John E. Lombardo

This is definitely one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to write. I don’t know if anything I can say about him will ever adequately express how great my dad was. The overwhelming number of people that came to pay their respects last night was a testament to it, but nothing compared to John Lombardo himself.

My dad was nothing if not a character. From his handsome and expressive face to the Chicago accent and characteristic phrases (fuggedaboudit) to his strong, strong opinions, he was never one to blend quietly in a crowd. He was usually in the middle of the action. One of the best things about Dad was the fact that at heart he was pretty much a twelve-year-old boy. At family parties all the kids flocked to play with him, and they all adored him. My two-year-old cousin Ellie summed it up best when she said, “You’re so funny, Uncle John.” He got down to our level – from participating in “Let’s Pretend” games like “Trolls and Princesses” with Kris and I, to his multitude of funny faces to make us laugh, to a few weeks ago when I walked into the family room to find my dad and Ellie jumping up and down together amidst her cries of “We’re dancin! We’re dancin!”

He taught me to play pool, to throw and hit and catch, to solder and to build and fix things. He let me pretend to drive and turn the key in the ignition to start the car when I was little, and then when I got my driver’s permit he took me to Resurrection’s parking lot and let me drive around. A few days later he voluntarily let me drive our new car on the street, admonishing me, “Just don’t tell your mother.”

Dad taught me to stand up for myself, to stick by my family and friends, and to have confidence and faith in myself. He took care of me and brought me milkshakes and stuffed animals when I was sick. He showed me how to love someone, fiercely and affectionately and with immense loyalty. He taught me the importance of working hard – Dad was always willing to work overtime or a second job to give us everything we wanted and needed. And when he came home he was never too tired to attend a softball game, run errands, or chauffeur us around. And although he wasn’t exactly known for his patience (especially with people who were not ON TIME like he always was) he coached preteen and teenage girls in softball and basketball for 10 years (not an easy task, I’ll tell you.) And he never really yelled at us, just at the umps and refs. And of course, he taught Kris and I that the White Sox are the best team around - he’d say “I have two favorite teams: the Sox, and whoever is playing the Cubs.” And I will never forget his insistence that we buy American-made.

Every time, without fail, the Tom Petty song “I Won’t Back Down” came on, Dad would turn to me and say “Laur.” I’d ask “What, Dad?” He’d turn up the radio and say “Laur… this is your song.” I’d say “Well if it’s my song, then it’s definitely YOUR song too.” And that’s how my dad was – everything about him was strong. He didn’t back down. And I was never afraid because I knew he was behind me. One famous quote is, “If anyone ever gives you trouble, you let me know and I’ll go over to their house and have a little chat with their father. If that doesn’t work, I’ll beat him up and they’ll never bother you again.” I don’t think he was kidding either.

My dad loved my sister and I so much, and believed in and supported us every inch of the way. Even when I made the decision to move to Florida last August, which he wasn’t happy about, he and my mom let me go and did everything they could to help me, and never said “we told you so” when I came back after the fall semester. It wasn’t till I was far away from them that I really came to appreciate my parents and all they did for me. I’m grateful for that experience because I began to see my parents as people and to count them as friends as well as mom and dad. And my dad was nice enough to give up two weekends to drive 2000 miles with me to move my things there and back. I’m thankful for that because we had a great time and I got to know him on a new level. And of course, when we arrived there in August, my dad asked me where Justin, one of my new roommates, was. I told him Justin was still in south Florida and wouldn’t be back for a few more days. “Oh,” Dad said. I asked him why. He said, “Well, he’s going to be living with my daughter, so I wanted to have a lil’ sit-down with him before I left.”

Dad was always willing to go the extra mile for Kris and I and loved us no matter what we did or how far we pushed him. I could not have asked for a better father, and I’m going to miss him dearly, as I know we all will. I love you Daddy and I promise to keep making you proud. Thank you for everything you’ve done and given us, and for always being there. And thank you to all of you for coming here today for him.

This is the eulogy written by one of his lifelong best friends, Tom Treslo:

Sometime early Saturday morning on May 18, John Lombardo very quietly left our world and all indications suggest that he didn’t suffer or feel any pain. But even with his departure, he didn’t go without leaving an impression. In some way John touched each and every one of us.

If you knew John, you knew that he wasn’t just a middle of the road guy. John knew exactly how he felt about everything and wasn’t afraid to let you know, whether you wanted to or not.

John was a devoted Sox fan inside and out, but he didn’t just not like the Cubs; he hated them. However, he put his feelings aside and took his mom, a devoted Cubs fan, to a game at Wrigley Field. John was also a loyal Chicago Bears fan, but he didn’t just not like the Green Bay Packers, he hated them. John was truly a sports fan and was a great coach and coached both Laura and Kristen in softball for many, many seasons. He always amazed me at how he could remember important dates and statistics about sports or other events and he never forgot a joke. Like his dad, John was a great joke teller or always had a funny story to tell.

Speaking of funny stories, John was always famous for being a little bit rough on cars. One evening after hours, back in the early seventies, a couple of our friends were standing on the corner of Lockwood and North Ave. All of a sudden a car screeched around the corner off of North Ave onto Lockwood going north, and then took a sharp left turn into the alley and a loud crash was heard. They walked over to investigate and found that John had just side-swiped a telephone pole. They made sure that he was okay and then he got back in his car and drove home. None of us ever heard anything else about that crash again until some years later when John’s mom and dad had a party for him just before he got married to Mary. We were all reminiscing about old times and his dad asked John if he remembered the time when he came home late one night and parked the car in front of the house and went to bed. John’s dad woke him up the next morning and asked him how the car got all banged up. John played dumb and said that he didn’t know, that maybe somebody drove by and sideswiped it. Then his dad said that that would be kind of hard to do because the driver would have had to go up on the parkway and flatten a tree before he would have even hit the car. John had parked the smashed-up side of the car by the curb.

But of all the things that stand out in my mind about John, the one thing that I will never forget is what kind of a friend he was. I am sure many of you here would agree with me that if you ever needed help with ANYTHING, John would be there unconditionally. He was always willing to help his friends and family. John loved parties, his birthday and other people’s birthdays as well. He loved to have a good time. Every Wednesday night he would visit his mom and sister or his dad and Mary and then would go off to meet his brother Tony and brother-in-law Jerry and whoever else showed up at the bar. John’s family was important to him.

John loved to get together with all the guys from the old neighborhood and one of his favorite events was the annual raft trip. The trip will never be the same without him and I know he is ticked off right now because he is not going to be able to make the trip. But I know he will definitely be there in spirit. John had a tough guy exterior but a soft heart. He loved Mary and the girls and was very proud of all three of them. John and Mary’s house was always open to their friends and family and I will always cherish all the great times I had there. If it weren’t for John and Mary, I would not be married to Donna today. They made sure that we got together.

Whenever John was over at my house and the kids were around, he would be tickling them or teasing them and they really loved him. Kids seemed to gravitate toward John. All of his nieces and nephew loved being around him. He was the fun uncle. Even our dog Coco was a big fan of John and would go crazy when he came over.

About two weeks ago, John and I met some of our friends from the old neighborhood at Duggan’s on Milwaukee Ave. John picked me up and we talked about our upcoming raft trip which would be on this Memorial Day weekend. This year I believe would be our 26th or 27th year. John was pretty excited because he was driving up with his nephew, Tom Dillon, who would be in from the east coast. They planned on playing some golf. We had a very nice evening at Duggan’s as it was great to see some of the guys. We left Duggan’s at about 1:30 and John gave me a ride home and I shook hands with him and told him that I would see him in two weeks up at Shawano. That was the last time I saw him.