Hanne and Kevin
Hanne and KevinImage by: Hanne Dalmut
Hanne and Kevin
Mo Bro Kevin
Kevin and Hanne at Nasdaq
18 January 2022

Remembering Kevin

Hanne Dalmut
3 minutes read time

Movember was a major part in Kevin’s adult life, and our relationship. I remember our first date, which after hours of talking and laughing ended on a more serious note. “The next time you see me”, he said, “I will look wildly unattractive.” An intriguing start to what ultimately changed my life forever. Early on, I knew Kevin was the one because of his spirit of kindness and generosity, and his desire to make doing the right, best thing fun for everyone. He told me I was a keeper in part because I could handle even the earliest days of a Ned Flanders-esque mustache.

As I got to know him, and his mustache, I began to understand how deeply the Foundation and cause connected with him. Kevin Mo’d in honor of his father, Pete Dalmut, who’d passed the year before we met. It was a way to feel like there was some control over cancer’s impact on others; a way to protect other sons, daughters and wives; a funny cover to sit in the sadness that is grief and loss, and to have others sit with you. Each Mo fundraiser and conversation was funny, light hearted, optimistic. I now know how bittersweet each dollar raised must have been for him. But he raised those dollars, had those conversations about men’s health, and stared at his mustache (and the memories it triggered) every day for a month.

" Cancer makes people feel small, helpless. Movember created a space that lifted him up and said “together we can." "

And then, ladies of the Movember Community, I was free!

Over the years, and the mustaches, Movember became an important part of our community. He led fundraising teams and, when we moved to new cities, used it as a network to meet new friends. It was ‘our thing’, with mustache adorned nicknacks making their ways onto our shelves and walls. The Movember team themselves became part of our circle, with regular phone calls that left Kevin feeling like he was part of a scientific sea change and supporting real progress. As both a finance bro and a Mo Bro, he was the proudest I’d ever seen helping to open up Nasdaq in 2018, larger than life via a Time Square jumbotron. Cancer makes people feel small, helpless. Movember created a space that lifted him up and said “together we can."

2020 was his final year for Movember, and we didn’t know it. Due to Covid, we couldn’t bring the community together in the same way. But I still have some favorite memories of him from that month. I made my first (and only) Insta Reel nearing midnight on Oct 31 of him shaving his face. One night, he made me sit through dinner and eat with my left hand, because my right wrist was attached to his via one of those buddy bracelets included as Movember swag that year. And he still spent hours on the phone reaching out to friends and family that month, catching up on life but always serving as the subtle reminder to “not wait” and “schedule your check up”.

Kevin passed unexpectedly on Jan 19, 2021 and this past year, the family Mo’d without him and for him. We directed all remembrances to Movember and raised over $30,000 from friends, colleagues, family members, and neighbors. Over his 10 years of mustaches, Kevin raised $74,578 to support Movember’s research and advocacy efforts and had direct and pointed conversations with hundreds of men about safeguarding their health. It’s more than just dollars to me. It is a legacy that brings us all comfort and pride, and it is one of the simplest ways to demonstrate his goodness.

The challenge remains. Three weeks ago my uncle passed away from cancer. I first learned of Movember because of my college roommate, and her high school sweetheart dying at 19. We all have a Pete, a Fred, or an Ian in our lives. Movember gives us something to do and a community to belong to. Be a part of it year round, because none of us know what tomorrow brings.

--Hanne Dalmut, wife of Kevin Dalmut