For my 13th birthday, about two months before he and mom got married, John gave me a "Little Knick", a 6 ounce can of Knickerbocker Beer. That can was exactly one half the size of a grown-up can of beer. I remember sitting at the heavy oak table in the dining room, sitting in the spot at the head of the table which John would occupy for the next 50 odd years, drinking my little can of beer. It was a lager, not my favorite beer style though I did not know that yet. All I knew is that I was determined to enjoy it. I also don't know whether or not I ever drank it again; that beer went extinct in 1974, shortly after I reached legal drinking age.

When John married my mother, he instantly acquired a family of three pre-teenage children and one large dog. His birthday gift of beer exemplified the style of parenting he adopted when we became his family. He figured out by trial and error how to connect with us kids. He treated us as little adults as much as he could. He shared with us the things and activities that he loved. He set a consistent example of generosity and responsibility. He loved and took care of our Mom.

He and Mom started some new traditions together and continued some old ones. One of my favorite new traditions was beef fondue every Friday night in Jackson. We would sit around the table with a hot pot of sizzling peanut oil in the center and a plate of cubed chunks of raw beef on the side along with several bowls of different dips. We used little skewers to spear a chunk of beef and dip it in the oil, leaving it in there at least long enough to brown the surface. It was a perfect meal for John - extremely rare beef with no vegetables. It was a perfect meal for John in another way too. Beef fondue was a meal which took a long time to eat, which meant there was a lot of time to sit around the table as a family and talk. John loved doing that and we have been doing that ever since.

One tradition which John brought to his new family was skiing every winter weekend at Wildcat. He had apparently been doing that for a decade or so already. We all knew how to ski; in fact that was how my Mom and John met, and we already preferred to ski at Wildcat so it was an easy tradition to adopt, but John took it to the next level. He taught us to get in the lift line alone so we could move ahead a few places on occasion by calling out "Single!". He taught us to ski nonstop top to bottom and save the socializing for the lift line and the ride up the mountain. He taught us to break for lunch either before or after lunchtime so as to take advantage of the shorter lift lines while everyone else was eating.
Sometime around 1960 John bought a lifetime pass to Wildcat. I recently tried to figure out how many total days John had skied at Wildcat on that pass, and I came up with an estimate of between 2,500 and 3,500 days. He certainly got his money's worth.

John continued to ski at Wildcat well into his 80s. When an injury forced him to stop downhill skiing he continued with Nordic skiing, and when he could no longer do that, he simply walked whenever the roads were bare. I know from experience how difficult it is to give up activities which you have loved for years but John did so without complaint, continuing with each one as long as he could then switching to something else with the same commitment and enthusiasm. He did not dwell with regret on what he had lost but instead took pleasure in what he could still do. May we all age so gracefully. May we all live so fully.

John, if you can hear me, I just want to say "Thank You". I will miss you.