John Patrick Hynes

life story

Bright-eyed in 2018 after performing at the Ordway theatre with the Giving Voice Choir on Father's Day

“The life and passion of a person leave an imprint on the ether of a place. Love does not remain within the heart, it flows out to build secret tabernacles in a landscape.”

— John O’Donohue

About John (fr obit appearing in Star Tribune)

John Patrick Hynes died peacefully in his sleep on 17 September 2021 after a full life, well-lived. He was pre-deceased by his wife Jeanne (1935-2017). He is survived by five children – Beth Hynes-Ciernia, Ruth Hynes, Robert Hynes, Nancy J. Hynes and Daniel Hynes – and four grandchildren – Shannon, Cory, Fiona and Zach – and one great-grandchild, Charlotte.

John was born on a farm in Faribault County in 1935, and the farm remained in his heart. He was guided through his life by his father Stanley’s steadiness and quiet love and his mother Charlotte’s unflagging spirit and generosity. The farm taught him resourcefulness and satisfaction in honest work well done; his family inspired interest in reading, ideas and politics, as well as an earthy humour and delight in mischief he shared with his sisters, Rosemary and Nancy, and his cousins.

His love of science led him to a degree in natural science at St John’s University, Collegeville. His love of gadgets led him to the drama club’s lighting booth. His love of Jeanne Margaret O’Fallon, a club member, soon followed. They were married in 1957 and devoted companions for 60 years.

John and Jeanne shared a passion for social justice. In 1967 they moved their young family from Glen Lake to North Minneapolis to bridge divides of class, race and culture. John was invited on to community boards and their home became a regular meeting place for activists, as well as a place to watch Star Trek with pizza and popcorn: “To boldly go” became a family motto.

In the early 1970s he was laid off from a job at Honeywell and joined the State of Minnesota Environmental Quality Board. Through talking with and learning from people in communities affected by energy-infrastructure plans he created new bridges, just as he’d done on the North Side. He was far from the “over-educated pointy head” he was called at one of the public meetings he loved, but he was delighted by the accusation.

In the late 1980s he did prescient work on what global warming would mean for Minnesota. That concern for the Earth took a more spiritual turn when he and Jeanne joined the team that compiled An Amazing Journey (2004), a resource which celebrated the mystical and physical communion that connects us to each other, our planet and the universe.

He and Jeanne were deeply involved in the establishment of the Spirit of St Stephen’s, a progressive catholic worship community, where he served as a treasured member of the finance committee until 2018. He also helped found the men’s group he was part of for 40 years. Having benefited from a church emergency fund when unemployed, he helped to sustain it, giving generously to those in need, and volunteered with groups for adults with special needs and the homeless. In retirement, he found scope for renewed activism. He and Jeanne ended up outside the gates of his old workplace, Honeywell, with placards calling for peace.

John was a keen photographer; his fascination with the chemistry of light and shade led him to set up his own dark room in the 1960s. He went on to embrace the digital, becoming a resource and guiding hand with computers to family and friends. He was never happier than when singing. One of the songs he sang as part of the St Paul Giving Voice choir at the Ordway in 2018, “Love Never Forgets”, was a particular solace after Jeanne’s death.

“I am an appreciator”, John said. His delight in others knew no bounds – whether of a stranger’s anecdote, Jeanne’s doll collection, the lives of his children or the first smile of a great grand-daughter. Ready to laugh given any excuse, his willingness to look, listen and enjoy remained throughout his life. We will miss this gentle, generous and wide-hearted dad who loved all his children, his planet, and the rich diversity of those who live on her.

--- NJ Hynes, with help from siblings and Oliver

memorial service

A Memorial Service was held at Spirit of St Stephen's

October 22, 2021

Spirit of St. Stephen's Catholic Community 5011 S 31st Ave, Minneapolis, MN 55417, USA

There will be a Zoom event in September 2022 with storytelling about John's life, responding to the slideshow and memorial video. Watch this space!! OR click to follow this obit and you'll get updates.

The service in 2021 was taped by videographer John Walsh.

You can watch the service here:

https://youtu.be/F7MQ42P0KAc

And view a slideshow of John's life through snapshots here:

https://youtu.be/bQvRIF0Vxlk

A response to John's Obituary in Star Tribune

Candy & Dave Kragthrope

"Yes, this is the essence of such an amazing human being with whom we were so blessed to have known and loved. One more attribute I would add is John's gift for inviting us to consider the other sides of passionately held views. I can hear him now, "Yes, but....."

Thank you, Hynes family, for sharing him with us!

Giving Voice Choir

John and Jeanne joined the Minneapolis Giving Voice choir in 2015, and were founder members of the St Paul Giving Voice choir in 2016. They enjoyed the singing, the socialising, and the performances. Set up for people with dementia and their loved ones, they both said that they felt better after singing together -- "it was fun!" After Jeanne's death with LBD in 2017, John continued as a devoted choir member. A year later, his own diagnosis of LBD brought him full circle.

The performance at the Ordway Theatre, St Paul, on Father's day in 2018, was a highlight for John. The choir sang a cycle of songs especially written for them, reflecting the experiences of those with dementia and their loved ones. "Love Never Forgets" became one of his touchstone songs.

Chex Mix

Like most men of his time, Dad didn't do much cooking while we were growing up. Corn meal mush some winter mornings, sweet corn in the fall, grilled cheese with green peppers, maybe. But one thing he made every Christmas became legendary -- Chex Mix.

As with frozen pizzas, he took an ordinary base and gave it a twist or two, adding embellishments. Cashews, pecans, more nuts. Taking time.

And it took time, the way he made it. Several hours from the assembly of the long list of ingredients to the final, irresistible crunch. The roasting scent of butter, garlic, onion spreading into each room of the house. No-one left untouched. No finger left unlicked, not after a handful of John's chex mix.

The Order of the Brick

A tribute by John to his father-in-law, John O'Fallon (from letter in archives)

I remember on my wedding day, John, when you lent me your shoes. I thought that since I was floating a foot off the floor most of the time, I wouldn't need shoes. Thank heavens, when reality brought me back down to earth, you were there, as you always have been since, ready to provide whatever support was needed (in this case, arch support).

[...]

I remember you both helped us so much when I was out of a job. First by your understanding, your concern, and your strong love, you provided support to me that kept me going with my head held high. Second, by your loving action, a door was opened a crack and then was opened wide to a new opportunity in a direction I could not have imagined, but as a result it has proved me with work that has been fulfilling and fun. Thank you.