Don Mishler enjoyed music, the outdoors

For 39 years, from his high seat behind the wheel of a city bus, Don Mishler watched the world go around. He drove through the streets of Spokane and watched as the city changed and grew.

He drove through farmland to Medical Lake, where he broke the rules when he pulled over to watch the silent deer graze and birds fly across the wide blue sky. He raised a family, and when they rode with him, he showed them the world through his window.

But on the day they laid him to rest, the wheels stopped turning as friends and family who had gathered together, and co-workers scattered across the city, said goodbye.

Don Mishler was born in North Dakota and moved to Spokane as a young boy. When he was in elementary school, his father fell to his death while painting the Monroe Street Bridge.

Mishler’s sixth-grade teacher, Stan Jump, took him under his wing and taught him to hunt and fish. For the rest of his life, Mishler would attribute his great love of the outdoors to his teacher.

In high school, Mishler was a star athlete. He set a state track and field record that stood for a year. As a student he was active in a dance troupe and toured the East Coast.

He developed a love of music that would stay with him for the rest of his life. After graduating from high school, he spent two years in the Coast Guard. That’s where he learned to play the guitar.

He returned to Spokane and was hired as a city bus driver. He married and divorced.

Mishler played guitar with local bands, frequently with Russ Elmore and the Eldorados, and he watched Elmore’s daughter, Russanne, also a musician, grow up.

When Mishler broke his leg and was bored being home alone, he called Russanne to come over and help him learn a few songs.

“That’s how we fell in love,” Russanne Mishler said. “He conned me into coming over, and by the time his leg was healed we were in love and engaged.” They were married at her home.

During the ceremony, Mishler was moved to tears.

“He could barely get the vows out,” Russanne said. “He acted like the big, gruff hunter, but he was a very tender man.”

Mishler was proud of the fact that he caught all of the meat that the family ate.

“The first five years we were married I never bought any meat,” Russanne said. “There was always venison, elk, bear, trout and grouse in the freezer.”

“My father always said a little prayer for everything he shot,” Heather Mishler Johnson said. “And he tried to use every part of the animal.

“He tanned hides for gloves and several jackets, and we even rendered the lard.”

Russanne’s daughter, Marisa, who was 2 when Russanne married Mishler, tasted pot roast for the first time when she was 7.

“She wanted to know what kind of meat it was, and we told her it was beef,” Russanne said. “She asked, ‘Where did you shoot the beef, Daddy?’ “

Because Mishler drove several routes through the city, often filling in for other drivers, the family often spotted him, or he spotted them, during the day.

“I remember I had a fender-bender, and I was trying to think how I would explain it to my husband,” Russanne said. “At that moment, a bus pulled up, and the driver — my husband — got off and looked the car over.”

Mishler’s children learned that “Daddy could be anywhere.”

“My sister and I skipped church,” Heather Mishler Johnson said, “But when we got outside, we were afraid he would drive by, so we ran to the post office across the street and hid there until church was over.”

Mishler and Russanne continued to perform with country music bands in the area. He played with country music legend Lefty Frizzel and co-wrote a song with Spokane native Robert “Bobby” Wayne.

“He loved to sing, to just break into song,” Russanne said. “In the morning he would wake me up with ‘Get out in the kitchen and rattle those pots and pans.’ ”

Often, Russanne said, bus riders would recognize him from his musical performances.

Ten years ago the couple moved to Post Falls, and Mishler continued to commute to Spokane to drive a bus for Spokane Transit.

“He used to drive to work with his hazard lights flashing and pull in with two minutes to spare,” Russanne said.

In early February of this year, Mishler complained of double vision. Doctors discovered a large malignancy was pushing his right eye forward and interfering with his vision.

It was not his first experience with cancer. He had breast cancer in the late 1980s and later had another malignancy removed from his neck.

The surgeon removed the tumor that was growing in his sinus cavity and Mishler underwent aggressive radiation treatments, but within two weeks the tumor returned and doubled in size.

On April 18, Mishler lost his battle with cancer. He was 65.

After his funeral, a co-worker told Russanne that during the funeral every in-service bus in the city pulled over and sat idle for a moment.

“It was their way of being there with us,” Russanne said.

For the family, it’s going to be hard to get used to the absence of Mishler’s music.

“He sang to me every day, until he just couldn’t sing anymore,” Russanne said.

“Now,” Heather Mishler Johnson added, “The silence is deafening.”