Daniel R. Beaudoin

Daniel R. Beaudoin

If you think you're cold, you've never been a well digger's rear end in the Klondike. If you're looking for sympathy, you can find it in the dictionary between shitake and syphilis. Daniel Roland Beaudoin, and that's "Big D" to you, entered this world the same way he left it (July 11th, 2020), on his own terms. The tail doesn't wag the dog after all. On January 14th, 1926, a boy entered this world that grew to believe your word was your bond. That boy was my grandpa. A boy that was taught you measure a person's worth by the amount of work put forth by day's end. A man that found 17 wanting, requesting permission from Opal and Roddie that blessings be passed so duty could be served. Put him on the front lines you say; what are you, the village idiot? A government issued IQ test found my grandpa better suited breaking German and Japanese code—a fact he humbly kept to himself. On April 28th, 1951, he married the one person in this world that softened his edge and rounded his spirit, Berenice Elizabeth McMahon. That's my grandma. Following Big D's graduation from the University of Wisconsin on the G.I. Bill, where he lettered in basketball and baseball (1949), Roddie sought the help of his son in running R.E. Beaudoin & Son, the best damn construction company this side the Mississippi. If you've driven Wisconsin, you knew my grandpa's work. If you hit a pothole, it was probably asphalt. While it's true Big D leaves behind 8 great grandchildren, 9 grandchildren, Marge in Charge, Muy, Rod Pod, and Loader, I have no doubts that grandma's waiting at the pearly gates ready to give him a smack for telling someone they were uglier than a wagon full of fannies. Meanwhile, the Fella Boy saved him a seat at the bar, an old fashioned in hand—Brandy, sweet. You know, I'm going to miss my grandpa; a man whose generosity was silent, whose laugh was loud, and whose loyalty was boundless. He taught us the meaning of hard work and that family came first. He taught us that pompousness had no seat at the table, bragging was a fool's game. He taught us you call a spade a spade, unless you're on the worksite, then it's just a gosh darn shovel. Ultimately, my grandpa spoke his mind, but his actions spoke volumes. He was unapologetically bold and unapologetically honest. He taught us to speak our truth and trust our morals. So the way I see it, if this obituary wasn't your cup a tea, I've got news for you, Mister, Big D wasn't one for following protocol or worrying much of what others thought. And that's quite alright with me. Gone but never forgotten. For anyone interested in making a donation in Daniel's memory, please see the information below:

Checks can be made out to Vitas Health Care (VCC) & sent to:

Vitas Health Care (VCC)

ATTN: Arelene Sawyer

PO Box 1330

Lecanto, FL 34460