Donald Lee Thompson passed away on Friday, April 3rd, 2020, at the Towsley Village in Chelsea Retirement Community, with his devoted wife Christina at his side. Don was born on June 18, 1933, and grew up in rural Kansas during the dust bowl, where his love of classical music and his formation of a two person high school tennis team were somewhat of an anomaly. During the Korean War, he was stationed on Fire Island in Alaska as part of the US Air Force, and then went on to earn a BS in Mathematics and Psychology and do graduate work in Mathematics at Washburn University in Topeka, Kansas.
Don’s work with the Menninger Foundation in Topeka led to a move to Flint, Michigan, in 1968, where he worked as Head Biostatician at the Genesee County Community Mental Health agency. He met Christina Grissom at the agency and they were married on April 11, 1982. When Christina took over as the Executive Director of the Jackson-Hillsdale community mental health agency, Don was by her side, making sure computer systems were running smoothly. For two decades, he made weekly trips to the NUBS computer center at the University of Michigan, where the results from his data cards in Flint would run through the large mainframe computer and print on continuous green bar paper. He delighted in Christina’s multiple successes, including her PhD in Educational Psychology from the University of Michigan, and he never hesitated to tell people that she was the one who finally diagnosed his narcolepsy, helping him to understand his hypnagogic imagery that even psychiatrists at the Menninger Foundation could not explain.
Don and Chris retired to Crown Colony in Ft. Myers, Florida, in 2003, where they delighted their vacationing grandchildren with trips to the pool in their golf cart. Chris continued her myriad activities -- bridge, knitting, painting, pulling up and retiling floors, while Don played tennis. Even at 83, he played two hour games of singles tennis in the Florida heat. While Don was well remembered for his elaborate Halloween and Fourth of July celebrations (including stuffing multiple fireworks into a single paper bag, which he would light in the middle of a cornfield and run), as an older person, he would have cases of sparklers continuously lit for small guests but place them next to a large rain barrel of water so the sparklers could be put out safely.
Don’s friends and family will remember his energy and creativity. His replica of the Chartres Meditative labyrinth in the front yard of their Jackson home and his 20 foot geodesic domes, replicated in multiple locations, stood testament to a brilliant, creative, obsessive mind, unhindered by convention and fostered by the love of a wife who celebrated his uniqueness. They will remember his kindness. He was never too busy to hold the door open for you, remember your latest hobbies, or stock up on your favorite ice cream. But above all, they will remember his devotion to Christina. For 38 years, his highest ambition was to take care of his wife. In his final days at Towsley, staff reassured him that they could look after Christina after he was gone. In return, he told them, “Yes, but not as well as I do it.” No one doubted that to be true.
Don is survived by Christina Thompson (still living at Towsley), two daughters, Donelle Zinn (Doug), of Colorado Springs, and Rachel Thompson (John Rietz) of Ann Arbor, and two grandsons, Charlie and Sam Rietz. His brother Ray Thompson, who stood by him through Don’s early days of knife throwing practice, predeceased Don just weeks earlier.
For many years, Don would joke that he wanted a strong drink and a cigarette on his deathbed. More recently, he told us that 54 years into his recovery from alcoholism, the drink no longer felt necessary. He also liked to describe his hypnagogic images for us, particularly at times of extreme emotion. In his final hours, with Christina by his side, we can only imagine what a cacophony of Beethoven sonatas and hypnagogic imagery must have accompanied his death. We hope it was spectacular.
