R I P -- Peaches / Spoon

Subject: R I P -- Peaches / Spoon Sat Aug 06, 2022 12:58 pm

John Holt

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John Kent Holt, born on September 21, 1943, passed away at his home on August 4th, 2022, after a long battle with cancer. He died peacefully and surrounded by his loved ones.

John was born at Scott Air Force Base and spent his childhood in Springfield, Marion, and Centralia. He attended Wabash College and Southern Illinois University, served in Vietnam in 1965 - 1966, and settled in Carbondale for more than 40 years.

Community service was a big priority for John. He was an active volunteer at Synergy, a long-time member and elder of the First Presbyterian Church of Carbondale, a member of the Rotary Club for many years, and a committed member of several area support groups. He deeply valued and treasured all of these communities.

His other big passion was music. He loved hanging out at Golden Frets and spending time with his friends at the Whiteside Bluegrass Festival. He was deeply knowledgeable across blues, bluegrass, and classical genres.

John is survived by his wife Pam Holt, his children Philip Holt, Cassy Gregge, Dion Holt-Phoenix, Vanessa Holt-Phoenix, Colleen Price, 12 grandchildren, and 3 great-grandchildren.

Cremation rites have been accorded. The family will host a memorial service at a later date. Inurnment will take place in Hillcrest Cemetery in Centralia, IL.

In lieu of customary remembrances, memorials in John’s honor may be made to Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (givenow.lls.org).

Arrangements have been entrusted to Crain Pleasant Grove-Murdale Funeral Home.

To view the obituary and/or to leave an online condolence for the family, please visit www.crainsonline.com.

Fluctuat nec mergitur.

https://www.facebook.com/john.holt.519

Subject: Re: R I P -- Peaches / Spoon Sat Aug 06, 2022 1:03 pm

Me and him used to get into it on the old Bad Yahoo board. Man those were the days.

RIP ya crotchety old cuss.

Subject: Re: R I P -- Peaches / Spoon Sat Aug 06, 2022 1:50 pm

https://bastardfactory.net/threads/its-with-a-heavy-heart-that-i-share-this-sad-announcement.10696/

Regular Member Posts : 187 Join date : 2020-06-09

oliver clotheshoffe wrote:: Me and him used to get into it on the old Bad Yahoo board. Man those were the days.

RIP ya crotchety old cuss.

Isn't he the one who was a deacon at some church, and FRW and others were posting about it?

Subject: Re: R I P -- Peaches / Spoon Wed Aug 31, 2022 10:28 pm

unemployedfarmer wrote:: Isn't he the one who was a deacon at some church, and FRW and others were posting about it?

Yeah that's him. Someone said Spoon was a preacher, I did this chop back in 2006 -

R I P -- Peaches / Spoon ZLV45Ee

Regular Member Posts : 187 Join date : 2020-06-09

oliver clotheshoffe wrote:

unemployedfarmer wrote:: Isn't he the one who was a deacon at some church, and FRW and others were posting about it?

Yeah that's him. Someone said Spoon was a preacher, I did this chop back in 2006 -

R I P -- Peaches / Spoon ZLV45Ee

Subject: Re: R I P -- Peaches / Spoon Sun Sep 04, 2022 7:17 pm

Philip, John's oldest son wrote:: This Philip, John's oldest son. I'm sharing the eulogy I gave for him at yesterday's memorial service.

I have the profound honor of eulogizing my father, John. The responsibility of properly honoring him weighs heavily on me. John’s death also marks the passing of the family patriarch, and as the eldest son of the eldest son of the eldest son of the eldest son to bear the middle name Kent, I feel a duty to adequately honor the family lineage.

For John, it meant something to be a Holt. He thought seriously about what his family history represented for him, both in terms of his identity and his internal compass. I also have the sense that he was never limited or constrained by his heritage. Rather, it was only the “current draft”, and the unfolding life in front of him would allow him to fully construct his sense of self and how he would honor being a Holt.

His definition of family drew heavily from all of his stock including the Harmons, the Apples, the Pattersons, the Dills, the Holloways. All of them were deeply rooted to this place - all within a few hundred miles of this very spot. With the exception of his tour in Vietnam, and short stints in Chicago and Seattle, John lived his entire life within 60 miles of this place. John’s roots are strong, both within his family tree and in Southern Illinois.

I never felt like I had plumbed the full depth of John. His well ran deep. His favorite poet, Walt Whitman, helps: “I am large, I contain multitudes.”

John granted each of us access, large and small, to his soul, to his inner-self. Perhaps he’s only fully known by this community collectively. I like that idea - that it takes our community to fully know us. Permit me, then, to share what I know of him.

John was the oldest of four boys. Chuck and Rick preceded John in death, but Jim is here with us today. They all loved each other and remained deeply connected and bonded all their lives. As the oldest grandchild to Tex and Queenie, I secretly wished I was the fifth brother. I was drawn to the mysterious and secret bond that only they seemed to possess; brothers in arms, he would say they were, in the never ending effort to educate the Old Man and work around the Old Lady’s passion for conventionality. The gravity well of the Holt family was strong and pulled many into its orbit.

But John never defined his family in conventional terms. His definition was broad, expansive, and whole-hearted. Biological, adopted, or by marriage mattered not; he loved us each - Colleen, Vanessa, Dion, Cassy, and me - uniquely and deeply. I had the sense that his love for each of us only deepened as he grew older; and as we had kids and grandkids of our own, he absolutely beamed with joy and pride. He radiated love and acceptance to all of us. I never felt judged, only admired. I only ever saw a sparkle in his eye when any of us were present or in conversation.

John’s capacity to find romantic love was equally deep, and he shared his life with 3 incredible women - each of them his equal in strength and wisdom. And each of them left an indelible mark on his life (and mine, for that matter). Pam entered John’s life as I was becoming an adult, so I was able to witness their relationship from a position of developing maturity and to see Pam more as my dad’s wife than as my stepmother. And what an amazing wife she is: loving, caring, loyal. She made John a better man.

John was keenly intelligent, widely read, and intensely observant and thoughtful; he had a story, a joke, or sage counsel for almost any situation. He relished the opportunity for conversation and exchange. He was erudite for sure, but also experienced in the ways of the world. He valued the lessons learned in a pool hall as much as he did in a lecture hall. Maybe more. He never defined himself by his profession nor measured his success by career metrics. He was fascinated by Craft (with a capital C) and the unique culture and community behind any Trade - the proprietary and arcane knowledge known only to tradespeople, the interactions between them and their customers, and the applied practicality of their work. He was variously a bartender, a mechanic, a yardman at a lumber yard, a musical instrument repairman, a realtor, an industrial equipment salesman, a school bus driver, an accountant. He told me, “Pick your battles or your projects. Focus on the current one. Do it well and thoroughly, if not wisely.”

Doing something well, thoroughly, and wisely was the performance measure he most esteemed. Most importantly, he lived by the ideal of keeping his own counsel and letting others keep theirs. I suspect this ethos is derived directly from the deeply set pragmatism of his Illinois heritage, and confirmed by the cultural awakening of the 60s and the trauma of his Vietnam experience. He lived his life on his terms - contemplative and deliberate, in harmony and peace.

He valued the people in his life above all else; his family, his friends, and his community. Here again, John was broad, expansive, and whole-hearted. He was committed to assembling and nurturing a found family that included all of us. With John, time seemed to be more abundant and to move more slowly, as if he had command over the arms of the clock. He made room for all of us.

John was a philosopher and a spiritual scholar. He studied scripture, philosophy, literature, history, and poetry in active pursuit of meaning and understanding in his life. He loved his time with the bible study group here at the church; and he thrived around artists, musicians, and poets, who frequently sought his editorial review. He found grace through his recovery, and connection and acceptance from his found family.

He dedicated himself to service. He enjoyed decades of fellowship, love, and support from this congregation, his 12 step communities, his musical communities, and his many friends. In many respects, this was his life’s work: finding communion with the people he loved; seeking meaning and understanding; and living day to day in accordance with his values and beliefs.

John lost his nose to cancer about 20 years ago. His face transformed, his spirit traumatized, he wore a prosthetic for years. It was only just a few weeks ago that I spent time with him without his nose and realized the prosthetic wasn’t for him, it was for everyone else. It was a mask whose purpose was to help all of us feel comfortable with what had become of his face, but it wasn’t the real John. It was a gift to be granted access to his most vulnerable self, to be part of the inner circle who saw him and knew him as he really was, traumas and all. There is so much purity and innocence in being that vulnerable with someone that it feels like you are in direct connection with their soul. I don't know how else to describe it.

“I am large, I contain multitudes.”

John was sentimental and deeply empathetic, easily moved to tears by the sublime, especially music. One of his cherished expressions is a saying in Latin: “Fluctuat Nec Mergitur,” which roughly means, “he is rocked by waves but does not sink.” For John, this was a conscious act of will to be unsinkable, to be resilient, to thrive in spite of his past, his traumas, his injuries. This is the lesson I’m holding on to today - the conscious choice to be unsinkable. Fluctuat Nec Mergitur.

Peace be upon your house.

Regular Member Posts : 187 Join date : 2020-06-09

The Wise And Powerful wrote:

Philip, John's oldest son wrote:: This Philip, John's oldest son. I'm sharing the eulogy I gave for him at yesterday's memorial service.

SNIP

Wow. I read about half of it. I remember some of the trolls saying something about that guy's nose. I didn't know it was true.

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