James E. McCormick

Born March 23, 1942, James E. McCormick of Lisle, passed away on September 13, 2024. Loving husband to Sweetie Pie, formerly known as Yvonne (Pearce), who he snagged as lifelong partner on their first date, which was rumored to end with a smooch in the shadow of a silo situated on Devon Avenue. He became a dedicated dad to three daughters whose relationships were all quite different in their way and yet rendered the same sentiment from each, “My dad is my friend, my hero, and the strongest man I know.” He was and still is the wind beneath our wings.

Devoted grandpa to eight awesome grandkids and adoring great grandpa to seven littles. All members of the growing McCormick clan, his legacy, have been the happy recipients of his generosity, love, humor, and guidance. He was passionate about keeping his family close and he will be profoundly missed by each and every one of them.

Dialing the clock back to his formative years, Jim came up on the streets of what are now some of Chicago’s toughest neighborhoods. It was there where he first developed an appetite for mischief which followed him from Chicago to Lisle and straight to his lifelong friend, Bill. As young lads, the duo partnered in dubious tasks and mostly harmless disruptions that kept neighbors and entire neighborhoods on their toes. Unsurprisingly, their menace continued into their youth, middle, and later years which were marked by endless stories shared around Friday night poker tables, backyard patios and family picnics, and especially around campfires which inevitably concluded with the tips of boots and rubber-soled sneakers melted from the heat and burnt fingers or toes – a result of too much poking at logs and hot embers with sticks too short for the job at hand. We never dreaded hearing those stories or seeing his smiles and laughter. Rather, we encouraged the telling and re-telling. Tell that one again, dad. What we wouldn’t give right now…

Dad’s motto was, if you’re going to do something, then do it right. He finished what he started and always cleaned up afterward, returning everything to its right place. His preference for a great looking yard grew into a passion at retirement when he could be spotted working in grandpa tees, sporting sun-tanned muscles, and bandanas. Each day, hours were spent improving, maintaining, and perfecting the yard and garden. In a sea of mediocre landscapes, his yard stood out – impeccably and lovingly manicured. Thoughtfully placed trees and shrubs standing strong and healthy, overlooking unexpected whimsical scenes with trolls, sparkling stones, and shiny gems. No matter how many gems were shoved in pockets by chubby little fingers, it seemed more appeared out of nowhere. Even in his eighties, the push mower and snow shovels were favored over the readily available riding mower and plow because of their superior performance and opportunity for exercise. This summer, when it was finally time to hang up the tools, Jim did so kicking and hollering. Not literally, but close enough. But seriously, didn’t dad just mow his own lawn a few weeks ago? I think we are all still shaking our heads in confusion, how did the one among us in probably the best shape, get so sick?

Another favorite past time that grew into a regular activity in recent years was his ability to watch Westerns from sunrise, high noon, and well passed sunset. Visitors might be greeted upon entry with his best Harry Callahan squint and a “You’ve gotta ask yourself one question: ‘Do I feel lucky?’ well, do ya punk?” At first there was some eye rolling – not Gunsmoke again. I began to understand it though – an easier time and stunning vistas. Some drama, lots of laughs. And then, I didn’t want to leave until the movie or show ended. And then, I didn’t want to leave at all. Because I didn’t want him to leave when I wasn’t looking.

James was a faithful member of the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers Local Union 201 for 62 years strong which allowed him to work hard and retire early with plenty of life remaining to do what he loved most, enjoy the outdoors with his best gal, Sweetie Pie, by his side. He was patriotic and loved his country. He treasured memories of camping and fishing trips, and seeing the countryside. He never failed to whisper, “don’t forget about our troops”, when someone said a prayer at family dinner. He loved attending parades on Main Street and never forgot to bring in the flag in inclement weather or hang it half-staffed when it was right. He loved our family, our country, and he loved the American flag and what it symbolized for him – to name just a few things: freedom, sacrifice, strength, family, God, hope, hard-work, and opportunity.

Seriously, what would make him happiest is for you to have yourself a seat on the deck, a cold one in one hand and a whiskey or bourbon shot in the other (set your car keys aside) and lift your gaze upward to the heavens with an Irish toast to a fine life, well lived and a short prayer, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

Irish Blessing: May your heart hold happy memories. May they warm you like the sun. May you feel my peace like the solace of the mountains and know my soul was welcomed home. May you remember me under the starry night sky and end each day happy I was in your life.