Donn Lando

Thoughts About Donn

I’m writing this for Donn, not as an “Obituary” but as memories of a best friend.

Donn Lando and I lived by each other in Santa Clara. I had just moved out from Texas and we became acquainted our freshman year. Our acquaintance developed into a fast friendship. We had a lot of great discussions and first time experiences, some of which will remain unwritten. Before he had a car, we used to hitchhike to different places for fun. We would stand out on Stevens Creek with our thumbs out and usually get a quick ride. We hitched rides to downtown San Jose, the County Fair, Santa Cruz, San Francisco and Half Moon Bay. We once hitched a ride to Half Moon Bay carrying our fishing poles. A fisherman picked us up. Donn was always quick to make conversation and interested in getting to know people.

He really enjoyed cars and motorcycles. He was able to purchase a white '53 Ford convertible that we spent a lot of time in. We used to make spur-of-the-moment trips to San Francisco. He was always willing to take risks or look for excitement. I was with him one rainy day in October of '62 on Stevens Creek when the car spun out of control and we hit a sign in a parking lot head on. The car was totaled, and we were banged up pretty good but OK. Donn always seemed very lucky to me. He was always trying to experience new things. He really enjoyed taking risks and living life.

Donn was my Best Man when I married Sue. Shortly after that, he moved away. I know he spent time in Europe and in Japan. We lost touch completely shortly thereafter. About 5 years ago, because of internet technology, my wife decided to track him down. She was able to contact his father who lives in the east. Sadly, he told us that Donn had died in his early thirties. He had developed some health problems and died suddenly one evening in his home.

Donn loved his family very much and was always willing to help them. Whenever he spoke about his family, it was clear how he felt about them. I contacted his family to find out the details on how he had died. I hadn’t talked to his brother or sister for almost 40 years. Each of them expressed their love for their brother. They talked about how they missed him. They called him a role model brother. I consider him a role model best friend.

Charlie Massey

Donn Lando was my older brother. He is part of all of my first memories, he was two years old when I was born. Donn was, for me, the ideal older brother who watched out for me and protected me always. Back in the 50's, in San Francisco, a kid had much more freedom. We were allowed out of the house in the summertime right after breakfast and could go exploring the city or the fields or the streams, the parks, anywhere we cared to roam as long as we stuck together. We had wonderful adventures finding and bringing home stray dogs, flying kites, going to Playland at the Beach with the Fun House and Roller coaster and learining every inch of Golden Gate Park from Stowe Lake, to feeding the police horses carrots, to riding the merry-go-round.

One of my best memories of Donn and what kind of boy he was has to do with teaching me how to ride a bike. Donn was 8 and I was 6. My father had tried over two or three weekends to teach me. His method was straight forward and never varying. We went down to the center island of Sunset Boulevard, two blocks from our house in the Sunset District, and Dad would set me on the seat of the bike and walk along beside me for a little and then give the bike seat a mighty shove that sent me careening down the path...until I lost control of the handlebars and crashed. We must have tried 20 times with the same result. I remember crawling off into the bushes hoping Dad wouldn't be able to find me for another try. Donn came along the last time and took it all in. The next day, after school when we were playing outside, Donn suggested I try one more time, he would help me. Donn never let me down, so I agreed. He helped me up onto the bike. We lived on a slight incline so this would be even more difficult than the flat path, but Donn started off walking beside me down the little hill, then as I gained speed he ran beside the bike, guiding the handlebars as needed, and was still there with me at the bottom of the little hill and I was still upright on the bike! After a few more trial runs, each time Donn letting me take over more and more of the steering, I had learned how to ride a bike. No falls, no scraped knees, no terror.

And, that's how Donn always was...thoughful, kind, inventive and protective. We miss his physical presence and companionship extremely, but somehow, even now when there are crises in our lives, Donn somehow seems to be near and able to help. As a little girl, I learned most of the main lessons of getting along in life, and enjoying life in my brother Donn's company and I will always be grateful.

Joan Lando

From David Lando, one of the last photos of Donn

Donn, Joan and I were 9, 7 and 5 when our father one night served us bread and water for dinner then one by one methodically gave us the beating of our lives.  This was when Donn at 9 years old became our guardian and surrogate father.  Several months after the beating I set fire to the comic section of a stack of newspapers in the garage to watch the colorful flames.  The fire raged out of control and I ran to the house.  That night our father lined us up in the garage, belt in hand, and asked the guilty one to step forward.  Knowing full well I had set the fire, Donn and Joan both stepped forward to take my beating. Their love and bond with me never wavered.

Ten years later in North Carolina I failed the 10th grade and was headed for street life.  My mother and Donn decided I needed the discipline of my father.  Donn, 19, drove me back to California in his 65 Chevy Implala.  He got a job with a janitorial service and stayed with me, renting a room at our father's house.  He later got a better job designing and selling ads for a magazine in San Francisco.  Things were improving so he got a place of his own.  The following year I was arrested at an antiwar demonstration.  After 2 days in juvenile hall my father congratulated me and brought me home. Donn had come over to see how I was doing.  Later that evening my father became infuriated when I said that my mother had gotten me out of juvenile hall.  He hollered at me to leave the house.  Donn and I went to my room and started packing.  My father then blocked the doorway and said I would not be leaving. Donn told him we were leaving. His reply was, "Over my prostrated body".  Dad was a weight lifter who could press his own weight of 200 pounds. I asked Donn not to let him hurt me. Donn charged my father knocking him out of the doorway and onto the floor.  They wrestled over the furniture and across the room.  Donn got the upper hand.  As we drove away Donn shouted, "I knew I could beat him!"  It meant a lot to both of us.

The last time I saw Donn was in Central America where I had gotten work as the administrator of a 2,000 acre farm. Donn had come down to visit and possibly find a farm administrator position also.  We were having serious problems with land squatters.  It had escalated to the point where 40 armed squatters were waiting for us at a meeting in a cantina on the far side of the property.  Donn advised me not to go. The previous year a farm administrator was assassinated leaving a similar meeting. I was resolved to go to the meeting, determined not to back down. Seeing he could not change my mind Donn joined me, he never wavered.  The local mayor, my foreman, Donn and I gathered weapons to defend ourselves then crammed ourselves into a Landrover and headed out.  We soon realized we were way outnumbered.  We decided to leave our weapons in the jeep and enter unarmed. By the grace of God the meeting went smoothly and we returned unharmed.

Several months later Donn had an epileptic seizure in the corral.  He was gasping and convulsing in the manure.  I hugged and shook him as his lips turned purple and his eyes went distant.  I shouted to him as he was slipping away.  He passed out.  When he recovered he had no memory of what had happened.

Three years later in Sacramento Donn had another seizure and died in his apartment with the dog he loved.  I miss Donn every day and constantly look to him for inspiration.  The bond between Donn, Joan and myself forged in our childhood is unbroken.

David Lando