Obituary for John T. "Jack" Patrick
The inimitable Jack Patrick died Saturday, November 28, 2020.
Born March 26, 1948, to Thomas Miles Patrick and Frances Sferra Patrick, Jack was the quintessential mid-century boy: he loved hunting, fishing, and camping. He might (or might not) have set fire to a neighbor's shrubbery, and he definitely sharpened one of his dad's knives on the edge of a sidewalk.
Jack attended Indiana University, where he pledged Kappa Sigma and made friends for life. He graduated in 1970 with a degree in English, which is surprising because it took him three tries to pass the required Shakespeare class. A lesser man would have changed his major.
After a brief stint in grad school, Jack spent several years doing all sorts of jobs: he was a Teamster while working for a railroad company, he trapped muskrats and sold the pelts, he worked in a seed factory, he was a silversmith. He might have been a hippie.
Once he began to settle down, Jack worked for over a decade as a manager for Goodman Jewelers, but wisely decided to start his own business as a contractor. While he never made a fortune, he made a great many homes better, and also made so very many friends.
Those good friends have some wonderful things to say about Mister P:
"In archaic English they called someone who knew something about everything a "man of parts." In nursery rhymes there is the house that Jack built. Jack really is the epitome of those two things."
"From Jack one could receive advice on how to mend a cracked pepper pot, including what kind of paint to disguise the crack once fixed and where to buy said paint, mending the internal mechanism of a rolling pin, how to clean antique rugs, the best place in Indianapolis to buy fish, where all the deer in Bloomington come from, the history of the oldest ginkgos in Bloomington and their locations, how to find morel mushrooms on Jack and Jill's property (ending with Jack giving us most of his own haul), and how to obtain a fish-filleting knife (Jack will give you one of his).
In other words, Jack was an amazing, always generous, resource - not just because he could do so much to fix and/or improve our house, but also because he simply knew so much. So often, these gems of wisdom would be imparted in a wry, low-key, always thorough manner, and all packaged as if it was copy for a book. Jack's obvious love of words and language found its way into the most mundane exchanges in a way that would have me chuckling to myself after he had left."
"Whether meals for 4 or twenty, Jack and Jill were the ultimate hosts. His bonfires were epic, preceded by talk and libations leading up to the roaring fire, which always produced philosophical musings from the quality of wood on his land, to the antics and motivations of his dogs."
Most memories of Jack involve food - making it, sharing it, talking about it. The man could open the refrigerator, pick out three things, add seasoning, and create a delicious dinner. With that in mind, if you are so inclined, a donation in his memory to the Hoosier Hills Food Bank would be a wonderful thing.
Preceding Jack in death were his siblings, Patricia Templeton Patrick and Miles Patrick.
Jack is survived by his wife, Jill, who knew the minute she met him that she would marry him; by his nephew, Aaron Miles Mitchell-Patrick, along with numerous cousins, and by dozens of friends.
Those of you reading this who knew Jack likely are smiling right now. For those of you reading this who didn't know him, you missed out on some great food, superb problem-solving, and world-class mansplaining.
A memorial service will be held when people can hug one another again.
Born March 26, 1948, to Thomas Miles Patrick and Frances Sferra Patrick, Jack was the quintessential mid-century boy: he loved hunting, fishing, and camping. He might (or might not) have set fire to a neighbor's shrubbery, and he definitely sharpened one of his dad's knives on the edge of a sidewalk.
Jack attended Indiana University, where he pledged Kappa Sigma and made friends for life. He graduated in 1970 with a degree in English, which is surprising because it took him three tries to pass the required Shakespeare class. A lesser man would have changed his major.
After a brief stint in grad school, Jack spent several years doing all sorts of jobs: he was a Teamster while working for a railroad company, he trapped muskrats and sold the pelts, he worked in a seed factory, he was a silversmith. He might have been a hippie.
Once he began to settle down, Jack worked for over a decade as a manager for Goodman Jewelers, but wisely decided to start his own business as a contractor. While he never made a fortune, he made a great many homes better, and also made so very many friends.
Those good friends have some wonderful things to say about Mister P:
"In archaic English they called someone who knew something about everything a "man of parts." In nursery rhymes there is the house that Jack built. Jack really is the epitome of those two things."
"From Jack one could receive advice on how to mend a cracked pepper pot, including what kind of paint to disguise the crack once fixed and where to buy said paint, mending the internal mechanism of a rolling pin, how to clean antique rugs, the best place in Indianapolis to buy fish, where all the deer in Bloomington come from, the history of the oldest ginkgos in Bloomington and their locations, how to find morel mushrooms on Jack and Jill's property (ending with Jack giving us most of his own haul), and how to obtain a fish-filleting knife (Jack will give you one of his).
In other words, Jack was an amazing, always generous, resource - not just because he could do so much to fix and/or improve our house, but also because he simply knew so much. So often, these gems of wisdom would be imparted in a wry, low-key, always thorough manner, and all packaged as if it was copy for a book. Jack's obvious love of words and language found its way into the most mundane exchanges in a way that would have me chuckling to myself after he had left."
"Whether meals for 4 or twenty, Jack and Jill were the ultimate hosts. His bonfires were epic, preceded by talk and libations leading up to the roaring fire, which always produced philosophical musings from the quality of wood on his land, to the antics and motivations of his dogs."
Most memories of Jack involve food - making it, sharing it, talking about it. The man could open the refrigerator, pick out three things, add seasoning, and create a delicious dinner. With that in mind, if you are so inclined, a donation in his memory to the Hoosier Hills Food Bank would be a wonderful thing.
Preceding Jack in death were his siblings, Patricia Templeton Patrick and Miles Patrick.
Jack is survived by his wife, Jill, who knew the minute she met him that she would marry him; by his nephew, Aaron Miles Mitchell-Patrick, along with numerous cousins, and by dozens of friends.
Those of you reading this who knew Jack likely are smiling right now. For those of you reading this who didn't know him, you missed out on some great food, superb problem-solving, and world-class mansplaining.
A memorial service will be held when people can hug one another again.