We gather here today with hearts broken and voices trembling under the weight of a loss too great for words. Because today, we remember John—not just a man, but the man. The last best man.

John was only 63. Far too young by any standard. But what he gave in those 63 years—the love, the integrity, the steadiness, the sheer goodness—is more than most could offer in a century. He didn’t just walk among us. He lifted us. Quietly. Consistently. Humbly.

You couldn’t find a soul who had a bad word to say about him. People will talk, but not about John. Because how do you criticize a man who lived so selflessly, who gave so generously, who showed up so reliably?

Throughout Lethbridge, John made his name as the top eavestrough man. The kind of tradesman who didn’t just do a job—he set a standard. He passed his knowledge to his sons not to forge a legacy, but to bestow a gift. A trade, yes—but also a trade in integrity, pride, and excellence. His sons carry not just his name but his ethic. They run successful businesses because they were taught by the best—and not just in technique, but in character.

John was the steady hand in every storm. Fair. Patient. Measured. He had that rare ability to always say the right thing—and more impressively, to know when to say nothing at all. He never needed to raise his voice to be heard. People listened because his words had weight. His silence did too.

John deeply loved and revered his father—aspired to be half the man. He held his dear mother in the highest esteem, and she him. The immense love they shared will carry on.

He loved his wife with the kind of devotion that humbles the rest of us. It wasn’t loud or performative. It was steady. Undeniable. Sacred. He was her anchor, her champion, her best friend. He was the love of her life. And he made sure she always knew it.

To his children, he was the constant example. The man who showed what it means to lead without ego, to protect without control, to love without condition. His family was his everything—and he showed that not with grand gestures, but with a thousand little acts of love, every single day.

Love wasn’t just something John gave. It was his life blood. It moved through him in everything he did—in how he worked, how he listened, how he served, how he stayed. He didn’t just love people. He made people feel loved—known, and safe.

And now he’s gone. And we are inconsolable. Because the hole he leaves is not just the absence of a man—it’s the absence of a presence. A force. A goodness so rare that it almost didn’t seem possible.

But here’s the thing. John is not gone in the ways that matter most. He’s in the way his sons provide and protect. He’s in the way his wife warriors on. He’s in the way his daughters love and nurture their families. He’s in the way his grandkids brim with excitement reeling in the big ones. He’s in every quiet act of patience, every fair decision, every person who now knows what it looks like when a man lives with decency, devotion, and dignity.

He was the best of all of us.

John’s happy place was next to a crackling fire in the mountains, not far from the lake, humming the tune of Take Me Home Country Roads. For those lucky enough to spend time with him there, it felt like heaven on earth.

John—thank you for showing us how to be good. How to be strong. How to be love. You were, and will forever remain, the last best man.

We miss you beyond what words can express.

And we always will.

A Celebration of John’s life will be held at ONE LIFE CHURCH, 501 – 40 Street South, Lethbridge, AB, on Thursday, July 3, 2025 at 1:30 P.M. with Pastor Wayne Boersma officiating.

The Celebration of life will be live-streamed and may be viewed through John’s obituary on the Cornerstone website.