On October 6, I received news from my father that our family friend, Jack DeMeo, passed away at age 82.
It didn’t make a lot of sense to me at first. I’d recently seen him and his wife, Judy (whom my sister and I lovingly call tante, or great aunt, in Indonesian), at the opening day of the horse races at the Sonoma County Fair. He was shaking hands and smiling from ear to ear in classic Jack fashion, lighting up the VIP lounge with his laughter. It was not the behavior of a man fighting a terminal illness.
But fighting isn’t a strange concept for him. He built a legacy out of his legal practice, which he’s been working at longer than I’ve been alive. His father, Nick, and brother, Charles “Chops” DeMeo, founded the law firm, DeMeo & DeMeo, in 1934. Jack joined the practice after earning his law degree at UC Hastings College of Law in 1958. From the family law office, Jack earned a reputation for being inexhaustible, dogged and undeterred in the courtroom, representing his clients in court for workplace injuries and rights for nearly 60 years.
During that time, Jack also contributed much of his personal wealth and time into growing his community. He sat on the board for the Sonoma County Fair, became one of the first patrons and contributors to Cardinal Newman High School, established the Valley of the Moon Children’s Home and, literally, lit up Piner High School by providing financial aid for stadium lights. The list of Jack and Judy’s goodwill could stretch pages, but the message was always the same: give to those who needed the most help.
I was just a kid when I first met them. Our house’s backyard was connected via fence to the backyard of his daughter, Nancy DeMeo (who’s daughter, Jade, was my sister’s best friend). Our families seemed to do everything together, from soccer games to fireworks shows. And Jack and Judy always looked for an excuse to see the grandkids, which meant we had a fair amount of time with them, too. Soon enough, we were heading to their Occidental Road house for Easter and Thanksgiving, where I met their other children: The banjo-picking, honorable son judge Brad DeMeo; and their second wonderful, effervescent daughter, Emily DeMeo, who carries on Jack’s work at the family law firm.
It was during Easter when I remember the funniest things about Jack. This magnanimous and respected
man—a scholar, activist and giant of goodwill—dressed up as the Easter Bunny and chasing his grandkids around the house. This larger-than-life man, decked with cottontail, floppy ears and whiskers, always went the extra mile to make us all laugh.
“Even during his last days, he kept his sense of humor,” says Nancy. “He’d wake up everyday saying, ‘What, am I still here? What’s a guy gotta do to get out of here?” And it never failed to make us laugh every time. The memory of him in his bed with his grandkids and children around him brings a tear to my eye.”
That’s the Jack I’ll remember forever. And the Jack that shone in every part of his life. There weren’t enough chairs nor enough space for everyone who wanted to pay their last respects to Jack DeMeo and give their condolences to Judy. Such was his impact in our community. He was our champion, our friend, our Easter Bunny. And he is sorely missed.
