Uncle John, Johnny Angel, John John,
In my pre-adolescent youth, you walked into my life with a full beard and dark permed hair. I wasn’t sure what to make of you at first. It wasn’t long before I couldn’t wait for you to come over for dinner or come over on a nice spring day so we could play catch.
You brought extra laughter to our dinner table and became like a brother to my Dad. The love you had of baseball was passed along to me and I had dreams of becoming the first female pitcher for professional baseball because of you. I’m sure you knew this dream was just that, but you showed great patience and offered instruction to me while I threw wild pitches towards your glove.
Some of my best memories involve our rides in your red Fiero to the city to watch the Rochester Red Wing games. We’d blast Pink Floyd or the 1812 Overture as we rode into the city. You taught me how to do the stats on the old playbooks as we sat behind home plate with all the players’ wives. I felt so special and honored to be with you at the games and the banquette dinners they held.
I will never forget our times at the baseball field, letting me collect the foul balls off the roof at the Red Wings stadium. Listening to music that Mom probably didn’t approve of or watching movies such as The Rose that Mom wouldn’t have approved of.
I look back now and wish I had told you I love you or reached out to you more once I moved away. Please know you were such an important part of my life and I thank you for playing baseball with me, tolerating my request to drive the Fiero around the neighborhood so I could look cool and for just being you.
May you find peace now and know many loved you and you influenced many.
Love Always,
Kel-Can