Remembering Clarence Dass

Clarence’s favorite quote from his favorite movie, “It’s a Wonderful Life.”

By Christina Salem

As we mark the one-year anniversary of Clarence Dass’s death, I’d like to memorialize him for those of you who never had the privilege of knowing him.

It’s so easy to begin this by listing off all the accomplishments that Clarence contributed to the community around the world. Many knew him for his friendly smile, witty one-liners, or the fact that he battled stage four colon cancer behind closed doors and still managed to provide pro-bono services for the Iraqi community while they fought deportations, alongside his own determination and valor to live life to the fullest. Clarence’s legacy will cement him as a timeless pioneer of everlasting grace and savvy wisdom in the multiple communities he led. However, Clarence was more than his achievements and his illness. He was a friend, a confidant, a man of God, a father of twins, a husband, a son, a brother, and my first cousin.

We grew up together side-by-side for the 29 years I had with him. He set the tone for so many of the games and activities we played as kids. He was like my oldest brother (and the leader of my three brothers when they needed one). He was the biggest practical jokester but also had the deepest ocean of compassion and empathy for anyone who came to him with their most vulnerable feelings and secrets. He was patient and kind and had a calming charisma that would fill any room he entered. When he was around, people felt safe and enveloped by a peaceful joy that only Clarence could produce.

I’ll never forget my sigh of relief when he surprised everyone in 2013 at my aunt’s apartment during our trip to Denmark for our little cousin’s wedding. I had someone closer to my age to hang out with—someone that spoke the same language as me! Since my aunties and other cousins weren’t native English speakers, he was the ideal companion to explore the city of Copenhagen with. We decided to give ourselves the nickname “Team USA”. Little did I know my experience and conversations with him on that trip would plant seeds which would change the trajectory of my life.

He was in a brand-new role at the time for Oakland County; I didn’t really know what that meant and neither did my cousin, who asked him. It turned out Clarence had received a promotion to become prosecutor for the Special Victims Unit for the county. Yes, he was representing victims of child abuse and domestic violence, like they did on the TV show SVU. He was locking up the bad guys and giving the voiceless a microphone. I remember looking at him and thinking, “Wow. This is what a hero looks like.” He was a real-life hero to so many people. I never knew someone I was so close to could be so special and could selflessly give to so many people. It seemed so Christ-like. I was instantly inspired to change my entire life, which was already in a state of flux to begin with.

When I got home, I changed my major from marketing to journalism, because after hearing that conversation I too, had dreams of being a prosecutor. When I told him how I made that choice and wanted to go to law school he instantly told me that as a founding member of our inside joke of “Team USA,” that his success was my success. To have someone like Clarence going to bat for you is something I can share with all the amazing people he’s helped, but when my big cousin who seemed so out of this world and amazing said those words to me, I was filled with an unshakeable confidence. I remember watching him in court pursuing justice in action, and it was like watching the righteous defend the meek, innocent, and forgotten. The wit and strength Clarence portrayed in a myriad of circumstances was spectacular to witness.

If I ever wanted to reach the levels he did, I felt like his hand would always be there to stretch out to mine and help pull me to higher heights. He never let me down with those words, and although I strayed and shifted paths many times, he always ensured me that whatever my choices were—his success was still my success. (Go, “Team USA!”)

In that decade after the wedding in Denmark he founded his own law firm, the Dass Law Firm; became an adjunct professor at Rochester College; was the Assistant Prosecutor for Oakland County from 2012-2016; served as president of Leadership Oakland, and on the Board of Directors and Alumni Association of Wayne State University; served as an Advisory Board Member of Gilda’s Club of Metro Detroit; won a Community Service Award Winner from the Oakland County Bar Association in 2017; and an Unsung Hero Award from the State Bar of Michigan in 2019, all while being an on-air legal expert for WXYZ Channel 7.

These accolades don’t begin to scratch the surface of the number of lives Clarence touched in his short time on Earth—lives that extend far past Michigan and the United States. His kindness and love were known by members of our community around the world. His messages always seemed to have a timelessness to them, and I cherish one of the last nuggets of wisdom he shared with me before his passing: “You are the only you.” Clarence managed to forge a path we had never seen anyone take in our community and that last line reminded me that I have a similar path to follow, one that is constantly evolving and completely untraveled.

Now I’m proud to carry on that legacy by supporting his family and wife and their twins, ensuring my success is their success. The twins will know the great love their parents shared and how their father had the ability to wholeheartedly connect with others because of his awareness of the preciousness of presence in an overstimulated world. They’ll be able to play the same games their father did with us as kids. They will hear about all the people he helped and feel seen and validated for their experiences. They’ll know even in his last days he was mentoring troubled youth in Mar Addai Church in Oak Park that no one knew about until after his passing.

When the time comes, I am confident the newest additions of “Team USA” will continue to fight the battles of the less fortunate and strive to give a voice to the voiceless the same way their father did.