John Edward Hunt

John Edward Hunt was born November 14, 1958, in Chicago, Illinois to parents John Baptist and Kathleen Mary (Shinners) Hunt.

Above all else, John Hunt was an exceptional husband and father. The twelve pairs of hands who are helping to write this now could tell you in a million ways how true that is. Our dad dedicated his whole life to living for his family, and after years of our dad speaking about us, constantly, with tears of enthusiasm and love in his eyes, to anyone who would listen, we would like to take the opportunity to return the favor, and talk about our dad, and how purposefully he raised us.

There is a feeling that comes over the room when all of us convene at once. We talk, quietly at first and then with a gradual crescendo, until the air begins to buzz, and finally as it reaches its ultimate state, the room lifts off the ground, and we levitate with it. Now, anyone near that radius of noise could tell you that some receive more attention than others, and our dad had a sixth sense about this. He could be the ringleader, but he was also simply happy to sit back and watch us as we go. And as he did this, he always made sure that every single person in the room felt loved and taken care of.

“How do you live a good life?” Our dad would ask each of us as he hugged us tightly while he sent us off to our first day of college. “You’ve got to stay healthy in four ways - mentally, spiritually, physically, and socially.” Needless to say, his advice made an impact on us. Not only because he would say it constantly, but because our dad raised us by example. He lived his life the way he taught us to live:

Mentally : Mornings have a special place in our hearts because each day our dad would awake at 5 am, pour a cup of coffee he had so proudly programmed to be prepared freshly ground the night before, sit at the kitchen table, read the paper, and greet us as we all, one by one, in our own time, sleepily walked down the stairs to hear him say, “GOOD moooorning!” or “What’s happenin’!” Or our favorite, “so… who was at your little shindig last night?” Reflecting on this now, mornings were his way of making sure he could be there to catch us, hold us for a moment, and let us run off into our worlds, but not before saying those words that hold the crisp air within them: “Good morning, Dad.” Our dad stayed mentally sharp by maintaining a regimented schedule and keeping up with his eleven children through his ritualistic mornings.

Spiritually : In recent years, our dad began to make the daily 4-mile trek home from mass while calling his kids on the journey. He cherished the time he spent saying the rosary together with his family. In retirement, he started teaching Sunday School so he could spend more time with Brendan. He did all of this up until the week he passed away.

Our dad deeply loved his Irish heritage. Around the time we turned fourteen, he took each of us to Ireland, to show us where his parents grew up, and to introduce us to our beautiful family overseas. This spiritual connection to his ancestry lives on 11-fold in us.

Physically : Our dad worked to improve as a person each day of his life. Every day he rode his bike, walked, or ran, which was always followed by a quick dip in the Kimbrough pool. Next, he would head over to the YMCA, not to work out, but just to converse with every single human being there.

Socially : One of our dad’s favorite things to do was to visit us at school. This was his pièce-de-résistance of fatherhood. He would drive in, send a text to let us know he was there, and then find a breakfast place to meet us at. And after breakfast was over, without hesitation, he would get up, hold his stomach, and say as casually as he could muster, “So what’s for lunch? I could eat!” He would send us off to class and promptly start walking to the determined lunch spot, taking hours to get there, with a song in his heart, enjoying every step.

Finally, as we say goodbye to our dad, we say it in the way he would - the same way he would manage to get all thirteen people out of the house, into the car, and to church on time: “Can’t stop now, you know why? Train’s movin’! You gotta go!” And ever comfortable in his own skin, on the car ride, the less he knew the lyrics, the louder he would sing to us, instilling in us a love for music, and a love for each other.

“Well, this train carries saints and sinners

This train carries losers and winners

This train, dreams will not be thwarted

This train, faith will be rewarded”

John is survived by his loving wife Mary Hunt (née Peters); children Mary Kate Cook and husband Brian, John Hunt and wife Katie, Patrick Hunt and fiancé Fabiola Andújar, Edward Hunt and wife Katie Van Dam, Maureen, Neil, Nina, Jacqueline, Theresa, Anne, and Brendan Hunt; grandchildren Hannah and Gabriel Hunt, and Lucy Cook; brother Edward Hunt and wife Susan Foley; niece Bridget O’Brien and husband Shane Martin; great nephews Daniel and the late Christopher Martin; and great niece the late Grace Martin. He was preceded in death by his parents the late John and Kathleen (née Shinners) Hunt; his sister, the late Kathy and her husband, the late Dan O’Brien.

There will be a funeral mass Friday, June 24, 2022, at 2:00 p.m. at St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Catholic Church, Formation Center Chapel at 3100 W Spring Creek Pkwy, Plano, Texas with Rev Bruce Bradley officiating.

John will be laid to rest following the service at Ridgeview West Memorial Park, Frisco, Texas.

In lieu of flowers, the family asks that you donate to Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton or Minnie’s Food Pantry: https:// minniesfoodpantry.org/donate/