I remember the first time I met John, or “Johnny B” as most folks referred to him - it was at his daughter, Melody’s wedding rehearsal, where I was best man for my friend Jeff. John was dressed in his best attire - new blue work pants with suspenders, blue suit with a white shirt and a navy colored neck tie. He had difficulty finding shirts with a large enough neck, so instead of the top button holding his shirt collar together, the task was forfeited to the necktie. He and his wife Anne had married a bit later in life, as did both his daughters, so he was 79 years old at the time of Melody’s wedding. Anne told him, with a voice still slightly tainted with a Slovak accent, “Papa, when you walk Melody down the isle, walk straight. Don't walk like an old man.” John looked at her over his glasses and said, “I AM an old man.”