Don Bain

Andrew Donald Bain (Don) –

In 1980, my older brother, Don, was diagnosed with pseudo-masticular carcinoma. That’s Cancer, with a capital C. Three years older than my twin brother and me, Don was like many older brothers and first-borns. He was perfect! Please understand that, all these years later, I still believe he was perfect. Mom believes he was perfect. Dad believed he was perfect. I suppose that Don was not really perfect, he just seemed like it. He was a good looking guy, a good athlete, had the lead in all the school plays, got great grades, and dated the best looking girls. He played the piano by ear and could sing just as well. He was funny, caring, and understanding. He wrote beautifully. I idolized him. Don played football, so I played football. Don acted in our high-school plays, so I acted (poorly, I might add) in our high-school plays. When he was a senior and I was a freshman, Don played the Scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz. I auditioned for, and got, a bit part as a Winkie. For those of you who are not familiar with the original stage version of the show, the Winkie was modified slightly in the more famous movie to be the wicked witch’s tall green guards. These were then augmented with the flying monkeys. Imagine a freshman boy in high school, dressed entirely in yellow (not green), including yellow tights, and bounding around the stage like a crazed canary. You get the picture. Don was a star. I was a bit player, but willing to thoroughly embarrass myself to be around him. I cannot remember a time in my life that I laughed more and enjoyed myself more than in the rehearsals and performances of that high school production with Don. I can still do the better part of each of his songs and lines. In my eyes, he WAS perfect and I wanted to be just like him.

After one year of college, Don transferred from Miami of Ohio to Indiana University to join his high school sweetheart Lynne, who, not surprisingly, played the part of Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz. A year later, they were married, with only reluctant approval from Mom and Dad, principally because they were so young. They finished college. Don joined the Navy as an Officer and followed his Navy stint with Law School. Following Law School, Don clerked for U.S. District Court Judge, S. Hugh Dillon in Indianapolis. Everything was coming up roses for my perfect big brother. Then, as in most lives, things began to change.

Don and Lynne were growing up and, predictably, growing apart. Divorce soon followed with no children to complicate the issues. Mildly disheartened with his “failed” marriage, Don moved to Los Angeles, joining my twin brother, Bob, in the westward movement of the Bain family and started his career as an attorney. He was 29.

Around Christmas time, slightly more than a year into his new career and new life, Don discovered a small lump in his neck, right at the jaw line. Not wanting to spoil the holiday, he waited until shortly after New Year’s Day to see a doctor. The doctor suggested that he keep an eye on it and scheduled an appointment three weeks later. By then, the lump was the size of a baseball. Surgery in late January was followed with radiation therapy. Those of us who were inclined to do so, prayed. The rest of the family crossed their fingers. In May, Don and Bob were standing in line waiting to order a hamburger at McDonalds. Bob looked at Don’s neck and asked, “it’s back, isn’t it?” The cancer had come back. By now, we knew it was in his lymphatic system and the prospects were dire. He moved home to Indiana from California in June. Coincidentally, I completed my tour with the U.S. Air Force that same month and moved back to Indiana to start my career working with Dad in the insurance business. Don lived, if you call slowly dying living, with Mom and Dad. We all watched in complete helplessness and despair as his health and his will to fight waned. Don died in October of 1981. He is still missed terribly by all who knew him.

Respectfully submitted,

Jim Bain (WLHS ’71)