Donald Lee McClung Jr

My dad, Donald Lee McClung--most people knew him as Don--was born in Bartlesville, Oklahoma, on May 25, 1953, to Donald Lee McClung Sr. and Roberta Devous. Both of his parents preceded him in death.
Dad passed away on Thursday, October 1, 2026, in Sapulpa, Oklahoma, at the age of 73, after his organs began to fail.
I could stand here and give you the basic facts about his life, but that really wouldn't tell you who my dad was. So instead, I want to tell you about the man I knew.
When Dad was in high school, his family moved to Enid, Oklahoma. That's where he met my mom, Judy. They were married on December 13, 1974--a Friday the 13th. They chose that date because they wanted to prove that superstition was nothing more than "stupid-stition."
They proved their point pretty well. They were married for 51 years.
Dad worked hard for most of his life. After high school, he worked as a welder and fitter for many years. He later became a hotshot driver and did that for 11 years. Around 2004, he moved on to driving a semi and did that for another 12 years before retiring.
Over the course of his driving career, Dad drove more than a million miles.
He also spent many years working security, including at QuikTrip. Even after he stopped working security, I don't think he ever really stopped being a security guard. Dad was always aware of what was going on around him. He watched things. He noticed things. And there was something reassuring about knowing that Dad was there.
Dad was a very straightforward, no-nonsense man. He was honest--sometimes probably more honest than people were ready for--and he always had advice to give, whether you asked for it or not.
A lot of the time, that advice came with a story.
Dad loved telling stories. Sometimes the story was meant to show you what you should do. And sometimes, as Dad would say, if it wasn't a good example of what to do, it could at least be an example of what not to do.
He was always willing to help however he could. If you needed advice, he'd give it. If something needed fixing, he'd try to fix it. If there was something he could do to make things easier, he would try.
That was one of the ways Dad showed love.
He didn't always know exactly how to support me, and he didn't always have the right words. But he tried. And I never questioned whether my dad loved me.
My dad's greatest love was his children.
He loved to brag about us. If you were willing to listen, Dad was probably willing to tell you how proud he was of his kids.
He also loved his grandchildren and loved finding ways to make memories with them.
Some of my favorite memories of Dad are the little things he did that showed how much he cared.
When I was four years old, I left a stuffed dog behind and completely lost it when I realized it was gone. I was inconsolable. Dad had a coworker make a special trip to go get it and bring it back to me.
It was just a stuffed animal, but Dad understood that it mattered to me. So he made sure I got it back.
When I got married, I wanted sparklers for the wedding. Dad drove six hours round trip to Missouri just to get them for me.
That's Dad.
He would go out of his way to do something for you if he knew it mattered to you.
When his kids moved out, Dad would offer us a shotgun to keep in our new homes so we could protect ourselves. That was his way of looking after us, even when he couldn't be there himself.
And when I was a kid, I learned something else about Dad.
One day I set up a target in the backyard without permission and shot at it with a BB gun. I missed the target and shot the glass out of the camper shell.
I knew I was in trouble.
But I also knew I could call my dad.
So I called him and told him what I had done.
I don't remember everything about what happened after that, but I remember that I called my dad even though I knew I was going to be in trouble.
That tells me a lot about the kind of father he was.
He was someone I could still go to when I had messed up.
Dad loved teaching us things, too.
He took each of us to gun shows on separate occasions. He would take Crystal, Micah, or Garrick individually, and we would usually find something we liked. Dad taught us how to bargain with people and how to get a better price.
Garrick also spent time helping Dad wire lights on his pickup truck. While they worked, Dad would tell him stories and give him advice about life.
Dad didn't always sit down and formally teach us a lesson.
A lot of the time, he just brought us along and taught us while we were doing something together.
He also loved taking us places and giving us experiences we'd remember.
Rebekah and Ethan each spent several weeks riding with Dad in his semi during the summers. Dad took Rebekah to Mount Rushmore.
When we were younger and snow covered the roads in Sapulpa, Dad found a way to turn it into an adventure. He would drive while we held onto a rope and rode sleds behind the truck.
That was Dad. He could take an ordinary situation and turn it into something we'd remember.
Dad had a lot of interests, too.
He loved guns and knives, both collecting them and shooting and hunting with them. He bow hunted when he was younger. He collected uniquely shaped and colored kerosene lanterns and canes.
He loved Westerns and cop shows, especially John Wayne.
He enjoyed camping and floating the Illinois River when he was younger. In Tulsa, he and Mom bred Siberian Huskies.
Dad sold his horse to buy his first car. But of all the cars Dad owned, the one that showed up in his stories the most was his 1964 1/2 convertible Mustang, Annabelle. He raced it, modified it, and it seemed to find its way into plenty of the stories he shared about those years.
Dad could take almost any subject and turn it into a story.
He had a cowboy hat, a truck, a pocketknife, and usually an opinion about whatever was going on.
He was a Southern Baptist, and he enjoyed talking about theology and arguing the finer points of preaching styles. He wasn't afraid to tell you what he thought.
Dad also wasn't much of a sports fan--unless one of his kids was playing.
Then he was interested.
Because when it came to his kids, Dad showed up.
That's probably the simplest way I can explain my dad.
He showed up.
He worked hard. He gave advice. He told stories. He fixed things. He made long drives. He took us places. He worried about us. He protected us. He taught us. He bragged about us.
He didn't always get everything right, and he didn't always know exactly what we needed.
But he tried.
And I always knew I was loved.
Dad is survived by my mom, Judy, his wife of 51 years; his children, Crystal Mefford and spouse, Matthew, Micah McClung and spouse, Paige, Rebekah Jackson and spouse Kyle Jackson, and Ethan McClung; and his grandchildren, Garrick Mefford, Jeramyah Mefford, David Kastl, Thaddeus McClung, Eliza McClung.
He is also survived by his brother, John McClung; John's son, Jeremy McClung, and his wife, Kristie, and their children, Hunter, Addie, and Jonni; and John's daughter, Jamie Bossavage, and her daughter, Klowe.
Dad was not a perfect man.
None of us are.
But he was my dad.
And I am grateful for the life he gave me, the things he taught me, the stories he told me, and all the ways--big and small--that he showed me he loved me.
I will miss him.
And I will probably spend the rest of my life hearing one of his stories in my head whenever I run into a situation he already told me about.
So, Dad, thank you.
I love you.
And I'll see you again someday.
A Celebration Of Life will be held on Thursday, Oct 8 from 2:00 PM at First Baptist Church Sapulpa 200 S Elm St , Sapulpa. Arrangements are in the care of Green Hill Funeral Home.