Oliver David Dodart

Oliver David Dodart—known to family, friends, and the thousands he inspired simply as David or Dave—passed away peacefully at home in St. George, Utah on May 27, 2025, at the age of 80. He left this world as he lived in it: surrounded by love, courage, faith, and a legacy that cannot be measured in years or possessions, but in lives changed, courage fostered, and people lifted.

David was born on March 18, 1945, in Long Beach, California, to Amy Jean Wood Dodart and Oliver Ulysses Dodart Jr., a Navy serviceman who passed away in 1946 when David was just one year old. His mother, Amy Jean, was a force of knowledge and resilience, and later married Willie Sanders, another military serviceman. Together they raised David and his sister Billie Jean while stationed in Germany before returning to the United States. Eventually, the family grew with the birth of David’s twin brothers, Rod and Greg Sanders. The four siblings were raised in northern Utah, where the values of self-reliance, reverence, and responsibility were instilled early and deeply.

As a youth, David’s course shifted when he saw a televised performance by the great violinist Zino Francescatti playing “The Hot Canary.” Moved by the thunderous ovation, he turned to his mother and said, “Mom, that’s what I want to do with my life.” That Christmas, a violin appeared under the tree. After scraping the bow across the strings and hearing, (in David’s words), “one of the most awful sounds I had ever heard,” he declared he wanted to quit. His stepfather gave him an instruction that would become a defining philosophy: “You don’t have to play the violin all your life, but you do have to play it until you learn to enjoy it.” So, he did—and in time, he didn’t just enjoy it, he mastered it.

As a young adult, David returned to Germany to serve a full-time mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It was a bitterly cold, often rugged assignment—at one point, he lived in a castle without a refrigerator, placing his groceries on the windowsill and gauging the storage temperatures by how close to the window it was. But the harshness of the conditions never dampened David’s spirit. His mission reinforced what would become a lifelong conviction: that all things are possible to him who believes.

Upon his return home, David continued to pursue his love of the violin and performed in a well-received quartet. Music was a lifeblood to David, and he himself was considered to be a musical prodigy. To support that passion, he entered the world of sales—and what began as a temporary necessity quickly became a calling. Driven by instinct, charisma, and iron discipline, David rose quickly through the ranks of Glen W. Turner’s famed “Dare to Be Great” movement, where he would eventually oversee Turner’s German branch. There, he didn’t just sell products—he sold personal belief, helping others rewrite the stories they told themselves about what they could achieve.

When the Turner era passed into legend, David brought its core message with him: that you are as great as you dare to be. When he returned to the United States, David didn’t slow down—he launched and led ventures that reflected his belief in possibility. He trademarked and marketed internationally distributed products, built a sales and mentoring network, and at the height of his entrepreneurial career, was the leader of thousands of individuals to their own business successes.

To David, success was never measured by wealth or titles alone. It was in seeing others achieve individual success through their own dedication that he found joy. As he often reminded others, “We spell ‘luck’ W-O-R-K.” He wasn’t afraid to get into the trenches with those he mentored, helping them close their first deals or negotiate better outcomes. He believed that if someone told you enough times that you could do it, you’d start to believe it yourself—and he told a lot of people, until they did.

As he often said to his children and mentees, “Every adversity, every failure, every heartache carries with it the seed of an equal or greater benefit.” And when fear or doubt appeared—as it inevitably does—he would remind them: “There’s no shame in being afraid. It’s what you do with fear that matters.”

David was a proud member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. His faith defined him in many ways, and he frequently shared his beliefs with others. He served faithfully in many callings, most joyfully conducting the ward and stake choirs with the same energy and excellence he brought to the office place. He believed music was a form of testimony—and he made sure the message was always felt.

As a naturally kind and generous spirit, David gave without seeking credit or praise. He quietly supported many individuals and families, including sending one widow monthly checks so she could support herself, under the pretense that she’d “won a lottery drawing.” Another time, he replaced the entire tool inventory of a small business that had burnt down just days before Christmas. There were many stories of these generosities. He gave his last dollar more than once. He gave of his time also, typing resumes for strangers, coaching aspiring entrepreneurs, giving driving lessons to those who had given up hope, and mentored many individuals not for gain, but because he believed whole heartedly that a rising tide lifts all ships.

Even in the years when financial success was no longer his reality, he said the thing he missed most about wealth was the ability to generously help others. But in truth, his most generous years may have come after the money faded—when giving meant time, wisdom, love, and presence. His kindness never depended on a bank account.

He lived that belief in his home life, too. While living in Santa Barbara, he met Jacqueline Marie Ritter—a bubbly young woman with equal amounts of brains, beauty and talent. David, with his red Porsche, Donna Summer blasting on the radio, tailored suits and alligator boots, made a bold impression. Jackie wasn’t sure he was her type—until she saw the kindness behind the flash, the depth beneath the charm. Jackie told David that if he married her, “He would never be bored.” No statement has ever been more true. They married in 1980 and were inseparable for nearly 45 years.

David was blessed with five extraordinary children. He raised four of them with Jackie—Nicole, Jonathan, Catherine, and Christian— each of whom inherited his resilience, leadership, and heart. Though he commuted across the country for work, David ensured he was present for the moments that mattered. He rarely, if ever, missed a recital, a tournament, or being there in the hard moments. He taught his sons to be gentlemen, his daughters to be strong and independent, and all of them to believe that their greatness was not only possible—but expected. As life does, trials came for his children as well, but his belief in them gave courage where it was needed most. As he would remind them, “Don’t let fear keep you from finishing the journey.”

David loved sharing excitement with his wife, his kids, their kids, and the neighborhood kids. He captained multiple boats—Andiamo, Vivace, the Jacqueline Marie—even 75 foot vessels through the Florida Keys and the Caribbean without formal training and despite not being a strong swimmer. Once, he crossed the Gulf Stream in 8 to 10 ft. waves in a 47-foot speedboat, his family airborne and white-knuckled. But David was calm, certain, and unshakable—just as he always was when storms rose. Upon returning to dry land, he celebrated with his favorite pepperoni and black olive pizza at Doughboys in Fort Lauderdale. That’s how he lived: ride out the storm, then enjoy the pizza.

In 2020, David faced his greatest personal challenge: aphasia. For a man whose life was built on communication, it was a devastating loss. And yet, he remained David. He invented his own language—“bitta baker,” “you know, the boy,” “yes” (that meant “no”)—and his family learned to understand not just his words, but his soul. His hugs, his presence, his smile—all spoke loudly with love. Even in silence, he mentored. Even in stillness, he served. Even without the capacity, he travelled. Even without the full extent of his personality, he filled the room with his presence.

As a father, David was a protector to the end. He could equally charm a room with his presence and defend the honor of those he loved with a single look. He saw through the masks we wear in life—the self-doubt, the insecurity, the fear—and saw instead the immense capacity for growth, success, and love. While his businesses may have changed, his product never did: believing in yourself.

David died peacefully in his home on May 27, 2025, after countless people touched by his love had the chance to say thank you. And there is so much to thank him for. He is survived by his wife Jackie; his five children and their spouses: David Jr. and Valorie (children: Hayden, Joseph, and Simon), Nicole (children: Connor, Gracie, and Madison), Jonathan (children: Adeline and Emma), Catherine and Luke, Christian and Kirsten (with one more on the way); and his siblings Billie Jean, Greg, and Rod. He also leaves behind generations of friends, mentees, business partners, choir members, and everyday people who heard him speak—or saw him believe in them—and walked away forever changed.

Funeral service will be held at 11:00am on Friday, May 30, 2025 at the Bloomington Stake Center, 200 W. Brigham Rd. St. George, UT 84770. A public viewing will be held prior to services from 9:30-10:45am. Interment will follow at Tonaquint Cemetery, under the direction of McMillan Mortuary. 

To our brother, spouse, and dad—you will be deeply missed. But your presence will be felt in every kindness we extend, every challenge we rise to, and every life we help lift. You dared to be great, and you were exceptional—in so many ways, to so many people. Until we meet again, may your glass be full of extra ice, your ocean calm as glass, and Stargate playing on repeat.

We love you.

Funeral Services may be watched on the Zoom link below https://zoom.us/j/94499943245