Daniel Joseph Kavanaugh Jr.

It is with profound sadness — and deep gratitude for a life so well lived — that we share the passing of our dad, Daniel Joseph Kavanaugh, Jr., on September 16, 2025, at the age of 92.

Dan was born on December 7, 1932, in Omaha, Nebraska, to Dan and Ruby Kavanaugh. He grew up there, went to Creighton University, and later served in the U.S. Army. From the very beginning, he had a spark — a natural optimism, kindness, practicality, and a sharp sense of humor that made people want to be around him. And oh, could he tell a story. If Johnny Carson were still with us, we’re certain he’d agree.

Dan’s gift for connecting with people showed up early. At 14, he was selling newspapers and movie tickets in Omaha — the start of a lifetime in sales. He eventually found his true calling in the food business, working alongside his brother-in-law, John Benolken. A few years later, he launched his own company, Benolken Brokerage, in Des Moines, Iowa, which grew into one of the Midwest’s most successful food brokerage firms. John often told us, “Your dad is the hardest working person around.” And he was.

But Dan’s ambitions didn’t stop there. He was an entrepreneur at heart, always curious and always willing to try something new. In the late 1960s, he partnered with Johnny Carson and others to open Here’s Johnny’s restaurants across Iowa, Nebraska, and Minnesota — leaving the family with Here’s Johnny’s dinnerware that showed up at meals decades later. He helped launch Iowa’s first country music radio station, invested in an oil well, and even backed a motorcycle shop to support a friend. He’d grin — that charming, Robert Redford–like grin — when he told the story of his only truly profitable investment: a handheld meter reader from the 1970s.

In 1987, after years of collecting art, Dan and his wife of nearly 50 years, Carole, joked, “We either need to add on to the house or open an art gallery.” They chose the latter, founding Kavanaugh Art Gallery in Valley Junction. Together, they traveled the world, discovering new artists and making lifelong memories. Dan became a walking, talking encyclopedia of art. And right up until the end, he was still dressing in his trademark dapper suits — because, as he always said, “If you look good, you feel good” — and heading to the gallery six days a week, nine to five.

Dan and Carole shared a love of golf, often playing with their friends at Des Moines Golf and Country Club, and a passion for travel. They crossed the Atlantic on the Concorde, rode the Orient Express, and embraced every adventure that came their way.

When he wasn’t working or traveling, you’d find Dan at the poker table — especially for a game of Texas Hold’em. He’d been playing since he was a kid and mastered the game with both skill and wit. But as much as he loved playing poker, he loved the company. His games at Prairie Meadows were as much about laughter and friendship as they were about winning.

Dan was many things — a devoted husband, a proud father and grandfather, a good friend, a hard worker and a sharp dresser. But above all, he was someone who made people feel good.

He is survived by his children: Kim Kavanaugh Adler (Mark Miller); Chris Rinehart Kavanaugh (Heather); and Donavon Rinehart Kavanaugh; his grandchildren Stephen (Aly), Kelsey (Anthony), MacLaine (Amy), and Syd; and his great-grandchildren Asher, Otto, and Annie Rose. He is also survived by two fun and beautiful sisters, Mary Drum and Susan Graves. He was preceded in death by his parents, his wife Carole, his son Daniel Joseph Kavanaugh III, and his sister Theresa McBride.

A funeral service will be held at Sacred Heart on Friday, October 10th, at 11:00 a.m., followed by a celebration of life at Winchesters in Valley Junction (next to Kavanaugh Art Gallery) from 12:30–2:30 p.m.

We are deeply grateful for the outpouring of love and support. Friends, neighbors, and acquaintances alike have shared stories of his kindness, humor, and impeccable sense of style. The words we hear most often: “I just loved your dad. He was always so nice, so funny — and always dressed sharp.”

And maybe that’s the best way to remember him: with a smile. His favorite advice — the one he lived by and passed down to us — was simple: “Don’t sweat the small stuff — and smile.”

In lieu of flowers, please consider a donation to your favorite charity. Or, as Dan would say, “Buy yourself a piece of art — something that will make you smile every time you see it.