Heavens,  Jack,  I've forgotten how to post here.  

I just miss you.  I tried doing those corny Christmas cookies,  you always ate them before I could get them frosted.  

You were there.  Getting in my way,  calling me Malmud,  helping me misshape cookies... it was almost fun.  But I'm a sap.  Every time I turned around,  you were there.  And I was blubbering.  So...mission failed.   But as for bringing you to mind... yes  I admit it worked.  So does wrapping presents for your siblings and Dad.  Singing Christmas carols,  sharing Communion.  You're everywhere.  Forget you this Christmas?  Not hardly.  I sure do love you, Jack.  ❤️ 

So many lives have been saturated with your absence. 😔

I have so many things to ask you and tell you... but they'll remain unanswered and untold, as you're the only one that'd give the right answer or comeback to top all others. You are so missed, big brother. 💔

I am Jack’s father but we were also best friends. Sure, he was not perfect but his personality was infectious. Whenever he called I would drop everything and go with him. That last call I received at the beginning of his last week, he asked me to swing by Bandera and pick him up and go to Florida for a little rest and relaxation. I had to tell him it was not a good idea to leave when he was going through so many medical procedures. I do not recall ever not doing what he wanted. Just did not feel right.

Most of our trips together were coordinated to move his RV from one place to another… Kansas City, Dallas, Fort Worth, Naples FL, Tampa… destinations for school or business. A lot of traveling to say the least but never a dull moment. He gained more friends wherever he landed. Many of those friends became business partners. His network was always increasing.

We had so many good times, ate at the best restaurants, fished at some of the best places… striper fishing on Lake Texoma when he was younger, ocean fishing off of Key West FL. He loved to fish but I could never get him to eat what he caught which was really strange. I would do all the preparation but he just would not eat what was prepared. He would eat fish in any restaurant but not what he caught himself. A phobia, maybe.

Jack was planning for the future and was working on a partnership with Larry Shindler in Kansas City MO, and Danny Visconti in Denton TX to build a business selling only trucks. I know for a fact it would have been successful because Jack had a knack for selling anything, especially used vehicles. He had just completed his preliminary ground work and was ready to get started. He had just made a deal with his sister Ivy to go on her Verizon Wireless cell phone plan and had just purchased a new top of the line cell phone. In his mind everything was looking up and forward.

When he moved to Bandera to be near his mother and medical facilities in San Antonio, he began going to church with her and began to return to his roots and back to Christ. He seemed to be happy in that Cowboy Church in Bandera and even went to church when his mother could not. I pushed him to find a church wherever he landed and to become involved. He finally heeded my advice and began sharing Christ with others. He had long conversations with several of his past friends. Do you think he saw his mortality and knew that he was given this chance to bring his life back into focus? I certainly do and it is a consolation to me that one day when I come face to face with my own mortality, that Jack will be in heaven to greet me along with many of other Christians I have come to know throughout my life.

I will always miss him and it certainly won't be the same going forward. He called every morning with "Eh" and I responded "Eh?" He would ask if I had drank my share of water for the day and if I had eaten anything.  Usually I would say no and then he would say that he was on his way to pick me up to get something to eat. He liked the best restaurants, never into any fast food places other than Chick-fil-a. Eating out was an art to him and he always wanted to please people that he was with. Boy, am I ever going to miss you. Rest in peace, my friend.

I don’t know anyone who has as many “Best Friends” as Jack Campbell. 

Jack and I spent many hours driving somewhere, (often a restaurant or destination involving a car or truck for sale, or a country music honky tonk), and along the way something would remind Jack of a person he knew.  He would pick up the phone and call them. Invariably the conversation seemed to pick up where a previous conversation left off.   He seldom had to say,  “This is Jack”,  and they often had an update regarding something that had been recently discussed. Jack was entwined with so many peoples lives.  

I don’t know anyone else who has literally 100 or more conversation strings going on at the same time. It was baffling.

I terribly miss riding around with Jack. He showed me more restaurants with the “best” hamburger, barbecue, fried chicken, sushi, pizza, Ribeye Steak, Shrimp, Grouper, buffets, and Country Music…except for “another” place, that he wanted to go to next time.   Jack was my Tour Guide  

Life was always an adventure, and the pursuit of the best of something, was always more enjoyable than finding what we had “hoped” was the best. For Jack, “The Game” was afoot every day.  

Jack’s orchestra of close friends would add to the list of places recommended for him to go for a long list of reasons, since they knew of his vast array of interests. He loved it when a new destination panned out and would clearly detail his displeasure if a place  he once liked no longer lived up to his expectations.   But even when they didn’t, Jack could always point out a dozen places with stories to be told along the way. 

I miss Jack. He was the person I’d call up with no particular reason and we’d talk for 20 minutes. He was the person I’d call to ask “Have you eaten”?  He was my buddy to “Hit the Stockyards”, and more. 

I’m hoping that Jack is up there making his list, and when it is my time to arrive, he seeks me out and says, “Man, I have found some great places to show you”.  

Knowing Jack, it will be a very long list. 

The church youth were going on a field trip at Southwest Christian Church outside Atlanta back in 1978, so Jack’s Dad and I took him with us to shop. We went to Sears Roebuck where there was a crowd at the back of the store. I heard a snippet over the PA system about Star Wars, a big favorite of Jack’s, so we walked in that direction.

We rounded an aisle to see the 6 ft 8 inch hulk of none other than Darth Vadar! Jack wanted so desperately to meet him, so we waited in line. When we got to the front, they were nearly out of time. This giant black menacing figure, breathing through that respirator like you all know he does, was only signing autographs, not meeting with people. I guess he hadn’t been hired to speak. Malcolm pushed him toward the actor and the man growled and gazed down at Jack.

He suddenly motioned to him, picked him up by the chest of his t-shirt, and with Jack flailing like a fish out of water, he took his black pen and signed Jack’s T-shirt! That was a red-letter day for him that I don’t imagine he ever forgot.