Jerry Daniel DuPree

Jerry Daniel "Dan" DuPree died peacefully at the home of his family on August 4, 2022, after a brief diagnosis with glioblastoma. He was born on Sunday, April 8, 1956, at St. Vincent's Hospital Riverside, in Jacksonville, Florida. St. Vincent's Hospital continued as a landmark through his life, with Dan doing construction work there briefly as a young adult, and decades later, learning of his diagnosis of glioblastoma while admitted to the hospital there, and then receiving inpatient hospice services in the same building, before moving to a home of his loved ones.

When he was born, Dan was welcomed into the family of Robert Hilton Dupree and Sarah Eileen Chastain Dupree, with three significantly older siblings, Mickey, Gwen and Linda Jo; he also had a brother named Larry who was four years older than Dan, but Larry did not survive childbirth. "Danny" was the baby; he was doted on, as his older siblings read to him constantly and thought of him as their baby doll. His mother was a school cafeteria manager, and his father worked as a carpenter and mason. As a teenager, Dan had the unique opportunity to travel internationally, which was a benefit of his sister Gwen working as an airline attendant. The story goes that he loved reading so much, his head was buried in a book throughout his tours of some of the great wonders of the world, but growing up in the quiet city of Jacksonville, he also valued the independence and cultural exposure that he experienced abroad. Dan grew up down the road from Paxon High School and graduated from there, at a time when the school was strained with racial tension due to desegregation. He has maintained meaningful friendships from those years, ever since.

He had a brief marriage with Sandra “Sandy” Murphy, which ended amicably, and he enjoyed maintaining contact with Sandy’s son, Prentice, from her previous relationship. Dan became a Manager at a Pizza Inn restaurant, where he met the love of his life, Judy DuPree. Soon after, as young parents of Daniel Jr., they moved to California where Dan worked in the oilfields. He relayed gruesome stories about the dangers he saw and experienced there, but he and Judy also relished this country-long adventure of their youth, eating ripe avocados off the tree and basking in the beauty of the mountains of Southern California. Shortly after the couple’s daughter Erin was born, they returned to Florida where Dan began his career in the then-young field of Information Technology, where he was recognized as a critical thinker and a hard worker. He spent 20 years with Vistakon, which makes Acuvue contact lenses, having been promoted to the position of a Senior Systems Analyst. He then worked in IT security for Stein Mart for 10 years. He had a successful career, but he always held a dream of opening and running a Bed and Breakfast, serving signature dishes replete with eggplant, chervil, tender greens and shrimp po'boys.

Dan enjoyed being a husband and a father very much, offering animated "Daffy Duck" voices while he read bedtime stories, playing "ninjas" with his son in the sand dunes, outfitted with wooden swords, during the family's weekend trips from the Westside of town to the beach, and preparing elaborate, delicious meals, such as steak teriyaki with chilled salads. He dabbled in higher education, but was mostly driven to learn by his innate curiosity about the world and its people. His daughter has fond memories of falling in love with reading on their frequent trips to the library. He studied the ways that people lived and worshiped around the world, practicing Eckankar, then later Buddhism. He was interested in philosophy, politics, religion, gastronomy, poetry and music. He learned and practiced jiu jitsu, as well as studying and briefly teaching tai chi under the Treaty Oak. He loved attending cultural events with his family, such as "Shakespeare at the Met" in downtown Jacksonville, the Jazz Festival, and other annual musical performances. He took his children, aged 11 and 14, to see Nirvana in concert, which won him the award for being an incredibly cool dad among their friends.

Dan later shared great joy with his granddaughters Carter and Maggie, hiking together (often with one of them hitching a ride on his shoulders), visiting local family friendly attractions and frequenting art museums together, from the Cummer Museum in Jacksonville to the Dali Museum in St. Petersburg. One of his skillfully prepared dishes even convinced Maggie - as a preschooler, and a not very adventurous eater - that she liked duck, which she talks about years later! They made memories carving pumpkins together, palling around New Orleans where Carter lived as a young child, and, in the weeks before his death, enjoying long conversations over handcrafted ice cream with Carter and watching Maggie prepare for an upcoming summer camp performance. His eyes sparkled when he was with his granddaughters.

He savored international cuisines at local restaurants, then perfected the skills to make the dishes himself. In recent years, he would call family and friends on the phone to tell you that PBS was playing the Ann Richards episode of Great Performances, for example - he was captivated by the history and the story. To say he was an avid, lifelong PBS and NPR fan is an understatement. He had a sensitive heart, and enjoyed composing and sharing his poetry with those who might enjoy it. He loved to sing, he loved to dance, he loved to tell jokes that might make some company a bit uncomfortable... He lived his life deeply, and fully, and a bit wildly, and he spoke inquisitively about the mysteries of existence and consciousness, and he has now passed through to another realm of existence and consciousness.

Dan kayaked and hiked around central and northeast Florida; he enjoyed lingering to feel the mystery and power of the Timucua on walks through the Timucuan Preserve. He reveled in discovering otters playing at sunrise with his son on the Ichetucknee River. He and his family made countless summer vacation memories, benefitting from the silence of mountains, the thrill of waterslides, and the beauty of Florida's beaches. Dan and Judy would enjoy lively vacations with colleagues and their spouses to conferences on remote tropical islands off the coast of Florida, as well as New Orleans. He loved to connect with others over the edge of a kayak or a cold beer. He engaged with a range of formal and informal community groups over the years, and he appreciated the connections he made in a world that can feel so heavy.

Dan could spend hours at meetings of the First Coast Freethought Society, or with the regulars at Gene's Seafood, or on the phone with friends, discussing social issues, his family, the topics of the day, history and culture, or what minor alteration he would make to the meal he carefully prepared last night that he was now eating leftover for lunch. He was an activist, taking his daughter to her first protests as a young adult, against the Free Trade Area of the Americas in Miami, as well as joining her in traveling with a group from the Unitarian Universalist Church to Washington, DC, to protest the war in Afghanistan. He engaged in heated conversations about issues that impact the world, with strong convictions for social justice, worker's rights and environmental sustainability. A voracious reader, his favorite books, until the end, were “Lord of Light” by Roger Zelazny, “Silence of the Lambs” by Thomas Harris, and “Ender's Game” by Orson Scott Card.

Dan is preceded in death by his mother, Sarah Eileen Chastain DuPree, father, Robert Hilton Dupree, sister Gwendolyn "Gwen" Dupree, nephew Larry Dupree and niece Hollie Mroczkowski, and great-nephew, "Little Larry" Dupree. His loss is felt deeply by those who benefitted from his love, his big hugs, his kindness, and his desire to leave the world better than it was when he entered it - most greatly, his son Jerry "Daniel" Dupree Jr., his daughter Erin DuPristle (Genesis), his former spouse Judy DuPree, his granddaughters Carter Dupree and Margaret "Maggie" Bullock, and his siblings, Mickey and Linda Jo Dupree, as well as many dear family and friends who kept his heart warm and his belly laughing for 66 years, which is an incredibly long time, when we live it in the present moment, while also tragically short.

Through the last weeks of his life, when he was very ill from the effects of the brain cancer that suddenly attacked his body and mind, he danced from his bed, enjoyed home cooked meals and lots of carrot cake surrounded by family, sang old crooners, cried as we shared tender memories, spent time together watching shows about all of his interests - Ken Burns documentaries were his favorites – and he still demonstrated his signature sense of humor with his facial expressions and his limited use of language. He acknowledged that we only have this moment, now, to enjoy a cup of tea with someone whose presence we enjoy. Poignantly, when the words he was thinking would not connect to his mouth for him to say them, he would sometimes shrug and say “words,” seeming to acknowledge that words are not all that matter – love matters, presence matters, memories matter, drinking tea together matters. He experienced his illness, and his death, with a deep sense of peace, and a comfort in the care of his loved ones, and a knowledge that this part of his journey was ending. Walking through this difficult path alongside him was the greatest blessing his death could have offered.

We will miss him profoundly, and we will remember him affectionately when we watch a new documentary about the Civil War that he would have loved, when we stand up for our convictions, when we sit quietly next to a creek, when we dance, when we make a special meal that will pale in comparison to the one he would have made on a random Tuesday, when we wander through a garden or an art museum with a child, when we laugh with a friend about the absurdities of this life, and when we hold each other closely.

Dan's body will be cremated and a spirited celebration of his life will be held at SixThreeFouR event space at 5:00 pm on Saturday, October 8. If you choose to, please bring a memory of your time with Dan, an impact he had on you, or a situation that still makes you laugh when you think of it. Most of us have a Dan story, and we would love to hear them all – aloud, or written down for others to read, or for the family to read privately. If it suits you, please wear your dancing shoes; Dan was known to break out in song and dance, and that sense of revelry is welcome. In lieu of flowers, the family graciously accepts donations to help cover the cost of a celebration that Dan would have surely enjoyed; contributions will also be used to fund a memorial tree or bench at one of his favorite hiking trails or an area park, so that all who loved him can visit a space designated to his memory.