Donald “Donnie” S. Reeves
Donald Scott Reeves passed away peacefully at the age of 83 on Saturday, May 24, in Waynesville, N.C.
Known to his family as Donnie or Doe Doe, he was a storyteller, jokester, brother, favorite uncle, and father — a man who didn’t love to stay in one place for too long.
Donnie was born in Waynesville in 1941 to Samuel Scott Reeves and Frances Hollifield. He, along with his older sister Patricia Whitner rode bikes, swung on vines over creeks, roller-skated, pushed each other through briar patches, fought, made up, and laughed a lot.
When Donnie was far too young to drive, he sat on a phone book, wood blocks tied to his feet, and drove his father, who ran illegal moonshine over the mountain pass into Tennessee.
At 17, Donnie ran off and joined the Marines. He served in Japan, and helped build airstrips in Korea before the Vietnam War. While stationed in Hawaii, Donnie climbed palm trees for coconuts and got so sunburned he was nearly court-martialed.
He stomped around Hollywood and West Covina in Southern California. At Camp Pendleton in San Diego, while operating a crane, he accidentally knocked into a string of power lines — the shock blew his socks off, threw him from the crane, and knocked out power on the entire base. Donnie recalled the angry general running toward him with a face so red he thought the man might burst into flames.
When Donnie returned to Waynesville after his service, his sister Patricia had married William Whitner II. Donnie and William became like brothers, and he was loved by his nieces and nephew: Melanie Curtis, Tracy Long and Bill Whitner III. The nickname “Doe Doe” came about because the kids couldn’t fully pronounce “Donald.”
Doe Doe met Joanna Johnson in 1970. The two had slightly different stories about how they met. Here’s Doe Doe’s version: he was driving by her apartment near Lake Junaluska, when he first spotted her. She was sunbathing on her porch. He stopped his car, went over and introduced himself. They hung out for three days straight. They married in 1972, and had two daughters: Leone Anne Reeves and Sarah Elizabeth Reeves.
Donnie had many different jobs, but they often centered around cars, and driving. He was a long-haul truck driver for many years. Donnie described wild experiences on the road. In Texas, he once encountered a highway that appeared black as far as he could see — come to fund out it was a tarantula migration! Once, Donnie woke up in the driver’s seat of his 13-wheeler and was in the middle of the Utah Salt Flats. He had fallen asleep at the wheel, and the truck had miraculously rolled a mile off-road without hitting anything before coming to a stop. Naturally, he turned the truck around and followed its tracks back to the highway.
In 1989, Doe Doe, Joanna and the kids moved to Minneapolis, MN to live with Joanna’s parents, Richard and Leone Johnson. It was here Doe Doe landed his dream job at the United States Post Office — inspired by his brother-in-law William and supported by his father-in-law Richard. Doe Doe started off as a mail carrier and eventually retired as a “Jockey”. At one point he carried mail through his own neighborhood. His daughters and all their friends called him “Ducky”, because he shared his name with Donald Duck.
In 2003, Donnie took a road trip to Las Vegas, where he won just enough money to buy his 23-year-old daughter, Leone, her first car. That began a friendship between them, leading to another adventure in 2007: Leone and a friend took Donnie with them on a Road Trip from Chicago all the way down Route 66 to San Pedro, CA. They visited the Grand Canyon on that trip — and even seasoned truck driver Donnie was impressed! He began telling Leone that he wanted to go on a P.R.T. — Permanent Road Trip.
Doe Doe moved back to Waynesville in 2004 to live with his sister Pat. He volunteered at the Veterans Hospital in Asheville, driving disabled veterans to their appointments — and he loved it. Pat and Doe Doe continued their lifelong sibling dynamic: arguing, getting over it, and laughing a lot.
At one point, they began scaring each other with the vine top of a tomato, which looked like a big ol’ spider. It’s hard to explain how it kept working, but they took turns hiding the tomato vine on chairs, pillows, counters, under blankets, and even in the fridge — scaring the bejesus out of each other each time.
Donnie’s daughter Leone visited often. Sometime in the 2010s, Donnie and Leone decided to drive the old mountain pass to Tennessee that he’d once used to run moonshine as a kid. It was an epic road trip: they narrowly escaped being bitten by a Diamondback, had a gun pulled on them, met some high mountain “purple people,” and ALMOST bought an El Camino.
Cheers to you Donnie! We will miss you, and we hope you enjoy your Permanent Road Trip in the sky!
Donald is survived by his sister Patricia and her children Melanie, Tracy, and Bill; his former wife Joanna; his daughters Leone and Sarah; and his grandchildren Mariah and Rock. He was preceded in death by his sister Debbie and his daughter Anne Marie.