Doug cared deeply about his friends and especially his family. He was devoted to his wife, Melinda, and their grown son, Jackson -- his beautiful boy. No father was ever more proud or available to a son.
The public knew Doug primarily as cartoon boy. Funny Doug could make you laugh. Gimlet-eyed Doug could make you cringe. But the private Doug was a deep diver, a thinker of exquisite dimension who was most concerned with the profound tragedy of human existence. "How do any of us get through it?" he often wondered aloud.
He felt it was the artist's assignment to find out -- "to snare the spirits of mankind in nets of magic," as Wolfe put it.
A champion of freedom, Doug was fascinated by the sweep of history and the great human movements that define civilization. He was riveted by the motivations that compel people either to cowardice or courage and explored those themes in his novels.
The courage Doug bore witness to through his characters also found lodging in his brave heart. He was fearless against authority and hypocrisy. He stood fast when fundamentalists of all stripes issued death threats because of his cartoons. He was undaunted in defending the First Amendment, which he recognized as the foundation for all other freedoms.
I've never known anyone who wanted to live more than Doug did. He resented death and despised the terrorist culture of death now bearing down on the West. He was a warrior, but also a sweetheart, who always urged his friends to buckle their seatbelts and keep both hands on the wheel.
"People don't know anything anymore," he would say. "We have to stay alive so that we can keep getting the word out. Just get it out there."
"Out there" was the great big world, so in need of Doug's rare gifts, but ultimately inadequate to contain his immense spirit.
May his legacy spread like kudzu.