DURWARD: VISIONARY

by Rachel Greene

What does it mean to be a visionary?

It’s seeing a world that doesn’t exist yet and believing in it anyway. It’s the ability to look at something unfinished or entirely absent and see what it could become. Visionaries don’t ask for permission; they just begin. And in doing so, they give others the courage to begin, too.

Durward didn’t see Pi Kappa Phi as a finished product; he saw it as a canvas, an evolving, living organization with a greater purpose still ahead. “Pi Kappa Phi was young, rough around the edges, but full of ideas,” said Hon. Tom Carter, Gamma Delta (Memphis). “Durward gave those ideas, like a national service project, a national housing fund and the fledgling Pi Kapp College program he inherited, structure. He created the scaffolding we all climbed.”

His vision inspired others because it welcomed them in.

That scaffolding was built to elevate. Durward created a framework strong enough to support a growing brotherhood, yet flexible enough to let it rise. “He was always on the leading edge of change,” said Lonnie Strickland, Omicron (Alabama). To Durward, the edge wasn’t something to fear; it was where progress began.

He had the rare ability to see both the potential in people and the promise in ideas and then bring them together. “Durward was a force of nature,” said Dudley Woody, Xi (Roanoke). “He was the guiding light for Pi Kappa Phi and its entities.”

“Durward charted paths to do things before others ever dreamed of them,” said Stuart Hicks, Kappa (UNC-Chapel Hill). “He made us a leader in the fraternity world.”

His ideas were bold, but never reckless. Where others saw risk, he saw opportunity. Durward knew how to seize the moment, and how to bring the right people along with him. Jerry Brewer, Sigma (South Carolina), remembered one of those moments. “I met him at a truck stop off I-77 and he pulls a poster from the backseat and says, ‘What do you think of this?’ It was part of that campaign on alcohol and consent. I thought, ‘You’re really putting our name on that?’ But he walked me through it, and he was right. He nailed the timing and showed the world fraternities weren’t just about social life, we were about brotherhood and quality men.”

Durward never needed the spotlight; he just wanted to build something that mattered. “He intentionally surrounded himself with talent,” said Tom. “He wasn’t threatened by people who knew more than him or had a different skill set. He sought them out.” He found the people he knew could make his vision a reality, and he brought them together. “It’s kind of like, he got you in the boat, and that boat just kept getting bigger, and with every person he brought on board, it got better, until we had the finest ship, ready to sail into Pi Kappa Phi’s future,” said Jerry.

His vision inspired others because it welcomed them in. “He had the vision that we could become the large, successful fraternity that we are today,” said Kelley Bergstrom, Alpha Omicron (Iowa State). “But more than that, he had a magnetism about him that helped others see potential. He could get a diverse group of people to work toward one common goal.”

Durward charted paths to do things before others ever dreamed of them. He made us a leader in the fraternity world.

Nowhere was that more evident than in the creation of P.U.S.H., the service initiative that would become The Ability Experience. Durward imagined a fraternity bound not just by brotherhood, but by service. His idea was simple: don’t just raise money, go out and meet the people you serve. Build with them. Live alongside them. Befriend them. That vision reshaped Pi Kappa Phi’s identity and has inspired thousands to take up the mantle of servant leadership.

“Starting our own philanthropy, that was all him,” said Wally Wahlfeldt, Upsilon (Illinois-Urbana-Champaign). “His thought process was: ‘Why just send money?’ He wanted us to get involved and meet the people we were helping. It was revolutionary, and it’s been transformative.”

Phil Tappy, Lambda (Georgia), remembered early trips to the Western Carolina Center, where they worked with artist Thomas Sayre, Kappa (UNC-Chapel Hill), to build custom playgrounds for children with disabilities. “Durward saw what Thomas was doing and said, ‘We’ve got to replicate this across the country.’ That was the vision, not just to build playgrounds, but to help people with disabilities live more independently.”

This vision reshaped the culture of Pi Kappa Phi. It challenged brothers to lead with empathy, to serve with intention and to seek purpose beyond themselves. What began as one man’s idea became a pillar of the Fraternity and a catalyst for generations of servant leaders.

“With his idea, we planted the seed,” said Tom, “and today, we continue to cultivate better fraternity men, and a better society, because of it.”

To Durward, enacting his vision was never about recognition. It was about possibility. The possibility of what a fraternity could stand for. The possibility that service could strengthen brotherhood. The possibility that young men, given trust and guidance, could grow into leaders who change the world.

Though Durward has entered the Chapter Eternal, his vision lives on, not only in what he built, but in the mindset he instilled: to see potential where others see limits. To act when others hesitate. And to stay grounded in purpose, no matter how bold the dream.

He wanted us to get involved and meet the people we were helping. It was revolutionary, and it’s been transformative.

So, what does it mean to be a visionary?

It means seeing the invisible and building it anyway. It means shaping the future so clearly that others can confidently follow. And perhaps above all, it means living a life that reminds the rest of us that we can do the same.

Durward didn’t just meet the definition of a visionary. He lived it. And in doing so, he left Pi Kappa Phi a brotherhood strong enough to carry that vision forward into every generation.