An Obituary for My Friend, Tom

On Sept. 5, this community suffered the loss of a long-time resident, benefactor and friend. His name is Tom Hunt.

Tom had been valiantly battling some very serious health challenges for quite a few years. This past year had been especially challenging for him. He fought the fight with tenacity, humor and grace. He never complained of any of the physical difficulties he was beset with. On the rare times he did discuss them with a few friends, it was always with humor or in a matter-of-fact, “business as usual,” “nothing to be concerned about” manner. He wasn’t a complainer; he was a doer. If something had to be done, he did it and did it with a vigor and determination few could match. He never felt sorry for himself, yet he had plenty of compassion and concern for others who were less fortunate than he was.

Tom grew up in rural Lake Odessa, Michigan. His father, Paul Hunt, was a well-known jazz violinist who traveled frequently and played with some of the most well-known big bands, including the Glenn Miller Orchestra, during World War II. Tom was lucky enough to go on the road with his dad when he was old enough. Tom’s mother, Mary, an immigrant from Ireland, was a five-foot-tall human dynamo who had a profound, lifelong influence on Tom. He spent his younger years in a variety of diverse careers ranging from stand-up comedy to master of ceremonies on a river showboat. Ultimately, he settled down as a butcher while at the same time serving on the volunteer fire department in his hometown, which he always referred to as the “Lake Odessa Basement Savers.” After moving his family to California, he later served in senior executive positions with Albertson’s and then with Foster Farms prior to his retirement.

He loved his wife Tina deeply and always said to anyone that would listen that he was blessed to have her. Her charm, her energy, her laughter and her vibrant personality made him feel complete. Anyone who knows Tina will understand and agree with how fortunate he was to have her in his life and for her to have him.

Tom loved his children and grandchildren deeply and was proud of each and every one of them. He spoke of them all frequently, with pride and unbridled affection, and by his own words, he felt blessed to have such a close-knit, caring family. He is survived by his wife Tina, sister Judy, sons John (and Dee), Steve, Scott (and Patty), and daughter Colleen, stepsons Pat and Mike, and his many grandchildren, Rachel, Danielle, Tommy, Sean, Casey, Hunter and Heather, and great-grandchildren, Marley, Mikey and Elsie. Tom’s grandson Kelly and great-granddaughter Delilah both died just a few years ago, which deeply saddened Tom.

Tom was profoundly committed to his Christian faith and lived his life according to those principles. He was very active in his church, Godspeak Calvary Chapel in Newbury Park, which gave him great comfort and a tranquility that many would envy. That sense of comfort saw him through the trials and tribulations of his medical challenges right up to the end. When he and I spoke just a day or two earlier, he said, “Don’t worry about me. I’m not worried. I know if I must go, I’m going to a better place.” Then, in his fake “Tommy Boy” Irish brogue, he said to me, “And if I do go, don’t you be doin’ any tributes to me by pouring a pint o’ Guinness over me grave, after strainin’ it through yer kidneys first!!” That was classic Tom Hunt. He was always ready with a joke, always ready to laugh and had an incredible outlook on life.

He was a good and loyal friend and confidant, and if I had ever had an older brother, I would have been fortunate if he had been just like Tom. A few days before he passed, just before he went back into the ICU, we were speaking, and I said to Tom, “For all the years I’ve known you, it has always been my great privilege to have you as my friend.” Then he said to me, “Not as great a privilege as it has been to have you as my friend,” one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me. Tom had a huge presence of personality, wit and intelligence, and he touched countless lives in a wonderful, lasting way.

There won’t be a day that goes by until the end of my time in this mortal coil without my missing him, and I believe I can speak for all that knew and cared about him that, to a person, they would all echo that very same sentiment.

He deeply believed that he would be going to a better place, free of pain, worry, infirmity and sadness, and full of light, happiness and peace for the rest of time. He was a good man, a good father, a good husband, a good grandfather, a good Christian and, most importantly, an extraordinary human being.

I truly hope he is now exactly where he wanted to be, where he knew he would be. Even these few words are not enough to do him justice. Rest in peace, old friend.

Lloyd