John Davis

Davis, Jr. and Cathy Davis Harrison. His paternal grandparents were Auther Brown Davis and Jimmie Faye Price Davis, and his maternal grandparents were James Edward Sanderson and Thelma Lee Ralston Sanderson.

He is survived by his wife, Angi Spurrier Davis; daughter, Kennedy Kay Davis; mother, Cathy Davis Harrison; stepfather, Dave Harrison; father, Art Davis; and stepmother, Delainia Davis

He is predeceased by his brother Chad Ryan Davis and is survived by siblings

Michael Dorcz, Cassie Campbell, Eddie Harrison, Clay Campbell and Callie Venable; and his sister-in-law, Meredith Spurrier.

John leaves behind many aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, cousins and devoted friends.

His dog Waylon is also missing him.

John grew up in Baytown and the Hill Country, graduating from Smithson Valley High School in Canyon Lake. He attended Southwest Texas State University and the University of North Texas.

In 1994 he asked a classmate to collaborate with him on a college project. They were supposed to work together in the library one morning, but he invited her to lunch instead. Angi Spurrier married John on March 2, 1996. They lived in the Dallas area until 2008, when they moved to Atascocita.

On October 19, 2001, John and Angi welcomed their daughter, Kennedy Kay, to every part of their lives. John was the best dad ever. Thanks to him, Kennedy can fish and hunt and play soccer and tennis and swim. John instilled in Kennedy his love of reading and writing, along with his grit. He helped her get ready in the mornings; her outfits might not always have matched, but he was her best hairstylist. He always was, and always will always be, right here cheering her on.

John was an intellectual redneck. He was at home discussing the merits of Sun Tzu's "The Art of War" as he was showing off his latest catch. He was a perpetual scholar, and soaking up knowledge about current affairs was his passion. When he found a subject that interested him, he spent weeks researching its history and philosophy, then wrote insightful commentary that sparked lively discussion on several political forums.

Baseball was John's sport as a kid, and he attracted the attention of college recruiters as a first baseman. He loved his Dallas teams. His Mavs are world champions, his Rangers are second-time bridesmaids, and his wife loved him so much that she took time off from work to get her picture taken with the Stars' Stanley Cup. He was a diehard Cowboys fan - he supported them good, bad and ugly, and this season truly tested his fortitude.

John was an entrepreneur who embodied the idea that a successful salesman is the one who can sell himself. At the culmination of a long and varied career, John and his partner Larry Skinner oversaw sales and managed operations for D&M Roofing. John had an eye for business potential and a talent for spotting ways to take an idea from good to great.

He had a gift for being able to close the person no one else could sell. It wasn't the payoff that kept John going - it was the thrill of the hunt and the glory of finally closing a sale.

He applied this same philosophy to his hunting. On his first trip with Dave, Eddie and Michael, he saw the biggest buck he'd ever seen. After conferring with the group, John realized the deer was too young to take. Over the years, the boys speculated on the buck's fate - but John found out three years later. On his last hunting trip, John met the same beautiful 9 point buck and took the biggest deer of his life.

He learned that patience and persistence while growing up hunting and fishing with his grandfather and his dad. From them he learned to respect the animal and its environment, a philosophy that helped him earn 2007 North Texas Trophy Cats Rookie of the Year and 2nd place for 2007 on Lake Lewisville and Cedar Creek Lake. He also loved hunting and proudly displayed his trophies, much to his wife's chagrin.

John's favorite saying was "it is what it is." There is no "coulda shoulda woulda," and there's nothing you can do about what's done. But John believed that each moment was an opportunity to make the last one better. Shouldn't we?