There are a lot of things people might be surprised to learn about Jack Dillard. For one, he was an avid scuba diver. I never talked with him about it after he became unable to walk with ease, but I suspect that one of his great regrets later on was that he could no longer dive.
In fact, those who primarily knew Jack as a man in a business suit might be surprised to know how adventurous Jack was. I was vacationing with him once in Hawaii when we both decided to try parasailing. I spent a few minutes bumping along about 30 feet above the water scared to death; I looked up, and 500 feet above me was this tiny speck that was Jack. When he came down, he said he had had a wonderful time, just leisurely drifting along.
Jack’s musical tastes were also seemingly out of character. He loved the Rolling Stones and probably attended dozens of Stones concerts in his life.
Jack was my first cousin but being only six months younger, he was more like my brother. So what is not surprising is how much every day I, like many others, miss talking to and being with him.
