Condolence: I'm Sarah. John/Jack was my daddy. I have so many memories of my daddy but one that always makes me smile, is every time I hear Frankie Valli. Dad could hit those high notes just like Frankie. So many times I'd walk into his workshop, and he'd be sitting in his chair, bopping in his chair to "Sherry" or "Walk Like A Man". Those high notes would come on, and daddy would toss his head back, and sing right alongside Frankie Valli with this giggle and a smile.

When we moved from Elyria to Nova, he threw himself into farm life. He often said that when he was in Vietnam, he dreamed of coming home, and becoming a farmer. We bought an 80 acre farm in Nova, Ohio and he made his dream come true. I was plowing and discing the field at 8 or 9 years old. We had everything from beehives, to turkeys, goats, pigs, chickens, geese, ducks, horses, and even one single cow named Baby. We got Baby from a nearby family. The local feed store has a surplus of baby chickens after Easter, and dad told me they were going to drown the excess that they couldn't sell. He couldn't bear that thought, so he bought ALL of them to save them. There were cases and cases of "peeps" as we called them, in our barn. Then we gave them away to neighbors and friends, sold them at a very cheap price, and made trades. Baby the Calf, was one of those trades. She had scours when she came to us, had to be tube fed, and I remember being warned that she might not make it. She did.

We had 4 goats, 2 of which my brother Jeremy and I were in charge of milking in the evenings. For a long time, every other Friday, our dinner was a ham and onion pizza from Happy Time Pizza in Bailey Lakes (or their amazing steak and cheese sandwiches, which I learned to make at home), and for dessert we had Oreos with fresh, still warm, goats milk. Then Saturday morning, dad would take us into town (Ashland) where Dad would first go to the bank, then Home Hardware, and either Hawkins, or Gerwigs White Barn. There were plenty of treats along the way. The bank gave us lollipops, Hawkins gave each child a free cookie from the bakery, and on the way home, we'd always stop at Bailey Lakes General Store, where Robin affectionately greeted me with a "Hey Brat!" before he added free squirts of syrup to our Slush Puppies, or a free extra scoop of ice cream to our cones.

My daddy wasn't perfect. But instead of thinking about his mistakes, I prefer to think of the great memories he made for us. He hung a swing from a huge black walnut tree for us, and I remember standing on it, and swinging side to side until the swing got so high, that I could see the fields of crops all around us. We had a large garden he loved tending, but for some reason, he just couldn't successfully grow watermelon. One summer, us kids sat around a sandbox he'd made, and we were eating huge slices of watermelon for dessert. We absentmindedly spit the seeds wherever they landed. Later, watermelon plants grew like crazy in our sandbox. I remember him laughing at himself for all the years of unsuccessful attempts at growing them, when all he had to do, was have us spit seeds into the sandbox. We had a TV, but only about two channels came in (I believe 19, and 43?). Our fun was found outside. We'd play "Ghosts in the Graveyard" (a version of hide and seek) at night in the bank barn. We'd roll down the bank barn hill braced inside an empty feed barrel. We'd explore the woods, and pond behind our pasture where plenty of tadpoles appeared every spring. We especially loved the sound of the "spring peepers" (baby frogs) and dad even recorded them on his tape recorder to play at night in his room.

He loved to refinish antiques, and eventually started a business called Walnut Pond, that he ran from our workshop in the pole barn. He taught me how to use the lathe, drill press, and other woodworking tools. The smell of fresh sawdust will always take me back to my childhood. Dad was fearless about so much. We had maybe 4 beehives, and I remember watching in horror the first time dad opened one, armed only with a smoker, and no protective gear on. The bees landed all over him, and I was sure he was in big trouble. If he got stung even once, he didn't show it. They seemed to know he wasn't there to harm them. He'd let them land, and crawl all over him, and showed me just how adorable and precious honeybees are. I still hold a great love and sense of protection of them now. My yard annoys our neighbors in the city, because I refuse to spray the dandelions and clover.

As I mentioned before, he wasn't perfect. I also mentioned that he provided us a childhood that most kids never get to experience. Our backyard was 80 acres. We played outside from the moment we woke up, to long after the sun went down. We learned how to live off the land, what hard work is, and the joy in simplicity. I will always love, and appreciate him for that.

Rest in peace, daddy. Until the day I see you again, know that you are always in my heart. You live on in the stories I tell my kids about you, and I see so much of your personality in my kids, in different ways. I love you, and wish we could have just one more day.

Love, Sarah

Condolence: My condolences to family and friends. Jack, as I grew up knowing him, will be missed like a brother, maybe even more so because I got to choose him as so. Being so far away here in England and the time that has passed has not dimensioned my love and respect or memories of my closest and dearest friend.

Condolence: Johnnie , Jeremy , Sarah and family. ,
May your hearts be filled with more happy memories than tears . My condolences to you all .
Love
Marcia