MONTCLAIR, N.J., Nov. 30, 2004--A funeral Mass for
John D. Strenz of Montclair will be offered at 11 a.m. Thursday
in St. Cassian R.C. Church, 187 Bellevue Ave., Upper Montclair.
A former self-employed contractor, John died Monday at home
following a courageous battle with brain cancer. He was 46.
Born on June 11, 1958, in Montclair, John David Strenz
was the son of Margaret (Peg) and David A. Strenz, a prominent
Upper Montclair realtor for more than 25 years. Except during
his 30s, when he lived in East Stroudsburg, Pa., John spent
most of his life in Montclair. In recent years, he was a stay-at-home
father to his three young daughters, Amanda, Savannah and
Cooper.
He attended St. Cassian's School and graduated from
Mt. Hebron School. A member of Montclair High School's class
of 1976, he earned an associate's degree in aeronautical technology
from Wentworth Institute of Technology in Boston and, in 1983,
a bachelor's degree in aviation administration from Embry-Riddle
Aeronautical University in Daytona Beach, Fla.
An avid pilot who once owned a plane, he was thrilled
when his sisters treated him to a flight in September--the
first time in more than five years he had been in the air.
With an instructor at his side, he piloted a Piper Warrior,
the same type of aircraft he had owned and trained on earlier
at Embry-Riddle.
A self-taught switch-hitter, he lettered in baseball
four straight years at Montclair High, where he was as a pitcher
and right-fielder. In his first appearance as a pitcher in
a Montclair Junior Baseball League game, he uncorked a perfect
game, striking out 17 of 18 batters. Maybe because his career
at the high school overlapped Dale Berra's, he assimilated
some of that sage family's wit and wisdom.
'I'm dyin'. But it's not killin' me'
How else could you explain the conversation he had
with a friend in September that went like this: "Well, Mac,
looks like I'm a short timer on this planet," John said. "That
sucks. How do you feel?" Mac asked."Well it's not the worst.
I mean it is the worst. I'm dyin'. But it's not killin' me."
Amid the irony, the two had a good laugh.
Twenty years ago last Labor Day weekend, he would
meet his future wife, Christian Dubuque, at a mutual friend's
party in Montclair. "We were playing quarters," John said
with a smile, remembering the drinking game that involved
bouncing coins into a glass of beer. "We both won." And on
May 18, 1991, Christian and John were married at the chapel
at East Stroudsburg Airport.
For close to 20 years, John was a self-employed contractor
operating JDS Construction. Sheet-rocking, taping and painting,
as well as kitchen and bathroom remodeling, were the core
of his work. His handy friends considered John among the handiest
of them all, and accordingly he was a frequent source of advice
and counsel.
Not too long ago, a friend approached John for help
installing a bay window above the kitchen sink. "He was the
only guy I could think of with confidence about getting that
beast in," his pal recalled. "John used to have the roughest
hands of anyone I ever met."
They may have softened a little in the years since
he decided to trade in his building skills for home-making.
But his firm grip remained a trademark. On some occasions,
his fellow Emu bowling teammates at the Commonwealth Club
were inclined to be wary after John or they "marked"--threw
a strike or spare. High-fives from John could smart if his
exuberance surpassed a teammate's preparedness.
An admirer of Ansel Adams, John picked up photography
about four years ago, well after the digital dawn. Yet he
remained true to form, inquisitive and devoted to fundamentals.
He acquired an enlarger, learned to develop film and printed
his own images. Just what you'd expect from a guy who counted
among his favorites Jim Crocce, James Taylor, Kathy Mattea,
Joni Mitchell and Joan Baez. Not too long ago he admitted
the obvious: "I'm a softy for love songs."
John was a member of the Commonwealth Club for five
years and was always among the Club's highest-average bowlers.
At the Club's annual golf outing and unofficial championship
two years ago, he captured prizes for both long drive and
closest to the pin. He first started playing golf at age 10,
with his dad, whom he called "Pop" and many knew as "Big Dave,"
at Goldman's, the erstwhile little nine-hole course on Pleasant
Valley Way in West Orange.
One thing John never said during his ordeal: 'Why me?'
Big guy...soft heart...never heard anyone say a bad
word about him--that's the sort of thing you'd hear people
say about John. His friends and family members say there's
one thing John never said during his ordeal: "Why me?" In
September, a friend visiting John commented about the look
of hope he saw in John's eyes. "The hope of Eternal Life,"
John added, quickly completing the sentence.
In September, a friend timidly asked him how he'd
like to be remembered. John replied: "Great dad, great husband.
Darn good bowler, pitcher and pilot. A little cocky, a little
swagger. Started every all-star baseball game in town."
One day earlier this fall, John wasn't able to make
a meeting of prospective soccer coach parents. He had coached
one of his daughters for several years in a Montclair town
league. A friend and neighbor who attended that meeting visited
John soon thereafter and reported that, hands-down, John was
the most requested coach. A soft touch warmed those strong
hands.
In addition to his wife, Christian Dubuque-Strenz,
and mother, Margaret, he is survived by three daughters, Amanda,
Savannah and Cooper; a brother, Robert; six sisters, Patricia,
Ms. Virginia Ash, Ms. Andrea Sgroi, Mary Ellen, Ms. Marjorie
Iacangelo and Rosemary; nieces and nephews.
Funeral arrangements are by the Hugh M. Moriarty
Funeral Home, 76 Park St., Montclair.
In lieu of flowers, contributions may be made to
the John Strenz Memorial Trust. For further information about
contributing to the trust, contact Mary Deatherage of Smith
Barney at 973-890-3015.
After the memorial service, friends, family and Club
members are invited to the Commonwealth Club, 26 Northview
Ave., Upper Montclair, to celebrate John's life.
