Long Live John Benjamin
At the end of 2022, my father, John Benjamin, passed away.
John Benjamin was one of the greatest people I’ll ever know. He was a genuine helper, a rebel, and a big kid at heart. One thing I will always admire is how he kept and nurtured his inner child over the years. Every Halloween, he was more excited than me to dress up and loved to have our costumes paired together. The best pairing was when I dressed up as a rock star and he went as my manager. In retrospect, the roles should definitely have been reversed since he was the one always rocking out with his air guitar and was the one who introduced me to Fleetwood Mac, The Beatles, Journey, and countless other musical artists.
He took me to my first concert in high school with three of my friends. We went to see Pink and my dad was definitely the most excited out of any of us. Always the one to be dancing in the aisle at this particular venue, he saw Jewel, John Legend, Linda Ronstadt, and Earth, Wind, & Fire perform mere feet in front of him. His adoration for Stevie Nicks never went away and she continued to appear on any mixed C.D.’S my dad would make. I still have a couple C.D.’S in my car of some Girl’s Mixes he made me years ago. He always chose inspiring songs from women he admired and wanted to share their power with me. I think a lot of who I am is based off who my dad was and who he saw me to be: a strong, plucky, good natured human who definitely played a forward on her soccer team.
He attended all my sports games and even coached my softball team one year. Coincidentally, it was my last year of me playing in my softball league. My dad was my number one cheerleader in everything I did and supported any sport or activity I was interested in, always encouraging me to take big risks and not to be afraid of failing. He was the one who told me to stand up straighter and even lifted me up so I could ride the bigger roller coasters with him. Both of us loved to go to the local fair and any theme park, and were the first ones to try any ride.
Both of us grew up only children, and together we were used to being in our solitude. We would go on countless hikes and sometimes not speak a single word. It was just the enjoyment of our company and the understanding we shared.
One time, we went to Taco Bell to pick up dinner and we both noticed someone outside asking for money. Without saying a word, my dad, unbeknownst to me, bought additional food for that person and I pulled out some money as we were exiting. We both started to walk over to this individual and noticed what the other was doing. We shared a smile and I knew that what I was doing, helping someone, was because of what my father had instilled in me years before.
My father was always a helper. He volunteered at local shops and Meals on Wheels. One of my favorite things to do was to join him on his Meals on Wheels routes. He loved to introduce me to his friends and could spend hours with some of the seniors he visited. My dad always seemed to be living the highest version of himself on those days.
He loved to connect with others on a more one-on-one basis, bringing joy to our community, and being a goofball. My father taught me to never take life too seriously and to always find the good in others and situations.
My dad also taught me the art of photography, how to make much too strong a pot of coffee, to drive with the flow of traffic - which sometimes means going a little above the speed limit, to always be able to laugh at yourself, to stick it to the man whenever you can, that Galaxy Quest and School of Rock are timeless classics, to never be afraid to rock out, to always have a few wigs on hand, a beer and a pulled pork sandwich makes the best lunch, to tell those you love how much they mean to you each and every day, the importance of voting and protesting, and love above all else.
I am forever grateful for my father and hope to carry on in his name and incredible style.
Long live the forever rock star, John Benjamin.
