Donald J. Chesarek RIP

/ July 2, 2025
July 1, 2025

I remember that crisp January morning in 2020 like it was yesterday—the first fishing day of a new decade, and the day I met Don. I was at the Basalt launch at San Luis Reservoir, getting my boat ready, when I noticed I wasn’t alone. An older man—80 years old, as I’d later learn—was hauling a massive 30-pound lead-acid battery out of his Subaru and lugging it down the ramp to his float tube. Not just any float tube, either—it was a fully tricked-out Scadden Zonker with a full-size Minn Kota motor. This wasn’t his first rodeo.

I offered to help, but he waved me off. Don was self-reliant to the core. As I watched him expertly rig his setup, I asked if I could snap a few photos. He agreed, and I realized quickly this wasn’t some backyard DIY job—this was the work of a master electrician and engineer. The craftsmanship was impressive.

We got to talking, and when I asked if he was an engineer, he said he’d worked at IBM. That stopped me cold—my late father had worked at IBM, too. As fate would have it, Don had known him. Both were electrical engineers, both had worked on some of the earliest computers and mainframes, and both had left their mark on the industry. It felt like I was meeting a kindred spirit.

Then I noticed his flies—beautifully tied, purposeful. As we kept talking, I learned he was a founding member of the San Jose Flycasters. Our paths hadn’t crossed when I joined in 1973, but we’d both fished with many of the same people. We exchanged numbers, and I told him I’d love to take him out on my boat sometime. That was the beginning of one of the most meaningful friendships I’ve ever had in fly fishing.

Over the next five years, we fished together every couple of months and stayed in close contact, always comparing notes on the Forebay and the Lake. Don reminded me so much of my dad—analytical, curious, thoughtful. He approached fly fishing like an engineer would a puzzle. He was also a staunch conservative, like my dad and me, and he often shared words of wisdom from a senior’s perspective that stuck with me.

Fishing days with Don were always memorable. He’d text my wife Gina cheerful Russian Orthodox holiday greetings—always gracious, always thoughtful. He spoke of his family with pride and deep affection. Though I never met his wife, the way he talked about her reminded me of my own mom. Don was ten years younger than my dad but outlived him by a decade.

One story of Don’s stuck with me more than most. He told me about losing all his prized fly gear—Abel reels, Sage rods—on 9/11. He was in New York for a business meeting, with plans to fish afterward. His gear was stashed in a hotel near the Twin Towers. When they collapsed, so did his fishing plans, and he lost his equipment to an act of terrorism.

Last year, we shared two unforgettable days on the water.

On June 4th, we fished the Forebay. It started out slow, and Don told stories about his best days there with Lee Haskins. I told him, “You never know, today could turn out to be your best day yet.” An hour later, the water erupted. Fish blitzed the surface, birds dove, and chaos unfolded—acres of feeding stripers. We caught fish until our arms gave out. When it finally quieted down, Don looked at me and said, “That was the best day I’ve ever had on the Forebay.”

Earlier that spring, I took Don to Henderson Springs Ranch for trout. I’d also invited Dorothy Zinky—she’s in her 90s—and hoped to get Don into some big fish on chironomids from his float tube. He caught a handful of nice trout during the Hex hatch, but no true monster. On the last day, I took him to my favorite spot, determined to get him his personal best.

Just as we were about to call it a day, he hooked a beast. The fish towed him around the pond like a tugboat. Every time Don reached for the net, the fish took off again. It was pure joy to watch. He handled it like a master, finally landing it after a long, thoughtful fight. Don didn’t usually say much or show a lot of emotion—but after releasing that fish, he turned to me, cracked a huge smile, said nothing, and let the moment speak for itself.

That’s how I’ll remember him. Quiet strength. Deep wisdom. And a love for fly fishing that ran as deep as the water he floated on.

Last Saturday night, Don and his buddy Bob left for Pyramid Lake at 11 PM, driving through the night. At first light, they made a few casts, but Don began feeling what he described as vertigo. By that evening, he definitely didn’t feel right, and the next morning, Bob drove him to St. Mary’s Hospital in Reno.

Tests on Monday and Tuesday were inconclusive, though his bloodwork showed elevated markers indicating a possible heart attack or cardiac issue. Despite feeling relatively okay and eager to get back on the water, doctors convinced him to stay for an angiogram scheduled for Wednesday morning.

The angiogram revealed three blocked coronary arteries and a malfunctioning heart valve. Don underwent bypass surgery and a valve replacement on Thursday. Although the surgery itself went well, he suffered a stroke afterward, and his condition worsened. He was placed on a ventilator.

Yesterday, in accordance with his DNR wishes, the ventilator was removed, and Don peacefully passed away.

The First Fishing Day of the New Decade – No Hitter

Forebay Topwater

 

Don of the Racks

 

Don and I on the Forebay

 

Forebay with Don

Tough Day for Don and I

Fishing with Don

The Hex at Henderson with Dorothy, Don and Dave

Donner and Blitzen

Here’s a more detailed profile of Donald J. Chesarek, the IBM Distinguished Engineer:

Role & Expertise

Core Contributions

PPRC (Peer-to-Peer Remote Copy) Manager

FlashCopy Manager

  • ISPF-driven tool that integrates FlashCopy operations with PPRC workflows.

  • Simplifies consistent snapshots, fast batch processing, and interaction with Global Mirror, Inband Copy, and cascaded mirroring.

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