John Deegan Obituary

John 'Jack' Deegan
Jack Deegan passed peacefully just before dawn at the age of 75. He spent his final days as he wished, surrounded by his family and in the place he called home for nearly fifty years. Most people consider themselves fortunate to have one "real" love in their life. Jack was luckier than most, as he created a life full of the things he loved.
One of seven children born to JD and Ginger Deegan, Jack grew up in the backyards and on the playgrounds of Downers Grove. Playing baseball and football molded his early life on Seeley Avenue. This love of sports weaved a constant thread throughout his life. The voices of the Cubs - Pat Hughes, Ron Santo, and Ron Coomer, provided joy to Jack until the very end.
Watching his mother and father turn their small corner house into a home introduced Jack to the joy of "making." Whether building kitchen cabinets or creating a pond in his Westmont backyard, Jack dreamed and worked to craft a better version of this world.
In a life full of passions and love, one outshone all the rest. At the age of 15, Jack met Mary Kudlacz at a party in LaGrange. On April 9th, 1965 they went to Oak Brook Theater to see Cheyenne Autumn. Six years later, he and Mary were married on the day after Christmas. Their union created a gravity, a force that pulled people toward them and kept them connected no matter how far afield they drifted. It was felt most powerfully around their home on Washington Street, which they lived in for most of their adult lives.
Jack began his career as an educator and that love of learning continued throughout his life. Even when he left the classroom for a career in construction, he always retained his love of education. While he understood that he could never "know" all the things he wished, he did his best to pass along his insatiable appetite for knowledge to all those around him. None benefited more from this passion than his children.
Jack and Mary brought five babies into the world, and even though Jack thought he had given his whole heart to Mary, he discovered a new reservoir of love for his children. As in any successful partnership, Jack and Mary acted as complements. As Mary fussed and worried, Jack provided a counterbalance. He loved quietly from a distance, challenging his children to be adventurous and independent. Jack and Mary's house grew into a place where all were welcomed. Their nieces and nephews, neighbors, and their children's friends found a haven where they could be themselves and discuss a complicated world.
As Jack and Mary's children grew and found love of their own, they made more room in their hearts. The spouses of their children became part of his ever widening family and through marriage their number of children doubled from five to ten. All ten children emulate the curiosity, empathy, hope, and creative spirit, modeled so consistently by their parents.
Perhaps the only love in Jack's life that could compare to his love for Mary, was his love for his grandchildren. His blue eyes sparkled whenever his grandchildren entered the room. He delighted in talking sports with them, watching them act on the stage or compete in athletics, or simply just pulling them aside and talking about whatever was going on in their lives. Papa Jack created a space without judgement, where they could safely share ideas about the world, their lives, and even their parents. He spent hours sharing his love of reading, and the spot next to Papa on the couch became the most coveted seat in the house.
He would say often, near the end, that he was a "lucky" man, and he was. He was lucky to be born to Jack and Ginger. He was incredibly lucky to meet Mary that night in laGrange, but the rest… that wasn't lucky.
He learned from his parents that "a life of love was a life well-lived." He taught these same lessons to his children, his friends, and his grandchildren. Jack lived the life he cultivated, one filled with friendship, family, hope, and most of all… love. This was the life he and Mary built for themselves and we are the ones who feel lucky.