I’m heartbroken at the loss of John, and I keep coming back to our years at Turtle Creek Court during our senior year at Notre Dame. We were basically held together by egg sandwiches, late-night problem-solving, and that endless stream of ideas he carried around. I shared one of those stories at his and Maria’s wedding, but the truth is every year with John created a dozen more.
He had the mind of an engineer, always sketching inventions to improve the world, even as he devoted himself fully to medicine. Back at Turtle Creek, while we were running live concerts out of our apartment known as the “Orange Couch Club,” John was already imagining ways to make life better for others. He treated creativity like a responsibility, something meant to lift people up. And after we graduated, he did just that: creating a photography program for underserved students in Chicago and volunteering in a Ugandan hospital while dreaming up solar-light solutions for the village where he worked.
One of my favorite memories will always be the replica of the Grotto he built at his home in Grosse Pointe. It was pure John: thoughtful, symbolic, and crafted with care. That’s who he was, everywhere he went.
Our friendship had this wonderfully odd rhythm. Sometimes a whole year would pass with only one conversation, yet every time we reconnected it was like flipping a switch. Same energy. Same spark. Same John. I’m grateful I saw him and his family this fall, and that our conversation was exactly as it had always been.
John gave so much of himself to the world through his positivity, his creativity, and his belief that things could always be improved. I’m grateful for every moment we had, and I’ll carry his ideas, his laughter, and his light with me.
May his memory be a blessing and may all who loved him find comfort in the remarkable life he lived.