There will be so many amazingly wonderful thoughts, memories and teachings that he has left us all with, but as a fellow Texan I thought I would share some of “our” stories.
He and I found a common bond of growing up in the countryside of Texas, to his incredible stories of leaving home to be a wild cat in the southeast oil fields. He had this true gentleman spirit that he exuded in everything he said and touched, but I also think of the experiences that shaped him. He told of those wild days in New Orleans, working at a less than desirable hotel in the Quarter. I remember one night at dinner, he shocked the entire table by professing his love of the typeface Hobo.
A mixture of ruckus laughter as well as gasps of horror filled the air. He was THE master in his craft, yet able to see the beauty of the ugly. I was speaking to a close friend on this day of Doyald’s passing. I was trying to explain the gravity of this loss to our community. There are not words that can be expressed to the “eye” we have seen fade. He gave the gift of loving language and letterforms to generations of designers, we all have his teachings within in us at some level. There is a simply a void where he stood that will never be replaced.