John Moon

It’s probably good that we never can see what is coming down the road. Our lives are truly like driving while blind. So we learn to stay braced for life’s chuckholes. But dang, this was a tough loss.

John Moon passed this weekend. Yes, it was a surprise.

Of course, John always loved shocking us… and he was a bit competitive. I’m sure he loved beating us to GLORY. And some of us were sure to beat him, if you went by appearances. And John was always so full of life.

John and I shared some principal, pinnacle moments together. Maybe he was that way with everybody he knew. But for two of my most exciting times, two of the most proud moments in my life, he was right there. When I needed the best, most able man to design and construct the base for my bronze sculpture grouping in Bryan, God found John Moon for me. John, as I learned, was a creative genius. He was an artist and an architect, as well as well as a building contractor, and could do anything with his hands. And he could probably have made the sculpture if he had just a little direction. Over the years I have seen his carvings and incredible fishing lures, and heard his music, and sampled his wonderful creative mind. He was crazy like me… loved to talk about Texas history, fishing, outdoor adventure, the things that constituted the essence of Brazos Valley lore and legend. I could never have a short conversation with him. He was always so glad to find another nut like him, who really loved those things. Maybe we shot the shit too much, just talked about fish and did not ever go FISHing.


But we finally did get the jam session going… we had always talked about it. He had always wanted to build “the Texas Roadhouse” out at the Keelan Gin, where he could have sponsored such things. He was beside himself when we had our first one… and he even coaxed local music veterans Randy Pavlock and Sam Mursky to come give us their blessing. He was still so excited about it the second time he came, I had to tell him to SHUT UP! I guess I’ll hesitate before ever telling somebody that again.

But John called me later, and let me off the hook, he understood how he was. He had missed some of the sessions, but was still pumped about them. Nobody will ever forget that wonderful homemade wash-tub bass he brought, and how good it sounded. He was looking forward to many Friday nights playing with his friends.

One of John's great loves was his fishing camp on Yarboro Lake. It was the center of his universe. But then so was his home, his guitar, and all his other iconic, essential, inspiring things in his life. Almost everything had a soulful, poetic story attached to it. And all that is rare for an Aggie.

I’ll never forget him explaining how he had been spending time with his family… preparing great meals outside, feasting with the people he loved. He really loved his family. That was what LIFE was about. He loved telling about the day he met Jane, his wife. She was riding around the neighborhood, barefoot and bareback, and blond. But her horse had been tethered to the water line and pulled it out of the ground! That’s Navasota! He was so excited driving with her in the front seat, he was nearly driving while blind, and nearly got stuck in the mud. He was amusingly self-deprecating, but was proud to say she was the love of his life… he had been faithful for all these thirty some odd years. No regrets. We both agreed we had been lucky b------s. We both understood we had married way above ourselves. When he called me last week, we both still had so much to do and say. The bottom line was God had been good to us. And there was still so much to look forward to.

Anyway John, thank you. For your passion, and your love for life and everything good about it, and giving so much… annoying… enthusiasm. It will be missed. And now, after you have laid prostrate in front of your beautiful, magnificent Maker, for a few Million years, you will have perfect vision… and can talk as loud as you want… for Eternity.