John T. McDaniel

John T. “Jack” McDaniel

On March 8, 2011, of Washington Twp. Age 68. Beloved husband of Marie. Devoted father of Jacqueline Melendez, Sean McDaniel and his wife Vicki and Maria McDaniel. Loving grandfather of Alyssa and Nathan. Dear brother of Joseph, George, Thomas, James, Karen and the late Vincent McDaniel. Also survived by many loving nieces and nephews.

Services will be private at the convenience of the family.

In lieu of flowers, donations in Jack’s memory may be made to the American Cancer Society, 1851 Old Cuthbert Rd., Cherry Hill, NJ 08034.

“A Life Well Lived Is Worth Remembering.”

When I learned of Jack’s passing, I found out it was exactly when I looked up and saw the moon was a quarter moon, which seems to me now as though the moon was flying at half-staff. I don’t share the benefit of many uninterrupted years of having seen Jack day-to-day. Most of my experiences have been through the eyes of a child or from my visits during vacations. But let me share some of my fondest memories:

Jaws – In the year or so that Jaws stayed in theaters not the multiplexes we know now, but a simpler time when you went to A theater to see A show Pop tried unsuccessfully to take me to the Colonial Theater. The show was sold out and I remember crying the whole way home. Later on, Jack and Marie took me to see the movie in a green “PA Bell” van while they were still only dating. To this very day I can’t say which I enjoyed more, the movie or the ride.

Jack and Marie took me camping at Bass River. Aside from those green-eyed flies that bit you every chance they got, Jack took this “city boy” fishing for the first time. I caught a few tiny fish that Jack made me feel were the size of orca whales.

I’ll never forget Jack would pay-per-view wrestling to watch with me. This is probably my fondest memory of him as we watched Bob Backlund win the heavyweight championship bout.

Later on, I returned to North Carolina with Aunt Vivian, Uncle Roy, Roy Junior and Linda to visit for a few weeks after their visit with us. It isn’t hard to guess who delivered this newspaper boy’s papers for those two weeks is it? Yes, it was Jack. And it was Jack who drove mom the 550 miles each way to take me home as well.

Jack took me horseback riding once at the Wisahiccon. I remember being awestruck at how well he rode horses. He looked to me more comfortable in a saddle than he ever looked in the seat of a car. All my life, I’ve only known one true cowboy and that was Jack.

Mom passed away in 1978. Jack and Marie took Franny and me into their home. I fondly remember eating Steak-um sandwiches and crinkle cut fries and laughing together like families did back then without TiVo as we sat out on the porch during hot summer Philadelphia nights.

I remember all of us piling into Jack’s Oldsmobile Toronado and going to Great Adventure while the animal park was still there letting us drive up to the animals. Some of the animals were scarier or funnier than others. But we all laughed at the baboons until they jumped on our vehicle…then we screamed. All of us but Jack!

My first car was a 1968 Plymouth Sport Suburban that Jack arranged to sell to Pop after Jack’s dad passed away.first car and first car accident five minutes apart. Scraping Jack’s car as I was pulling away I was horrified. Jack simply took the wheel and pulled the car forward letting me drive away and he never mentioned it again to my knowledge. This was typical Jack!

Jack never skipped a beat without his voice-box. He learned how to make us understand him and never showed disappointment when we couldn’t. As time went by, I all but forgot he had his larynx removed. His overwhelming strength is easy for anyone to see when pointed out. Yet, it was his ability to overcome adversities such as cancer with such a self-assured quiet strength that made him a remarkable person I could only hope to emulate.

I added one of my favorite poems, “What did you do with your dash?” To me Jack had a great “dash” and will live on in my thoughts and memories of him. He loved being a husband, father, brother, and cowboy. He made everyone around him love him for the down to earth person he was. I truly believe he is now looking down on us and watching over us.

Love, Mark

How Do You Live Your Dash

I read of a man who stood to speak at the funeral of a friend.
He referred to the dates on her tombstone from the beginning… to the end.
He noted that first came her date of birth and spoke the following date with tears,
but he said what mattered most of all was the dash between those years. 1934-1998
For that dash represents all the time that she spent alive on earth…
and now only those who loved her know what that little line is worth.
For it matters not, how much we won; the cars…the house…the cash,
what matters is how we live and love and how we spend our dash.

So think about this long and hard.. are there things you’d like to change?
For you never know how much time is left, that can still be rearranged.
If we could just slow down enough to consider what’s true and real,
and always try to understand the way other people feel.

There is no way to describe Jack in a few words, but to start, he was one of the most kind, gentle, sweet, loving, giving, patient, and humble people anyone could meet. He was always willing to help anyone no matter what the circumstances were. His smile never left his face and he never once uttered a bad word about anyone. Everyone who came in contact with Jack instantly became fond of his genuine personality.

He was our family photographer, always there for all the special events, taking pictures. He knew how to capture the moment as it was meant to be remembered. Without him, our best memories would be undocumented. Jack got great joy out of watching all of our children grow up. One day they will be able to sit down and look at all of the pictures he has taken and remember how special he was.

Jack truly appreciated the simple things in life. He was happiest when he was fishing, camping at Bass River, horseback riding, or spending time with his family. He didn’t take one moment of life for granted. Even after he got sick, he never complained or looked for sympathy. He never let his illness disable him. He still went grocery shopping, drove Marie to work, played with Alyssa and Nathan, and made his daily coffee run to Dunkin’ Donuts.

Although we are going to miss you, you will always live in our hearts and our memories. We know you are up in heaven now, with the rest of the angels, keeping us safe and watching over us!

Love,
Felicia