I’ve wanted to do this for a while now, but just couldn’t make myself actually sit down and do it. It was too soon… too emotional… too painful… too difficult to admit to myself that it was real. But, I promised our viewers I would share my thoughts about Jon Boaz through a blog, so I guess now’s as good of a time as any.

 

Writing this, in part, means once again having to face the reality that Jon is actually gone. My schedule at the station is such that, once Jon left BVTM, I didn’t really see him that often anyway. So, quite honestly, it’s easier for me to allow myself to NOT think about his passing. It doesn’t hit me square in the face every day as it does for my fellow KBTX-ers on the sales side of the building. Each and every day they are reminded that Jon’s not here. My heart breaks for them. 

 

Even more, my heart breaks for Jon’s family. For his precious mother, who most likely never thought she would outlive her youngest child. For his brother and sister and their families. For Sam. For those who live each day without the generous man with a great sense of humor who loved them all so dearly.

 

I mention Jon’s sense of humor because that is what I find I miss most (see the list at the bottom of this blog for other random things I miss).  I have received countless humorous e-mails since his passing that I have wanted to forward to him, knowing he’d get a kick out of them. Each time I go to click on his name in my address book, I’m given pause. However, I can’t bring myself to remove his listing. 

 

There were so many mornings that Jon’s dry sense of humor would come straight out of left field. We’d be going along like any other morning, and then suddenly he’d make an observation on a story… just a short comment usually… and I’d fall apart laughing. And then, he’d start to chuckle. I think Jon enjoyed making people laugh with his little comments here and there. He didn’t feel the need to be over-the-top and attention grabbing, but he could bring down the house with a well-timed comment. His perspective on life and people was fantastic.

 

I think that perspective is part of what made getting the show out of the studio and on-location so much fun. Behind the desk, Jon was the consummate professional. Now, I’m not saying that his professionalism went out the window when we were out of the studio, but Jon was noticeably different on a live remote. He seemed more relaxed and at ease interacting with the people around us. It was always such fun to see him at work during the Food for Families Food Drive. It’s a great day for all of us, but I would enjoy watching Jon go from car to car, visiting with everyone who took the time to come through the line. For such an early hour (and usually a very cold one, as well), he seemed so filled with energy as he would greet each person with a smile. 

 

Jon was originally only supposed to fill in on the morning show for a few weeks or so. Well, that turned into a few years, and I’m grateful for each one. 

 

After Jon’s funeral, I was able to meet some of his friends from outside of the station. I can’t begin to tell you how much visiting with them meant to me. Jon always kept his personal life to himself. So, being able to meet his friends and hear how much he meant to them, and how much he would be missed, was comforting.

 

Jon led a very full life. He was loved and respected by many. He is now missed by many. I am just one in a long line of people whose lives he touched. 

 

Mine is better for having known him.

 

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                Sunday night phone calls, hearing, “Hey, it’s Boaz,” on the other end of the phone, knowing that meant he wasn’t coming in Monday morning. I didn’t enjoy the calls at the time, but, what I wouldn’t give to hear, “Hey, it’s Boaz,” just one more time.