John Rogers Weinhoffer, 45 of Hutchinson, Kansas buggered off, capitulated, ceased to exist, gave up the ghost, bought the farm, kicked the bucket, crossed over the rainbow bridge . . . that is to say he did indeed, slide from this life on May 8, 2020.
John, aka Dutch, was beyond a doubt, the world’s okayest brother- he didn’t suck at being a son (although we’re all pretty sure he was his own favorite) and overall . . . he wasn’t awful.
According to family lore, he was found under a rock somewhere near Sparta, Illinois on December 12, 1974. He was a chubby little toe-headed baby who spent his days laughing, then crying because he couldn’t figure out where the noise was coming from. (I wish I was making that up.)
Dutch took his place as the youngest sibling seriously and in a family that considers quick wit a must, and sarcasm a competitive sport, he surpassed us all. He did eventually grow up, I use that term loosely, to be the irreverent Wisenheimer we all loved so much.
He was fluent in pig latin, movie quotes and obscure music trivia. He had many hobbies as he enjoyed Doritos a great deal. He also loved karaoke, Comic Con conventions, bad dad jokes and, of course, his video games. He was an avid gamer but unfortunately he went before mastering Banjo Kazoo’s Bubblegloop swamp. Chili mac, new socks and Mountain Dew should get an honorable mention.
He is survived by his Mother, Beverly Rogers of Alva, two brothers, Jim Weinhoffer of Alva, - Matt and Melanye Weinhoffer of Granite City, Illinois - one sister, Laura and Hollis Lamkin of Alva. The angel who was the love of his life and life’s partner Jamie Page and her three daughters Danae, Taylor and sweet Miss Emma. We’re pretty sure just six children, Zachary and Connor of Alva, Braxton and his wife Destiny of Shawnee OK, and David of Kansas City, KS. Two daughters, Talia of Hutchinson and Amethyst of Halstead KS. Three grandchildren Areia, Johnnie and baby Violet; several nieces and nephews and his best friend Brother Jack who, may or may not have paid me in tacos to mention him.
He is preceded in death by one brother David Timothy, his father Ralph Weinhoffer, both sets of maternal and paternal grandparents, a pet goldfish, two horned toads, both named Bruce to avoid confusion, and his one eyed parrot, who suffered from a split personality, he called Sonny and Cher.
As much as he loved his family, he would truly rather chew off his own arm then endure a family gathering of any size for any occasion . . . which is clearly evident in that he chose to be cremated just to avoid attending his own funeral.
We can not paint an accurate picture of who he really was without the recognition of his ridiculous sense of humor, a craft, skillfully honed throughout his life. He was never without a quote from such giants as Mel Brooks, Bugs Bunny or Monty Python. Space Ghost, Family Guy and Southpark were, to his mother’s chagrin, always in his vernacular.
Dutch did truly love life. He was real, he was the laughter and joy, the hope and absolute essence of our tribe. The baby brother, confidant, consoler, keeper of secrets and giver of light and wisdom - he was the heartbeat of this family. His music was his passion, and his joy came from sharing it with those he loved. He was a published poet, singer/songwriter, musician and lover of the arts. When he was around, you didn’t have to be doing or saying anything to feel his presence, just to stand in the room where he was, felt like warm sunlight on a brisk autumn day. The world, our world, was a better place because of him, and his legacy will live on through all of us who loved and adored his stupid face.
To know him was truly to love him, and I do believe Walt Whitman summed it up best when he said, “We were together . . . I forget the rest.”
A celebration of life will be held at a later date, time and place to be determined. He was broke so you might want to bring your own snacks. Shoes and dentures are optional.
In leiu of flowers, donations may be made to his Love Fund.