Donald J. Lindstrom, 85, of Spearfish, SD, passed away on March 17, 2011, after a brief struggle with colon cancer. Mourning his loss is his immediate family: Jackie Lindstrom, the love of his life, to whom he was married for 60 years; his son, John (affectionately called "Q"), captain with Delta Airlines and cherished bingo-caller at the Whitewood Senior Center; his daughter-in-law and buddy, Brenda, keeper of the Q's homestead in Whitewood; his other son, David, who lives and ministers in Chicago's African American and Latino neighborhoods; and granddaughter, Vanessa, who lives in Milwaukee and teaches in economically deprived, African American school districts.

Don proudly served in the Navy in the South Pacific, in WWII. His family was his pride and joy. And being Swedish, coffee flowed in his veins. Of those folks we know who make their family, friends, and guests comfortable and happy, no matter the personal sacrifice, Don set the standard.

Jackie and Don supported one another in their creativity as artists, their love of country dance, Don's interests in antiques, Jackie's passion for horses and writing. Creativity has defined Don and Jackie's lives, whether building a ranch in Minnesota, training and showing horses, or planning and hosting the wonderful yearly "Easter Bash" for family and friends.

Nine years ago, Don and Jackie, along with Q and Brenda, pulled-up roots and moved from Minneapolis to the Black Hills. This provided a magnificent experience for them all. To hear Don describe it, one might wonder whether the Bible had it right - maybe the Garden of Eden was in South Dakota. They joined the First Presbyterian Church of Whitewood, SD, and have experienced the meaning of "family" in ways never imagined. Pastor Steve Agan, his wife, Janell, and the folks in the church continue to be a source of love and strength. While the countless folks who have cared deeply for the Lindstroms can't be named here, Don would at least want to call out a special mention for their good friends, Stan and Sharon Holsclaw.

How do we remember Don? Through the expressions of children who watched him in parades as an Aqua Jesters clown, or for Halloween, as Uncle Fester; or as he made their scribbles on paper come alive; or as they examined Don's bowed legs and cowboy hat, asking, "Are you a real cowboy?" We saw his face glow as he country-danced with Jackie, or told you the stories of his antique toys that he had restored, or as he panned for gold, or as he worked at his lottery scratch-and-play, exclaiming, "I won a dollar!" We see him searching for relics with metal-detectors, with Stan; or coming up from the valley, sweating, full of mosquito bites, after cutting eternally growing weeds that shorted the electric fences for the horses. We remember him teaching his kids to fish on Forest Lake and stopping for cinnamon toast at his favorite restaurant; or painting clouds on the ceiling and walls of his niece, Alison's baby's room - his perfection rivaling that of Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel. Mention, "Deadwood," and he had his boots on, waiting to take on those slot machines - at 4 a.m., he and Brenda were just warming up. We have images of him caked with snow while plowing the drive during blizzards, or lost in piles of artifacts at the High Plains Western Heritage Center, researching and cataloging, displaying his paintings, contributing art exhibits - if you haven't yet seen the "Lindstrom Mine Shaft," you need to. We remember how he played with the family dog, Pickett, and how he cried at the deaths of so many dogs. We hear him saying, "I love you," to his granddaughter, or yelling, "Jackie! Where did you put the jelly?! David's phone number?! my glasses?!..." - whatever it was, it was always in arm's reach. We feel his excitement for breakfasts with friends from the Whitewood church after the service. We look through his sketch books and envision him scribbling ink drawings, and from them, creating works of art that expressed his burning desire to tell the world to slow down and to enjoy the simple wonder that is all around.

Husband, dad, grandpa, uncle, friend. You'll never leave our hearts.

A memorial service will be held Friday, March 25, 2011, at 11:00 a.m. at the First Presbyterian Church in Whitewood with Pastor Steve Agan and Rev. Howard "Skip" Smith officiating. A private family inurnment will be held at Black Hills National Cemetery.

In lieu of flowers, memorials have been established to the First Presbyterian Church of Whitewood and to Hospice of the Northern Hills.