Jack

I was trying to remember when I first met Jack Turcotte.  It was probably in 1973 at a Lawrence, Kansas bar called the Ball Park.  If my memory is correct Jack worked there as a bartender and I eventually did too.  What drew us both to the Ball Park was a game created by a group of University of Kansas professors that allowed you to play major league baseball teams against one another based on a random number generator.  But I digress.

Jack died last week.  I found out about his passing this morning from an old friend, Phil Wedge, who was close to Jack as well when we were in high school then in college together at K.U.  Jack was one of those special people that touches your life and leaves an indelible impact.  I want to write about friends like Jack because I want to remember them.  I want others to know what made them special.

John "Jack" Turcotte grew up in Chattanooga, Tennessee, the son of the superintendent of schools.  Jack was a pretty good high school baseball player and plenty smart.  He ended up at Kansas on a Navy ROTC scholarship even though he had been accepted at prestigious Vanderbilt University.

Jack and I became good friends around my freshman year at Kansas.  He was in his fifth year.  This was 1974. He wouldn't graduate until 1988.  It wasn't because Jack wasn't smart.  My goodness, I saw him once in our freshman biology class, just once.  You could skip all the tests and go for it all on the final.  Jack missed every class after the first day and skipped every test.  He took my awful notes and my textbook and got a B plus on the final.  

Jack was a distracted man.  Everything interested him.  I'm guessing he probably changed majors at least a half dozen times before finally graduating.  He must have had graduated with more than 200 credit hours and he even spent two more years at K.U. to earn his MBA.

Jack biggest love when I first met him were the Boston Red Sox.  He was born in Vermont which may explain his attachment to a baseball team in New England.  Shortly after getting to know Jack he met an even bigger love, Patricia McCoy, a sassy student at K.U. from Dodge City.  They got married pretty quickly after that.  

Those two loved to have a good time.  They loved their lives together.  Trisha made Jack a couple of T-Shirts that I will never forget.  One said, "Do it again, Fred Lynn."  She gave it to Jack shortly after Lynn's incredible rookie season of 1975 with the Sox.  The other was on the naughty side.  Trisha had snapped a picture of Jack doing his business on the toilet.  It was incredibly funny and Jack wore it proudly.

One of my favorite life memories was sitting in this little shack that Jack had rented drinking strawberry daiquiri's and spending hours creating baseball trivia.  We would pour through the Baseball Encyclopedia looking for obscure baseball facts.  I can only imagine how good Jack must have been at Trivial Pursuit.

Jack had this incredible beard.  He could shave twice a day.  He decided to have his facial hair removed with what I think was a laser.  I remember his red puffy face after the first treatment.  Jack got his whole face done and I think his beard was back in a year or so.  You just have to shake your head at that.

I think about three or four years into their marriage Jack and Trisha gave put their lives on  aa different path and devoted themselves to the Lawrence First Church of the Nazarene.  It was great decision for them.  Not long after they ended up moving into a house across the street from my mother.  They were great to my mom.  They were great to me when I needed their help in tough times.  

After Jack got his MBA they moved to Dayton, Ohio in the early 1990's.  I was so happy for Jack when he landed a job with NCR, National Cash Register.  We reached out to each other over email probably 20 years ago.  That was the last time I touched base with the man I also knew as Turk.

Much to the surprise of myself and Phil texted me a couple of days ago to tell me of Jack's passing.  The Turcotte's had moved back to Kansas without letting any of us know.  They had moved to Topeka, just 20 miles from Lawrence, where Jack dealt with heart failure.  His heart gave out.  I don't know if I ever knew anyone with a bigger heart than Jack Turcotte.  I wish I could be in Lawrence Friday for his funeral.  His old Lawrence friends will be and that I will have to settle for being there in spirit.