Barry Dorr
When I saw the picture of Doug and Shelley in the newspaper, one of my first thoughts was "so that's what Doug's face looks like without a trombone pressed to it." The Doug that I knew spoke with his horn. When he had something to say, he expressed it with beautiful and daring solos that stretched the limits of the trombone and touched the most wonderful limits of jazz. Other times, Doug would pass on playing a solo and listen carefully as the next person spoke their piece. Doug could smile with his horn as easily as he could cry with it, or be silly with it. I'll treasure the memories of playing trios with Doug and Peter as "The North Pacific Street Trombone Club" as well of the memories of so many music parties with good food and red wine.
One of my favorite memories of Doug was a Christmas music festival at a local church. After our trio played, Doug and his then-16 year old daughter played a duet together. After that, she sang a beautiful solo. It was cool to see how proud Doug and Shelley were. It was truly special to see a family share their love for each other with music. Doug was a lucky guy.
I could go on and on... there was the visit with Bill Watrous. There was the time Doug was preparing to give his Bach 36 horn away to a high school music program, and I snagged it and played it for a year. Then Doug decided he liked it and made it his regular horn. There were the sunrise services in Carlsbad where we blew freezing cold horns at 5 am. All those things are memories and I'll always remember them fondly.
Barry