Jack Adrian Pitzer

In Loving Memory of Jack Adrian Pitzer

A Life of Faith, Love and Enduring Grace

Jack Adrian Pitzer, age 93, entered the presence of the Lord on May 25, 2026, and he now stands in glory with our Lord and Savior. He was a beloved husband, father, grandfather, great-grandfather and friend.

Born July 15,1932, in East Run, WV to Delbert and Inez Pitzer. Jack grew up in Farmington, WV and graduated from Farmington High School in 1950. He married his high school sweetheart, Mary Green, in 1952 and they began an adventure in the Air Force. They traveled some with the Air Force and eventually settled in Alexandria, VA where they raised 5 children, Debra, Mike, Scott, Brenda and Cindy.

Dad loved people and enjoyed talking and sharing the Lord with anyone he met. Throughout his life he was always involved in the church, singing in the choir, serving as a board member and tackling any behind the scenes project or special need. He loved the outdoors, whether it be hunting for the big buck or fishing for the large catch. His big Blue Marlin that is currently hanging on the wall is testament to his love of the sea. Grilling was another favorite, but you had to watch dad if a Redskin game was on because he would be running in and out of the house to watch the game and whatever was on the grill would quickly become inedible.

Dad worked for Sears, Roebuck and Company for 35 years in the Kitchen department where he would hand draw customized kitchens to spec for customers – this was way before computers programs were developed to do the same. He gave to his children unselfishly, providing us with a safe and loving home. Dad could make or fix anything, from cars to cabinets, roofs and patios, plumbing and electrical, he did it all. I remember watching my dad many nights working on the engine of his car or one of the kids’ cars, a broken dishwasher, a jammed garbage disposal or a broken clothes washer and that was after a full day of work. He always did what needed to be done.

To say he will be missed is an understatement. He leaves behind a legacy of love and wonderful memories. He was cherished by his wife of 72 years, Mary, who predeceased him in December 2025. His children and their spouses, Debra Pitzer (deceased), Michael and Linda Pitzer, Scott and Peggy Pitzer, Brenda and Jeffrey Core, Cindy and Carl Smith. Grandchildren and their spouses, Michael Pitzer Jr. and Jennifer Shrout, Michele and Lee Windsor, Sean and Alyson Sims, Melissa and Casey Flerlage, Abigail and Nathaniel Hills, Allie and Kyle Hough. Great-grandchildren Mason Pitzer, Ryder Pitzer, Mariah Windsor, Kaylee Windsor, Zoey Windsor, Oliver Hills, Owen Hough, Wyatt Hough, Bella Sims and Oaklynn Sims.

A memorial service will be held to honor his memory as we will gather to share stories, celebrate his life and say our final goodbyes (for now). Though dad is gone from our sight, we will see him again in heaven. “For God so loved the world that He gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” – John 3:16

The family will receive friends 10-11 a.m. Monday, June 1, 2026 at Hillsboro Memorial Funeral Home, 2323 West Brandon Boulevard, Brandon, Florida. Interment to follow at 11 a.m. in Hillsboro Memorial Gardens, 2323 West Brandon Boulevard, Brandon, Florida.

“See you later” by ullie-kaye

I have learned a few things about grief.

It is not a temporary feeling but rather

an eternal one with many changing seasons.

Grief hurts in places that are hard to point

to because the pain in your heart overflows

into every other crevice that exists inside

of your body. Sometimes grief longs to be

held and pushes you away at the same time.

It runs for both freedom and shelter.

It wants to heal but without letting go.

Grief lands upon your chest whenever,

however, and wherever it chooses. It is not

bound by space or time or distance and I can

guarantee you that it will always find a way

to come to the surface. Grief lays its weary

head down and waits for rain, for sun,

for wild winds, for peace – oh precious,

precious peace. Grief reminds us that death

is not a goodbye, but the longest and hardest

“see you later”.