This “Life Stories” profile is part of a collection of articles remembering Vermonters who died in 2024.
In his 44 years as a custodian at the Federal Building and Post Office in Burlington, Donald Pleasant only ever took a few days off. Every morning, he would bike the two blocks from his house to work, where he took out the trash and recycling, cleaned the floors, and handled landscaping and snow removal.
Around the office, he gained a reputation for his punctuality and work ethic. Joe Perella, a retired assistant U.S. attorney, said Donald was the first person he talked to every day, and the custodian’s calm demeanor was a steadying influence in what could be a stressful work environment. When Perella came in on Monday mornings, he recalled, Donald would offer encouragement: “We can do it.” And when Perella left on Friday afternoons, the custodian would say, “We did it.”
Donald’s workday officially began at 6 a.m., but he insisted on arriving even earlier — a habit that sometimes resulted in accidentally setting off the building’s alarm, according to his boss, June Snyder.
Donald biked to work no matter the weather. Twice, his bike was stolen. Each time, the office pooled money to buy him a new one.
“Everybody in the building just loved him,” Snyder said. “Because he was so focused on his job, he might not have even realized how many people cared about him and considered him a friend.”
He might not have even realized how many people cared about him and considered him a friend. June Snyder
Coworkers described Donald as an intensely focused person who was there to do a job, though he was sociable when others initiated. He took pride in being someone others could count on. If something was even slightly off schedule — say, someone was delayed in letting him into a secure area of the building — Donald would let everyone know.
“It gives me a purpose,” Donald said of his job in a 2021 video after winning Goodwill Northern New England’s Client of the Year Award in Cleaning. “If I didn’t have a job, I’d be like everybody else: out on the street, trying to make ends meet.”
Donald continued to work until about a week before he died of natural causes at the University of Vermont Medical Center on February 9. He was 72.
Routine was a lifeline for Donald, whose childhood was characterized by instability. Born in a rough Philadelphia neighborhood, he spent his earliest years raised by his single mother in a household with nine siblings from three different fathers. Perhaps as much for the structure it gave him as for the money, Donald always seemed to have a job, from shining shoes on the streets of Philly to shoveling snow, according to his brother Michael Hernandez.

Making ends meet was a constant struggle for the family. When Donald was in elementary school, he, Michael and their brother Harold Pleasant started spending time at the home of neighbor Richard DeNaples-Hiler, a Quaker who worked for the American Friends Service Committee. He also became a surrogate parent to the three boys. Through that religious humanitarian group, Richard organized frequent trips to the Soviet Union. One summer he asked Heide Bredfeldt, a student at Hunter College in New York City whom he had met at a conference on racial discrimination, to care for them in Philadelphia while he was traveling.
A few months after Richard returned, he and Heide married and moved to the Squirrel Hill neighborhood of Pittsburgh. They brought Donald and his brothers with them and had two children of their own. The arrangement was informal; the boys were never officially adopted or placed in a foster care system.
Moving from a Black community in the inner city to a predominantly white, affluent suburb was a culture shock for Donald and his siblings, who were Black and Latino. Heide, who is white, said their multiracial family stood out in the 1960s and recalled how the boys were once refused entry to a public restroom.
School was also difficult for Donald. Heide said she realized the boy didn’t know how to read when he was in the third grade, so she hired a private tutor.
While Donald continued to struggle with academics, he developed a knack for hands-on tasks. He once built a scooter out of a crate and a roller skate, and he buried himself in magazines about mechanical systems.
Still he had trouble adapting to his new life. Donald often ran away, attempting to return to Philadelphia, but each time, his mother sent him back.
“He did what he had to do to cope,” Michael said. “He was someone who was going to survive and just keep going.”
Only 10 years older than Donald, Heide said she felt ill-equipped to care for the boys. So she and Richard sent Donald from household to household, hoping for a better fit. He spent a summer with a family in Syracuse, N.Y., and stayed in Atlanta with a relative of the far-left activist Angela Davis, who had attended one of Richard’s trips to the Soviet Union. He briefly attended the Arthur Morgan School, a Quaker boarding school in Burnsville, N.C.
“We tried very hard to find a match for Donald,” Heide told Seven Days. “But somehow, it didn’t click.”
The details of Donald’s early adulthood are largely unknown. He began drinking too much, and after Heide and Richard moved to Putney in 1968, they lost regular contact with him. None of Donald’s family members who spoke with Seven Days could say how he ended up in Burlington.
In 1977, at age 26, Donald had a daughter, Amber Pleasant, with Rose Stautzenbach, a Barre nurse. Amber, who now lives in Austin, Texas, described Donald as a loving, if imperfect, father who tried his best — though his alcoholism often prevented him from being present for his daughter.
Donald didn’t have a car, so when he did visit Amber and her mom in Barre, he would hitchhike from Burlington.
“I remember asking him about that not too long ago: ‘Why did you do that?'” Amber recalled. “He was like, ‘No one was gonna stop me from seeing you if I wanted to see you.'”
In 1980, Donald began working at the Federal Building and Post Office, where he found a sense of stability. He settled down and, in 1997, married Wendy Jones Pleasant of Burlington.
In his fifties, Donald suffered a serious injury while working. Attempting to unjam a snowblower, he put his hand inside the auger housing and lost three of his fingers. But Donald wasn’t one to complain, and he returned to work shortly thereafter.
“This was a guy who was always Steady Eddie,” Michael said. “I think he would be the poster child for resilience.”
In 2020 that resilience would be tested by tragedy when Wendy died suddenly in their Burlington home. Snyder, Donald’s boss at the Federal Building, remembers getting a call from him at 4 a.m. about Wendy’s death; she went over to the house to comfort him.
“I just kind of sat with him, took him for a walk for a bit, and he says, ‘Well, I’ll be in [to work],'” Snyder recalled. “I’m like, ‘No, Don, you will definitely not be in.'”
The office pooled money to cover Wendy’s funeral expenses, and Snyder started helping Donald with tasks that Wendy had always taken care of, such as paying bills and grocery shopping.
“When my wife passed, it was really, really bad. But then the people [were] pouring in,” Donald said in the 2021 video. “You don’t know how many people care until something like that happens.”
Amid the grief, something changed in Donald. With Snyder’s encouragement, he quit drinking, a decision that amazed his family.
“It just astounds me,” Amber said. “He had that dependency for so long, and then, in the middle of the pandemic, [after] losing his wife, he just quit.”
With his newfound sobriety, he reconnected with family members and built up a small nest egg with the money he no longer spent on liquor. He even took a bus to see his siblings in Philadelphia, where he proudly treated his family to Chinese food.
Despite his hardships, Donald was never one for self-pity.
“Up and down, up and down, but pretty much up,” he said in the 2021 video. “I’m happy.”
The original print version of this article was headlined “‘The Poster Child for Resilience’ | Donald Pleasant, September 12, 1951-February 9, 2024”
This article appears in Dec 25, 2024 – Jan 7, 2025.



