Memorial Tribute — Tom Bridgeman — April 22, 2005

I cannot comment on Doug’s early years or his lifetime of achievements. I can only say that Doug was my best friend. At this point I picture a scene from the end of the movie ‘Spartacus’ with people standing up and saying “Doug was my best friend! …No, he was MY best friend!” I’m just curious… If now or at some point in your life you considered Doug to be your best friend, please stand up. (A lot of people stand)

I thought so. There was nothing ordinary about Doug. He had countless gifts, not the least of which was his capacity to form deep and lasting friendships.

I met Doug when we were both 22 years old, when we arrived freshly scrubbed and full of idealism for our two-year stint in the Peace Corps in Swaziland, Southern Africa. Within a week or two of our arrival and barely speaking a word of the language, Doug and I were assigned to spend a week visiting a school on the other side of the country. In this completely exotic and alien world, just getting there was a challenge. Hitchhiking and riding buses across Swaziland, we formed a bond that has lasted twenty years.

We had a lot of adventures in Africa. Some of these highlight Doug’s less than practical nature. Everyone in our Peace Corps group – about 30 people – had brought a backpack for traveling around Swaziland and Southern Africa. But not Doug. Doug brought a hard-shell Samsonite suitcase. One time Doug and I missed the last bus for the village we were visiting and we had to walk the last stretch. We started walking as the sky grew dark. Thirteen miles down a dirt road, seeing only by starlight, kind of nervous, and taking turns lugging that damned suitcase. Carrying it first with one arm, then the other, then on our heads, and finally dragging it through the dirt with a rope - the whole time alternating between cursing and laughing.

Another time, a group of us rented a van in Johannesburg and went for a safari in Botswana. Far out in the bush of Botswana, just after dusk, we were all kind of drowsy and it was Doug’s turn to drive. The headlights picked up a large animal standing in the road. Doug slowed down, honked the horn and shouted “Get off the road you dumb cow!” Well, the ‘cow’ leaped about 30feet, sailing over the road, into the bush and it was gone. The ‘cow’ was a lion, and it was the only one we saw the whole trip.

That was Doug on safari. Ask the other former Peace Corps volunteers who are here today – we all have a set of stories under the heading ‘Doug in Africa.’ We were all schoolteachers and all week long we had to be pillars of respectability and decorum, which is tough when you are 22-23. So on weekends we would get together at each others’ houses and have parties. We would all bring something to cook – in Doug’s case, sticks of butter, cloves of garlic, and mushrooms. Doug would bring a Frisbee. Someone else would bring a hacky sack and we would eat and play until dark. Then we would put the batteries into the boom box, light some candles – and then we would dance. Who was in charge of the music? Doug. We would dance until we couldn’t dance anymore, and one by one we would fall exhausted into our sleeping bags. And who would be the last person left standing on the dance floor? Doug, of course. I think Doug believed that if you played great music loud enough, if you hit a racquetball hard enough, and if you just danced long enough, you could keep most of your worries at bay.

To a casual observer then, Doug could look like a perpetual motion machine. But he wasn’t. The quiet side of Doug was a person who had a brilliant intellect and a deep curiosity for everything, a quality that made him both a great researcher and a great friend. Doug was a great listener. He wanted to know what made you tick. Among the greatest gifts of this very gifted man was the ability to see the qualities that you had and to draw them out of you. And he had perhaps an even greater gift, the ability to see your shortcomings and to look past them as though they didn’t matter. I think this is really why he had so many friends and so many people loved him.

Doug put his friendship into action. If you needed him to fly halfway across the country to be at your side, you knew he would be there. And his door was always open. He and Sherry were great hosts, a quality I can see that they got from their parents. Doug and Sherry both have awesome families, and together they will get through this.

I said earlier that I was one of many for whom Doug was their best friend. But Doug himself had only one best friend, and that was Sherry. To see them together was to witness a mighty love, a love that does not end here, but goes on.

There are a lot of stories yet to be told about Doug. My stories mainly fall under the heading “Doug in Africa.” Your stories may fall into the category of “Doug in high school”, “Doug at Stanford”, “Doug in medical school” or others. As they grow up, I look forward to telling Natalie and Gina my stories about their dad. I hope you will too. Doug was well on his way to becoming legendary, but now its official – “The Legend of Doug” starts today.