Donald K. Zajdel

Obituary of Donald “Don” Keith Zajdel.

Big Don was a man best known for his loyalty to family, his humor and karaoke skills, and his ability to put away ice-cold Coors Light like it was his full-time job, passed peacefully surrounded by the people who meant everything to him on Saturday, April 11, 2026.

Don was preceded in death by his parents, Dolorus (Kaminsky) and Joseph Zajdel; his nieces, Amy and Michele; and his oldest brother the late Joe—who has likely already handed him a beer and told him where to sit and deal him in. They’re all asking him what the hell took you so long. 

He is survived by his wife of nearly 50 years, Mary Kay (Miller)—his lifelong partner, best friend, and favorite person to argue with. Their marriage was built on love, commitment, and a level of mutual annoyance that most people could never understand, but everyone admired, because deep down, you knew how much they meant to each other. Together, they mastered what can only be described as the fifth love language: ball-busting.

Their proudest accomplishment together was their son, Garrett, who was truly their world. Don loved nothing more than being Garrett’s dad—whether that meant being at every hockey game, cheering louder than anyone else, or finding just one more way to spoil him “because he deserved it.” If you knew Don, you knew that Garrett was everything to him, and he never missed a chance to say it or brag about him. He raised him to be the man he is today. In fact, his behaviors and mannerisms are identical but he always knew that naming him “Don” would just be too many ‘Dons’ and nobody on this earth could handle two of them - but he raised his twin anyway. 

Don was also a proud dog dad, happiest behind the wheel with a dog (or even two) on his lap, both of them pretending they were the ones driving. Those rides, windows down and not a care in the world, were some of his favorite moments.

Don was a 1973 graduate of General Braddock High School and retired with over 40 years of service with Monongahela Cemetery in North Braddock. At his retirement,  Don was the  Lead Foreman for the cemetery. He spent many years as a fireman with North Braddock Ward #3, where he built lifelong friendships fueled by long nights, loud laughs, and cold beer.  Whether at Sokol Hall, the Slovak Club, or any bar with a jukebox in the East Hills of Pittsburgh, Don could be found doing what he did best, drinking beer, singing at the top of his lungs, watching Pittsburgh sports like it was life or death, and telling stories that somehow got better every time, especially when everyone kicked Amy out of the bar for saying “there’s always next year”.

Don loved loud music, loved his family and his friends, and never believed in doing anything quietly. If there was a good time happening, Don was either in the middle of it, or responsible for it - or his mini-me.

He shared a special bond with his sister Debbie (Rickey) Tkach. They didn’t always see eye to eye, but like Don would say, they were like two butt cheeks—they always came back together.  One of Don’s final wishes was that Debbie wear her dentures to the funeral home.

Don proudly held the title of “fun uncle” to Becky and Megan Zajdel, Bethany (Mark) Ducruet and Ricky (Amber) Tkach., creating lifelong memories through Sunday lunches at Gram’s house, late-night deer spotting adventures, and Christmas Day gatherings that somehow always turned into marathon poker games where nobody wanted to be the first to admit they were too tired to keep playing.

Later in life, Don embraced his role as great-uncle to Kainan and Novalee, taking it upon himself to pass down some of his finest skills—mainly bad words, bad habits, and just enough mischief to keep their parents on their toes. They loved every second of it and couldn’t wait for the next visit or FaceTime call.

Don had more friends than could ever be counted and more stories that should never be told publicly. But what mattered most is this—if you were one of Don’s people, you knew it. He showed up, he made you laugh, he gave you a hard time, and he loved you in a way that was impossible to miss.

Don never lived a quiet life—and he wouldn’t want a quiet goodbye. He lit up a room - or you’d hear him from down the street. 

He lived loud. He loved hard. He laughed often. And he always made sure the people around him felt like they mattered. He really was the ultimate family man. 

The world is going to be a little quieter without him in it—but if you listen closely, you can still hear him somewhere and you’ll hear his voice and mannerisms from Garrett two zip codes away… singing too loudly into a Coors Light bottle that doubled as a microphone, cracking a joke at the wrong time, or saying “let’s have one more and then we’ll go” five or six times until Mary Kay would say “Cool it, Don”. 

So don’t read this and be sad for too long.

Instead, join Mary Kay and Garrett and go on living your life the way Don would want:  So......

Raise a cold Coors Light.

Turn the music up a little too loud.

Bust someone’s balls.

Laugh until it hurts.

And most importantly—take care of your people.

Because that’s what Don did and what he wants Garrett and Mary Kay to do.

 All are welcome on Monday from 2-8pm at Patrick T. Lanigan Funeral Home & Crematory, Inc., 700 Linden Ave. at Cable, East Pittsburgh, PA 15112, (412) 824-8800 where a Fireman Memorial Service will be held at 7pm.

Mass of Christian Burial in St. Joseph the Worker Church (formerly St. Maurice) on Ardmore Blvd. in Forest Hills on Tuesday at 12 noon.