Donald Jay Kinney

In late May 2025, the world lost DJ Kinney, historian, creator, and writer.

With little warning and no apparent cause, DJ passed away unexpectedly at his home in Cocoa Beach, Florida, winking out of this existence like a far-off comet speeding away from Earth.

DJ was magnetic, with a seemingly bottomless well of stories. He observed his world keenly, and everyone he touched saw more of the world because of him.

He received his Ph.D. in the history of science from Florida State University, where he was able to focus on geopolitical analysis, the Cold War, historical research, and nuclear issues. He was an international lecturer who spoke at the Niels Bohr Institute in Copenhagen. He worked with the U.S. government on classified projects. His well of knowledge and his secrets are lost with him.

He earned his M.Ed. from Portland State University, and taught in both the United States and England. He received an M.F.A. from the University of Florida and a B.A. from the University of Montana in creative writing, and published many short stories. He graduated from St. John’s Jesuit High School in Toledo, Ohio, with pride in his Jesuit education as well as a healthy skepticism for authority.

His creativity was boundless. He made documentaries, and won awards and scholarships for his writing. He wrote, recorded, scored, and produced a podcast, The Cold War Vault, where you can hear his storytelling voice. He ruminated in his work about the meaning of home. We wonder what home will mean without him. His digital trail of creative work exists for now, but fades with him.

Drawn to danger, he was an accomplished deep water diver and Wim Hof enthusiast. He loved to sit with the crabs and fish on the bottom of the Atlantic off the Massachusetts Coast, much to the chagrin of his loved ones. He was at peace in the cold.

For the short time he was with us, he lived deeply and thoroughly. He traveled to many countries each year, immersing himself fully in England, Poland, Jamaica, Belize, Iceland, Japan, and many others. He backpacked alone for a month in Nicaragua.

He was a watchmaker, and was a proud member of the Horological Society of New York.

He loved music. He made beautiful hand-carved flutes and ukuleles, and played the guitar.

He was an avowed Slytherin who enjoyed passing the time in Diagon Alley.

A lover of dachshunds, squirrels, birds, and rabbits, he watched them with joy. Each time a cardinal appeared, he believed it to be his beloved grandmother, Flo Kinney, who preceded him in death. Perhaps he will come to us as a cardinal in these difficult days.

Like his other cherished grandmother, the late Kitty Carlock, he loved history. He was a member of the Sons of the American Revolution and could regale you with stories of battles and spies and subterfuge and patriotism and pride and defeat.

He was a space enthusiast and Renaissance man. He enjoyed watching NASA launches during his final years in Florida. He collected and repaired antique typewriters. He lit 2000 year old Egyptian lamps for solstice celebrations. He loved fountain pens.

There were times that he believed in himself, and his light shone brightly. He had a glimmer on those days.

He leaves behind a trail of devastation with his too-soon death. Left to mourn are his wife, Annette Fritsch, his parents, Pam and Donald Kinney, Sr., his sister, Christina Kinney, his niece Eleni and nephew Nikolas, and a world sorely in need of his voice and the stories he told.

We think we have time. It is later than we all realize.