Jack was always creating or working on something in the garage. I always felt honored when he would request my ‘little hands’ to accomplish something he couldn’t reach.
Jack was always a faithful friend that kept in touch by phone.. He and I were big talkers, once when he called my husband, Kelly visited with him a few minutes then he handed me the phone and said ,”Here you girls talk for a while.” It made us laugh because Jack and I could talk for hours.”
I loved Jack like a brother and talked to him like a brother. I would say “Jack you need to do this or that, Get over it , Be nice ect.” I don’t know why he put up with me.
I will miss him.
Jack was my friend. As a friend, he was willing to tell you what you needed to hear even if it was not what you wanted to hear. He shot straight.
He could growl like a grizzly bear, yet at the core of his being, he had the heart of a teddy bear. With Jack, what you saw is what you got–no sham, no pretense, and no put on. He was “for real.”
I believe Jack loved God. He loved the Word of God. He loved the people of God. He loved his family and friends. And, I loved him.
Nelson beard, Jack and I always plan to go fishing somewhere on the Golf. Never did keep our appointment. Guess we will have to set a date on the other side. Sure the fish will bite better there.
JW was my friend. I called him Grampa. We worked on the NY Pipeline together in 2008 for several months. Our crew was together 90 plus hours a week, and then we spent our day off on Sunday together most of the time. We all looked forward to seeing each other every day, and looked out for each other, We was family. I loved this man like he really was my grampa, and enjoyed his stories very much. He taught me to make walking sticks. I cherish the one he made for me. He was a good man and loyal friend. JW talked about his wife and family every day and I knew he missed them very much. I am blessed to have worked with him, and know him. Until we meet again … RIP my dear friend, Ruth Huntington, Turner, Maine
Jack was my father-in-law and he was a good Opa to my kids. Hurts my heart thinking about them growing up without him. He always made them light up with joy at seeing him, no matter what disposition he was in. They loved their Opa and he charmed them simply by talking to them and holding them on his lap.
One of the many things I will miss about him is the way he would argue with Jason about which one of them was argumentative (they would argue that the other one was the argumentative one). They could easily go back and forth all day. We would all have a good laugh once they realized what they were doing.
I have known Jack since we lived in Corpus Christi in the 1980s. Jack moved to New Braunfels and I later went to work for the federal government EEOC in San Antonio in 2000. I attempted to reconnect with Jack via telephone information; however, the operator’s search found no Dunsmore in either San Antonio or the surrounding area. I decided Jack must have moved out of state so I gave up looking for him. Six months later a very strange thing happened, Jack appeared at my EEOC office wanting to file. Another strange coincidence; I just happen to be one of the sixteen investigators assigned to intake that week and just happened to be assigned to interview Jack by the receptionist. I could not believe that the name on the intake assignment assigned to me was in fact Jack Dunsmore. I asked the receptionist to point this person out to me in the reception room and she point to a man that had his back to me. I approached the man with his back to me and said Mr. Dunsmore and he turned around and pointed his finger at me and said “I know you”. I laughed and said yes you do know me and advised Jack that this could not have been a coincidence some how the forces in the Universe i.e., God made this happen. My mother always told me that thoughts are things so be careful what thoughts you put out there. That day Jack and I reconnected and he will be missed.
I never knew JW as Jack. He was always JW to me.
As JW said to me once, friendships are worthwhile to keep, We stayed intouch through the years after the millenium pipeline job. I will miss JW’s voice on the phone telling me it’s triple digits and brown in Texas while I’m on the other end of the phone on my back porch, because it is the only place where I get cell service, sitting in a cool breeze; the temperature is sixty degrees and the grass is green in Pennsylvania. However, In the winter, I would freeze on my back porch talking to JW on my cell phone and he would say, “Guess what? It’s eighty degrees here in Texas.”
I will greatly miss my dear friend.
sincerely, Lois Bennett
I never knew JW as Jack. He was always JW to me.
As JW once said, friendships are worthwhile, and so we stayed in-touch through the years after working together in 2008 in NY State on the millennium pipeline.
I will miss JW’s voice on the phone telling me that it’s triple digits and brown in Texas while I’m on the other end of the phone sitting in a cool breeze on my back porch, because it is the only place where I can get cell service — the temperature is sixty degrees and the grass is green in Pennsylvania. However, in the winter, I would freeze on my back porch talking to JW on my cell phone and he would say, “Guess what? It’s eighty degrees in Texas.”
I will greatly miss my dear friend.
Jack and I were cousins. Our mothers were sisters. I did not know Jack as an adult although we did speak by phone. I remember him mostly as a child six years younger than I was. He and his family lived in Brownsville while I lived with our Grandfather in Indiana. But I remember him as a bit of a prankster with a ready smile for everyone at all times. I remember him giving his gringo cousins quick lessons in Spanish if and when his family visited Indiana. I guess it was actually Harlingen rather than Brownsville. Anyway at least half the Spanish I know was taught by my cousin Jack.
Is it inappropriate for a spouse to write on her husband’s memorial page- one meant for expressions by those who were his friends and who were touched by his life? In my mind, I can hear him say, “Go for it!”. I want to tell the world that it doesn’t yet fully appreciate exactly how much has been lost with his passing. He was truly one of few remaining men- those of an age that hold fast to the belief that men are responsible for the care and protection of their women- old- fashioned in his notions and expressions of chivalry. Many women these days would “balk”, but oh how it could make one feel loved, secure, and cared for! How many men are there still who, secure in their own masculinity, think nothing of carrying the wife’s purse through a crowded mall, simply because he doesn’t want her bearing any more burdens than necessary? Or who would insist that as long as a man is around, a woman shouldn’t be pumping her own gas? Even in his latter years, as he seemed to grow more ill with each passing month, he would insist on taking care of me in any way that he could. And when I would tell him “no”, concerned for his physical health, he would argue and insist “you’re so stubborn!” And “you’re so strong willed!” How I long to hear those words again! It just wasn’t in his nature to let a woman “fend for herself”. The world and women of today are that much poorer, without men at their sides who still hold to those deeply ingrained attitudes of chivalry and care. He was so talented, and in so many areas, that I truly thought there was nothing he could not handle- that he had the knowledge, means, and strength of will necessary in order to overcome any and every obstacle placed in his path. How secure and safe he made me feel! He was so humble at heart, often bemoaning that he wasn’t an “educated” man- but how deeply untrue was that notion of his! He was a true “renesaince” man, with the knowledge, skills, and ability to craft a host of diverse projects and ideas. He was an “artist”- a true artist who never fully appreciateed the depths of that knowledge and those skills. And boy was he a “people person”- talking to and befriending any and everyone who crossed his path. I can’t number the times I’ve stopped at various stores, even pharmacies, giving them my name…..only to be met with “Oh! YOU’RE JW’s wife!”
I will miss him so! He was my “Dear”…and I was his “Darling”…pet names we had for each other (so much so that this is how we were listed in each other’s respective cell phones)-remaining still, despite our not infrequent “clash of wills”. As long as I have my memories, I have him…and when that thought isn’t enough to sustain me, I wrap myself wround with his big, warm robe, envisioning his arms around me.
Once again, if this is inappropriate- for me to write in an area reserved for family and friends- I beg your understanding. I want to express to the WORLD the magnitude of the loss of my “Dear”.
How does the song go? “You don’t know what ya got till its gone”- how true is that saying! How so very, very true!
The man most people know as Jack Dunsmore my brothers and I know as Opa. That was one of the special things about this man; to some he was Jack, the dedicated and hardworking co-worker, to another he was “grampa”, the same dedicated worker. My father and Jason had the privilege of calling him “dad”. Some of his friends knew him as “JW,” the man who ALWAYS had something to say. He was the hardest and most skilled worker, most loving husband to Karen, and one of the most caring family members, even with one of the toughest exterior a person can have. He was an opinionated, devoted man, who was never afraid to speak his mind, stood up for what he believed in, and would go out of his way to support his family, constantly putting them before himself. I remember one of the few times my dad dropped me and my brothers off at Opa’s house to be watched when we were younger. While playing hide and seek with Opa’s step-sons, my little brother Justin got stuck in a trash can. It was quite an event having everyone watch Opa pull my little brother out. But that was one of Opa’s ways of teaching up. He would sometimes let us get into a little mischief and find out what to and not do. But no matter what, he was always there to get us out of trouble…and trashcans. And I can say to this day, Justin has never climbed into another trashcan. So lesson learned. Last year, I wrote Christmas cards early. I wrote Opa’s before I knew the extent of his condition of sickness. I noted on his Christmas card that we should get together for lunch as soon as he starts feeling better. When I went to visit him in the hospital we even started planning this lunch in greater detail. We never did get to have that lunch. So, if you decide to come back to my dad’s home for the reception, remember Jack in your doing so and have the lunch we never got to. I ask of everyone here, don’t wait to make plans with your loved ones when the timing is right because sometimes it never is unless you make it be. Don’t wait for the time to be right; make it right.
-Allison Dunsmore
Worked with Jack At Gary Job Corps for many years. I called him Jack attack
at work because every time he would get a project he would attack it until it
was finished. One great Man.
Jack was always my favorite cousin of the 4 boys since we were small
children. Jack kept in touch through all these years and we talked
on a regular basis across the miles. His visits to California always
left me with some kind of improvement around our house–a fence,
tile in a bathroom, a new cabinet and other little projects. He liked
to keep busy, go places, do things, meet people and never seemed
to meet a stranger. He was a master craftsman and indeed knew
many crafts. I could always get good advise from “Mr. Fixit”.
Jack was always creating or working on something in the garage. I always felt honored when he would request my ‘little hands’ to accomplish something he couldn’t reach.
Jack was always a faithful friend that kept in touch by phone.. He and I were big talkers, once when he called my husband, Kelly visited with him a few minutes then he handed me the phone and said ,”Here you girls talk for a while.” It made us laugh because Jack and I could talk for hours.”
I loved Jack like a brother and talked to him like a brother. I would say “Jack you need to do this or that, Get over it , Be nice ect.” I don’t know why he put up with me.
I will miss him.
Jack was my friend. As a friend, he was willing to tell you what you needed to hear even if it was not what you wanted to hear. He shot straight.
He could growl like a grizzly bear, yet at the core of his being, he had the heart of a teddy bear. With Jack, what you saw is what you got–no sham, no pretense, and no put on. He was “for real.”
I believe Jack loved God. He loved the Word of God. He loved the people of God. He loved his family and friends. And, I loved him.
Lindsey Garmon
Nelson beard, Jack and I always plan to go fishing somewhere on the Golf. Never did keep our appointment. Guess we will have to set a date on the other side. Sure the fish will bite better there.
JW was my friend. I called him Grampa. We worked on the NY Pipeline together in 2008 for several months. Our crew was together 90 plus hours a week, and then we spent our day off on Sunday together most of the time. We all looked forward to seeing each other every day, and looked out for each other, We was family. I loved this man like he really was my grampa, and enjoyed his stories very much. He taught me to make walking sticks. I cherish the one he made for me. He was a good man and loyal friend. JW talked about his wife and family every day and I knew he missed them very much. I am blessed to have worked with him, and know him. Until we meet again … RIP my dear friend, Ruth Huntington, Turner, Maine
Jack was my father-in-law and he was a good Opa to my kids. Hurts my heart thinking about them growing up without him. He always made them light up with joy at seeing him, no matter what disposition he was in. They loved their Opa and he charmed them simply by talking to them and holding them on his lap.
One of the many things I will miss about him is the way he would argue with Jason about which one of them was argumentative (they would argue that the other one was the argumentative one). They could easily go back and forth all day. We would all have a good laugh once they realized what they were doing.
I have known Jack since we lived in Corpus Christi in the 1980s. Jack moved to New Braunfels and I later went to work for the federal government EEOC in San Antonio in 2000. I attempted to reconnect with Jack via telephone information; however, the operator’s search found no Dunsmore in either San Antonio or the surrounding area. I decided Jack must have moved out of state so I gave up looking for him. Six months later a very strange thing happened, Jack appeared at my EEOC office wanting to file. Another strange coincidence; I just happen to be one of the sixteen investigators assigned to intake that week and just happened to be assigned to interview Jack by the receptionist. I could not believe that the name on the intake assignment assigned to me was in fact Jack Dunsmore. I asked the receptionist to point this person out to me in the reception room and she point to a man that had his back to me. I approached the man with his back to me and said Mr. Dunsmore and he turned around and pointed his finger at me and said “I know you”. I laughed and said yes you do know me and advised Jack that this could not have been a coincidence some how the forces in the Universe i.e., God made this happen. My mother always told me that thoughts are things so be careful what thoughts you put out there. That day Jack and I reconnected and he will be missed.
I never knew JW as Jack. He was always JW to me.
As JW said to me once, friendships are worthwhile to keep, We stayed intouch through the years after the millenium pipeline job. I will miss JW’s voice on the phone telling me it’s triple digits and brown in Texas while I’m on the other end of the phone on my back porch, because it is the only place where I get cell service, sitting in a cool breeze; the temperature is sixty degrees and the grass is green in Pennsylvania. However, In the winter, I would freeze on my back porch talking to JW on my cell phone and he would say, “Guess what? It’s eighty degrees here in Texas.”
I will greatly miss my dear friend.
sincerely, Lois Bennett
* revised wording
I never knew JW as Jack. He was always JW to me.
As JW once said, friendships are worthwhile, and so we stayed in-touch through the years after working together in 2008 in NY State on the millennium pipeline.
I will miss JW’s voice on the phone telling me that it’s triple digits and brown in Texas while I’m on the other end of the phone sitting in a cool breeze on my back porch, because it is the only place where I can get cell service — the temperature is sixty degrees and the grass is green in Pennsylvania. However, in the winter, I would freeze on my back porch talking to JW on my cell phone and he would say, “Guess what? It’s eighty degrees in Texas.”
I will greatly miss my dear friend.
Jack and I were cousins. Our mothers were sisters. I did not know Jack as an adult although we did speak by phone. I remember him mostly as a child six years younger than I was. He and his family lived in Brownsville while I lived with our Grandfather in Indiana. But I remember him as a bit of a prankster with a ready smile for everyone at all times. I remember him giving his gringo cousins quick lessons in Spanish if and when his family visited Indiana. I guess it was actually Harlingen rather than Brownsville. Anyway at least half the Spanish I know was taught by my cousin Jack.
Is it inappropriate for a spouse to write on her husband’s memorial page- one meant for expressions by those who were his friends and who were touched by his life? In my mind, I can hear him say, “Go for it!”. I want to tell the world that it doesn’t yet fully appreciate exactly how much has been lost with his passing. He was truly one of few remaining men- those of an age that hold fast to the belief that men are responsible for the care and protection of their women- old- fashioned in his notions and expressions of chivalry. Many women these days would “balk”, but oh how it could make one feel loved, secure, and cared for! How many men are there still who, secure in their own masculinity, think nothing of carrying the wife’s purse through a crowded mall, simply because he doesn’t want her bearing any more burdens than necessary? Or who would insist that as long as a man is around, a woman shouldn’t be pumping her own gas? Even in his latter years, as he seemed to grow more ill with each passing month, he would insist on taking care of me in any way that he could. And when I would tell him “no”, concerned for his physical health, he would argue and insist “you’re so stubborn!” And “you’re so strong willed!” How I long to hear those words again! It just wasn’t in his nature to let a woman “fend for herself”. The world and women of today are that much poorer, without men at their sides who still hold to those deeply ingrained attitudes of chivalry and care. He was so talented, and in so many areas, that I truly thought there was nothing he could not handle- that he had the knowledge, means, and strength of will necessary in order to overcome any and every obstacle placed in his path. How secure and safe he made me feel! He was so humble at heart, often bemoaning that he wasn’t an “educated” man- but how deeply untrue was that notion of his! He was a true “renesaince” man, with the knowledge, skills, and ability to craft a host of diverse projects and ideas. He was an “artist”- a true artist who never fully appreciateed the depths of that knowledge and those skills. And boy was he a “people person”- talking to and befriending any and everyone who crossed his path. I can’t number the times I’ve stopped at various stores, even pharmacies, giving them my name…..only to be met with “Oh! YOU’RE JW’s wife!”
I will miss him so! He was my “Dear”…and I was his “Darling”…pet names we had for each other (so much so that this is how we were listed in each other’s respective cell phones)-remaining still, despite our not infrequent “clash of wills”. As long as I have my memories, I have him…and when that thought isn’t enough to sustain me, I wrap myself wround with his big, warm robe, envisioning his arms around me.
Once again, if this is inappropriate- for me to write in an area reserved for family and friends- I beg your understanding. I want to express to the WORLD the magnitude of the loss of my “Dear”.
How does the song go? “You don’t know what ya got till its gone”- how true is that saying! How so very, very true!
What a beautiful, touching, and well written memorial. By reading these words, I was blessed and strengthened.
The man most people know as Jack Dunsmore my brothers and I know as Opa. That was one of the special things about this man; to some he was Jack, the dedicated and hardworking co-worker, to another he was “grampa”, the same dedicated worker. My father and Jason had the privilege of calling him “dad”. Some of his friends knew him as “JW,” the man who ALWAYS had something to say. He was the hardest and most skilled worker, most loving husband to Karen, and one of the most caring family members, even with one of the toughest exterior a person can have. He was an opinionated, devoted man, who was never afraid to speak his mind, stood up for what he believed in, and would go out of his way to support his family, constantly putting them before himself. I remember one of the few times my dad dropped me and my brothers off at Opa’s house to be watched when we were younger. While playing hide and seek with Opa’s step-sons, my little brother Justin got stuck in a trash can. It was quite an event having everyone watch Opa pull my little brother out. But that was one of Opa’s ways of teaching up. He would sometimes let us get into a little mischief and find out what to and not do. But no matter what, he was always there to get us out of trouble…and trashcans. And I can say to this day, Justin has never climbed into another trashcan. So lesson learned. Last year, I wrote Christmas cards early. I wrote Opa’s before I knew the extent of his condition of sickness. I noted on his Christmas card that we should get together for lunch as soon as he starts feeling better. When I went to visit him in the hospital we even started planning this lunch in greater detail. We never did get to have that lunch. So, if you decide to come back to my dad’s home for the reception, remember Jack in your doing so and have the lunch we never got to. I ask of everyone here, don’t wait to make plans with your loved ones when the timing is right because sometimes it never is unless you make it be. Don’t wait for the time to be right; make it right.
-Allison Dunsmore
Worked with Jack At Gary Job Corps for many years. I called him Jack attack
at work because every time he would get a project he would attack it until it
was finished. One great Man.
Jack was always my favorite cousin of the 4 boys since we were small
children. Jack kept in touch through all these years and we talked
on a regular basis across the miles. His visits to California always
left me with some kind of improvement around our house–a fence,
tile in a bathroom, a new cabinet and other little projects. He liked
to keep busy, go places, do things, meet people and never seemed
to meet a stranger. He was a master craftsman and indeed knew
many crafts. I could always get good advise from “Mr. Fixit”.