I met John when I was a student at Rice University where he is one of the founding managers of the non-profit graduate student run pub, Valhalla, which continues much the same as it was to this day in no small part thanks to John.  He got his doctorate in Solid State Physics from Rice and then worked as a researcher for Rice in Physics, Biophysics and later for Baylor College of Medicine in Neuroscience.  He was a good friend of the first great romantic love of my life, Peter Hershey, who was a Rice graduate student at the time and John quickly became one of my best friends as well.  John was a natural leader, a brilliant scientist, an inspiring teacher, mischievous, intellectual, fun, unconventional, tireless, caring and above all generous.

    John was the type of friend you could really count on.  When Peter struggled with his terrible illness (severe Manic-Depression) John and Patsy were among the few friends who would always come to his and my rescue, on more than one occasion, quite literally.  John and Patsy have both been great mentors to me throughout my career and always managed to seem genuinely interested in my work and full of great advice on dealing with the pressures of the laboratory, grants, colleagues and students.  When I moved away from Houston, John and Patsy were among the few friends who would come and visit me and I always looked forward to and treasured every moment I had with them.  Years later when Marcos and I had our truck stolen along with almost all our earthly possessions while on a visit to Houston, John and Patsy were chief among the friends who fed, sheltered and helped us find a way to get back home.  When Peter died, John helped lead everyone in organizing his memorial and celebrating what was good in his life.

    John was pretty much just as helpful to all of his friends of which there are many. And it wasn't just the big things or the dire crisis, whenever there was moving to be done, cars to be fixed, roofs to be put on, walls to be painted, there was more often than not some portion of the Valhalla crowd being led by John helping out.  John really fostered a sense of community, even family, among his friends and he was at the same time very forgiving of and fiercely loyal to them all.

    John had a clown like zest for life that is legendary, and he took great pleasure in the perfectly executed practical joke, or the most fantastic outrageous costume for a party, or a new variety of hot pepper that he and Patsy had grown in the garden, or some exotic new liqueur they had discovered and wanted to share.  Whenever I think of John he is laughing.  And that’s the way I think he would want all of us who were his friends to remember him.

    John really loved to gage people’s reactions when they saw the car for the first time.  I remember him telling me:  “There are basically three types.  People who are shocked at first and then try to ignore it and pretend it’s not there, which is kind of funny.  People who get mildly upset and irritated which can be kind of funny sometimes.  And then there are the people who might be startled at first but then really just suddenly get it and think it’s the most fantastic silly fun thing they’ve ever seen.  THOSE are the people that make it all worthwhile!!”  I definitely counted myself among the last group.

    The next morning I begged John to bring the car by the Medical School where I worked on his way out of town.  “My co-workers and students just have to see it!!”  He obliged and I made everyone in my department come outside to see it telling them only “It’s a surprise.”  Indeed everyone really enjoyed it, except for possibly our department chairman who remarked “Those guys must have waaaay too much time on their hands.”  (A classic misunderstanding of PhDs by MDs;-)  Little did he know how much he was mistaken . . . John didn’t have nearly enough time.  All the same I would argue very few people who ever lived on this planet made better use of it.