John "Jack" Joseph Tunney

Jack is my grandfather.

June 3, 1920 ~ June 23, 2009

Jack was the jazz man. It was as though all the musical notes in the world converged together and formed this trumpet playing performer. He could literally feel the music to the core of his being. It was obvious. You could see it when he closed his eyes to absorb the tune he was hearing. He was transported into another world—a world where only the love of his music existed. His toes tapped to the beat of the song. He snapped his fingers to its tempo. His body swayed with its melodic sounds. He hummed along with each note. He loved every bit of it. 

When he was older, he received a gift from his friend. It was a lamp made out of an old trumpet. Its shade had various text and memorabilia that emulated his personality and his love for music. I always loved that lamp. It really mirrored his love for his craft.

But before he picked up his first trumpet, Jack was a baby in the arms of his parents, Joe and Winnie Tunney. Born on June 3rd, 1920, he joined his older sister, Helen, in this growing family of, at least for now, four. The Tunneys hung their proverbial hat at 1701 West Colorado Avenue in Colorado Springs—in you guessed it, the state of Colorado. Within weeks of Jack's expectant arrival, his parents had moved out of Winnie's mother's home and into their own place, just eight blocks away. This was Jack's first home. However, I wonder if he remembered it, because he wasn't there for very long.

Jack's home at 3943 Park Blvd.

The Tunneys moved around a lot for the next few years. They moved to Los Angeles by 1925 where his brother Jim was born, completing this Tunney clan's family. Before long, they headed north to their adopted city in Oakland, California. They lived in at least two homes before moving to the iconic home where Jack would spend his formative years. This Park Blvd. home was where he taught himself how to play the trumpet. It was also where he met the love of his life at the age of 13. Needless to say, Park Blvd. played a significant role in Jack's life.

This home was purchased in the 1930's during the peak of the Great Depression. Jack always told me that his family felt the pangs of the  Depression. They weren't homeless like so many were during this time frame, but they needed to tighten their purse strings when it came to money matters. Regardless of the fact that this Tunney clan was not ever going to compete with the Rockefellers, it didn't seem to
matter all that much to Jack. He had a joyful childhood. He cavorted with his friends
around town and his journey was filled with fun and adventures. 

Jack makes it into the Oakland Tribune the day before his 11th birthday.

For example, as a teenager and young adult, Jack was an active tennis player with a Metropolitan League. His name was included with its other members in the Oakland Tribune on at least two occasions, when he was 16 and 20, so even post-high school, he was still playing. He played as a single and as a men's double player. He was ranked in the third class group out of four. So, he would never play at Wimbledon, but he must have loved the sport.

The Bay Bridge on the Opening Day Newsreel.

He had a lot of fun in his youth, but from a relatively early age, Jack also had to work. One of the stories that always captured my attention was that Jack was one of the people who helped to build the Bay Bridge. He worked on it the summer after he turned 16. The bridge would be completed in November of that same year. Building the bridge was not without its dangers either. Twenty-four people were killed during its construction. Thankfully, Jack lived to tell the tale.

Catholicism

Jack came from a long line of Catholics, and he himself was the most devout man I have ever known. He grew up attending parochial school. As a man, he attended church every morning. He taught his family the Lord's Prayer, which was recited before every meal. 

"Bless us, O Lord, and these, Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen."

To this day, I can hear him in my mind, leading our family in his recitation. 

While living in Oakland, he was not only a member of St. Jarlath's Parish, he attended school there. Jarlath is an unusual name, but St. Jarlath was a contemporary of St. Patrick in Ireland who had the gift of prophecy. In it's early days, St. Jarlath's had a strong Irish-American congregation, so I am certain the Tunneys felt right at home with its membership. The church was originally founded in Connaught, Ireland, which happens to be where some of our ancestors originate. According to its website, it is known to be one of the most Catholic in the Christian community.

The St. Jarlath's that Jack attended is no longer there. It was torn down in 1954 and a new structure was put up in another location. His church was on Fruitvale and Montana Streets. If I am not mistaken, Jack was an altar boy, although I have no record (as of yet) to confirm that. However, I can confirm that Jack was a member of the church choir and he sang during high mass. Moreover, he was involved in the committee for the church's whist game that was held on a Thursday evening once every month. Whist is a card game that was the forerunner for the game bridge that is played today. Jack was only 11 years old when he was on this committee that ran this group. So, clearly he was involved with his parish even at an early age.

As devout as he was, he never preached his religion to others. Sure, he would have loved for everyone to understand and love Catholicism as he did, particularly his family, but he would not condemn anyone for their beliefs. He didn't force his religion onto others. You didn't have to see things his way to be his friend. Love and be loved was more his style. I didn't know until I was an adult that he went to mass every day. He was quiet in his practice.

Nevertheless, his true nature showed me how much he loved God, by the way he treated everyone else—always with kindness and dignity. Even the postman (whomever the postman was during whatever decade it was) would say, "Good morning, John," to him every day, since Jack went outside to greet the postman anytime he was home. I don't know anyone else who goes outside to meet their postman in order to have a friendly word, but Jack always did. Simply put, this man lived his spirituality on a daily basis through acts of kindness.

Just a side note: as far as I know, the amalgam of postal workers were the only people who referred to him as John, because that was the name written on all his mail.

The Music Man

Jack's promo shot with the band.

As a youngster, Jack desperately wanted to learn to play the trumpet. His parents weren't able to afford to give him lessons, so to get around that he picked up a few books and he taught himself. He eventually joined the school band. In Jack's words, he "blew the horn the loudest at St. Jarlath's in Oakland, so they selected him."(1) I imagine he was able to hone in on his craft once he was in a classroom setting. By the time he was 18, he was playing professionally. This just shows his shear force of will and determination.

Professionally speaking, he had various odd jobs in his younger years. He worked in construction for a brief stint. He took a job in Fresno for 6 weeks the summer after he graduated from high school, although I am not sure what he was doing there. I do know that he had to pay for his college education, at San Francisco State Teacher's College (later to be renamed San Francisco State University) where he studied music. So, he worked nights when school started in the fall. He had other odd jobs, but music was at the heart of him. Since he was a teenager, he played the clubs. Sometimes he sang with a group, and sometimes he played his trumpet.

Working the clubs meant that he became a night owl. He often worked late into the night. His letters to Bette, even as early as 1938 when he was 18, mentioned that he was returning home around 1:30 in the morning after whatever gig he was performing at. I remember when he was in his 50's, he was returning home that late from whatever gig he was performing at, as well, but once he retired, his bedtime changed dramatically. Gone were the days of the late nights—but for many years, he was out until the wee hours of the morning, because that was when the music was happening.

On February 20th, 1941, Jack boarded the S.S. Lurline in San Francisco and headed for Hawaii. It took six days to cross the Pacific before he made it to Honolulu where he would call home for a short time.

At least part of the time he called 1919 Ala Wai Blvd home. He was employed at the Waikiki Lau Yee Chai Restaurant. "Back in the 40s and 50s Lau Yee Chai, at the corner of Kalakaua and Kuhio Avenues, was one of the premier restaurants and nightspots in Waikiki. It projected a glamorous Hollywood-inflected China with its ornate moon gate, red-gated carp pool and enormous rock garden and waterfall.

Lau Yee Chai in its heyday in the 1940's.

Rather unusually for a Waikiki establishment, Lau Yee Chai was popular with tourists and servicemen as well as locals, who remember it fondly as a spot for special occasions. (2)

Hawaii must have been a beautiful place to work, but his timing to come home couldn't have been more perfect, because he arrived at the mainland just weeks before Pearl Harbor was attacked. Jack was safe.

Jack is on the left.

Back at home he had to decide what to do next. It was obvious that music needed to be his career, but the music industry didn't always create a steady income. However, it was imperative that he play for the world. And he did. He figured out a way to bake his cake and eat it too. He enlisted into the Army in San Francisco on October 25th, 1941. As a result, he would become the newest member of the Army Band. He could play and get a regular paycheck. And the Army Band would keep him away from the fighting. He would never have to bare witness to the ravages of wartime.

While we don't often have images of earlier generations in the family, reading enlistment cards and and the like is a wonderful way to obtain information on the particular person's physical characteristics. Of course, we have pictures of Jack, but it's still interesting to note that on his enlistment card, he is listed as being 5'8 in height, and he weighed 148 pounds.

The card also showed that his phone number was Merritt-2712. Just seeing this old-style telephone number in print, conjures an image in my mind of our telephone history—a woman sitting at her switchboard connecting people over the wires. In the 1940's, a person could not just dial their phone to call someone directly, an operator had to work her magic to do it for you. I say her, because this was a profession for women. To make a call, the caller would speak to the operator first in order to tell her who they were calling. Then, she would plug in her various cords into an array of different jacks on the switchboard in front of her, and somehow by virtue of her work, she managed to connect the first party to reach the other line. Needless to say, it was a little more work than with our cell phones of today.

An operator with her switchboard.

Telephone history aside, Jack soaked in all the positive aspects of working in the military. He had the pleasure of not only playing his music every day, he had the pleasure of playing with many of the great artists of the day, as well. Some of which included: Nat King Cole, Steve Lawrence and Edie Gourmet, Rosemary Clooney (yep, that's George's aunt), Eddie Fisher (Carrie's dad), Lena Horne, Count Basie, Mary Martin (Broadway's "Peter Pan" and Larry Hagman's mother), and many others. He spoke highly of the famous singers he performed with over the years.

He told me a story about what a lovely man Nat King Cole was to him. It upset him greatly that this talented performer had to use the back doors to get into the clubs he performed at, and he wasn't allowed to live in most of the neighborhoods where he could afford, simply because of the color of his skin. I always felt comforted that my grandfather saw people for who they were inside and didn't judge them based on their appearance.

He traveled with the band to many states and on occasion to Canada too while he served, but he primarily worked in the Washington, D.C. area. In his tenure as a member of the band, he played for six of our presidents, from Franklin Delano Roosevelt to Richard Nixon. And he rose through the ranks from a private to a master sergeant by the time he retired a quarter of a century later.

While Jack was living in Rossmoor, he was interviewed by news correspondent, Abel Kessler. The following is an excerpt of an article posted in a local newspaper. Jack's direct quotes for the piece are italicized:

Jack with the "trumpet lamp" taken from the article.
(Photo by Damien Stark)

"...He played for his first president, FDR, during a ceremony at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in 1942. He vividly recalls his impression.

"There was an aura about President Roosevelt. I knew he was a special human being."

"Young Tunney noted FDR's smiling face as he got out of his limousine laboriously, due to his polio condition.

" He gave me a living lesson on how a bad break can be dealt with courageously."

"Harry Truman was next on the Tunney list of presidents.

"It was at Fort Meyer soon after FDR's death. I wondered how he could fill Roosevelt's shoes—but he went on to become one of my heroes."

"Later Tunney had General Douglas MacArthur in the audience. The general's famous "Old soldiers never die" speech was the feature of the occasion.

"Out of the army in 1945, Tunney discovered that the day of the big civilian bands was over, due to TV and other reasons. So, he joined a quintet and later a trio as downsizing prevailed.

"But the U.S. Army Band still wanted Tunney so he put on his uniform again. He played at Dwight D. Eisenhower's inaugural to begin his "president collection" again.

"Steve Lawrence and Eddie Fisher were among the performers in the U.S. Army Band.

"I remember Steve Lawrence well. He knew the names of everyone in the band. Eddie Fisher tried, but he couldn't make it."

"The Jack Kennedy inaugural will always remain in Tunney's memory.

"I was assigned to play the long herald's horn at seven parties. When President Kennedy arrived at each function, I blew Hail to the Chief."

"The Walnut Creek resident describes Mrs. Jacqueline Kennedy as "beautiful, poised and graceful."

"With sadness in his voice, Tunney recalls performing at Kennedy's funeral. Brothers Bobby and Teddy were in attendance. But the lasting impression was by the president's small son, John-John, saluting as the hearse went by.

"Soon after this, L.B. Johnson joined Tunney's list of presidents he played for. Richard Nixon was actually vice president to Ike when he was in Jack's audience... " (3)

Jack was a part of history, not just in the every day sense. Through his career, he actually witnessed important historical events happening around him. And on a personal note, I can almost hear Jack speaking, as I read these words again from this article that I read so many years ago.

His music career continued after his army days were over too. After moving back to California, after a long stint in Virginia, he worked by day at Sears and by night, he "became a member of the Bohemian Club where he spent many years playing with his friends." (4)

After cancer took away his ability to play, he purchased a small keyboard so he could still play an instrument, but his trumpet playing days were now complete.

He had more than one trumpet. I tried playing one of them once and after blowing into it, not a single musical note was formed, just a loud breathy noise was all that I could manage to get the thing to do. It was then when I realized how challenging it was to play.

After his playing days were over, he still did something about it. He paid it forward.

One of Jack's trumpets that we still have.

It was Christmas and Kim and Stan's niece was in town for the holiday. The extended family had never met this girl before, but she seemed very sweet. Prior to her arrival, Jack had heard that her parents could no longer afford some aspect of her trumpet playing. Either they could no longer give her trumpet lessons or maybe they couldn't afford to buy her the trumpet. I can't remember exactly. The important part of this story was Jack's response to what he heard.

Being the kind and generous man that Jack always was, he decided to bestow a gift to this girl whom he had never met. The room was filled with a variety of family members, all of whom, only minutes before, were chatting away. But the moment we knew what was going to happen next, you could hear a pin drop as his prized possession made its way from a back room into the living room where we all were. It felt like Moses and the parting of the Red Sea as the case made its way into the living room and was placed before this young woman. The family understood the significance of his endowment and as the trumpet, that for years was literally a part of Jack's essence, was brought out, I felt a sense of awe and wonder. He told her that he wanted her to have his trumpet. Needless to say, not only was she overwhelmed with emotion, we all were overwhelmed with emotion. There wasn't a dry eye in the house.

His acts of kindness never ceased to inspire me. He truly was an amazing teacher in showing us how to be grateful and how to be kind in your daily life. In my view, he was a great man.

Jack and Bette

J & B in San Francisco in the early 40's.

One of the most beautiful part of Jack's story involved his sweetheart, Bette. The two of them together were like two peas in a proverbial pod. Nearly lifelong friends and partners in life, they had the marriage I most admired. Through thick and thin they were in it together.

They grew up on the same street. It only took a mere four minutes to walk to one another's home. From the beginning they always had a special connection. Bette loved her trumpet playing boy from down the street and Jack was beyond smitten himself. While they did break up for a couple of years when they were teenagers, it didn't take long for them to sort out what needed to be sorted out.

He and Bette would grab the Park Blvd. trolley and head out to an endless sea of possibilities. They went to local fairs. They frequented local clubs, where they listened to music. They went to a plethora of parties. And they went out dancing too. In fact, in 1939, he filled out her entire dance card. In those days, women had dance cards and men would sign up for a particular dance, but she was his lady and they only had eyes for each other.

Jack and Bette also often traveled by ferry, before the Bay Bridge was constructed, to visit the City across the Bay with all its pleasures. San Francisco was almost like a second home to them. They loved the lights, the restaurants and all the fun that was waiting for them there. It was a simpler time when life was filled with frivolity and Jack and Bette made the most out of participating in various adventures.

J & B with his father Joe, sister Helen and nephew Phil.

In 1943, Jack lived on the East Coast when he sent a special card with a Christmas gift. The gift that we would all see for years to come was the ring that solidified their engagement.

The following year, Jack took a brief furlough from his duties in the army and headed to California to marry his beloved. He and Bette married on August 12th in a morning ceremony at St. Margaret Mary's Church in Oakland, which is a mere hop, skip and a jump away from where they grew up. 

It is interesting to note that Phil, Helen's son, was the first born child of the next generation of family cousins, and the only one who had made his way into the world at this point. Nearly seventy-five years after Jack and Bette's wedding took place, he is in the unique position of being the only living relative who attended Jack and Bette's wedding.

***

Two and half years later, on January 2nd, 1947, their first child, Patrick, was born in Oakland.

Since affordable housing was difficult to find in the D.C. area during the war years, Bette and Pat still lived with her parents in Oakland, while Jack lived in Virginia. For months, Jack looked for an apartment for his family of three to live in. There was a lot of competition and a lot of frustration in his search to find a home. He had found one apartment he liked, but it was the exorbitant price of $80 per month, and they simply could not afford it. Yes, I wrote $80 a month. It's hard to believe the difference in rental prices from today's standards, but the price was relative. Their incomes were a lot lower too. So, $80 at the time was simply too much.

Eventually, Jack decided to be clever when he placed an advertisement in the paper written from the nearly 2-year-old, Pat. In it, toddler Pat announces that "he" was searching for the perfect home for him and his parents. Not long after the ad was posted, Bette & Pat joined him in Virginia at their new home. Jack was certainly resourceful. He used humor to plead his case—and it worked.

Three more children joined this Tunney clan while they lived in Virginia. In 1949 Chris was born. Kim was born in 1955, and Kathi completed this Tunney family in 1960.

J & B and their kids.

Jack and Bette had many friends in Virginia, but Bud and Pat Wilson became a part of their extended family. Kathy Wilson (later Milks) became like a third sister to my dad, Pat, and they are still friends today. Bud was in the Army band too, and he was nothing short of the class clown. He loved to make children laugh.

In 1964, Jack retired from the Army Band and in December of that year, the family moved back to California. For perhaps three weeks or so, they temporarily lived with his brother and sister-in-law, Jim and Gloria, and their family where they celebrated a jolly Christmas with the extended family. Not long afterwards, they moved to Concord, where all their kids graduated from high school.

Eventually, after their children were grown and were out of the house, Jack and Bette moved to Vallejo for many years, where the had their house on the hill overlooking their city. Finally, after Jack left his working years behind him for good, they settled in the retirement community called Rossmoor in Walnut Creek.

Rossmoor may have been home, but for the next twenty years after they retired, they traveled the world. They went to so many countries and really savored each of these locations. Jack always told the stories about their travels. Two of which stand out the most for me.

When they were in Ireland, Jack found a telephone book and contacted the first Tunney that was listed. The man at the other end of the line answered in his Irish brogue, "Cousin Tunney, you must stay with us!"

And they did! They stayed with strangers and enjoyed their company.

When they were in Italy, Jack bore witness to the most dapper man he had ever seen. The man was beautifully dressed in his white three-piece suit, which showed off his bronzed skin. Jack was really impressed by how he looked, but when he moved closer to him, the man smelled so badly, he wanted to gag. I never saw the man in the white suit personally, but I feel as though I had through Jack's tale.

The Letters

J & B at the Wilson's home.

In 1938, an extraordinary thing happened, at least for us, the descendants. When Jack was just eighteen years old, he began to write his beloved the most heartfelt letters. The letters would continue through 1955. Initially, they were written while Bette was on summer holiday with her parents. They were later written while he was living in Hawaii, then when he was in the Army during World War II and beyond. They either lived on different coasts, or when they did move in together, he spent time travelling with the band. So, there were reasons to send letters. They took long distance relationships to a whole new level. Telephone calls were extraordinarily expensive, but letter writing was simply the cost of paper, the stamp, and the love he felt to make the time for it.

Over 700 pages of letters are still in existence today. There is a lot of love through these pages. Additionally, Bette had the "too private for family viewing" letters, which apparently were a large amount of these letters, shredded. So, there were actually more than the copies we have today. While Bette's letters to Jack are all missing (meaning these may be the ones that were shredded), the reader can still sense the "two-way" conversation between these lovers through Jack's letters. They are an extraordinary gift.

I put the letters in the order that they were written, and it's a miraculous thing to hear Jack's voice from the time he was a teenager, through the time when he had a family. His "voice" literally transformed before my eyes, as I read his words.

In the letters Bette was "Bett" or "my darling." And until he became a father, he signed his letters, "Jackson". After Patrick was born, he often signed his letters, "Daddy."

Some of the letters began:

"My darling:

"Your letter came yesterday and lifted me out of the world..."

"Bett darling:

"I'm a little mixed up these days trying to remember all the little things there are to be done, think of you, do my work—and still try to look as sane as possible..."

"My darling fiancé: 

"I'm so happy and so proud of you I could bust. You haven't sent a letter that wasn't wonderful, Bett—but the last two were too much. You just have that cute little knack of pouring out your heart in a way that makes me tingle from head to toe..."

"Bett, darling:

"You're so sweet to go to all the trouble of finding my birth certificate, seeing the priests all over town, and arranging the necessities at the Pine. I feel mighty proud and thoughtful that I'm marrying such a fine little character who realized how tough things are to arrange when I'm clear over on the other side of the island..."

Many gems like these exist. As long as he lived far away, or if he was traveling with the Army Band, he wrote his letters. Even though he lived in Virginia and she was in California, there love remained strong. Eventually, he retired and he was home for good. So, the letter writing was no longer necessary. However, there was one more trinket that I found, but I first I have to explain how I came to find it.

Jack and Bette and I shared a love for the artist Claude Monet. For years, I knew I didn't need to buy a calendar for the year, because they would buy me a Monet calendar. After Bette passed, my parents found one of my grandparents books on Claude Monet and they asked if I wanted it. I heartily said, "Yes, please!" Later that night when I flipped through the pages, I found a card that Jack had written to Bette when they were somewhere in their twilight years. They had been grandparents for years by then and the younger generation of grandchildren called Bette, "Boppi", and Jack, became "Da"—and he adopted those names between the two of them, as well.

"My Darling Bop—

"I keep saying it over and over—I love you, I love you, & never get tired of saying it !

"Merry Chirstmas.

"All my love,

"Da

"P.S. A Rose for my Lady"

Even when they were senior citizens, there passion for one another never waned.

His Final Days

Jack had suffered from two bouts of cancer.

He was also diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease in the last seven years of his life. For two and half years, Peter Goyma was his in-home caregiver, who became a part of the family during that time. He was always there and he was always a delight to be around. He took very good care of Jack, and Jack adored him, which was the most important thing.

While at home in Rossmoor, Jack passed away on June 23rd, 2009 due to complications with Parkinson's. He died after three days of moving in and out of consciousness. My father, Patrick, was with him as he took his last breath.

For twenty years, Jack and Bette told me (and others in the family) that they wanted to have their ashes scattered together over the ocean. We would have to wait for the scattering for the moment until Bette was ready to join him. In the meantime, his memorial was celebrated at St. Anne's Church in Rossmoor.

His Irish Heritage

I always felt connected to my Irish roots. In large part this is due to Jack. He loved everything Irish. Every single ancestor from his side of the family that I have found thus far had Irish roots. So, his Irishness ran deep.

When I was a child, Jack and Bette had a home with emerald green carpeting and emerald green accents. Irish sayings hung in the rooms for all to see. And there were shamrocks sprinkled into the design. So, it's no wonder I have always connected to my Irish roots. It was always out there for me to see and to absorb into my consciousness.

One of the things I always remember reading at Jack and Bette's was An Old Irish Blessing. It was also on his funeral program. So, in honor of Jack's pride towards his heritage, I choose to share it here:

Our Memories of Jack:

From Pat:

The first memory that popped into my head happened when I was a kid. Kim is eight years younger that I am. I was about eleven at the time so she would have been three. She was playing in the neighbor's backyard, maybe three or four doors down. Dad and I were outside in our own yard where we had a split rail fence that was about three and half feet high.

Suddenly, I could hear Kim screaming from the neighbor's yard. The sound startled me. In almost the same moment, I saw my dad take off. He tore through the yard and then hurdled over Every. Single. Fence—without touching a single one in order to get to my sister. Watching my dad fly through the air like that made quite an impression on me. He wasn't a super hero. He wouldn't have wanted to be called that. He was simply a man who loved his child and would have done anything to protect her. My sister came home and all was well in the world, but that experience affected me to the core on that day and I will never forget it.

From Mary:

Today, I was cleaning out the glassware in the bar area. We have thirty years worth of glasses in the cabinet and it was time to decide what we should keep and what needs to go. As I picked up one of the glasses, I felt Jack's presence with me. Years before, we (Pat and I) were married, Jack gave us a set of six high ball glasses. When I lifted the first one from the box all those years ago, I exclaimed, "Wow, this really feels good in my hand!"

These glasses are heavy with most of their weight at the bottom of the cylinder. There is something about them that just feels good.

In response to my enthusiasm, I'll never forget what he told me. "A high ball glass should always have weight and should feel good in your hand. A high ball is only as good as the glass you drink from."

Recalling his words, I could see him in my mind's eye cradling the bottom of the glass, just as he always did.

From Pat in response to Mary's telling of this story:

Lisa, I don't want to tell you what to write, but for me, just hearing Mary tell this story transports me back to the time when he gave the glasses to her. I wasn't even in the room, but just hearing Mary's conviction regarding this story, makes me feel as though I were there watching my dad hand her the glasses and tell her all about how special they are. It's really impactful for me.

From Mary again:

He also made his famous Ramos Fizzes every Easter. Ohhh, they were soooo good !!

From Susie:

"This is one was told to me by Jack & Helen.  They were very close & Jack loved to tease Helen.  There must have been a laundry chute in one of Nana & Joe's homes because Jack would stand at the top of the chute & beg Helen to put her head in the bottom of the chute saying he had to tell her something. He would promise her he wouldn't do anything, but would always take a wet towel & drop it down so it would land on her head. He played this trick on her many times & my Mom would always fall for it. She had a great sense of humor & she adored her younger brother.

"As for a story that comes from me directly, for several years I worked in Livermore & I would often go to Jack & Bette's for dinner when they lived in Rossmoor.  I knew how to get to their home from Alameda, but from Livermore it was more complicated because there was a back way to get to their home that I wasn't familiar with, especially when it got dark early.

There was a little bridge close to their home & Jack would wait for me there so that I could follow him home. (I would call them when I left work & Bette told me Jack would leave right away --- he must have sat there for at least an hour).

The joke that we always made was if a police officer stopped & asked Jack why he was parked there, he would say, "Oh, I am waiting for my niece!"     

"Yeah right!!!!!

"Jack & Bette were the best!!!! I was so lucky to have these amazing people in my life."

From Me (Lisa):

* When I was maybe five or six, Jack and I had a Vaudvillian-like routine that we performed in front of the family at holidays. All I remember now, is that I was supposed to ask Jack a question and his response was, "I can't hear you, I have a banana in my ear!" And he would pull out a banana and put it in his ear. Which then turned into, "I can't hear you, I have a yardstick in my ear!" And he would pull out the yardstick from his ear. I thought he was the funniest person alive.

* To say that Jack had a sweet tooth would have been an understatement. He inherited his love for chocolate from his father, but I think he took his love of chocolate, in particular, to a whole new level. I don't mean that he ate everything chocolate all day long. What I do mean, is that he savored every bite.

He had a clear jar of mini Hershey chocolates. He would invite me to pick one. I always picked the red packaged Krackle. He always picked the traditional Hershey Bar. These chocolates are bite-sized, so all I wanted to do was unwrap it and stick it my mouth. That's where Jack's lesson came in.

He taught me to slowly and methodically open the outer paper and then the aluminum foil wrapping. There was no rush to get to the chocolate. This was about the experience. When the morsel was finally unwrapped, I was told to wait. He didn't want me to pop the entire thing in my mouth, but rather, I was to take small nibbles and really allow the flavor of the chocolate to swirl around my mouth.

I couldn't help but giggle when we had our chocolate lesson, but as an adult, I realize now, it was  a lesson on a larger scale. The message was told through chocolate, but what he was really saying was to take time and enjoy everything life has to offer.

If you would like to share one of your personal stories about Jack, please send it to me via email and I will add it here for you.

Jack was given this "newspaper" on his 70th birthday.
It shows some interesting facts about his birthdate.

Supposition:

* Years after they were married, Jack mailed Bette a postcard booklet that had a variety of pictures of Niagara Falls in it. There wasn't any text in it, just the images. After discovering they went to Niagara Falls for their honeymoon, I think that just sending the images to her was all that was needed for their understanding of their secret language of love.

Interesting Fact:

* I learned through 23andMe that through the Tunney paternal line, we are related to Niall of the Nine Hostages, who was crowned High King of Ireland in 379 a.d. I also learned that the Gallagher family line is related to him, as well. He may or may not be a direct line ancestor, but we are related in some fashion. Niall apparently has 2 - 3 million ancestors today around the world.

The Meaning of Jack's Names:

Personal Name Meaning:

Jack had his legal first name that he never changed. All legal documents had John as his name. His mail was addressed to John, as well, so on some level, he connected with this name. Therefore, I include both his legal name and his chosen name here:

John ~ Hebrew Meaning: The name John is a Hebrew baby name. In Hebrew the meaning of the name John is: Jehovah has been gracious; has shown favor. In the bible John the Baptist baptized Christ in the Jordan river. Variants have been created in almost every language.

Jack ~ The name Jack is an English baby name. In English the meaning of the name Jack is: God is gracious. During the Middle Ages, Jack was so common that it was used as a general term for 'man' or 'boy'. Famous Bearer: American actor Jack Lemmon.

Surname Meaning: Tunney ~ Irish (now rare): reduced form of O'Tunney, an Anglicized form of Gaelic Ó Tonnaigh 'descendant of Tonnach', a personal name meaning either by the sea or by the wetlands.

(1) Excerpt from his own words in Abel Kesller's piece on Jack's time in the Army Band.

(2) Excerpt from Waikiki Time Machine Blog
(3) Excerpt from Abel Kessler's piece on Jack's time in the Army Band.
(4) Excerpt from his obituary written by Bette.