Christening Loved Ones
It is something of a toss- up as to which game John Wallice Jr. liked better: golf or bear. He was a long-shooter on the links with the habit of putting from crazy angles. His handicap was five or six, though it would sometimes fluctuate depending on who he was playing.
Bear was a different sort of game, played on the fairways of Mr. Wallice's backyard in Huntington Bay, N.Y., during family cookouts. He would rise from the table, spread his arms wide, make scary noises and chase the children around the yard.
Mr. Wallice, 43, was an international equities trader at Cantor Fitzgerald, but despite his success he saved his finest work for home. He loved to swim in Huntington Bay, and his three boys ‹ Jack, 9; Christian, 7; and Patrick, 4 ‹ would tag along as he dipped into the water. "They were like three tails everywhere he went," said his wife, Allison.
John Wallice had that knack for putting people at ease. He did it simply: he gave out nicknames to everyone he loved. His sister, Kim, was Red for her red hair. Another sister, Pam, was Mo. His third sister, Amy, was known as Baby, and Paul, his brother, somehow went by Joe.
His wife and sons had too many names to count. "That was his way to connect," Mrs. Wallice said. "Once you got a name, it was almost like you'd been christened."
Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on November 22, 2001.