W. David Clary

David was born on September 1, 1948 in Cleburne, Texas to parents David Marshall and Virgene Sue Clary.

After graduating from Cleburne High School in 1966, David attended Baylor University where he studied chemistry. As a fresh-faced Baylor grad, he found work with Kraft Foods in Dallas. In Dallas, David met and married Carol Jean Dunaway. They brought into this world two children, Jeffrey Jay Clary and Jennifer Kay Clary.

The family moved to Oklahoma City in 1978. David worked at Clements Foods, and he made life-long friends through a Church of the Servant Sunday school group. David coached little league teams in Oklahoma City from 1980-1993.

A job with Griffin Foods took David to Muskogee in the late 80’s. He worked for Griffin Foods until his retirement in 2017.

David will be remembered by his loved ones as a Little League coach, a music festival enthusiast, a fierce Scrabble opponent, a capable tennis partner, a “natural athlete,” a proud grandparent, a lover of Dr. Pepper, a supportive father, a champion of fairness, and a Baylor Bear.

David was preceded in death by his brother, Robert Marshall Clary. He is survived by his sister Regina Colle and her husband Randy Colle; his daughter Jennifer Clary and her husband Jason Sheueckuk; his son Jeffrey Clary and his wife Victoria Lintott; and grandchildren Quinn Lintott-Burgess, Kai Lintott-Clary, Ezra Lintott-Clary, and Olive Lintott-Clary.

As we mourn the passing of David Clary, we celebrate the legend of Davo the Magnificent.

Born as William, raised as David, W.D. Clary was baptized in sweat at the age of 39 as “Davo the Magnificent.” Night after night, the 13-year-old boys in the neighborhood would gather in Davo’s driveway, challenging him to basketball contests that a pot-bellied old man had no business winning. Night after night, he continued to win. The bewildered neighborhood boys felt that an athlete of his stature deserved a name that reflected his reputation as a fierce competitor and a neighborhood champion. They anointed him “Davo the Magnificent,” a sobriquet he wore with pride for the rest of his life.

Davo’s parents, strict Baptists who forbade Davo from attending his Senior Prom “because of the dancing,” met at a country dance outside of Cleburne, TX. When that dance wound down, a footrace across a nearby bridge settled the question of “Who will ride into town with Marshall Clary.” Virgene Sue Robinson won that race. The handsome fellow with the car and the fastest runner at the country dance were brought together. They eventually married and had three children: Davo, Bobby, and Gina.

After high school, Davo went off to Baylor a cub, and graduated a Magnificent bear. He boasted that students in his graduating class walked on water across the Brazos River to accept their diplomas. His children learned the Bear Claw before they learned their ABC’s (Sic ‘em Bears). Sadly, the lesson of the Bear Claw was lost on Davo’s grandchildren. His only granddaughter, the youngest of the bunch and his favorite, misunderstood the phrase “Sic ‘em Bears” as “Simple Bears” and refused to say it any other way. It was a testament to his absolute love for her that he met this transgression with a playful smile.

Davo enjoyed playing sports throughout his life. He described himself as “a natural athlete.” In mid-life, time away from neighborhood basketball games was spent playing tennis with friends and coaching youth sports. Perhaps his athleticism was a gift from his mother, the winner of that once-upon-a-time footrace.

His competitive streak came from his father, Marshall. Davo spent his childhood sneaking Dr. Pepper from the fridge between rounds of dominos. At the domino table, every Clary participating in a “friendly” game approached the table certain of victory, and eager to share to anyone within earshot why they were the greatest to ever play the game (even if there was strong evidence to the contrary). Talking the game was part of the game. Davo was cut from this cloth. He brought his swagger to rounds of Scrabble with friends, chess with his son, and spades with his kids. Game nights spent with friends and family on Grand Lake gave birth to legendary contests that will always be remembered with a smile. Though Davo has gone to the boneyard for the last time, his competitive spirit will haunt Clary game nights for years to come.

A lover of music festivals, Davo regularly attended the New Orleans Jazz Fest, the Woody Guthrie Fest, the Dusk ‘Til Dawn Blues Fest, and many others. Though his musical tastes were broad, his end of life music requests were quite specific. He asked that three songs be played at his funeral. The Baylor Line, “My Way,” and Elvis’s rendition of “How Great Thou Art.” The family suspects that in Davo’s songbook, “How Great Thou Art” is a song in which Elvis sings tribute to Davo the Magnificent.

In the final year of his life, Davo wrote “a book” titled “A Gift to My Grandchildren.” The foreword, scratched upon a yellow legal pad, reads: “I am writing this hoping that my grandchildren learn from things that I have done well. Two things that I feel that you will learn from my experience are 1) coaching children’s sports and 2) investing.”

As a Little League coach, Davo took pride in helping the kids under his wing mature into athletes. “Develop the players and winning takes care of itself,” was a coaching lesson he hoped to pass to his grandchildren. When coaching soccer, Davo rotated kids from the bench onto the field at five-minute intervals, ensuring that everyone enjoyed equal playing time even when the stakes were high. Kids were given the opportunity to play every position on the field, and Davo boasted of seasons where every child on his squad scored a goal.

Perhaps his grandchildren - Dr. Q, Kai-man, Ezaroni, and My Sweetie – will one day consult Davo’s “book” for his thoughts on investing. Until such a time comes, they will continue to invest their time in things that bring them joy: gymnastics, ceramics, swimming, and cooking.

A stroke in 2019 placed Davo in a wheelchair. In the last years of his life, he remained convinced of the following: 1) That his son should not have given away the damn ladders in his garage because he would just have to replace them when he got out of the nursing home; 2) That since he would need a car again, his Prius should have regular oil changes, and that if his kids would just take his car to the Toyota dealership in Muskogee it would be done for free because the manager knew him; 3) That his health would improve because he was a natural athlete; 4) That he could beat his grandkids in a footrace; 5) That he was a catch. He remained certain that he would get better and that life still had great things in store for him, even though it was clear that his health would not improve. Davo’s family coined a word for this kind of optimism: Clarrogance. This optimism will be remembered as the greatest gift Davo passed to his grandchildren (though all hope they inherit a diluted dose).

Davo passed away in New Orleans with his son holding his hand. Elvis played in the background and delivered the benediction. How great thou art, Davo.

In lieu of flowers, please consider making a donation in his honor to the Dan L Duncan Comprehensive Cancer Center at Baylor College of Medicine.