# data[].attributes.body
Click the pink cross in the bottom right corner and write as little or as much as you please :)

# data[].attributes.body
I remember as a little kid my dad and I would wake up early on Saturday mornings (while my mom was still sleeping) and either feed the birds at Stow Lake in Golden Gate Park or visit the SF zoo and watch the monkies.
-Hannah

# data[].attributes.body
I have so many memories of watching David Letterman with my dad. I'm pretty sure he watched every episode that ever aired. My favorite episode of Letterman was the christmas one every year featuring Darlene Love.

My dad and I bonded over many TV shows, a few that come to mind are Veep, The Wire, Curb, West World, but most importantly, we watched so much Seinfeld together. I will always think of him when wathcing Seinfeld.
-Hannah

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Darlene Love's spectacular final Christmas performance for The Late Show with David Letterman sad fa

# data[].attributes.body
John and I met in Columbia, c. 1984, where, while sharing lots of good food and wine, he introduced me to pesto sauce. After telling me the basic recipe, I was like, "You mean that's it? A bunch of herb leaves and some garlic — it's gonna have much flavor?" John was like, "Oh yeah, uh-uh, uh-huh, good stuff. Lotsa people like it, Paul."

Of course we pretty much live on pesto and home-grown tomatoes in summer now. I chop it by hand and never fail to think of John.

When Covid caused the first closures in California, in Spring 2020, John texted me from the grocery store line. "Paul," he wrote, "can you believe this? They're out of Reggiano."

Paul Roberts
Friendsville, Md.

# data[].attributes.body
Don’t have any pictures to share of us there but we had a lot of good times in Ernie’s.
When I would visit to SF, I always enjoyed hanging out and playing golf with John. Needless to say, he was much better than me.
My wife Kathy and I visited SF one time and Jim and John got their heads together to go to a beach somewhere between them. As it turned out, we (none of us) were quite prepared for BAKER BEACH!  Ouch, my virgin eyes.
Miss John a lot. Take care Nancy and Hannah.
Gary Petty

# data[].attributes.body
John and I played music when our daughters, friends since age 2, would get together. We would try to be patient and sociable and carry on polite conversations with our spouses, but we would always steal away eventually to break out the guitars. And it was always so fun!He insisted he was a hack and didn’t know anything, but that was so not true. He had a command of tons of songs, and a good ear that could find his way through changes he’d never played before. He would even indulge me a play through of my more outside jazzy stuff.
But no matter where the song would start, he would always end up sounding like Jerry. And that’s a high complement. That syncopated 8th note shuffle that ran up and down the scale, hitting the right notes at the right time.
That was bliss. Anything he played on sounded better.
Miss you man.
Paul

# data[].attributes.headline
The art of savoring every-day pleasures.

# data[].attributes.subject
The art of savoring every-day pleasures.

# data[].attributes.body
We’ve known John and Nancy since the girls were 2. I remember meeting them at another friend’s house at a kid birthday party and knowing I wanted to be friends with them. They were smart, down-to-earth, and just fun to be around. John was wonderful with Hannah – such a great dad. The too-little amount of traveling we did together was a real vacation -- we could all truly relax together, and John had an easy presence. He seemed to savor so much -- cooking, music, being home and tending to it, supporting Hannah and sharing their love of music, traveling with Nancy and, of course, Ginger. We are so sad to lose John way, way too soon. We will miss you, John.
Jan

# data[].attributes.body
We have many happy memories of John.

Like when one rainy night a couple of years ago, Danny ran into John at a Robbie Robertson book reading at Dominican University.  He was blown away by John's enthusiastic and encylopedic knowledge of The Band and of rock music in general.

Or that time when Hannah and her band was singing on stage at the Filmore; John, with Nancy by his side, enthusiastically bouncing to the beat as Hannah belted out "Fabiaaannn...."

But most of all, we remember the little moments we shared with John as we watched our kids grow up, from toddlers to the strong women they are today.  These moments were not always the special occasions like Hannah's concerts or even holiday get-togethers. But they will always be special to us.

Love, Danny and Julie

# data[].attributes.body
If you were lucky to eat one of John's meals, you were lucky enough.  I am not sure where John learned to cook but John was a master in the kitchen.  Perhaps his mother had an influence since John excelled in preparing Italian dishes. I have such fond memories of John's spaghetti carbonara, onion pasta, Italian sausage meat sauce, and of course pesto.  One time I listened in on a discussion between John and his mother, Joan, about who made the better pesto.  Mama Joan said she did but John argued otherwise.  Interestingly, they both used the same pesto recipe but added their own personal touches.  At Thanksgiving, John would bring his famous mashed potatoes to our house.  Let me just say John was known for his mashed potatoes!  They were so smooth with a layer of cream floating on top.  Low calorie, low fat - not - but oh so delicious.
I will miss John's cooking but more importantly I will miss John the person.  He was my friend for over 40 years and I will treasure the travel, the meals, the holidays, and the good times we shared.
With love and gratitude for his friendship,
Joanne Taylor

# data[].attributes.headline
I met John when Nancy and I started medical school in 1982.  I remember we called them the "Valente twins" because they had the same last name. John was always so accepting of us, smiled, happy to have us around. We met for beer, played pool, and grew  a huge vegetable garden to feed us all in my back yard. His mother's pesto recipe is still the only one I use every fall.  I always loved that he would not hang up first on the phone or say good-bye. He just waited until I was done talking and then I had to say good bye. I feel fortunate  to have called John my friend all these years. Your memory is sweet.

# data[].attributes.subject
I met John when Nancy and I started medical school in 1982.  I remember we called them the "Valente twins" because they had the same last name. John was always so accepting of us, smiled, happy to have us around. We met for beer, played pool, and grew  a huge vegetable garden to feed us all in my back yard. His mother's pesto recipe is still the only one I use every fall.  I always loved that he would not hang up first on the phone or say good-bye. He just waited until I was done talking and then I had to say good bye. I feel fortunate  to have called John my friend all these years. Your memory is sweet.

# data[].attributes.body
Nancy Mendelsohn
St. Paul, Minnesota

# data[].attributes.body
Time: Spring 1977
Place: Steinhaus(AKA Swinehouse) Columbia, MO
Event: $.25/beer night-a Tuesday
Girl walks into bar, walks up to 3 unsuspecting gentlemen(John,Jim and Dick?-got more ****than he got body) and asks “are youz guys gonna buy me a beer?”.  Several hours and MANY quarters later a friendship had been germinated. Grateful Dead and cheap beer may have started the friendship, but numerous mind altering parties, live concerts and long conversations nourished it.
Gladstone’s, Ford’s Theater, Hellband, Cole Tuckey, The Blue Note, Bob Dylan, The Band-The Last Waltz, The Community Co-Op,  Ernies, Kansas City shows, St.Louis shows starting with the May 15, 1977,  Shoreline 1995-the only time I met Hannah and my last shows with Jerry, Chicago 2015......just to mention a few.

I have continued to check in with John intermittently over the years.  Thoughts of him usually enter my psyche  when I am on some cosmic outdoor vision quest OR  drinking red wine, spinning LPs on my turntable with the volume turned up and dancing.  I hope they continue.  Just have to figure out how to get a message through.

The last time I actually convened with John in person was over unadulterated coffee in his Sunset neighborhood 2018. He shined talking about Hannah and her music adventures, playing music with Jim weekly, skiing in the nearby mountains, hanging with his dog and loving the life he and Nancy have created in the Bay Area.

And that is how I will always see John-smiling and shining with music in his soul and a song in his heart.

With sadness in sand coulee, montana......sally Lydon

# data[].attributes.body
45 years is hard to condense into a few words, but I will try.  John and I initially bonded over a deep love of music which persisted throughout our lives, whether seeing Jerry and his band at the Warfield or the entire band at the Shoreline. I have lost count over the years of all the live shows we shared with our friends.  But the music we made/wrote/  (rarely performed) was the real cement to our relationship.
John and Nancy were a great "friends" couple.  We traveled the world and shared good meals whether made by John or world class SF chefs.  John and Nancy were kind enough to share their beautiful daughter, Hannah, who is John's greatest gift to this world.
John was a good friend who left this earth too early.  He will be missed by all who knew him and it will be a loss to those who had not yet met him.
His memory will live on in those of us who knew him well.
Peace brother, jim

# data[].attributes.body
Like all who knew him I will miss John for many reasons; shared experiences / history; music. One of these is certainly his sense of humor, his dry wit. I have many pleasant memories of chuckling with John over absurdities of life and things that just struck us as funny. I recall very pleasantly on a Grateful Dead trip to Alpine Valley in my 84 Volvo, with Nancy kindly driving due to my long legs cramping, a new Steve Winwood song, Higher Love, came on the radio. We were convinced he was singing “give me an iron lung “ for the chorus. Forever after when we heard that song ...‘give me an....’. BTW for those keeping score at home on that trip may have been the inaugural stop at the ‘ Mars Cheese Hotel’.
I will miss John a great deal but very pleasant memories like these will live on the rest of my life.
Love to Nancy and Hannah
Gregg

# data[].attributes.body
I am listening to Cornell concert 5/8/1977 as I write, thinking about John.....but.....it seems his pesto recipe is impressive.  I would like to expand my channeling of John in order to keep as many good vibes in this earthly world as possible.( yes I am a dead head-no pun intended). And I want to make clear that I do not want to hinder any further journeys a soul has to take....for I am clueless and continue to loathe the decisiveness of death and the pain it renders.
I cook a lot and I believe his recipe could add to keeping his positive spirit alive.  I would like to think my pesto adventure is swell but if someone would kindly share John’s,
it may well confirm my beliefs or expand upon them.
So my request is that someone please share his and/or his mother’s recipe so that one can keep calm, pesto on and think of John......thank you in anticipation......sally

# data[].attributes.body
I met John through the beautiful friendship our daughters share. We witnessed our daughters journey through childhood together: Soccer practices, school events, dinner parties at each other’s homes and probably the most memorable of all - being a She-rents.
The joy and pride was obvious every time John talked about the She’s. I’m forever grateful for his musical guidance and tutelage he provided for our girls.
I had been thinking a lot of John when I first heard he was admitted to hospital. A few weeks before his passing, I dreamt of him as well. We bumped into each other in the Sunset and were catching up on things - as we typically did years ago. He was mailing a parcel at the post office. For a brief moment he had a scared look on his face, but then it disappeared and turned into a smile. Ginger wasn’t with him him which I thought was odd. At the end of the conversation I asked if he was headed my way, and he said no - he was going the other way. And then he walked off.
Thank you John for your friendship, memories and kindness over the years. May your gentle soul be at peace. Rest well my friend.
Joe

# data[].attributes.body
Most of my John V memories come from 1973-74 before and during our senior year at Moberly High School.  Although brief, I guess that time was so vivid because the summer of ‘73 is when I fell in love with the man I ended up marrying. My husband, Joe Carter, was my first and only “true love” and also a very good friend of John’s. (They formed a lasting bond on the golf team, and both loved the game.) John is entertwined in so many of my memories of that magical time. He made me laugh ... a lot ... and we shared a love of music. (I ended up being in a band during my early college years, which John would have liked.)
Anyway, my most lasting memory is John’s laugh. It’s hard to explain unless you have heard it too! I don’t even remember the beginning of his laugh, but at the end, there was a long, high, thin, drawn out and dwindling sound, not a wheeze exactly but... all I know it when I heard that part it made me start laughing again. It was hard to stop. Maybe that laugh was not his everyday normal laugh...maybe it was when he couldn’t stop laughing. Maybe it was his 18-year-old laugh that he outgrew later. It’s just something I’ll never forget about him... that ... and his glorious longish hair.
I do know that he stayed with Joe and the Carter family when his parents moved to Milan, Italy.  However, after high school, he attended Mizzou in Columbia, and I stayed in Moberly for my first two years to save money and attend Moberly Junior College. Joe headed off to the US Merchant Marine Academy in Long Island, NY. By the time I went to Mizzou for my last two years after JuCo, I’d already lost track of John, especially since Joe was the thread that had tied us together. After USMMA, my husband Joe was as a navigator on merchant ships and sailed to locations around the world for years, gone for six months at a time.  We had married after we both finished college in 1978 and had our first baby in 1980 so his job and raising kids and I taught full time for 33 years...all kept us so busy that I guess that’s how we lost close touch with John. We knew he was in California, but we didn’t have an address for a while.  Finally, we got it, and for a few years we exchanged letters. I remember getting a Christmas card with a photo of baby Hannah, and later a photo of toddler Hannah eating spaghetti in her high chair...just smiling and happily drenched in sauce! When John told us about the She’s, we’ve followed them on YouTube ever since.
My husband will have a whole different set of memories, and I’ll try to get him to write some here. However, John will forever be a part of some of the best memories of my life, and although we had not seen each other for so very long, the news of his need for surgery was a shock.  Then when I heard that he’d finally lost that battle, I actually felt nausea and a such keen sense of shock again and such loss. All those years of distance, and yet I felt sick and so incredibly sad. Joe and I spent hours looking up old photos and playing  music he’d liked and sharing memories. That shows what an impact he had on the people around him. My heart goes out to his amazing wife and incredible daughter, and all his friends who were lucky enough to be close to him in recent years. Prayers for all who loved him...

# data[].attributes.body
John and I shared the experience of raising daughters in The City. Since kindergarten our daughters have been best friends. John and I have escorted our girls to play dates, birthday parties, school field-trips, sports games, band performances, etc. For three consecutive years while the girls were in middle school, we teamed up to host a week-long girls trip to Lake Berryessa, otherwise known as Camp B.

We stayed at our family mobile home in Steele Park which had a full length porch with a view of the lake. John and I coordinated to supervise 4-7 city girls as they spent time swimming, boating, hiking, and being unplugged. John and I traded off, cooking and cleaning, he was a great partner since he was always mellow and relaxed. Ginger was also there to join in the fun.  I can still picture John sitting on the porch with a cup of coffee, reading a book, while eggs, bacon, and hash browns were cooking in the kitchen for breakfast as the sun warmed the morning.

Missing you.
-Rick Riley

# data[].attributes.body
As most residents learn, Halloween can be a hit-or-miss experience in San Francisco.  Since there aren't a lot of families, many neighborhoods don't celebrate the holiday, while in a few neighborhoods it's over-the-top.  It's tough to find the quintessential suburban Halloween experience, but it does exist by the Valente's house in the Sunset district, and John and Nancy always shared the opportunity to participate with other families.
We would assemble in costume at the Valente household on 25th Avenue (parents, girls, and siblings) for some pre-event munchies and then march to 27-29th Avenues where most of the house were decorated and the owners were passing out candy.   October in SF can have surprisingly pleasant weather.  Usually, it was just the right amount of walking, the right amount of crowds, and the right amout of candy.
At the end of the night we would return to the Valente's house for adult libations and to watch the kids spread their loot out on the floor and trade candies with each other.  Those evenings were the perfect way to enjoy Halloween in SF and I was sad when our girls got too old to go trick-or-treating.
Thanks John and Nancy.
-Rick Riley