James Doll

Tribute

My dad was one of those people who didn’t need to be loud to make an impact. He was quiet, laid-back, kind, and gentle, but also one of the strongest and hardest-working men I have ever known. He was well respected, had countless friends, and would do anything for the people he loved. He worked hard his entire life. He spent 27 years working at a sand plant before eventually becoming a locksmith. Even after retiring, he never really stopped helping. He helped me build my own successful locksmith business, and no matter how experienced I became, if I got stuck on something, I knew exactly who to call. Dad always knew what to do, and more importantly, he always answered. Some of my favorite memories are the simple ones. Growing up, weekends meant fishing, mushroom hunting, and being outside with Dad. He taught me to drive when I was around 13, taking me down country roads while he looked for wild asparagus growing in the ditches. I’ll probably never see wild asparagus without thinking of him sitting beside me. His house was always a fun place to be. He treated my friends like they were his own. He took us to carnivals, gave us spending money, and weekends often meant Blockbuster movies, snacks, and pizza. Looking back, I realize how much he did just to make sure we were happy and had fun. Family meant everything to Dad. He lived next door to his parents and was always there for them, especially as they got older. If something needed to be done, Dad did it. He took care of the yard, fixed things, helped people, and simply showed up. He was an amazing father, grandfather, and great-grandfather. He loved fishing, his Harley, shooting pool, going out with his friends, and having a few beers. He worked hard, but he knew how to enjoy life too. Dad rarely had to raise his voice. He was calm and easygoing, and people respected him because of the man he was, not because he demanded it. To me, though, he was more than all of those things. He was my hero. Growing up, I truly didn’t think my dad could do anything wrong. Even as an adult, part of me still believed Dad could fix anything—a lock, a problem, a bad day. For my entire life, he was just always there. That may be the hardest part of losing him. I never had to wonder if I could call Dad or if he would help me. I knew he would. I loved him more than I could ever put into words. I’m incredibly proud to be his daughter and proud of the life he lived and the man he was. I’ll miss his advice, his stories, fishing with him, and calling him when I’m stuck on a locksmith job. Most of all, I’ll miss simply knowing my dad was there. He worked hard. He took care of his family. He helped people. He enjoyed his life. And he raised a daughter who absolutely adored him. He was one freaking awesome man. I love you, Dad. Always.

Friends & Family