VETERAN

John “Johnny” Henry O’Hare

September 4, 1915 – July 16, 1981

Lived 65 years

Maple Grove Cemetery · Ravenna, Ohio

Favorite Visit

"Oh the Irish and the Dutch they don't amount to much but the Irish are better than the old damn Dutch"

In service to country

Thank you for your service

John served in the armed forces. We honor that service here.

Life story

Johnny was the eldest of six children born to Henry John O’Hare and Emma Katherine Orr. Four brothers include Harold Francis (Tuffy), Thomas Eugene, Harry Vincent, and William Patrick (Dutch). One sister: Anne Marie.

Ever in his prime, Johnny spent his early years in the ring when, for many, the tough sport of boxing seemed to be a favorite pastime. Competing in the bantamweight division throughout the Akron, Cleveland, and Pittsburgh areas, Johnny boasted a fierce southpaw jab and became widely known by such names as “The Scrapper”, “Baby-faced Irish Lad”, and “Pride of Ravenna”. He quickly drew fame and acclaim winning most of his bouts by TKO. So much so, that he would gain the attention and respect of great professional boxing legends like Joe Louis and Jack Dempsey, who on one occasion, would attend a Pittsburgh fight and reward his impressive performance with a pair of autographed gloves and a wristwatch from Jack Dempsey’s New York Restaurant (see article in Media).

Boxing, however, would soon prove to be a lesser love and but one of the many talents this strong, determined youngster possessed. An earnest, hard-working man of character had yet many other abilities to employ.

In 1937, having twice won the Cleveland Golden Gloves Title, it is said that “Johnny hung up his gloves to become a family man”.

Indeed, a family man he was to be. His first marriage to Mary Sidowski would bless him with two children: John Leo and Sandra Jean. A second marriage to Myrtle “Louise” Stone, would bring four bonus children: Paul Edward, Eugene Edward, Juanita Louise, and Alton Ray Hopkins. Together, Johnny and Louise would then add eight more children to their big, beautiful, blended family: Michael Patrick, Duane Lee and Diane Louise (twins), Deborah Sue, Michele Patricia, Marsha Lynn, Jean Marie, and Judy Darlene.

Husband, Father, Grandfather, Brother, Uncle, Neighbor, Friend, Co-Worker… with a twinkle in his eye and just a hint of a grin, Johnny was the truest image of a proud Irishman. He exemplified the very heart of all things Irish... family, hard work, laughter, love, limerick, dance, music, folklore, and drink.

Next to God and family, work was the passion of his life. He took pride in everything he was and everything he did, sometimes working 16 hours a day, for days on end if that’s what it took, to ensure that his bills were paid and his family’s needs provided.

He found his greatest joys in the simple things of life… like bouncing a baby on his knee. With a gentle kiss on their forehead and whispering his favorite prayer, “God love ‘em”, you could see right through his warm, brown eyes down to his big, soft heart. The tough, feared prizefighter, humbled by a coo.

His day job, as we now call them, was a brick fireman running the kilns at Harbison Walker in Windham, Ohio--but he was oh so much more--a painter, a farmer, a gardener, a small vineyard owner, and a winemaker.

There were numerous vegetable and flower gardens to weed, fruit trees, grapes, and berries to harvest—much canning and freezing to be done—a pony to care for, chickens to feed, eggs to gather, grass to mow, cooking, cleaning, laundry, ironing, shopping, bills to pay, homework to oversee—just how they ever found the time to manage and accomplish it all, in addition to raising their family and the jobs they worked outside the home, we will never know. From the dark hours of the morning when they arose to begin their day, to the dark hours of night, when they would finally retire to their chairs in the front room and drift off to sleep before the late news of the day could all be heard… there was always so much to be done.

A man of many hats, literally, he had one for every occasion; gangster hat, print-front, barn hat, paint hat, hard hat, and all his other hats… He was always dressed for the occasion. And he loved occasions. An unpretentious man of high fashion with good taste. On any given day, he could look like Clark Gable, James Cagney, Mr. Green Jeans, Mr. Rogers, or Arnold Palmer. And dance... he was as light on his feet on a dance floor as ever he had been in the ring. A veritable joy to behold.

Some years back, I came across the following poem someone had written about the Irish that in my opinion characterizes one, John Henry O’Hare, as I knew him, to a T.

What shall I say about the Irish?

The utterly impractical, never predictable, sometimes irascible, quite inexplicable, Irish.

Strange blend of shyness, pride, and conceit

And stubborn refusal to bow in defeat

He’s spoiling and ready to argue and fight

Yet the smile of a child fills his soul with delight

His eyes are the quickest to well up with tears

Yet his strength is the strongest to banish your fears

His hate is as fierce as his devotion is grand

And there is no middle ground on which he will stand

He’s wild, he’s gentle, he’s good and he’s bad

He’s proud and he’s humble, he’s happy and sad