To the editor:

I am an extended family member of the late, great Don Siegelaub, whose obituary recently appeared in the Westport Journal by way of his children. 

The family’s loss and tribute to his life were felt by me as well, as I am from Maryland and the brother of his son-in-law. I had spent several holidays with Don and his family, enjoyably so, and I’d been looking forward to reading some sort of fond narrative of his lifetime, so thanks for running it. 

I never even knew he had an NBA offer from the Chicago Bulls in the 1950s, but went into construction instead. Pro basketball was a low-paying career in the ’50s, and he probably wasn’t the only college player who made a similar choice. Way back when my parents first met Don and Marcia, I remember my father telling me that in Don’s senior year at Brooklyn College, he was third in the country at fouling out. 

It figures, he was a physical presence under the basket at 6-foot-6, not to mention as competitive as he was big. Though I first met him when he was 55, he was very pleasant, kind, always approachable and generous with his wealth. You felt like family when you were around him. 

He wasn’t timid about making the trappings of his success visible, owning a Porsche to go with his wife’s Mercedes, and having a winter apartment at the Cricket Club in Miami. Heck, what was the point of all that money if you couldn’t live a little? But that lifestyle wasn’t exactly news to most people who lived there. In later years, he remodeled his home on Punch Bowl Drive, with pretty spectacular results. I saw it when it was gutted and then, again, in rebuilt condition. 

Other than his buddies, I turned out to be the only sports fan in his entire family. We would watch NBA and college games when I was there. When he heard I was vacationing in Miami to see the Baltimore Orioles play a few spring training games in 1983, he let me stay at his condo for a week on my own. It was at that condo that I watched N.C. State shock Houston in the 1983 NCAA Championship game.

Our continuing family visits boggled the mind. One day in Westport, I used my brother’s car and drove around just to see it again. Darned if that house wasn’t the most distinctly modern mansion for a several block radius in that neighborhood.

But he always took care of the community in which he lived. He was always fun to be with (his saltiness was part of the fun), and had gone on to be a big man in many more ways than one. I imagine a number of people may have read that obituary who had grown up in houses Don built in the 1960s.

I want to add that I perused the Journal’s other links and read with enjoyment Gretchen Webster’s story marking the 100th anniversary of Paul Newman’s birth. 

I join millions of people in being huge fans of his career. I rode by his Westport house (he actually owned two adjacent houses) a couple of times during visits with my brother, and it was nice to read about the numerous charitable uses of his wealth in his post-career years.

Steve Katz

Columbia, Md.