John Phillip Farrington
John Phillip Farrington
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John Farrington Obituary
Born in Little Rock, Arkansas, to Ann (Settle) Farrington and Phillip Henry Farrington, John spent his early years between Massachusetts and Arkansas before finding his true home in Texas. He was a man of strong convictions, razor-sharp focus, and unwavering loyalty - never one to follow the crowd, always one to follow his own compass.
John was a cabler by trade and a road warrior at heart. Before starting his own company in 1999, he worked jobs across the country with his tools in the back and a fishing rod always within reach - never passing up a chance to cast a line wherever the water called to him. Eventually, the pull of amateur motorcycle racing brought him back to DFW. He started later than most, sleeping in his truck at the track, stretching every dollar on tires and parts, and chasing speed on two wheels with sheer determination. It was the perfect outlet for his mix of technical precision, physical strength, and gritty, low-budget craftsmanship.
Motorcycles were more than a hobby to John - they were a way of life. Whether he was riding, racing, wrenching, or reading about them, two wheels were always close by. The obsession started early: as a kid in Massachusetts, he traded his best baseball cards for one ride on a neighbor's minibike. That ride sealed the deal.
In the 1990s, John raced in the CMRA and TMGPS circuits, chasing the podium with a fire he rarely spoke of - but those who knew him knew second place didn't sit well. When the racing slowed, he turned that same intensity toward restoring classic bikes - especially vintage Japanese and European models - with a level of care and precision that bordered between obsession and art.
What he cherished most, though, was the conversation: a good MotoGP debate, a shared road story, the thrill of tracking down a rare part, or just the satisfaction of swapping insights over a freshly tuned engine. Some of those conversations turned into friendships. But even when they didn't, talking motorcycles was its own kind of happiness.
Outside the garage, John had equal passion for fishing and preserving wild spaces. He planted Texas wildflowers, tended land and critters, and had a soft spot for crows - always grinning as he'd say, "I'm watching a murder in the front yard." He cared deeply about protecting native ecosystems and had strong opinions about invasive species.
He is survived by his wife, Denise Fagan; his father, Phillip Farrington; his sisters, Mary Farrington and Amy Farrington; Mary's husband, Kevin Woolley; and their sons, Phillip and David Woolley.
He was preceded in death by his mother, Ann, who passed along her love for animals and quiet natural places.
John lived simply and purposefully. He didn't need much - just the right tools (or ones he built himself), a good fishing spot, and some land to tend. He had a deep, unspoken respect for those who served - especially members of the military, law enforcement, and fire services - and quietly admired anyone who stepped up when others turned away.
John hated funerals. And dressing up. His version of "fancy" was a button-down shirt. To honor that spirit, a Celebration of Life will be held Friday, August 29, 2025, at 11:00 a.m. at Old Frankford Church, 17400 Muirfield Drive, Dallas, TX 75287. Come as you are - motorcycle tee, work boots, Sunday best - whatever reminds you of him.
The church and its prairie grounds are lovingly maintained by the Frankford Preservation Foundation - a mission John respected. In lieu of flowers or gifts, please consider a donation to the Foundation in his honor.
Directions note: GPS can be a little quirky. From the Dallas North Tollway and Frankford Road, head east on Frankford, then take the first right just past the Taco Bell onto Spyglass Dr. Go about 0.7 miles and turn right on Muirfield Dr.
In John's memory, take time to notice the wild things, respect the land and water - and let the creatures be.
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3 Entries
Steve Wingader
September 16, 2025
I first met John in June of 2010, when my wife, Cathy, and I headed south to try our luck living in the DFW area. My wife and Denise (John´s wife) are close, long-time friends, and Denise had suggested that DFW might provide a better economic opportunity for the two of us. Like many around the time of the Great Financial Crisis, we had been going through some job struggles while living in Wisconsin. Denise was kind enough to offer us a place to stay at her home in Dallas while we got acclimated to the area and searched for jobs.
Upon our arrival we were warmly welcomed by Denise and John. I remember John being especially happy to find out that I was a fellow fisherman, especially the catch and release kind. During our first night, John and Denise treated us to our first taste of Texas Barbecue which we instantly fell in love with. On a Friday before one of our early weekends there, John told me that he was going to take me bass fishing at Lake Fork with his friend, Mike, who happened to own a nice bass boat. At first I was excited, until I saw on the news that the Saturday forecast was for clear skies and a high temperature of 99 degrees, at which point fear set in. In the midwest, where I came from, you generally didn´t go outside when it was that hot, you stayed indoors to avoid heat stroke. I expressed my concerns to John and he laughed it off and assured me that I would be fine. Welcome to Texas fishing!.
When Saturday arrived we headed over to his friend´s house at sunrise, hitched up the boat and headed east to the lake. Along the way John passionately told me about Lake Fork´s legacy as the trophy bass Capitol of Texas and about some of the catches that he and Mike had made there over the years. After completing the two hour drive, we finally got the boat in the water and headed to some of the hotspots that they had fished prior. Within a short-time Mike hooked into a 6.5 pounder, landed it, and then after capturing a quick photo, released it. John and I congratulated him but by the irritated look on John´s face I could tell that he was a little upset that it was not he who had caught that first fish. A key point I learned during this outing was that they were both highly competitive with each other, as there was a formal points challenge in play (points for who caught the most fish and for who caught the biggest fish). Throughout the day, John and Mike both traded the top points spot until a winner was declared at sunset. If I remember correctly, John narrowly won that day. Although I caught a few decent fish, I came in a distant third, which John blamed mostly on me using "inadequate" northern fishing gear for Texas bass. Although I had a good time, I admit that I really struggled acclimating to 10 hours of fishing under the blazing sun. In fact ,it took me a good two days to fully recover. John acted as if it was nothing, even though he got more sunburned than I did. It was apparent from that day on that John had a certain grit to him that I lacked.
We ended up staying with Denise and John for a couple of months before finally signing an apartment lease up north in Frisco. During that time, and for about a year and a half after, I shared a lot of fishing adventures with John not only on Lake Fork, but also Lake Texoma, Lake Welsh, Lake Monticello and at Lake Whitney, near John´s property. On one of the trips to Lake Fork I was fortunate enough to be present when John landed the biggest bass of his life, a 12+ pound beauty. I can certainly attest to the fact that John was a very fine fisherman.
Besides my fishing memories with John, I have other memories of John as my employer that I would like to share as well. During the time we lived with Denise and John both my wife and I tried hard to find work but after countless applications sent and unsuccessful interview attempts we were both unable to land any work in our respective career fields. It got to the point where we started feeling like burdens on the two of them, so we decided it was time to move out. I think John sensed our frustrations so he was nice enough to offer me the opportunity to pick up some work through his commercial cable business. He told me he needed a helper and that he would be willing to train me. Even though the amount of pay he offered seemed more than generous for a greenhorn, I was reluctant to take his offer because, as I explained to him, I had absolutely no experience doing any sort of work like that. I certainly wasn´t comfortable working on ladders which was a big part of the job requirement. My career expertise was in banking not in the trades. So, my initial response was to tell him, "Thanks, but no thanks!" When another couple of months passed though, with no job prospects, I contacted John and asked if I could still take him up on his offer. Fortunately, he said, "Yes".
Before my first day on the job he gave me a box of ethernet cable, some ethernet jacks and a few tools and told me I´d have to master how to terminate the jacks with the cable before I could go out with him. He showed me what to do and told me to practice until I mastered it and then to call him when I was ready. It took me a weekend of practice before I felt comfortable with the process. A short time later I joined John on a job site. From that time on I quickly learned what a master cabler John was. He knew what he was doing at all times and when he ran into obstacles he was quick to overcome them all with his expert troubleshooting skills. It took me several weeks to get somewhat comfortable with the tasks but eventually I found the work pretty interesting. Fortunately, John was patient enough with me through the worst of my learning curve and he was always generous to me, regularly buying me gas station breakfasts on the way to the job sites. I need to mention that I wasn´t the only helper that John used. He had some others, mostly people like me who had fallen on some hard times through the bad economy or in some cases through their own bad lifestyle choices. I could see that John had a compassionate heart and he felt compelled to help people, particularly those who were struggling. John didn´t judge any of us as long as we showed up for work, worked hard and didn´t embarrass him on the job site.
I managed to work for him for almost a year but I never amounted to much of a cabler, as I was kind of clumsy and uncomfortable on the ladder even after all that time. On one occasion I put John in a precarious position at the worst type of job site possible, at an attorney´s office. I tried emulating John´s balancing skills by standing on the top step of a ladder. While reaching for a cable up above the ceiling tiles, I lost my balance and kicked out the ladder, falling and landing flat on my back on the cement floor below. When I opened my eyes and looked up I saw John standing above me with a worried look of horror on his face, probably thinking I had broken my neck, while a bunch of attorneys rushed over to see if I was alright. When John discovered that I was uninjured he had me sit out the rest of the day. From that day on I was used much more sparingly on job sites, which I certainly understood from his standpoint. Denise told me later that a worker getting hurt on the job was one of his greatest fears. Even after that though, he would still find ways to pay me for my help, even if it wasn´t on one of his job sites. This often involved taking me out to his property for a few hours of work, but with much more time dedicated to fishing than working. He also bought me an expensive fishing pole as a Christmas gift around this time. The kind that he used to use.
Not long after that incident at the attorney´s office, I decided it was time for me to move on from the commercial cabling gig. Well, one thing led to another, and due to my newly learned skills and work experience acquired through John, an unexpected door opened up to me in the telecommunication field that lasted for the next twelve years. Looking back, I´m very appreciative to John for offering me a helping hand and his friendship when I needed it the most.
Although we didn´t get together as much as I would have liked over the last several years, I will always remember and cherish those times that we did spend together. At this moment the world feels pretty empty without you in it. At some point I hope to see you on the other side, John. Tight lines, brother.
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Steve Wingader
August 4, 2025
John's 12 pound plus trophy largemouth bass caught at Lake Fork in March of 2011.
Jeff Winkles
July 21, 2025
John was and is a force of nature. He could make anything with his hands. I saw many of the motorcycles and projects he restored, and it was simply amazing. I know John would want to be remembered for his honesty, his hard work, and his incredible craftsmanship. But there is something else I would like to remember about my friend. John had an incredibly kind heart beneath that rough, John Wayne exterior. He loved giving to others. Every year, John would order two boxes of his famous Texas chewy pecan pralines and millionaires for his clients and friends and take to the road "playing Santa Claus". He never missed a year in all the times I knew him, and you could see the joy in his face hand delivering every box. One time he showed me a West German military bike that he had meticulously restored, even down to the details of an original riding bag attached to the back of that bike. John and I shared a love of military history together, so I remarked how cool that riding bag on the back of the bike looked. He told me the painstaking research and phone calls he made to track down that part for the finishing touch. A couple of months later, John shows up with a second riding bag identical to the first and gives it to me. That´s John. I know John loved his Pa, his siblings, and Denise. I only got to see the two of them interact as a couple on one occasion, but I could see their great affection for one another. John was proud of how smart and accomplished Denise is, and like every good husband- he cracked me up one afternoon when he was showing me one of his bikes and said I have to get this mess cleaned up before Denise gets home! John would already be annoyed that I wrote so much, so let me simply say I miss you, my friend. Thank you for everything!
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