Donald L. Schriefer -- wordsmith, amateur biologist and geologist, toy maker, gardener, beekeeper, husband, father, grandfather and retired City Attorney for the City of Milwaukee, after a difficult struggle with brain cancer, died peacefully but too soon for everyone who knew and loved him.
Don grew up in rural Illinois where he roamed freely hunting for arrowheads, fossils, wild berries and anything that would spark wonder in a young boy's mind. After graduating from Sheldon High School, where he was crowned Christmas King, he went on to earn a bachelor's degree in comparative mythology from The University of Illinois Chicago and a law degree from The University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign.
Don became a stellar attorney, working for Quarles and Brady, The Milwaukee Metropolitan Sewage District abd The City of Milwaukee but he was more passionate about botany, zoology, geology and evolutionary biology - his knowledge on these topics was extensive and he could talk captivatingly about them all. He could also hold anyone in thrall while discussing comparative religion, fairy tales or poetry as well as give you an in-depth analysis of the political shenanigans of the day. While Don had intellectual znc conversational gifts, he was also sincerely interested in what you thought or knew. He was curious about everything, and he had the gentlemanly skill of making whoever he was talking with feel knowledgeable.
Don had a couple of favorite spots in the world. One was the lake at his parent's home in Indiana, where he made rope swings and a deck for turtles to sun themselves. He also knew the name of every wildflower on the property. Don invited anyone within shouting distance into "The building" for a thrashing at the Ping-Pong table (under Schriefer house rules). Another ha[ppy spot was Ludington Beach State Park in Michigan, an exceptional place for the family to hike the trails, sled the sand dunes and hunt for fossils.
Don particularly loved sharing his enthusiasm for science with the many children lucky enough to hang out at the Schriefer house with daughters Claire and Ellis, (aka Bub & Petie) when they were small. Don created masterpieces of interest for his children and their friends including "vermiculates" (worm and ant farms) and framed Plexiglas squares with a wooden hatch that he called "earth windows', which, set into the dirt, became portals into the mining lives of worms, earwigs, silverfish, Armadillididiidae (a word much more fun the say than "pill bugs"), springtails and myriad other creatures. He also created gravity-powered marble tracks and brightly colored boxes built to hold lots of marbles, with sorting drawers for different sizes and colors. Don made, among other things, intricate fiendishly clever puzzle boxes with beautifully stained and wood-burned lids. To be a kid in Claire's or Ellis's inner circle meant you were going to be treated with great kindness, warmth, generosity and humor by Don. His "Mr. Handy, the talking hand" shtick was guaranteed to elicit peals of laughter, don tickled many a funny bone.
To be an adult in proximity to Don meant you ate a lot of breakfasts and lunches in diners/greasy spoons and frequent merry dinners at the home of Don and Tricia, his wife of forty-four years. Entering their home was like stepping into a combination library and museum. You could sit anywhere, and within reach was an interesting object, book, magazine or artwork which in turn would inevitably lead to a delightful and wide-ranging conversation.
After retiring Don and Tricia moved to the 109 year-old three-story family home in Montana, which he repaired and painted inside and out. Don loved Montana, and he took great pleasure in showing visitors the beauty of his adopted state. Don was always up for an adventure: You might drive to Seeley Lake to look for larch balls or to Glacier National Park for a hike to an alpine lake with the possibility of a bear sighting. Or you might drive south to a creek where he knew a flock of American Dippers, charming little birds that dive under the water fishing for underwater larvae. Or you might go an an early morning walk to hear the mellifluous song of the Western Meadowlark. If feeling ambitious Don and Tricia would drive out of Montana's majestic mountains to Great Falls to show you the works of cowboy artist C.M. Russell, then drive onto the pprairie to see where buffalo truly roam.
Although Don had more passions than he had hours in the day, he retained a tranquility suggesting he had all the time in the world. He had an insatiable appetite for words and continuously expanded his epic vocabulary. Don used words precisely to define a feeling, a thing or an idea which served him well in both his legal career and scholarly pursuits. He spent decades exhaustively researching folk tales and fairy tales for a writing project into which, after retirement, he poured his vast intellect and prodigious writing skills.
Along with gallons of cherry cordial and wild berry jam that Don produced annually, he loved to bake pies: custard, rhubarb-strawberry and cherry. He perfected, by way of frequent repetition, Norman Rockwell's recipe for oatmeal cookies, taking umbrage at anyone suggesting the addition of raisins or chocolate chips.
Don was not perfect. He was a "Cat Rustler". The feline in question was brazenly ured away from neighbors via a heated cat lodge, minimum of two cans of cat food a day, and all the attention a friendly cat could wish for. In Don's defense, BJ was an awfully nice cat. Don's other crime against humanity was his grilling technique. A piece of meat wasn't cooked until iit was unrecognizable not as meat more as a carbon-dating experiment.
Perhaps his greatest disappointment was never winning first prize at the annual chili cook-off at the city attorney's office, a failure for which his chili smack-talk always hid the personal pain of regular drubbings. He came close with his aptly named "Apocalypse Manana" but alas, the bragging rights were never to be his.
Don was adored by his family, wife Tricia, daughters Claire (David) and Ellis (Will and their son Aurelius), mother Susan, sisters Linda and Pam, Uncle John, Aunt's Carolyn and Ruth, in-laws Dan and Cathy and cherished nieces and nephews, John, Carrie, Andrew, Paul, Megan, Justin, Gabrielle, Erin and Shannon. Don will also be greatly missed by members of the book club and movie group, former colleagues, neighbors and friends. He was predeceased by his father, the renowned agronomist Donald, L. Schriefer. Don was absolutely thrilled to become a grandpa to Aurelius. That little guy brought great love and joy to the final year of his life.
To honor Don hop into your car and just drive somewhere. Look for the best rock, dig under a fallen log, take a hike, meander through an antique shop, poke around American Science and Surplus, learn the name of some wildflower or buy a kid a donut.