Obituaries

From life's menu, he'd always skip broccoli

By STEPHANIE HAYES
Published July 11, 2007

INVERNESS - Kenneth Doncaster knew what he liked.

Mondays and Fridays, he ate dinner at Ruby Tuesday in Inverness.

His booth? Always 704. His server? Always Melissa Giddings, 28. His order? Steak, mini-burgers or shrimp - always with french fries.

Giddings tended to Doncaster like a grandfather.

"You're getting broccoli," she'd say.

"I don't like broccoli."

"Tough."

Friday, he didn't come in. Doncaster died that day at 86, possibly of renal failure, his family said.

Behind the french fries, there was a rich history.

During World War II, Germans captured Doncaster in the Battle of the Bulge, imprisoning him for 99 days.

Doncaster came home, disabled from sleeping on concrete. A plaque in St. Petersburg's Williams Park listed him as both "missing" and "dead."

He wrote to the newspaper.

"I am, with my wife and mother, in residence at 4125 Sixteenth Street north, and very much alive."

Doncaster's photo ran - Cheshire Cat smile, cap cocked to the side.

For 22 years, he worked as a Veterans Administration officer, helping soldiers learn their rights and benefits.

He served under two Florida governors on the Advisory Council of Veterans Affairs. Passionate that local vets should have a resting place, he lobbied for creation of the Florida National Cemetery in Bushnell.

He'll be buried there in two days - Friday the 13th.

It's on purpose, said his daughter, Evelyn Cary. Her father was born Friday the 13th. "I know he's laughing about it now," she said.

His sense of humor was a little dark, a lot sarcastic. He made foes, because some people didn't get his jokes.

Cary did.

On Father's Day, they ate dinner. Doncaster looked at his daughter, who will turn 52 this year.

"I can't believe you're going to be that old," he told her.

"Happy Father's Day, Dad," she said.

Doncaster was nearly blind from macular degeneration. But he was fiercely independent and insisted on living alone.

A longtime drinker, he quit three years ago. He still visited the VFW post on State Road 44, where he hung out with military buddies. And as ex-soldiers hammered back spirits, Doncaster hammered back cranberry juice.

He knew what he liked.

Stephanie Hayes can be reached at shayes@sptimes.com or 727 893-8857.

[Last modified July 11, 2007, 00:39:38]