If you walked into a gathering of friends and Jack Kanady was there, you knew it. Not because he was talking, but because you’d hear that big, confident, full-throated laugh as he listened to what others were saying.
Jack had a presence honed by observation, great listening skills and a finely tuned sensitivity to those around him. He supported his friends in times of crisis and loss and celebrated every happy life event with them. Always there. Always aware. Always tuned in. That was Jack.
Jack’s ability to empathize and listen served him at the Springfield Veteran Center, where he ran a support group. He rarely talked about his own military experience, but that didn’t stop him from creating a safe environment for his fellow Vietnam veterans to share their experiences.
Jack had many friends. Guys from his platoon in Vietnam. Friends from his Ph.D. study group. His workout buddies. His work colleagues. His National Guard buddies. And probably a lot of people I don’t even know about, because, as I’ve already said, Jack never talked about himself.
The world is a less steady and predictable place without Jack. It’s certainly a sadder place. There’s more chatter, less listening. But oh, that big, joyful laugh … it echoes still.
-Friend Linda Lenzini
This article appears in January 1-7, 2026.
