This is Dan, despite my handle there.., I'm Jack's best friend, and this is what I read at his funeral, what I wrote that morning:
Jack and I rode identical Schwinn Varsity’s bicycles together in Yakima when we were twelve. We rode bicycles together when we were 55. He played trumpet. I played trumpet. I liked Rafael Mendez, Jack loved Al Hirt. We were both pretty good, I thought. Although, once we got into Jr. High, we both perhaps had changing interests, so we occupied, as I remember, the LAST chairs in the Wilson ninth grade trumpet section. We had the same interests in most things, not all. Growing up in the sixties, we were both what you might call anti establishment. We’d stay over night at each other’s homes, stay up kinda late and watch Johnny Carson, and talk early teen stuff, I suppose. We also watched the old TV show Route 66, and I think, while watching it, we felt a kinship too, by identifying with Buzz and Todd, the characters. Buzz was played by George Maharis, a Greek actor, and the blond white guy, Todd played by Martin Milner. I recently bought every episode on ebay and shared them with Jack.
Jack was passionate about his beliefs, and he knew so much more about the world, I believe because of his father, who had come here from Greece. I always liked seeing Mr. Demson. He seemed so wise, and kind, and I have been reminded often by Jack, in recent years of our continued friendship, of what you might call the spiritual legacy left by his father; Mr. Demson’s perceptions of the world, and his wisdom in life, which he passed on to all his children. He could see true colors, and Jack strove to do the same. Jack always tried to see what the good road was, and I want to remember that about him.
I remember once Mr. Demson took us boys to Seattle where we stayed in our own room in an old hotel owned by Mr. Demson’s friend, right on Pike Street. Wow. We were on the second or third or more floor, it wasn’t too high. But we’d spit and see how long it would take to land, watch the night life walking by down below us, people going in and out of the bar across the street,..enthralled, enthralled to be out of Yakima. Years later I would think of that when I drove my taxicab by that block.
After 1968, when we graduated, we didn’t see each other for a long time. Perhaps once in 1969. But for the most part, we went different directions, both trying to do what we thought we should. Until in 1985, I believe, I saw him in my neighborhood, Ballard, where once we came when we were kids in my old Mercedes Diesel, and where he had told me his aunt had lived, I think. I was astonished to learn he lived one block from me. But we mostly just said Hi and didn’t visit much. Jack did help me one time, during that time, when I had to pick up my car. But they moved away, bought a house, after which Jack divorced her and moved back to Ballard.
I ran into him in the late 90’s roller-blading around Green Lake maybe more than once. He seemed happy. He almost always seemed happy to be out and doing things.
It was only about 6 to 7 years ago, however, that we, for whatever reason that we started hanging out again, having coffee, bicycling around Ballard, the Burke-Gilman trail, Magnolia, Golden gardens. Talking, talking..it was kind of like we picked up where we left off, kind of like we were in our teens again. He even joined my racket club. He went to an eBay symposium with me, a Comedy club, which he really enjoyed, and lately, we saw our favorite Progressive radio talk show host, Thom Hartmann, and other Air America talk show hosts at Seattle’s Town Hall. Jack rarely missed the war Protest on the corner by Tully’s in Seattle. He and I pretty much own Ballard. He’s remembered in many coffee shops and stores, the video store..just everywhere.
I realized back then the quality of the connection I had left behind so many years before with my friend, Jack. One time in our curious youth, we thought to stare at each other for a long time. I guess it occurred to us to wonder why people who like each other in this life do not ever look long enough at each other.. we were curious that maybe something good could happen.We thought that, Gee nobody really does that. We stared at each other for four hours, and talked about it occasionally as we did. I cannot recreate it for you, but for two 16 year old, it was an experience, for me at least, that I describe best as “HOLY”, and it left a mark in me.
I don’t know if it was that experience that effected the way we related to each other.
We didn’t always agree on things. I was on the fence, even, when 9/11 happened, not sure then what Bush would do. Jack knew. And I ended up clarifying my position, and he helped me do that. In other things, where we disagreed, he had come around to my way of thinking, whether politics or the religions of Macintosh vs IBM. We used to have these lively disagreements about Macs and Pcs. Then one day, Jack told me he’d been reading about the System X on Macs…and got two Macs, and began learning more and more. He showed me so much.He’s my source of knowledge, and I’m going to miss that. He got me on the audio part of AOL instant Messaging, so that when I’m home or visiting mom, I hook it up to the stereo and, mom was amazed,…all of a sudden Jack was in the room.
Anyway, what I take away from this is that Jack and I really had something that the world needs. We had gold. We were two fellows who looked at each other long enough, one time in all of the time of our lives,..long enough for all the baloney to fall away, my baloney, his baloney…to see what we were looking at, what was simple, and right in front of our faces. That spirit was always in us…we allowed each other to roll the pros and cons of this and that around in our respective souls, just nudging each other from time to time….That is the only thing that will allow the world to perpetuate. Taking the time to look. And I’m not embarrassed to say that, on several occasions, I did tell Jack that I loved him.
I found on the internet a Greek saying.
It's not good for all of our wishes to be fulfilled. Through sickness, we recognize the value of health; through evil, the value of good; through hunger, the value of food; through exertion, the value of rest.
I suppose I’m not the only one who might add to this, through the death of a friend, the value of love.
Dan
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