I only knew him as Jack, but I looked forward to my trips to the CVS on Claremont Avenue so I could hear him sing along with the music on the store radio, get a big good morning with a smile, or even, get a friendly lecture about using an expired coupon — Jack was by the book. He was a part of Montclair for many and sadly, Jack Wilson passed away last week.
Debbie Galant shares her blog about the “Man with the great smile” with us here:
There was a man who worked at a local CVS who had an amazing smile and a laugh to go with it.
When I say amazing, I mean the kind of amazing people talk about when they talk about meeting the Dalai Lama. I mean that when you handed him your deodorant and your toothpaste and let him scan your CVS card and hand you a two-foot-long receipt, you couldn’t believe that the person on the other end of that transaction could be so blasted happy about it. There was something about him that lit up that whole dreary place.
You don’t expect to make a connection in a place as corporate and bland as a CVS. We have a collective nostalgia for a Main Street Past, where everyday transactions were attached to real characters: The counter boy at the soda shop, the old pharmacist, the saucy waitress at the diner. We may get this craving from Jimmy Stewart movies, rather than our own pasts, but it’s no less potent a longing.
The closest we come these days is the Starbucks barista who knows that we take a Caffe Latte with skim milk and an extra shot.
So when one of my 1,105 acquaintances on Facebook mentioned the other night that her “favorite CVS employee Jack Wilson died on Friday,” I knew who she meant immediately — even though I’d never bother to learned his name.
She hadn’t either. Neither of us knew it until a sign appeared in the store, with his obit pasted on it, and information about his memorial written in marker.
I certainly had the opportunity to ask his name, to share a few words, to learn something about Jack Wilson. I remember, several years ago, thinking about writing a story about him — that’s more my style than casual banter—but I didn’t do that either. It would have been awkward. It’s easy to interview someone who makes puppets or writes an influential column forThe New York Times. It’s harder to go up to someone and say, “I want to write a profile about your amazing smile.” And so I didn’t.
Arianna Huffington writes movingly, and powerfully, about eulogies in her new book, “Thrive.” That’s where we celebrate people’s smiles, or how they loved their cats, or (as I hope my children will point out when the time comes) how they had a really embarrassing laugh, which could be heard even from the depths of center field and always, always from the stage at Ridgewood Avenue School.
So, without any standing whatsoever, I offer this eulogy of Jack Wilson: He didn’t know me from Adam either, but he always greeted me like I was just the person he was hoping would walk into the store. I would wait in a 20-minute line rather than use self-checkout if he was at the cash register. He may not have amassed wealth or power, but using Arianna’s third metric — the one that incorporates “well-being, wisdom, wonder, and giving”—he was a king.
I saw the Dalai Lama in person at an event at NJPAC in 2011. He was okay. But he was no Jack Wilson.
Very sorry to hear this. He was always cheefully helpful to everyone that came into the store & was one of those people that struck you as being an extraordinary person in a very ordinary place. He made me smile many times during routine and otherwise unmemorable trips to his store. Rest in peace.
Oh so very sorry to read about his passing! I never knew his name and only recently started shopping there but I always enjoyed seeing him with that smile and his wonderful attitude. Rest in peace.
Jack worked at A&P before CVS, I believe.
He was alway helpful and kind.
Rest in Peace.
Montclair lost one of its real treasures today – one of those folks I call “Montclair Perennials” because they seem to be everywhere, all the time, and have always been around, wherever one turns. It was way, way back in the 70’s when I first moved to town that I met Jack while he was a department manager at the A&P on Valley Road. Then, as in the many years to follow, his simple greeting brightened one’s day. He was long retired but continued to work at the CVS on Claremont Avenue, now doubt because he loved people – and they loved him back.
I am so sad to hear this. I noticed last week that he wasn’t there but figured he was on vacation. I first met him in the late 1980s when he worked at Angelbeck’s wine store on Valley Road in Montclair. And he was absolutely memorable for being warm and gregarious. It was always nice to see him at CVS – his cheerfulness and warmth were truly remarkable. He was only 60 and there’s no information about his cause of death. Does anyone have any information?
So sorry to hear this. He was such a nice man. Made everyone feel special. And, yes, a great smile.
NOOOOOOOOO!!! He was so awesome–I always hoped he’d be there when I went in. When I was at that CVS last week I didn’t see him, and I was surprised (it was morning, and he was always there in the morning).
A year or so ago, I thought about telling him how he always made my day with his smile and his attitude–but I felt a little weird about it (and I’m basically shy). Today, I really wish I had said that to him when I was thinking about it–because now I can’t.
Lesson learned.
Seeing this headline in “Latest Comments” I thought, oh no, I hope it’s not him! But of course it was. Such a kind and uplifting being. Safe passage, Jack, we will miss you.
I used to live near the CVS so I was there quite often and Jack also lived in the building near my business so we saw each other very frequently. He was as everyone above me has said, quite a rare little ray of sunshine! Jack apparently had been fighting and was being treated for cancer over the last year or so and finally lost the fight. I can’t believe how many people lately that I hear about either fighting or losing that fight to The Big C. Everyone knows so many victims,and I know so many have lost loved ones to this crazy disease, my heart goes out to you all. It is always so much sadder when you hear about a loss of someone as special as Jack.
Fond memories though, he will be missed.
The comments on this post prove that a little kindness really can go a long way. We need to learn a lesson from this unsung hero.