“Wherever a beautiful soul has been, there is a trail of beautiful memories.”
Welcome to David’s Memorial Page.
You are warmly invited to share your stories, reflections, and photos here as we honor the trail of beautiful memories David left behind.
Obituary
Beloved husband, son, brother, and dear friend, David E. Coldiron, passed away at age 62 on November 19, 2025, in Gig Harbor, Washington. He was a dedicated football coach, passionate teacher, and enthusiastic sportsman whose life was defined by leadership, integrity, and heart.
Born in Whittier, California, David grew up riding dirt bikes, fishing, and playing football. A 1981 graduate of Van Nuys High School, he was an a key member of their championship-winning football team. After high school, he went on to graduate from the University of Southern California in 1992. David eventually made his way to Washington state where he met his soul-mate, Wendy. They were married in 2021.
Following in his father’s footsteps and pursuing his own passion for football, David coached high school football for many years. His love of sports shaped not only his own life but also the lives of countless young athletes he coached and mentored. He believed deeply in discipline, teamwork, and character, and he worked tirelessly to instill those values in others.
Beyond the field and classroom, David embraced the outdoors. He loved fishing, hunting with his dog River, and riding motorcycles with the same adventurous spirit he carried throughout his life. He lived fully and encouraged others to do the same. David was forthright, courageous, and fiercely loyal. He valued friendship and family and stood firmly by those he loved. His presence was steady and strong — a protector, a mentor; a true friend.
He was preceded in death by his father, Raymond Coldiron. He is survived by his wife, Wendy Coldiron; his stepdaughters, Molly Barnett and Ashley Suhoversnik; his mother, Janeen Coldiron; his sister and her family, Nika Cayton, husband David Cayton, their children Eric, Winona and Scot Cayton; and David's "brothers" Glenn Gorss and Dave Morris.
David’s legacy lives on in the players he coached, the students he inspired, the friends he cherished, and the family he loved so deeply. He will be profoundly missed and forever remembered.
My Husband - David Coach Coldiron
My Loving Memories of My Husband
Our Meeting
I knew you were someone special when you planned our second date before we even met for our first date. At the time, it felt a bit forward; later, I came to recognize it as a devoted gesture—one that echoed throughout our marriage. When you arrived, you wore brown, a comforting color and one of my favorites. We had dinner on the waterfront in a busy, loud restaurant, yet your voice was the only one I heard. Afterward, we walked to an ice cream shop, and it was there that a small kindness helped me fall in love with you. A woman accidentally spilled a stack of napkins onto the floor, and you—like a knight in shining armor—immediately stepped in and gathered them up. That simple act made an impression on me. We ended the evening walking hand in hand along the waterfront, as though we had been together forever. And because you were such a gentleman, I finally asked, “Aren’t you going to kiss me?”
Our Life Together
Our life together was easy. We shared many similarities, and where we differed, we treated one another with respect. When there was disagreement, David’s response was often a simple “yes, dear,” followed by his unmistakable, booming laughter—which usually had me laughing at myself, too. We did not measure our marriage by vacations or possessions; for us, it was always about being together. We loved the simple things: car rides, frozen yogurt, or a quick coffee run where the dogs could come along and enjoy a cup of whipped cream.
Our Dogs
We loved our dogs—in fact, we loved all dogs. David was a true hero for taking on my chihuahua. He insisted Micci “wasn’t really a dog,” and he would laugh when we kept watching for eagles and owls that could carry Micci away.
Family
One of our greatest wishes was that we had met earlier in life. God’s timing was what it was, yet David often imagined the life we might have shared if our paths had crossed sooner—perhaps with many children. Although David and I did not have children together, he was truly devoted to my daughters, as though we had been a family from the very beginning. His love was steady and supportive, and he cared deeply about their well-being and safety. His counsel was always offered with love, and for that I am grateful. My daughters love David and will miss his kindness, his loud laughter, and the way he loved me—with patience, gentleness, and tenderness. He took care of their mama.
David’s Impact
David’s impact on others was evident to everyone he encountered. Some of my favorite moments were the stories he brought home from teaching. There were countless humorous accounts of his approach with students—and their responses. Even those who did not like him at first would later return to visit, grateful for the tough lessons that helped turn their lives around. Our refrigerator became a kind of hall of fame, covered with messages from students who had found wisdom and direction through David.
What I Will Miss Most
Though it is difficult to share, these are the things I will miss most about David:
His love for me—the deepest, most honest love I have ever experienced: unconditional, steady, simple, and powerful.
Our faith in the Lord as a couple, leaning into His grace and direction.
The love he shared for my daughters.
His loud laugh and daily joy.
His strength—physically, emotionally, and mentally.
His intelligence and patience.
The love he shared for the outdoors. Hunting and Fishing.
The family and friends he held in the highest regard, and his devotion to their lives and well-being.
Our car rides.
David’s warm touch—hugs filled with love and protection.
David, I am truly honored to have shared my life with you. You taught me to laugh at myself and to accept who I am—and who I am not. Your love was matchless, and it will remain the standard by which all else is measured.
Our Wedding Song
I will close with our wedding song—the one we sang again and again on our car rides:
“I’d love you to want me, the way that I want you, the way that it should be.”
- “I’d Love You to Want Me,” by American songwriter Lobo.
Eulogy - Our Beloved David
The Fragrance of a Flower
We have all heard the phrase…Stop and smell the roses….Sadly, this busy, loud, selfish world prevents many of us from doing this very thing as frequently as we should. Distracting us from valuable life moments and precious personal relationships instead pushing its own agenda of the shiniest thing, the latest gadget or the bigger whatever. Stop and smell the roses should mean… Slow down, pause, reflect, enjoy, appreciate the moment, it’s all about the journey as the destination will be here in a blink and the world would have already moved on….
I’d like to share with you a thought that comes to us from such a simple thing as a flower… And how this flower reminds me of the story found in the Bible, which tells us of Jesus with His disciples passing through a field. And it says that Jesus stooped down and picked a flower and then showing it to His disciples said, “I say unto you that Solomon in all of his glory was not clothed like one of these flowers of the field. And yet the flower that brings its beauty in the cool of the morning, in the heat of the afternoon withers and dies.” How much a flower is like life. For the flower will tomorrow return back to the dust from which it came. We will no longer see its beauty; its color will fade and disappear as its petals drop. But the miracle of the flower is that no matter how long it has been gone, we will always remember the fragrance that it brought. How much like David…in the full blossom of life, like the flower, he brought color and beauty to our lives but most of all, he brought the fragrance of the love he shared with us.
And we know today that the outward part we so loved will forever be gone but please understand the miracle of his life is just like the miracle of the flower. For no matter how long he has been gone, we will always have the fragrance of his life to remind us of his love. And as often as we pause a moment to remember … within us, we will find that he is not gone—he is here—in our lives, in our hearts, and in our souls. For he gave far more to us in life than death can ever take away. And so the next time you stop to smell a flower, remember David as that is sure to put a smile on your face! And then think of all of the others who have also gone before, more smiles! Because the fragrance of their love will be with us for as long as life shall last.
David was a one-of-a-kind guy.
His smile and laughter would light up the room. His ability to make friends in any environment was amazing. His care and concern for others was always a priority and he was always willing to share his time and listen. He had a deep desire to educate and grow his students in ways, much like his father, that made learning enjoyable and relevant to real life. He was a passionate sportsman, fisherman, hunter and always enjoyed exploring the world. His coaching ability and wisdom on the football field was top notch. Perhaps the only negative about David was his deep love for the USC Trojans…but none of us are perfect…LOL
Gone way too soon with so much more life to share, he is terribly missed. I love you my friend and look forward to seeing you again. Please give your dad a big hug for me!
Let us pray
Our gracious heavenly father,
May your presence of love and peace be with us today and forever bringing joy, hope, and bountiful purpose to our lives, May the world see and experience your abundant love and mercy, through us and in all that we do may it be in your Glory and for your Glory.
Amen
Gallery
Slide Show
Memory wall
The first time we met was at my high school graduation in May of 1963. you were about three months old.
When you were about three years old, your mom and dad brought you back for a visit to your grandparent’s house. It was during summer vacation, and hot in Arizona. My parents had the water hose running in the front yard to water the grass. The next thing we knew you had the watering hose aimed through the front door screen, and the living room carpet was floating.
Later, you were about four of five, when I and two buddies traveled to the LA area to go to the LA zoo. We stopped at your mom and dad’s house on our way in, and slept on the living room floor overnight. In the morning they fed us a steak and eggs breakfast. I ate too much and went and laid on my back in the living room. You came running out of your room yelling “UNCLE DONNIE!” and landed right on my stomach, I almost lost my breakfast.
Years later, I met you and Ray at the Stoddard-Wells Off Road Area. I had just bought my new Honda XL 250. During the day’s rides, at one stop you asked me if I had done a wheelie yet. I told you that this bike isn’t good enough to pull a wheelie. So instead, you suggested we try out each other’s bike for a while. In just a few minutes I looked in your direction and saw you riding my bike across the desert on the rear wheel!
One spring, Ray brought his Katana and your street bike over, and we toured Arizona for three days. So later I bought a road bike and came to Oxnard. The three of us rode to Ojai and Solvang.
During the years that Janet and I had season tickets for ASU football. You came to a couple of our games and tailgated with us and our friends. The games were probably USC games. At one of the games you called out a play that would be coming up by one of the teams, and then it actually happened. I noticed the people sitting in the row in front of us lean to each other and discuss what you had just called. Minutes later, you called another play that would be coming up, and after that played did happen, the people in front of us turned around and looked at you. I explained that my nephew was a football coach.
Aunt Janet and I also attended an ASU game with you at the Coliseum versus USC. You met with us and toured the campus some, and what I remember the most is walking through the USC trophy building, and all the trophies.
When Aunt Janet and I attended your wedding, we knew you had found your special lady. The wedding was so special.
David, you were my only nephew. I sorely missed texting with you during the college playoffs and the super bowl this year. But I do know that you and Ray were discussing those games. And that you both are also catching up on your hunting, fishing and motorcycles and many other tales.
Aunt Janet I love you and miss your smile.
I have been thinking a lot about what I want to say to you, and I do not want to leave anything unspoken. You came into my life during a time when I did not fully understand what steady support looked like. I had love in pieces growing up, but not the kind of guidance that teaches you patience, responsibility, and how to show up for the people you care about. You stepped into that space without making it complicated. You lived your life in a way that taught me more than you probably realized.
You taught me how to slow down and think things through. How to research before jumping into anything. How to take my hits on the chin with grace. You showed me the value of doing something the right way instead of the quick way. A lot of that comes from who you are. You are a coach, a teacher, and someone who guides others by example instead of speeches. Even outside the classroom or the field, you carried that same sense of purpose and steadiness. It rubbed off on me in ways I will never forget.
You did not just care for Wendy. You cared for all of us. You helped Ashley and me get on our feet more times than I can count, and you never made us feel like a burden. You opened your home, your time, and your patience to us. You gave what you could, even when you did not have to. You showed me what it means to stand up for your family, stay positive, and be dependable.
I am grateful for the time I got to watch you in your element. Seeing how much passion you had for hunting and fishing, listening to you talk about gear, rifles, and techniques, and watching your eyes light up whenever you shared something you learned. Even though I did not get to go on a hunting trip with you yet, your enthusiasm still taught me a lot. I wish we had more time. There is still so much I would have loved to learn from you. I am thankful for everything you did share with me, and I will carry those lessons forward.
There is something I want to say clearly, because I do not usually say these things out loud. I love you. You became a real part of my family. Not through blood, not through marriage, but through the way you showed up, the way you treated me, and the way you lived. You became the closest thing I have ever had to a stepdad, even if we never used that word.
Thank you for every lesson, every moment of patience, and every time you believed in us enough to help. Thank you for being someone I could look up to. Thank you for caring.
I am going to miss you more than I can explain, but I am grateful I got the chance to know you, learn from you, and love you the way I do.
I hope you feel surrounded by peace and love. You deserve that.
Joey
Donate
Together, let us continue the legacy of compassion and kindness that David embodied throughout his life.
Friends of the Little Pend Oreille National Wildlife Refuge: https://refugefriends.com/become-a-friend
From the “Become a Friend” Tab/page, scroll down to the “donate” button located near the bottom of the page, under Scholarship Fund Donation. You will have the option of using PayPal or a credit card,
Scholarship - A number of students have initiated the process of a scholarship being created in David’s name. When we get more information on this with details on how to donate to it, we will pass it on here. Thank you
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