Loss Of Friend Leaves Huge Void At Restaurant, In Life

Published: Sep 20, 2007

When I returned from a business trip to West Palm Beach Sept. 8, I went to the Pine Grove restaurant for my morning ritual - French toast, three slices of crisp bacon, one egg and multiple cups of coffee. Wendy, the hostess, asked, "Did you hear about Ken?"

"No," I said, "I was out of town for a few days."

It was not unusual for people to ask about my friend Ken. He was always into something noteworthy, daring and adventurous, whether it was meeting with Sheriff David Gee, helping the homeless, getting an award for noble causes, being interviewed by the evening news on television or teaching college courses I can't even pronounce.

Ken was always studying for his upcoming acting parts, fighting crime with his newspaper, The Crusader, and giving advice to lawyers. He was always helping people with problems, and he gave local politicians pure hell when he thought they were wrong.

So asking about Ken was pretty routine.

"Ken Donovan died Thursday night," Wendy said.

"What?" I asked.

When my brain finally factored what she had said, it was like time stood still, and I was on the back side of the moon in total disbelief and self-denial. Wow, my friend had died. I am still in total disbelief.

Ken had direct and immediate access to people, from the governor to the waitress who served his breakfast. He knew how to use his connections to influence people to do the right thing. His contacts were your contacts. He had this tremendous ability to make things happen. When he came to your aid, it was a secret between you and him - no advertising.

I met Ken about 10 years ago across the breakfast counter one morning. I immediately recognized there was something dynamically strange, wonderful, intellectual, warm-hearted and very inviting about this guy sipping on his coffee. Ken was an integral member of the breakfast counter, a bigger-than-life, 6-foot-2 blond man who knew just about everything and spoke with a pseudo-Polish and rich Irish accent that would turn on and off. His morning greeting of "the top of der morn' to ya" will be forever missing from the Pine Grove.

It would be years before I discovered this gentle giant's credentials. Things like three Purple Hearts, Bronze and Silver stars in Vietnam, being interviewed by Peter Jennings for his crime-fighting efforts in Tampa, having his own talk show and multiple advanced degrees, including doctorates. I also would learn about his professional basketball days with the Celtics.

When my Springfield College class group needed a technical adviser, Ken was more than eager to assist. With his leadership and direction, we earned an "A," the hardest I have ever earned. He held our feet to the fire with his high demands and expectations. Without him, I would have failed.

I am going to miss my friend Ken. I consider our association a once-in-a-lifetime blessing. The folks at The Pine Grove and thousands of others also will miss him.

Al McCray is a Tampa businessman and Springfield College student. Donovan died unexpectedly at his Tampa home Sept. 6. He was 58.