Donald Jon Cann

The Grand Adventure Begins

Lt. Col. Donald J. Cann began his life appropriately on Halloween in 1938 — a day well-suited for a man who would spend 87 years delighting in surprise, mischief, and good stories. On March 1, 2026, he took his final journey while on a road trip — exactly where he would have wanted to be — somewhere between a new destination and a promising local restaurant.

He did not so much pass away as set off ahead of us, itinerary in hand.

The Boy Who Explored Everything

Long before he flew missions or handed out travel spreadsheets, Don was roaming fishing banks, hiking wooded trails, catching fireflies in jars, exploring abandoned buildings with his buddies — and dreaming about fast cars. Curiosity wasn’t a phase; it was his operating system. He walked fast even then. If you couldn’t keep up, that was on you.

That same restless boy also found a lifelong hero in Elvis Presley. To Don, Elvis wasn’t just a singer — he was swagger, horsepower, and a little righteous rebellion. The spirit that chased fireflies and loved a fast engine never left him.

The Airman and the Soldier

Don served his country with quiet courage and steadfast dedication. He flew more than 300 B-52 missions during the Vietnam War, a sobering chapter he carried with humility. In his final days, he gently compared himself to the soldier in Old Soldiers Never Die (often remembered by its refrain, “old soldiers never die, they just fade away”), saying with characteristic acceptance that he was “fading away.”

He also served as Air Attaché in Thailand and Egypt, roles that suited both his diplomatic mind and his love of seeing the world. After retiring from active duty, he continued shaping young leaders as an Air Force ROTC instructor in Hawaii and later managed the embassy commissary in Argentina and was active in the coin show circuit — because even in civilian life, he liked to be where things were happening.

The Traveler (and Culinary Critic)

If there were a frequent traveler hall of fame, Don would have platinum status for eternity.

He loved traveling not casually, but professionally. Every trip came with a detailed itinerary distributed to all involved (and sometimes to those who weren’t). He knew where the bargains were, where the hidden gems were, and which roadside stand had the best dessert within a 200-mile radius.

He loved food with democratic enthusiasm — he would try anything once and most things twice. Clams, however, were sacred. Iced tea required not one lemon, not two, but “many lemons,” as though citrus itself were a strategic necessity.

A road trip with Don meant adventure, education, snacks, and savings.

The Family Shark

Don loved his family with energy and playfulness. In a game of Sharks and Minnows, he was always the shark. Always.

His quick stride made him formidable, and his laughter made him unforgettable. His grandchildren — Jason, Amber, Angie, Justin, Krista, Maia, Cory, Preston, Alyssa, James, Andrew, Adriana, Trish, Grace, Trinity, Elijah, Brandon, Brennan, and Brianna — along with his great-grandchildren Lillie, Aubree, Harrison, little Olive, McKenzie, and Ellie, knew him as a man who moved fast, laughed easily, and took games very seriously.

He is survived by his children Kerry and wife Patricia, Sean, Candi, Kelly, and Lynn, and his stepchildren Cassie, Philipp, and Cybill. He was preceded in death by his beloved son Kelly; his parents Joe and Marie; John and Ted; and his siblings Bob, Roy, Roger, George, and Nancy.

He was married for 19 years to Joyce B. Cann, who shared in many of his journeys.

The Scholar, Collector, and Debater

Don earned his master’s degree in anthropology from the University of Guam and studied at the Defense Language Institute, because learning was simply part of how he engaged with the world.

He was also a collector — not casually, but comprehensively. Coins, jade, curiosities, treasures from here and abroad. If it could fit in a suitcase, it could probably fit in his collection.

A lifelong Republican, he loved a spirited political debate. He sometimes participated in the Unitarian church, proud to wrestle with ideas and conversation. He was also a devoted Rotarian in Hawaii and a member of the Mount Vernon Coffee Club in Sumter, South Carolina — places where conversation flowed freely and stories grew better with each telling.

The Legacy He Leaves

Don leaves behind a family that knows how to plan a trip properly, how to debate without fear, how to chase adventure, and how to be the shark when the moment calls for it.

He leaves behind memories of laughter, maps marked in ink, lemon-heavy iced teas, clams by the bucket, hats tipped in greeting, and a life lived fully.

Old soldiers may fade away, but the stories they leave behind do not.

And somewhere, we trust, there is a well-organized itinerary waiting — with excellent food, unbeatable bargains, and just enough time to explore.

Dad, you embraced life and showered your family with that giftof exploration; life was not a challenge but an adventure. I know in heaven there will be an Angel yelling out “Don, wait for me—I can’t catch up” as you undoubtedly lead the way through the gates on your new quest of discovery. We will miss you, and the void left by your sudden departure can never truly be filled, but the memories you created, and adventures you shared will live on in us and those you have touched.

Love You Daddy!

In lieu of flowers please consider a memorial contribution to offset Donald's transportation expenses to the Arlington National Cemetery.