To know Doyald was to be his student. His life was rich with experience, understanding and deeply felt emotions. A relationship with him meant an education in taste and over the years of our friendship he lovingly showed me his world.
Whether he talked about script fonts, teaching, movies, music, recipes, relationships, history, or literature, he articulated complex thoughts with the clarity and ease of one of his curves. What a man he was. A gentle man. Even in his last months, when he struggled to walk 20 feet without a rest, he’d still come around to open my car door for me. These small things represent so much about how Doyald navigated his life with passion, dedication, deep meaning and respect.
Doyald was a true man of letters—and of loves. But if you really knew him, he gave you the gift of his razor sharp wit. That’s when I really started learning. He could slice right though hubris and cut it into a dozen perfectly spaced pieces with ruthless riposte.
I had the honor of knowing Doyald as a close friend. The cadence of his voice will resonate in my heart for many years to come. His made an indelible mark on my life and I was truly blessed to know him.