Jack H. Ramsthaler

1929 - 2014

Jack Herbert Ramsthaler passed away Saturday, Oct. 25, 2014, in Denver, from Alzheimer's.

You may remember Jack as a talented engineer, a neighbor, a coworker or a friend, but to me, he was the best dad in the world, and that's how I'll remember him here.

Dad was born March 4, 1929, in Barberton, Ohio, to Hazel and Louis Ramsthaler. He was a good student who dreamed of growing up to fly rockets. He confessed that one of his first rocket experiments made a big explosion behind a gas station, and how relieved he was that nobody discovered he was behind it.

Dad's father encouraged him to study engineering. He claimed to have had no idea what an engineer did and no opinion about whether he wanted to be one. But, he said it didn't occur to him to question his father's advice, so he enrolled at Ohio State to study engineering.

Dad married Phyllis Ann Ballentine shortly after graduation. They moved to Philadelphia, where Dad had his first job at Atlantic Refining.

Mom and Dad had three children: Robin, Jackie and David in the Philadelphia area. In 1958, Dad got a job in Sacramento at Aerojet, and they had Tommy in 1964.

What I remember about Dad growing up was that he was hardworking and responsible. He did all those things that dads were supposed to do in the sixties. He went to work in a suit and came home every night for dinner. He probably wouldn't want us to forget that he was also a party boy. He livened up many a party by playing "La Cucaracha" on his accordion and put away his share of the beer. But, I mostly remember him coming home from work, mowing the grass, fixing things around the house and working on projects.

In those days Dad's passion was fixing up old cars. One of his favorites was a classy Lincoln Continental. He was every proud of that car, but he still let his teenagers drive it no matter how many times we used up his gas and changed his easy listening stations to rock 'n' roll.

Dad was laid off from Aerojet in 1972 and got a job in this strange place called Idaho. He didn't talk much about his work, but we knew he was part of a team involved with building rockets to go to space stations. Better than blowing them up behind gas stations.

He liked to pretend he was a tough guy, and he fought me tooth and nail for every pet I begged him for. But then, he'd always give in and build me the hutches, pens and houses I needed for my creatures. One day, he came home and found me crying because my cat passed away. He didn't know how to comfort me, so he suggested we go out and buy the horse I'd been begging him for. Boy, if I'd known how well tears worked, I'd have tried them sooner.

Dad also played racquetball, camped, golfed, skied and backpacked. He loved card games and passed his passion on to his kids. He was an avid bridge player and was well known for being a competitive and occasionally, obnoxious partner. He developed with his sons a lifelong competition to become the Hearts champion of the family which in our minds was synonymous with being Hearts champion of the world. Our family get-togethers generally devolved into marathon Hearts tournaments with the nightly winner earning the right to display higher and higher levels of obnoxiousness.

In Idaho, Dad transferred his passion from cars to airplanes. He earned his pilot's license and collected and built airplanes. He was proud of the fact he was reckless in his flying escapades. The rest of us worried about him. He took trips to Alaska, Mexico and Europe, sometimes flying without a flight plan and little recourse if something went wrong. Reality set in when he made a pilot error and crashed an airplane at takeoff. A passenger was injured, and it was enough that he gave up flying for good.

Dad grew up in a family that didn't talk much or express emotion well, and these skills didn't come easily to him. But somewhere in his adulthood, he learned that talking was part of getting along with the people you love (three failed marriages may have been a clue.) It was heartwarming to witness Dad's awkward attempts to learn how to express the emotions he'd been feeling all along. I remember him confessing that he had to learn how to hug his children, and I vividly remember his arm awkwardly around my shoulder as he comforted me after I lost my first baby.

So, Dad did learn. He finally got marriage right when he married his current wife, Janice Anne Loewen. Together, they built a beautiful home on the golf course of the Idaho Falls Country Club. Dad did much of the work himself. He was so proud of that house.

When his Alzheimer's set in, it was gradual, but relentless. Around 2002, Dad admitted that he thought his memory lapses were something more than normal aging. We refused to believe it at first. But, when he began to lose his ability to fix anything and everything, we had to admit we were losing him.

As he descended into Alzheimer's, Dad remained relentlessly cheerful and was still obsessed with keeping busy. As his abilities dwindled, he derived satisfaction from taking out the trash, mowing the grass and vacuuming the house. The day Jan took away his paintbrush (because he really couldn't be trusted with it) was one of the few times that he really got mad. Most of the time, even though he complained, "I am getting dumb," he still remained upbeat and adjusted his goals to suit his abilities.

We were lucky to have had you, Dad. You were the rock of our lives. You launched us into life with opportunities and stability. You passed on your passion for adventure, your sense of responsibility and your intense competitiveness in card playing.

It's only been a short time since you left this earth, but those of us who loved you have been missing you for far longer. Alzheimer's stole you from us, but because you accepted your fate with such grace and cheerfulness, you made it a little easier for us to accept it too.

I hope you are enjoying your hard fought liberation from Alzheimer's. I bet you found your handmade airplane and are soaring above us all without a care in the world, and I bet you're still without a flight plan.

Goodbye Dad. We'll never stop missing you.

Jack is survived by his wife, Janice Ann Ramsthaler of Denver; his daughters, Robin Piet and Jackie Stephens of Idaho Falls; his sons, David and Tom Ramsthaler of California; seven grandchildren; and one great-granddaughter.

He was preceded in death by his sister, June, and three grandchildren.

A memorial is being planned for early 2015 in Idaho Falls.

Donations in memory of Jack Herbert Ramsthaler can be made to: Alzheimer's Association, Colorado Chapter, 455 Sherman St., Suite 500, Denver, CO 80203-4405.

Condolences can be sent to Jan Ramsthaler, 15151 West Iliff Place, Lakewood, CO 80228.