Criswell Davis

James Criswell Davis (“Criswell” to the world, “Cheesewheel” to some of his closest friends, and “Bongo” to his grandsons) passed away peacefully on October 3rd, 2022. He was 71. Encapsulating the life of a man like Criswell, whose presence touched so many the world over and whose rapturous storytelling bordered on the mythological, is a tall order. Certainly we will miss important chapters. Friends will flesh out stories and correct the details, drawing and moving the chalk line between fact and hyperbole. And yet, what can we do but try?

Criswell entered the world in Bryn Mawr, PA in 1950, the second of four children born to Mary Jean Tyson and Richard Coleman Davis. He is survived by beloved siblings Stephen Springer Davis, Scott Tyson Davis, and Darragh Davis, to whom he was devoted and with whom he remained in contact weekly through the end of his life. As a boy he spent several years at the Kimberton Farm School before attending Episcopal Academy, where he developed an early and ultimately lifelong affinity for wearing a suit and tie, eventually drove a sleek little MGB GT6 sports car, and fostered many deep friendships that continued to flourish through the time of his passing.

During his time at Colorado College, he competed in demolition derbies with his friends and their trusty steed, a majestically rusted husk of a car known as Bumphead Naso. In the same era, he attended the famed Woodstock music festival with his brother Steve, the two of them arriving in a VW bus with nothing to eat but a single blueberry pie sans fork or knife, and ultimately departing around the time of Jimi Hendrix’s set because they had to pee. (Yes, he was asked many times in the intervening years why he didn’t simply pee on the ground where he stood. His reply? “We were polite Episcopal boys!”)

He began an ultimately storied career in restaurants, which also helped introduce him to the light of his life, Bridget Walsh. They would end up together for an astounding 48 years, married for 39 - though of course Criswell, always the completist, insisted that he “wanted credit for all 48”. Criswell’s love for his family, immediate and extended alike, was the stuff of legend. A model son-in-law to Barbara and William Walsh (as well as brother-in-law and uncle to innumerable Walshes), he adored Bridget’s family and was as devoted to them as he was to the family the two of them built together: son Cole and daughter Teagan, and eventually Cole’s wife Mary and their two amazing boys, Max and Murphy.

As Cole and Teagan grew up, Criswell supported their interests and pursuits without hesitation, enthusiastically attending every one of Cole’s concerts (yes, even the ones at dive bars at 1am) or Teagan’s plays (yes, even the ones that were, ah... challenging). He talked endlessly about their talents to anyone who would listen, and even dipped his toes into the theatrical waters a few times himself! He went so far as to give a deeply charming performance as Don Pedro in a production of Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing in the 1990s (or, as he always described it in the years since, “the time I played Denzel Washington in that play”).

In one of the all-time great examples of a college major having less than nothing to do with one’s ultimate life trajectory, Criswell, a man with a bachelor’s degree in Philosophy of Religion, ended up as a consultant and one of the foremost experts in the world on the topic of sustainable hardwoods. After years working in lumber sales, he spent the last decade of his life championing the use of these and other natural materials in built environments to architects and designers across the globe, promoting the physical, psychological, and environmental benefits of biophilic design. One of his proudest professional accomplishments was the delivery of a TedX talk in Dayton, Ohio in October of 2019. Throughout the course of this career, he traveled the world to a degree many only dream of, achieving Delta Airlines’ million-mile Diamond status (and he would be the first to tell you that these were “butt-in-seat” miles, never earned so cheaply as by promotions or credit card purchases). He got to visit some of his favorite locales numerous times over the years, had devoted friends on every continent, and only got almost-trapped in a foreign nation due to impending religious civil war once.

Throughout his life, Criswell was a dedicated sportsman, running marathons and other long distances for decades. He routinely woke up at 4am to run and exercise before heading off to work, including a unique 13-year routine of feline-assisted sit-ups with his beloved cat Chloe on his chest. In 1978 he founded the Sailin’ Shoes Run for Fun in Colorado Springs, which has lasted for decades beyond his departure from Colorado. He completed the Hood to Coast Relay, and even ran the Pikes Peak Marathon a whopping five times. The first time he ran the latter, he bet Bridget that if he was able to cross the finish line, she in turn would have to quit smoking. Needless to say, Bridget hasn’t smoked a cigarette in over forty years. Never bet against the Cheesewheel.

His love of music endured to the very end, even dancing with his nurses to Tower of Power in the hospital. He spent decades as an avid record collector and amateur percussionist, playing funk tunes as loud as they would go and frequently busting out whatever handheld drums were nearby to add a little color to the recording. He even had a brief stint as a conga player in a college hip-hop jam band (now, you may be wondering “did hip-hop really even exist when Criswell was in college?”, to which this writer is obligated to reply that while the founding band members were all college students, Criswell himself was in fact in his late fifties at the time. Does this surprise you? Of course it doesn’t.)

Criswell was a peacemaker who almost never raised his voice. An extrovert who knew that every room he entered was full of potential new best friends. An avid gardener who was fascinated by the workings of the natural world. A gadget-lover so devoted that he used to receive personalized Christmas cards from the manager of the last remaining Radio Shack in Dayton, Ohio. A friend to all animals, from the many beloved cats and dogs he owned throughout his life to the ragtag gang of backyard squirrels he called “Bennie and the Jets”. A dedicated friend who always sought to bring people together, regardless of physical distance. A theatrical storyteller, forever delighting audiences and friends with the mythmaking, charm, and hyperbole of what was lovingly nicknamed “The Criswell Show”. A husband whose adoration of his wife was unflagging and all-encompassing. A father who thought his kids hung the moon, and more importantly who would never say no when they asked him to read them a book “the funny way” for the hundredth time.

Criswell continued to astound us with an unbridled enthusiasm for life, boundless optimism, an unmatched sense of humor, and an extremely generous nature. He always joked that he would die while regaling us with one last, previously-untold great story about himself and Mick Jagger. He never got to tell it, but there’s not a single doubt in anyone’s mind; it would have been amazing.