I could go on and on about his musical and artistic talents. They were considerable. His musical legacy goes all the way back to the early fifties when he played and sang with dance bands like the Cavaliers. He wrote and recorded some of his own songs over the years.
I could also go on and on about his creative talents in advertising, when he had his own agency, and all of those years that he composed those high-volume color newspaper ads for Bill Heard Chevrolet.
But I won’t.
Instead, I’ll just tell how he and his Beverly affected me with the love and generous spirit that both of them showed so many close friends.
I can remember when I was going through a rather traumatic personal experience. After I had delivered a newscast one night and was headed home, I was so blue I just had to do something. I stopped off, unannounced, at the Suhr’s. I told them I needed a diversion and suggested we watch some Laurel and Hardy shorts. (This was before DVDs.) John wasted no time in treading their projector and all three of us once again laughed out loud at the classic antics of those great movie comedians. I left feeling much better. The Suhr cure always worked.
John had an infectious zest for life. He celebrated it every day, and loved to have friends celebrate it with him.
It would be dishonest to say we agreed about everything. We were not on the same page politically, for instance. But, that didn’t matter. We agreed on so many other things: old movies, new movies, jazz, Frank Sinatra, Warner Brother’s cartoons – the one with the singing and dancing frog is my all-time favorite – good wine, and a lot more.
The one thing that we agreed on most: life is for living, and live full-out he did.