Donald Norris Hayes, a former vice president of the municipal bond group at Washington, D.C.-based investment firm Folger Nolan Fleming Douglas Inc., died Feb. 3 of congestive heart failure. He was 78.
Mr. Hayes began his career in finance by working as a bank teller with American Security Bank. He joined the municipal world five decades ago when he became a trader with Folger Nolan in 1960.
Known to park his car a far distance away from the office so he could enjoy a walk after commuting from Maryland, he worked at the firm twice, initially for 12 years until 1972, and for another dozen years from 1979 to 1991.
Former colleagues and self-described friendly competitors remembered Mr. Hayes for his active participation in the 1980s with the Washington Finance Forum, which later morphed into the Washington Association of Money Managers.
For most of the 1970s, Mr. Hayes worked at Riviere Securities Ltd. After leaving Folger Nolan in 1991, he continued working in municipal finance as a retail trader for Ferris, Baker Watts, where he spent nearly a decade before entering retirement.
Born Dec. 6, 1931, in Washington, D.C., Mr. Hayes lived in Maryland for most of his life. He graduated from Oxon Hill High School and attended Washington Missionary College, a liberal arts school in Takoma Park, Md.
In addition to his involvement in municipal finance, Mr. Hayes was a lover of the outdoors and especially liked to hike trails, friends said. One former colleague remembered that Mr. Hayes was always looking at maps and planning his next excursion. He also enjoyed working in his father's rose garden and, later, in his own.
Mr. Hayes is survived by his wife of 55 years, Peggy Hall Hayes, and their children, Pamela Tarman of La Plata, Md., Timothy Hayes of Lugoff, S.C., and Daniel Hayes of Silver Spring, Md., as well as two grandchildren and three great-grandchildren.
Mr. Hayes' funeral service was held last Saturday at the Waldorf Seventh-Day Adventist Church, where he had served as head elder and school superintendent. Attendees were given prayer cards with the poem "Miss Me, But Let Me Go," authored by an unknown soldier in World War One. It begins: "When I come to the end of the road / And the sun has set for me / I want no rites in a gloom-filled room / Why cry for a soul set free?"
