Jim grew up in Albuqueque, New Mexico. He married Anna Belle and they had two children, Jimmy and Kathy. Jim owned and operated a construction business with his father for a number of years. Jim and Anna later divorced, his father wanted to retire and Jim decided on a change and moved to El Paso, Texas, for a few years. In early 1972, he moved to Phoenix, Arizona.
Jim was the kind of man who could make people feel good about themselves. I've seen him meet people who were down and, sometimes, out but before Jim left them, they'd found a bright side and were most likely smiling at one of his jokes. He never forgot a joke once he heard it; he could tell them for every occasion. He was a comfortable friend; someone to relax with and know that there were no demands or conditions. Years might pass, but as sure as the sun rises, Jim would remember, not even hesitating over an acquaintance's name. He was creative and enjoyed woodworking and tooling leather and drawing. He had a nice singing voice and would sometimes join the bands at different clubs to sing and play his guitar; country music, of course.
Jim used to tell me that he couldn't believe that when a person died, they just stopped being. He said as wonderful as a mind is, there has to be something else out there. I hope so. I'd like to think that he's out there still finding the bright side of everything.
He used to call me his best friend and I'd feel ten feet tall. I miss my friend.
Jim was the kind of man who could make people feel good about themselves. I've seen him meet people who were down and, sometimes, out but before Jim left them, they'd found a bright side and were most likely smiling at one of his jokes. He never forgot a joke once he heard it; he could tell them for every occasion. He was a comfortable friend; someone to relax with and know that there were no demands or conditions. Years might pass, but as sure as the sun rises, Jim would remember, not even hesitating over an acquaintance's name. He was creative and enjoyed woodworking and tooling leather and drawing. He had a nice singing voice and would sometimes join the bands at different clubs to sing and play his guitar; country music, of course.
Jim used to tell me that he couldn't believe that when a person died, they just stopped being. He said as wonderful as a mind is, there has to be something else out there. I hope so. I'd like to think that he's out there still finding the bright side of everything.
He used to call me his best friend and I'd feel ten feet tall. I miss my friend.
Jim grew up in Albuqueque, New Mexico. He married Anna Belle and they had two children, Jimmy and Kathy. Jim owned and operated a construction business with his father for a number of years. Jim and Anna later divorced, his father wanted to retire and Jim decided on a change and moved to El Paso, Texas, for a few years. In early 1972, he moved to Phoenix, Arizona.
Jim was the kind of man who could make people feel good about themselves. I've seen him meet people who were down and, sometimes, out but before Jim left them, they'd found a bright side and were most likely smiling at one of his jokes. He never forgot a joke once he heard it; he could tell them for every occasion. He was a comfortable friend; someone to relax with and know that there were no demands or conditions. Years might pass, but as sure as the sun rises, Jim would remember, not even hesitating over an acquaintance's name. He was creative and enjoyed woodworking and tooling leather and drawing. He had a nice singing voice and would sometimes join the bands at different clubs to sing and play his guitar; country music, of course.
Jim used to tell me that he couldn't believe that when a person died, they just stopped being. He said as wonderful as a mind is, there has to be something else out there. I hope so. I'd like to think that he's out there still finding the bright side of everything.
He used to call me his best friend and I'd feel ten feet tall. I miss my friend.
Jim was the kind of man who could make people feel good about themselves. I've seen him meet people who were down and, sometimes, out but before Jim left them, they'd found a bright side and were most likely smiling at one of his jokes. He never forgot a joke once he heard it; he could tell them for every occasion. He was a comfortable friend; someone to relax with and know that there were no demands or conditions. Years might pass, but as sure as the sun rises, Jim would remember, not even hesitating over an acquaintance's name. He was creative and enjoyed woodworking and tooling leather and drawing. He had a nice singing voice and would sometimes join the bands at different clubs to sing and play his guitar; country music, of course.
Jim used to tell me that he couldn't believe that when a person died, they just stopped being. He said as wonderful as a mind is, there has to be something else out there. I hope so. I'd like to think that he's out there still finding the bright side of everything.
He used to call me his best friend and I'd feel ten feet tall. I miss my friend.
