Jack Winfield Ross

Jack Ross was born in Marion, Indiana, to Thelma Phyllistine (Phyllis) Belville and Glen Wilson Ross. His parents named him Jack in reference to the code they used in letters to each other during Glen’s service in World War II. When Glenn had been in battle, he wrote to Phyllis that he had seen “Jack,” but all was well.

Jack Ross was full of energy, mischief and intellectual curiosity. Friends remember Phyllis as an elegant, slender woman, resolutely corralling a rambunctious kid who was always rushing headlong after something interesting.

Always an entertainer, Jack was in drama clubs and choral groups in high school. He introduced improv to the Marion drama scene when he decided to go completely off script for a production of Pirates of Penzance, playing to the audience with any witty remark that came to mind. That his performance was not well received by fellow cast members nor by the director did little to dampen Jack’s enthusiasm for theater.

While in high school, Jack performed folk music. During his college years at Indiana Wesleyan University, he toured regional clubs and colleges, and spent summers playing venues on Martha’s Vineyard. After graduation, Jack moved to Nashville and formed a singing duo with Woody Bowles. In 1973, they released an album named Sedalia. Jack wrote songs for Glaser music, and his album, Quite the Handyman, was released in 1975. By the mid-1980s, Jack left the music business, but he never stopped taking pleasure in music. He loved a song with a good hook.

Jack had many talents and, it is fair to say, many lives. After his years in music, he went back to school in the 1980s, first to Belmont and then to Vanderbilt where he earned an MBA. Next, he became a nature photographer, spending a decade shooting landscapes and wildlife in national parks. Later he cared for his aging parents and managed their financial interests. More recently he returned to school again, this time to study graphic art. His pieces are distinguished by uninhibited color and layers of complex texture—not unlike the man himself.

Jack was gracious and a gentleman. Friendly, yet never quite tame. Friends will never forget his quick wit and off-the-wall humor. If someone called you talking in a Robin Williams voice and trying to sell you used, slightly soiled carpet fragments, it was Jack. Over dinner, he might suddenly take on a John Wayne voice, and then plead innocence when waiters laughed uncontrollably.

In fact, Jack’s ready humor could be deceiving. He was at heart a deeply spiritual person of strong principles who found great comfort in his Jewish faith. He asked that in lieu of flowers, gifts be sent to The Temple or to the humane society. He also requested that we all go out and vote.

Jack’s illness was swift, and he regretted leaving many projects unfinished, many books unread, trails unhiked and movies unseen. But there is much he did finish. He created music, rich images and laughter. He loved well, enriching the lives of his friends and family. He is survived by his fiancée, Amy Lynch, and her extended family who had adopted him as their own, and by many dear friends who will remember him with love.

Jack was an independent man—most himself, perhaps, just minutes before dawn, his camera ready, mountains or glaciers around him. He was willing to wait for hours, just to catch the light.

Services will be at 2pm on Tuesday the 22nd at the Temple, 5015 Harding Pike.