Don Flor...

My Dad passed away on April 13, 2025, at the age of 83.

He was deeply loved by his family—his wife, children, grandchildren, and so many others—because he lived with a heart wide open, treating everyone like family.

He lived an extraordinary life marked by perseverance. He faced many challenges and hardships and overcame them all until, in the end, God gave him the grace to pass peacefully, with minimal pain—just as he had hoped.

Coming from very humble beginnings, he achieved great things despite facing one obstacle after another. He quit high school to support himself and help his family, taking a job at a “rock plant” in the scorching California high desert, where temperatures often reached 120 degrees. He literally used a sledgehammer to break apart massive boulders that would be fed into machines used to produce the materials for our roads.

From those grueling days under the sun, he dreamed bigger—and rose from that backbreaking labor to eventually build a global manufacturing company that produced the very same kind of equipment he once fed rocks into as a teenager. From rock breaker to CEO. You talk about perseverance and vision!

Later, a worldwide copper market crash destroyed the business he had dedicated his life to building. At age 60, with no formal education and no backup plan, he was left without a way to support himself or my mom. It was so bad that one person said at the time, “If he needs to flip burgers to make a living, then that is what he is going to have to do.”

For me, that was not going to happen. So even though he had zero experience in the field and barely knew how to turn on a computer, he joined me in my technology company. Because he had no experience, the only thing available for him to do was the most entry-level job: cold-calling for sales leads.

Once again, this incredible man rose through sheer will. He learned, adapted, and eventually took over and helped build that company into a national leader in its industry. From not knowing how to turn on a computer to leading tech teams across the globe. Perseverance and vision—again.

Then came another storm. The COVID-19 pandemic devastated the industry we served, nearly shutting down the business. But even in his 80s, my dad fought tooth and nail to rebuild—to create something new, simply to provide for himself and his wife. And he did.

For most of his life, he was strong and healthy, able to overcome physical pain with grit. But eventually, his health declined, and this time, the challenge proved too much. He lost the will to live. For a man with such an unbreakable will, that says everything about the pain he faced.

As he lay in his hospital bed, completely incoherent and dependent on machines, my mom was barely able to communicate with him about whether he wanted to continue living on the machine—to which he was able to slightly nod his head “no.”

He made the decision he had always spoken of: that if he ever reached a point where he couldn’t live without medical assistance, he wanted the plug pulled. And so, they did.

But even then, his stubborn body refused to give up. And then… a miracle. He suddenly became coherent again—speaking clearly, reasoning, and asking my mom and sister to contact his loved ones, so he could share his final words. He knew the end was near and wanted to say goodbye.

I will never forget the final call I had with him—it will stay with me forever.

I was in Bangkok, Thailand, at a jazz club around 1:00 a.m., soaking in the music, when I got the call. I stepped outside into the thick, sweltering night air, standing in an alley, FaceTiming with my dad. He told me he was ready to go. I told him to trust in God—that if it was his time, we were at peace, but I also believed God may still have more in store for him. He told me, “I’ll see you on the other side.” We exchanged our love, and the call ended.

I returned to the club with peace in my heart—trusting that either God would take him home gently or allow him to remain for a greater purpose, even if it meant more struggle.

The next morning, I decided to help him find that greater purpose—to help him reconnect to the passion he had for marriage counseling. For those who knew my dad, you know how devoted he was to helping couples. He spent years studying the keys to successful marriage, teaching classes, and offering heartfelt counseling that saved marriages and prepared couples for the journey ahead.

I reached out to one of his closest friends and started a plan to gather stories and testimonies about the ways he had helped them—hoping it might give him a renewed purpose and maybe even a reason to fight. A few days later, however, God granted him what he had asked for—to pass peacefully “to the other side.”

That wasn’t my will. I believed he still had more to do. But God’s will—and my Dad’s will—prevailed. And I am at peace.

My dad loved teaching. He loved sharing what he had learned, especially his mistakes, in hopes that others wouldn’t repeat them. He was never about presenting a perfect image—quite the opposite. He was real. Honest. Raw. Like when Jesus looked at Nathanael and said, “Here truly is an Israelite in whom there is no deceit” (John 1:47). That was my dad. No filter. No fluff. Just truth.

“I praise you, Father… because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children.” – Matthew 11:25

My dad never graduated from high school, but he had the wisdom of a child—pure, straightforward, and profound. He didn’t use fancy words, but he shared life-changing truths with anyone who would listen.

That’s the wisdom the world needs today.

I had hoped this final chapter of his life would be dedicated to him sharing more of that wisdom, and I was eager to help him do just that. Since he chose not to continue that chapter, and God allowed it, I’ve decided to let him speak through me—and through others—to continue his legacy and hopefully help as many as possible with his simple yet profound truths.

“What Would Don Say?”

“What would Grandpa say?”

“What would Don say?”

Maybe this is the better final chapter. God’s plans are always better than ours—if we just let Him work His wonders.

So with tears in my eyes, and a heart full of gratitude and love—both from and for my Dad—I dedicate to him, to you, and to God this website:

DonFlor.org – “What Would Don Say”

Please begin by reading the article “What Would My Dad Say” (link at the bottom of this page). I believe this first piece captures one of the most important lessons my dad taught again and again and is how he would want to start this next chapter of his life.

And if you feel moved to do so, you’ll find an email at the bottom of the article where you can send in your own stories. Whether you call it “What Would Don Say,” “What Would Grandpa Say,” or simply “What Would Don Say”—it’s welcome.

My dad treated so many like his own children, so feel free to call him Dad.

Your story matters. It doesn’t have to be polished or grammatically perfect—it just needs to come from the heart.

We’ll share them all on the website and his Facebook page.

May this become a lasting tribute to a man whose wisdom on life and marriage was simple yet very profound.