of my daughters “married” Hayden several years ago in an outdoor “wedding.” 🙂 Tobi accompanied us on several trips over the years of our visits, one being to the museum in Kalamazoo. He even took time to come over and twirl the jump rope for all of the girls learning to jump rope one summer visit. And the list could go on. Even though we were visitors staying at the Lane-Davies house for the weekend, Doug always made it over to see us, and he always remembered us. He almost always returned to bid farewell, too, before we left for home. He was that kind of person.
It is very sad to see him missing from the family. We have fond memories of our trips to Edgemoor Ave which all include Doug Davies. All of our older children remember him. They too were equally shocked to hear of his passing. All will remember him in their own way. He will be greatly missed.
It would be my hope that we could pack up and come to the memorial on Friday, but since that is not the case, we send our thoughts and prayers, love and support. We love you all…
The Nussbaum
John, Cynthia, Rachel, Becky, Renee, Lorraine & Johnny
I, still, cannot believe Uncle Doug has left us, but I do know he led a very successful, happy, accomplished life. He was beyond full of love and loyalty for everything and everyone he came across. Everyone that met Uncle Doug was simply lucky.
For me, I am extremely lucky and honored to be able to call him Uncle. Unfortunately we lived so far away from each other it was hard to see one another but we emailed and then were able to keep in touch and share pictures via social media. I will always remember and cherish the advice he gave me personally and professionally. I was always so happy when he told me he was proud of me and looked forward to see my future accomplishments. I was excited to get his books and see the notes he had left for me.
Thank you Uncle Doug for all your words of encouragement and helpful advice. I definitely learned a great deal from you and will continue to use that knowledge.
Personally, I always had so much fun with you, catching up, visiting, whether it be in California or Michigan. Oh wow, our trip to Michigan was definitely one for the books. It was an absolute blast. We drank wine, went to that fun brewery, and even both got to surprise my parents. Last year we all got the pleasure of seeing all of you guys in California and it was absolutely unforgettable. I personally, was happy to visit with you and catch up on educational and professional things, but most of all that was the first time you got to meet Mia. A moment Ryan and I will never forget, as well as my parents. You always had a love for taking photos so to honor that I will continue to take more of Mia and keep posting them. Mia loves looking at them just as much as posing for them. Mia sat with me as I was looking at your photos and she started pointing out flowers, trees, and kids. A very emotional moment for me, knowing that I don’t get to see you again, but will get to talk about you and the great man that you were to Mia. I will tell her you were one of the best uncles one could ask for, and that you took all those photos she liked.
I love you.
Trish
There are no words to describe the deep gratitude and affection I will always carry for Doug, and the great sadness I feel for his family upon hearing of his death.
Both professionally and personally, his humble knowledge, gentle wisdom and impish humor have guided me in my practice as a elementary school social worker and as a parent.
I knew Doug as a favorite professor at U of M School of Social Work where he impacted me in the classroom as well as in my practicum at CAPH. I grew to know Doug again when I reached out to him post graduate school as I found myself reeling from the sudden deaths of my infant son and husband and desperately trying, and failing at the time, to parent my other two children. I was living in St. Joseph and Doug (and Tobi) had relocated to Kalamazoo. For two years, on a weekly basis, he set up shop in a borrowed downtown Kalamazoo office and provided a safe place for my children to grieve and for me to find my legs again as a parent. We would reconnect intermittently when Lauren and Henry would reach different developmental stages and have new questions. Always, he would meet us where we were, creating normalcy in the messiness of our grief and in our joys and challenges of familyhood. Quite selfishly, I had thought and hoped that he would live forever.
To describe the impact Doug had on me and my family is nearly impossible. He spoke often of his love for his family and shared stories of his grandchildren (the twins are the same age as my daughter). Doug was a beacon of hope and light to so many, offering morsels of wisdom with grace and humor, and providing a safe harbor and depth of understanding for children across the country.
We are all better for having known him and having felt the gravitational pull of his warmth. I will carry him in my heart always.
professor Davies asked me to call him Doug when he came visit me this Jan in CA. I still would like to call himProfessor Davies because in Chinese culture, there is a saying that “it is like having a father for the lifetime, even if you were just mentored for one day.” I thank God that I had been so lucky to have been mentored by Professor Davies for the past 17 years. His mentorship even extended when I moved back to Taiwan to serve my own people.
There are so many moments of my life that he guided me generously, not just professionally, but also personally. It was him who introduced me to the world of working with children and young infants; it was him who constantly thought with
me together how I could serve clients in Taiwan better; it was him who support my life mission (to develop infant mental health services) and encouraged me to take one thing at a time. It was him who provided this kind of secure base so that I could wonder around in this world and explore how I can serve. If I can stand still and contribute back to my country, it is because of his love, his support and his guidance.
Thank you, professor Davies, I should call you Doug. I thank God for bringing you into my life so that I am equipped enough to touch people’s hearts. Thank you. I love you. You will always, always, be remembered and honored in my service and in my life, as a mentor, a friend, and a lifetime father figure!
Being Doug’s baby sister, in my eyes, was always a very special place to be. Although he made me feel that I was the special one, I know he made April feel equally as special.
When I came along Doug was nearly fourteen.
I have fond memories of playing down the street with the neighborhood kids when I was four or five. My big brother would drive down the street in his Blue Triumph sports car. He would stop and pick me up, put me on his lap and let me feel I was driving home. Or let a few of my friends climb in the very small back seat for a drive around the block.
I remember those prom pictures in the backyard, going to see Doug in school plays and getting to tag along on rides out to Emily’s and a great camping trip near Sonora pass.
It wasn’t too long before Doug was off to college, married and living his life. Yet, there was still time for me to visit him in the city he loved, ( San Francisco), and show me his favorite places.
After the Peace Corps when they settled in Kalamazoo. Momma and daddy bought a brand new car that year, so we could make the trek from California to Michigan at Christmas to meet their first grandson and my nephew Aaron. There were a few more very memorable visits when Aaron and Justin were young, in Albany and then in Ann Arbor.
Doug would make it a point to come home to California for holidays and share his memories and special places with his boys and Tobi. We shared many family reunions in Modesto and Arcata over the years. He always took time to spend with our dad as he grew older. Whenever he had a chance to work in California he made plans to reunite. He was always delighted to see how Trisha, Jake and Mary had grown and was genuinely interested in their lives.
Burt and I loved sitting around the table with Doug and Tobi talking and drinking good wine. We would share slide shows of pictures he always carried oh his laptop. Doug’s passion for photography was amazing. So many precious memories he caught on camera. He documented life with such love and affection.
Having that family connection meant a lot to Doug. I am so thankful for that.. Whether it was his family, friends old and new or his family of colleagues or students, we all mattered and were important and special.
I love my sweet brother so much! He made such an effort to do so much for all of us, but to Doug it was no effort at all.
I an so thankful Doug found Tobi. What a beautiful life together! They have shared a true love and appreciation for each other. It has carried through to Aaron and Elizabeth, Justin and Laurel, Hannah, Hayden and Sage. I see the same qualities in them. We love you all!
I have so many fond memories of Doug. Most recently, I’ve appreciated his wisdom as a leader who has helped to guide MI-AIMH into such a highly respected organization. Doug always respected my opinion, even though he was infinitely more experienced.
But my first memories of Doug are still with me. It was about 1996 and the ink on my MSW had just dried. I was at PACT working with foster care-involved families. In one of my cases, a 3 year old boy had witnessed two separate, but highly traumatic events through which he had lost both of his siblings. He was confused and terrified, and his mother was so burdened with grief that she could not see him. And I felt absolutely paralyzed without a clue about how to be helpful. So I called Doug.
As is often said, people may not remember what you said but they will always remember how you made them feel. But in this case, I remember both. Doug’s compassion and support helped tremendously. And so did his wisdom. He helped me gain perspective and consider what to say and how to help this very little boy be seen and cared for by his mother during the overwhelming tragedy. After my conversation with Doug, I still felt that I might not have all the skills I needed for this case, but he gave me the courage to go back and try. I will never forget how kind and supportive he was. It meant so much to me and I am eternally grateful. His help has certainly shaped my professional life. And knowing him has been a gift. Thank you for sharing him with all of us.
Doug and family were an extension of my own family. When I was 4 we moved to A2, leaving all of our extended family and the Davies quickly filled that role. I didn’t get a sibling of my own until I was 13, and Justin and Aaron were my default brothers. We would put on plays for our parents — and Justin would good naturedly play any role while Aaron and I would arm wrestle about who got to direct. When we moved two doors down we would spend countless hours picking cattails, riding bikes and exploring the woods. During one of our adventures we struck gold — and excitedly brought our shimmering rocks back home. Doug gently broke the news that what we’d found was pyrite, fools gold, but he made us feel like intrepid explorers not fools for the find.
Doug’s guidance and help were also needed when Aaron’s class in elementary school stole my classes stuffed mascot and blew it up. Let’s just say it’s good to have a trained facilitator in the family for moments of crisis to help heal deep wounds. Aaron, you have your father to thank for me not blaming you. 🙂
Soon after Doug and Tobi met, they went on a double date for a teacher I was babysitting for. It was the first time I met Tobi. When I got home I told my parents that Doug was totally in love and they were going to get married. Even though my mom had introduced Tobi and Doug, my parents didn’t share my certainty that marriage was immediately on the horizon. Which made me all the happier when a short while later Doug came over to let us know that he and Tobi were engaged. I felt so grown up to have figured it out first!
Doug was such a figure of my childhood that he was in many ways my “other dad.” What my own dad left out in his story of setting our kitchen on fire was that shortly after seeing him with the burning pan and things going from bad to worse, my mom had called at just that moment. I picked up the phone, told her that dad had set the kitchen on fire and that I couldn’t talk, I had to get Doug. Then I promptly hung up on her. Doug was the only one I knew who would know what to do. Clearly.
Doug touched so many people in such profound ways and his legacy lives on in the kindness and generosity of spirit that lives on in his family and friends. Much love, the Reiffs
Although I didn’t know Doug well, I did watch him interact with his loved ones and with the children, teachers, and families of Kazoo School many times over the years. It was obvious, even from a distance, that Doug was a kind, thoughtful, caring man. Passing him in the Kazoo School hallway, as he headed out to volunteer for recess duty, Doug always had a warm smile and a kind word (even on those bitterly cold January days!). His support for our little school was unwavering and is deeply appreciated. The love he felt for his family and his compassion for others were evident in his every action. Doug’s spirit clearly still shines in this world – through the Lane-Davies family and through all those whose lives he touched.
Sending love to all of you,
Rose
Today we’ll all be gathering — some in body, all in spirit — to say goodbye to the nicest man we’ve ever known. Those of us who’ve had the wonderful opportunity to go back many moons with Doug and his family have had the blessing to witness repeatedly the kindness, grace, and humor he brought to any situation — difficult, enjoyable, or otherwise.
We all try to be kind and respecful to others, but Doug never tried. He just was.
When we lose someone we love, we try to feel better by saying they’ll always be with us in memory. We mean it when we say it, but time has to constantly remind us as our lives evolve. But we really will carry Doug with us at all times, because we know it’s not good for us if we don’t.
All of our love to Doug’s family. He made us all feel like part of it. There’s nothing better to be said about another human being.
Oh there is so much to say- but so hard to write it. Papa was one of the loveliest people I’ve known. His gentle compassion and caring complimented his wit and smile. I love how he never seemed bothered by our interruption of a drop in visit. He (and Nana) always made us feel so welcome.
I loved watching him (and Nana) play with the Bubbies and then my children. I had never witnessed grandparents play that way. Amazing-Beautiful- child led play- being where they were, doing as they directed – so new to me.
I can not write with out mentioning how Papa’s support of my sister so powerfully magnified itself in her and flowed on to me and others. She shared with me and made me aware and better through all of it.
And yes there is Papa’s pesto too. A home made love-filled legacy in its own right. It was the gift that filled our bellies in visits to MI- gathered around a family table or that was lovingly sent on ice from MI to TN to be savored together.
Our lives are forever better because of Papa!
Thinking of the short amount of time I knew Doug, I feel like I came late to a fabulous party, but am still so glad to have been invited.
I only really started to know Doug in the last few years after we had a chance to talk more extensively at a conference a few years back. He was one of the most fascinating people I have known….. his life experiences, his Peace Corps time, the little free library, his travels, his family, his grandchildren, his work in other states, the city of Arcata. I felt like I got to know so much about Doug in a short amount that time. Since that time, I always looked forward to seeing him at meetings. ( For a short amount of time I even had custody of his coffee mug which was left behind at one, which gave us both a chuckle afterwards.) I suspect, that like so many, I knew Doug was an endless source of profound wisdom, deep love and authentic goodness…. and I wanted to know more. I was always pleased to see him, and grateful that enjoyed talking with me.
The workshops by Doug that I attended, the writings of his I read, the meetings where he spoke….. each moment a chance to become more informed, more enlightened, more passionate about babies, toddlers and their families, and what was the right thing to do, the right direction to go.
Doug’s greatest gift to me will be, however, my deepest loss. When I was talking with Doug, it felt like there was no one else in the world more important, no place else he needed to be. I will miss being “seen” with that authentic sincerity and full presence. That is what I have heard repeated in numerous conversations about Doug this week….. that he had the ability to make everyone feel so very important and valued. I will also miss him terribly because he encompassed such humility, compassion, and generosity in everything he did.
Such gifts Doug gave to all of us. And what a life well-lived and well-loved. Such sad for my loss, our loss, but incredibly grateful that so many lives have been so deeply enriched. Rest well dear Doug… You served our world so well.
One of my favorite things about Grandpa Doug/Papa/G’pa, was his funny and carefree manner. The last time he visited me in Hawaii, he went to Starbucks to get a cup of coffee and it started pouring while he was out. When he returned, his whole front was soaked but his whole back was dry because the rain had blown in one direction. And, of course, Grandpa Doug being Grandpa Doug, didn’t care that he was all wet. He just laughed and made it funny instead of being a grump about getting wet.
Another thing I remember is that when he came to visit me in Denver many years ago, I decorated him with many colorful ties and he let me. It looked ridiculous, but it made me happy and that made him happy.
I will always keep these memories close and I will always love you G’pa .
-Sage
I love your stories, Sagey-Sage. I can just see G’pa in both of them. I miss you. Hope to see you again before too long. XXXOOO.
I had the incredible fortune to be able to work with Doug when he provided consultation for us here in Alaska. His wisdom, kindness, and generosity will be missed. My deepest condolences to you and your loved ones! I feel so privileged to have crossed paths with such an amazing and kind hearted Individual.
We were Peace Corps volunteers in Iran…Doug and Emily, Frank and I. Doug and Emily, and Frank, lived in apartment spaces in the Refahs’ house where they shared a Persian garden courtyard. When Frank and I decided to marry we planned that I would move in, and the three families would live as close friends and neighbors. The wedding was to be in July 1967, and my parents and brother were to come from the Philippines on their way home to Colorado. Doug would be our best man.
Shortly before the wedding Doug’s heart condition was discovered and Peace Corps doctors sent him to Walter Reed Hospital for evaluation. We did not know whether he would return. Our wedding preparations continued and we made arrangements for someone to stand in for Doug.
My parents arrived, excited about the wedding and anxious to be part of my Iran experience. I loved Iran, the Peace Corps, my job and especially my little community…the Refahs with their seven children, the Davies and my fiancee, Frank. I wanted to share this life with my parents and younger brother.
My parents, however, were unprepared for the degree to which I had stepped away from things familiar to them and my deep connections in the community around me. Tensions developed. Frank and I responded with moments of indecision. Still, I had my family and their love. Frank had no similar support, and we had heard nothing from Doug and Emily.
A couple of days before the wedding the door to the “kucheh” (lane) opened and there stood…Doug and Emily. Everything eased. Emily with her infectious enthusiasm, Doug with his quiet smile, his wit, his reassurance, completed our circle. Frank had the support of their friendship and so did I. I was especially happy to have Doug there for Frank. They were good friends and colleagues in the Pahlavi University English Department. The wedding went from tension-filled to fun. Our son carries Doug’s name.
Many times over the intervening 48 years Doug appeared, unannounced, on my doorstep. We shared endless conversations, adventures, childbirths, divorces, new spouses, families, intellectual interests, professional choices, good food and drink (even cigarettes), and, above all, enduring friendship. I was looking forward to a visit in Kalamazoo in the fall.
Doug, I miss you, and I love you with all my heart.
Becky
Here is a picture of the wedding
My brother, Mark, commented on this post,
“Ah, Doug. I fondly remember him showing off a copy of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, fresh from the U.S.; it seemed so exotic, so special, and part of that must have been his delivery.”
I was so disappointed that I was unable to attend the memorial service for Doug and want to pass on my sincere condolences to Tobi, Aaron & Elizabeth and the entire Davies family.
I enjoyed the time and conversations I had with Doug over the years as their tax advisor. Doug was what a CPA appreciates in a client…organized and very personable. We talked many times about his work, travels and of course his family. His devotion to his children and grandchildren was so evident and he had such a similar spirit and demeanor as his son Aaron–caring and calm.
I will dearly miss him and our annual talks to catch up about everything and anything.
Camille Hoekstra
The past two weeks have been very unreal for me. Doug’s sudden death left this unusual, wonderful, blended/extended family in a state of disbelief. But also, in typical fashion, we rallied together and overflowed with love and comfort for one another. The notes, comments on the web site and from people at the memorial reassure us that our perceptions of Doug as an especially gentle, wise, caring and loving man are accurate and universal.
One of the hard things for me has been that, other than our immediate blended family, few people understand that the second husband of Doug’s first wife might actually be grieving as well. Yet I am. Doug was an important part of my life for over thirty years as we grew from tentatively accepting, to warm and brotherly in our relationship. It was a privilege for me to watch and participate as first Aaron and Justin, then later Hannah, Hayden, and Sage grew into the wonderful people they are today, due in no small part to Doug’s nurturing ways. Thank you Doug, for this wonderful gift to your/our family. Thank you Emily, for bringing me into your world. And thank you Tobi, for welcoming me as your “almost brother-in-law”.
Emily and I had been hiking on the North Country Trail with Aaron, when Doug, returning from Traverse City, stopped by to join us for a part of the trek. It was then that he experienced a blackout on the trail that had us all concerned. At dinner afterwards he appeared shaken, but by Sunday night when all the hikers got together back in Kalamazoo he was his usual engaged self and under the watchful eye of his cardiologist. We parted with a warm hug and his reassuarance that he was taking care of himself. I know he was, but sometimes our genetics and biological clocks have the upper hand.
Doug, I will miss you immensely, and the galaxy of our blended family will never be the same again. We are wobbling in our individual orbits right now with the loss of your stabilizing gravitational force. We will normalize again, of course, and I promise to continue loving and being there for our children and grandchildren. Your spirit and example is alive in all of them and will carry all of us through the hardest of times.
Peace,
Tom
Doug and I were students together in the graduate program in American Culture at U of Michigan in the early 1970s. Unfortunately, we’ve lost touch over the last many years, but I have fond memories of times together at Michigan and for several years after. I was single and living in a tiny apartment at the back of an Ann Arbor house, scrambling to keep up with classes, papers, etc. He had those same student tasks, but he also had a family to whom he was obviously devoted. And he and Emily welcomed me into their orbit with young Justin and Aaron, who became my good buddies. I could leave the books aside for awhile, go to their house, and enjoy a homemade meal (I still make the cold Persian cucumber/yogurt soup every summer), good conversation, and playtime with the boys. Chasing around or working on drawings or giving them “airplane” rides with my feet holding them airborne until we inevitably collapsed in a profusion of giggles.
Doug was a wonderful photographer with a keen eye, and he had set up a dark room in their basement where he taught me how to develop pictures ( a skill I actually put to use later when adding pictures to my dissertation). He was so grounded and gentle and insightful, and sneak-up-on-you witty. A lasting image from those days: I stayed with them when I returned to defend my dissertation. When I arrived with the news that it had gone well, we sat on the floor with a huge bowl of celebratory blueberries in the middle. None of the blueberries survived the night.
I only met Tobi once, I think, on a visit to Ann Arbor probably in the late 80s or early 90s. And I could see that they were indeed a good match. As always, Doug was a welcoming host . And as it happened, grown up Justin was in town as well. An extra treat to see him. Doug left the room for a moment and came back with an audiotape. Turns out it was a recording of Justin at maybe three or four singing with me my special song for the boys, “Hey, ho, my little buckaroo buddies.” Doug had saved it all those years.
My condolences to Justin, Aaron, Tobi, Emily and all the family and friends who mourn the loss and celebrate the life of this good, good man.
The news of Doug’s passing came as quite a shock to me. Until very recently at Thanksgiving, the last time we had seen one another was at Justin and (my cousin) Laurel’s wedding in 2001 in Vermont! We saw each other again and sat down to talk about his newest job he had in Hawaii and I was thrilled that I was going to have the opportunity to reconnect with him and Tobi. He talked to me a little about ways of coping with my mother’s death and how I would grow from the experience of losing my mother at a young age.
It was nice to see how greatly he cared for me and was willing to lend an ear even though we weren’t directly family. His love and passion for his family is something that I will remember most about him. As well as his sense of humor, which always made me smile. And even though we argued about the Michigan/ Ohio State rivalry, at the end of the day we were able to laugh about it.
Doug, I will miss scrolling through to see a recently posted picture on instagram that you have posted and the trips to Laurel and Justin’s for you to greet me like we hadn’t seen each other in forever. Say hi to my mom for me!
Sending love and comforting thoughts during this difficult time.
Love,
Maleka and Uncle Jigger
Doug was one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. He was so gentle with our Building Blocks students, while still being warm, engaging, and genuinely enthusiastic. He could really “see” each child, and they soaked up that attention and appreciation. I remember one little 4-year old girl in particular, and how much she challenged us. We cared for her, but struggled with feeling the compassion and patience for her that we knew she needed. Doug saw our struggle, and was able to help us redefine our internal narrative, so we could engage with her in a way that was genuine, helpful, and therapeutic.
I loved talking to Doug, and felt so special when I could steal a few minutes of his time. I never walked away from a conversation with him where I didn’t feel inspired, empowered, and more competent in my work. Doug was such a powerful influence for me and so many others at Building Blocks. We are so, so lucky to have experienced his absolute model of unconditional care.
I was deeply saddened to hear of Doug’s passing and I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to write something. Doug had a huge impact on my work with children as I benefitted from his years of consulting at Building Blocks Therapeutic Preschool in Oakland, CA.
First, I have to say that when I heard Doug was coming to Building Blocks years ago I was a little nervous and intimidated – as he is well known in the child development and social work field. However, his gentle and humble presence immediately put me at ease. I was so impressed with his ability to “just be” with children. Having worked with children who have significant trauma histories, it was a wonder to watch him engage with them. Again, he was gentle, kind, and curious. Then, he would meet with our staff to discuss clients. He had simple, yet deep insights about many kids…but he always drew staff out, listened well, and led us to understand kids in new ways. I can’t possibly recount all of the ways he helped us with children and families, but one particular client situation stands out to me. At the time, I was a pregnant therapist working with a young child who had witnessed a lot of domestic violence. It became apparent that as my belly grew, this child became more worried about my safety. Doug strongly encouraged me to talk to the child, reflect on his scary experiences, and to then use personal disclosure (which therapists are not often encouraged to do) to share that I was married and that my husband was safe with me. He emphasized that it was important for the child to understand that I was safe and that not everyone hurt each other the way he had experienced in his young life. In most of our consultations with Doug, he always encouraged us to find ways to narrate to children that we knew what they had experienced (which many people shy away from doing with young children) but which is often the very thing they need to hear. I’m so grateful for the lasting impact Doug has had on my life. His legacy at Building Blocks will live on.
I was remembering something Dr. Davies said to me 21 years ago and thought to look him up and email him a thank you only to learn of his death. He was such a gift and his words, his demeanor, his essence live on in so many of us. I still want to share a memory. I was a social work intern, seeing a young child who, every time we met, persisted in throwing items at me. I wrote of my bewilderment as to what to do in a paper for his class. He proposed a simple and ( hypothesis, “maybe she’s scared.” Although this thought now seems obvious, Doug had a way of helping me consider the possibilities when faced with a challenge. I carry this with me today.
I am so lucky I had the opportunity to have him as a true teacher.
Another former UM-SSW student of Prof. Davies here. I found myself curious if he might still be in practice (looking for a referral for a loved one) and am so deeply saddened to hear of his passing. My condolences to his family! I recall my class with him being rather early in the morning, and yet we were all on time, never wanting to miss even a minute with the legendary Doug Davies. I was so deeply touched and impressed by his thorough understanding of children and as others have said, his practitioner’s guide on child development continues to be a go-to source for me as I work in the field. In addition to his most excellent lectures, I recall generous, hand-written page-long feedback on assignments. One in particular stands out to me: I wrote about a seemingly disastrous group therapy experience, which involved resistant teenagers and numerous expletives. I just wrote it like it happened, knowing Prof. Davies wouldn’t mind the language (and also that we could be real with our learning edges with him). He seemed to delight in it, commenting it read like a movie script! Then of course, he got to the heart of the matter–attuning to me as a burgeoning clinician, speaking to the importance of support from significant others in the profession, and offering his wonderful, incisive wisdom: perhaps this reactivity is related to the girls’ avoidance of relaxation, as to them relaxation felt unsafe due to their histories of trauma. Aha! He had a way of ‘wondering’ about things that was so gentle and masterful in imparting his knowledge. I only wish I could continue to learn from him as I develop in my career. But as others have said, there will always be some Doug Davies in my heart.
Doug Davies was my best friend. We were like Moose and Squirrel.
I only knew Doug for a short time, but it was powerful all the same. Doug became the consultant at my agency at the time about 3 years ago. We desperately needed help figuring out how to be helpful with the 3-6 year olds coming into our program, and Doug was a ray of hope for us!
I remember the first case I presented to Doug: a 4 year old boy that I had already been with for 2 years and had felt incredibly ineffective with the whole time. I was feeling frustrated and a bit ashamed at my clinical “failings”, and defensively blurted out “This kid is just such a jerk!” I remember very clearly Doug tilting his head, clearing his throat, and saying “Yeah, he’s doing a lot of jerky things. I wonder why?” His wondering was not an “I’m going to wonder with you even though I already know the answer” kind of exercise. He was genuinely curious about this child, and invited me into that curious space (forgiving, and even empathizing with, my judgmental outburst). That was the first time I had ever experienced such a pure holding environment, and it has stuck with me.
Now, as I parent my own 4 year old, I can look at his sometimes “jerky” behaviors and think “I wonder why?” My child gets that from me, and I got that from Doug- and we are both immeasurably better for it.
As I am preparing my talk for social workers in Taiwan today, I pick up Professor Davis’s Child Development. All of the sudden, my memories flooded back, I remember all the support he had given me since we first met in 1998.
I cannot believe that it has been three years now. In my work, in my talks, or even in my published book, I think of him often. I think of how I can honor him by providing good quality of supervision and services to Taiwanese social workers.
To my lifetime mentor…I really miss you.