We are absolutely gutted to share the sad news that Douglas Stewart, a loving husband, father, grandfather, and a friend to so many, died on Aug. 30. He was 85.

More than two decades ago, Douglas was dealt a heavy blow: a diagnosis of multiple sclerosis. He kept it to himself for years, wanting to spare his family the pain of imagining the risks ahead. A force of nature, he fought the disease and its compounding illnesses at every turn, trying to walk as long as he could without a cane, then with a cane but without a walker, and then with a walker but without a wheelchair – something he refused to become reliant on until his final hospitalizations.

A loyal friend, with a quick wit, Douglas never wanted the weight of his health problems to be the focus of any conversation. Until the very end, friends and family would seek out his counsel on their professional and personal matters. Always available to those who needed him, Douglas’ voice on the other end of the phone was clear and compassionate, and many people close to him would have a hard time knowing the extent of the pain he silently suffered. That’s how he wanted it.

Because above all else, Douglas was a lover of life, someone who appreciated and savored every experience. Passionate about the theater and opera, Douglas, on his last day, reminisced with his family about the great theater performances he had seen in Manhattan. When he couldn’t lift his arms anymore to eat, he sang a few lines from a Frank Sinatra song that compared the memories of years past to fine wines to be savored in the autumn of life. He was an inspiration, and his smile could light up a room.

Douglas was also a character. His preternatural confidence propelled him to the top of his field in sales. But it also got him into mind-bending situations, like when he convinced Donald Trump to autograph a pair of boxer shorts long before Trump’s foray into politics. Or when he convinced an airport to stop a plane already moving on the tarmac so his family could board, stunning the other passengers, for whom such things were impossible. On one visit to the Pentagon, a reporter from Agence France-Presse confused him with a U.S. senator. Knowing Douglas, and how he carried himself, it was an easy mistake to make. Impossible things for most people just weren’t for him. Nothing really ever seemed out of reach.

His success in business benefited from his undeniable charisma but also came from his relentless drive. An indefatigable salesman, he was a believer in face-to-face contact and his business flights around the world took him the equivalent of 9.3 trips to the moon and back. He accumulated so many frequent flyer miles, well over 4 million, that he was never able to use them all, even as he regularly crisscrossed the country visiting his children – Devan, Phillip and Gregory, and five grandchildren – Joshua, Connor, Logan, Graham and Nico.

That hard work during his long career made him a kind of invisible force in American commerce. For a number of years in America, if you bought toothpaste or medicine in any aluminum tube, it was reasonable to assume that he probably sold it. All of the top pharmaceutical companies around the world knew who he was and what he was doing. 

None of this success was handed to him or even expected. Douglas was born in 1940 and was the son of Arnold Stewart, who sold designer shoes at Mooney & Gilbert in New York City during the week and, for a while, drove a taxi to make extra money on the weekends. At one point, his family lived above a funeral home in Bensonhurst in Brooklyn, and Douglas credited his mother, Dorothy, with the financial acumen and thrift to eventually afford the family a chance to buy their own home. That move and her laser focus on her children’s education helped drive a generational shift in income for Douglas and his brothers, Kenneth and Robert, who all achieved success in life beyond their parents’ imaginations.

Still, all of his good fortune never made Douglas unapproachable. Far from it. In fact, one of the most remarkable things about him, until the very end, was his effortless ability to connect with anyone. There were truly no strangers to him, just people one conversation away from being friends. His mother’s son, he always admired frugality and frowned upon waste.

Authoritative and always well-informed, self-assured but never overly so, Douglas was sought out for positions as a community leader, including in Naples, Florida, where he spent winters alongside his loving wife, Linda Sahagian. The couple’s marriage of 55 years was perhaps as improbable as everything else about Douglas’ journey through life. Three days after meeting in Manhattan, the two decided to marry – and get to know each other along the way. Their bet paid off and their adventure together took them everywhere, chasing sunsets and building memories, first as a couple, then with their children and eventually with their grandchildren. They divided their time between Naples and their homes in Oak Park, Illinois, and Palisades Park, Michigan.

In each location, they forged iron-strong friendships that endured many decades and they became fixtures of the St. Giles Family Mass community in Oak Park. He was a strong supporter of his alma mater, Manhattan College.

Douglas died peacefully in his sleep at a hospital in Naples after a full day recalling with his family memories from his wonderful life. To say that he will be missed is an understatement, and we are just devastated. He is simply irreplaceable.

Beyond his wife, children and grandchildren, Douglas leaves behind daughters-in-law, Valquiria and Amy, his brother Robert, his sisters-in-law Cynthia, Harriet, Marcia, Pat and Diane, and brothers-in-law Bob and Denny. Douglas was narrowly preceded in death by his younger brother Ken, who passed away weeks earlier on August 7. He also leaves behind nephews and nieces Colin, Michael, Susan, David, Mark, Daniel, Allison, Donnie, Robert and Ken, and their spouses.

Please join us in remembering Douglas on the weekend of his birthday. A Visitation will be held on Friday, September 11, 2026 at the Conboy-Westchester Funeral Home, 10501 W. Cermak Rd., Westchester form 3:00 p.m. to 8:00 p.m. On Saturday, September 12th, the day he would have turned 86, there will be a Visitation at St. Giles Parish, 1045 Columbian Ave., Oak Park from 10:00 a.m. until time of the Funeral Mass at 11:00 a.m. A reception will follow. Please help us celebrate one of the most remarkable people God has given us the gift of knowing. For funeral info 708-F-U-N-E-R-A-L.