Remembering Don Etes
April 16, 1939 – November 21, 2006If I had to give a title to my remembrance of Don, I would call it, "You Can Make a Difference." I heard Don use this phrase countless times over our 28 years together. It was the philosophy he believed in and practiced his whole life. I never met a person so full of energy, creativity, intuition, compassion, and amazing abilities. And he worked at it. Unbelievably, when Don was a child, he had a speech impediment and a problem reading out loud. Today we would probably call it a learning disability. He paid for speech lessons in high school by mowing the lawn of two local schoolteachers and overcame these problems, testing out in the upper 5% of the nation when he graduated from high school. He never stopped going to school and used the G.I. Bill to its fullest advantage. His studies and research at Cambridge in England contributed to the Honorary PhD he received for developing a whole new field of chemistry. This led to his pioneering efforts in disposable medical plastics for hospitals and to the development of new products in the ostomy field that are still being used by patients today.
Don was an avid reader and passionate about the importance of a good education. In fact, one of the earliest meetings about starting a junior college in McHenry County was discussed in his office in Crystal Lake, and he was always interested in the college and it growth. Over the course of his childhood, Don went to 13 different schools, many of them one-room school-houses. He always believed that being in a room with children of all ages was beneficial, and that he, as a younger child, benefited from the lessons taught to the older students. He attended Harvard High School and then graduated from North Boone. As the family moved from farmhouse to farmhouse, his talented mother Mabel would roll up her sleeves and paint and wallpaper a drab building, making it into a bright and cheerful home. Don was her helper, and he learned how to accomplish things at her side.
Growing up on a farm in Illinois taught him many lessons that he would later use throughout his life, one of them being the value of hard work. He had a natural ability to communicate with animals, and his friend Duane will testify that he once saw a butterfly sit on Don’s shoulder, accompany them to the hardware store (to the shock of the salesperson) and then home again. Whether it was a dog, rooster, rabbit, or Nicole’s independent cat named Smokey, he had a way with them that was amazing.
With his chemistry and engineering background, Don helped to develop the foam cushions for the Apollo 13 spacecraft. He never forgot where he came from, and he always thought it was fascinating to have been born into an era that allowed him to go from driving a horse and two-row corn plow to doing research on the space program.
Everyone who knew Don knew him from a slightly different perspective. Some knew him as an inventor with over 60 patents. Some as a grower, landscaper and florist. Others knew him as an artist, designer, framer and art restorer. And he could talk for hours about his favorite subjects: fly fishing and gourmet cooking. His idea of a perfect day, if you could tear him away from his beloved work, was to drive up to Port Washington, Wisconsin, north of Milwaukee, and fish his heart away. Second to fishing, Don loved cooking. His friends often requested he bake one of his famous apple pies or cheesecakes for them, and he was always happy to oblige. Every year he cooked a marvelous Thanksgiving dinner, complete with all the trimmings.
Don was a spiritual person: a churchgoing Catholic who also valued the philosophy of the Quakers and was interested and knowledgeable about Judaism, Buddhism and Islam as well. Not many people know that he was a student at a Methodist seminary early in his life before he decided on another path. His concern for people, and his desire to help them, was evident in his daily actions.
Most of all, Don loved his family and friends. His daughter Elizabeth and son Kent were the lights of his life. When Dianne and David came into the family, he happily accepted them as if they were his own children. He was so proud of all of them. When the kids married, the family grew bigger. Then along came John, Jessica, Megan, Nicole, and Matthew to round out the crew and increase the fun. Coming from a family of five, and a very large extended family, Don had a close relationship with his brother Jim and sister-in-law Linda and their families. The Etes relatives still have a summer picnic reunion every year in Oregon, Illinois, but it won’t be the same next year without Don.
Don’s friends knew him as someone who was honest, straightforward, and a man who pulled no punches. People sought him out because they knew if they asked him a question, he would give them a straight answer. His humor and story telling were a major part of his congenial personality, and he always considered himself blessed to have these special relationships with his family and friends.
As his wife of 23 years, it was my privilege to watch him on a first-hand basis as he lived the philosophy, "You can make a difference." He touched people on a very personal level, and his positive attitude and encouragement headed many of them down pathways they never expected to take. Owning The Atrium Flower Shop for 14 years in Crystal Lake and getting a Master’s Degree in Education last year are perfect examples of Don’s influence on my own life. I wouldn’t have dared to undertake either of them without his encouragement and support.
In his business of designing medical products, Don had close contact with physicians, nurses and healthcare workers. He enjoyed developing ways to make their work and their patients’ lives better. In a strange twist of fate, it was the skill and caring of doctors and healthcare workers who allowed him to extend his life for the past seven and a half years, something I am eternally grateful for.
A world without Don is still unimaginable to me, but somehow I know that he will continue to be a very real presence in my daily life. He will be urging me to move forward and make a difference in the lives of others. And when I feel overwhelmed and like I can’t go on, he will be whispering in my ear, "Come on, you can do it. I know you can do it." And this is the legacy that he has left to us all.
Gloria Étés
November, 2006