Jack was a great coach.  I enjoyed playing for him.  The Mustangs had a lot of fun people to play with.  We had some great times.  Prayers for his family and friends.

I was nine years old in 1956 when Jack Holt fell in love with my Aunt Joanne. Theirs is my very favorite love story. 
Jack’s habit was to stop at the Corral, a Pasadena drive-in, on his way home from classes at the University of Houston. It was a meeting place for him and his buddies, and when Jack pulled in, a friend told him excitedly, “Wait ‘til you see the new carhop…” 
The new carhop was Joanne; a vivacious teenager with a big-red-lipstick smile, who, still pretty new in town, had more Mississippi southern charm than Texas swagger. She was beautiful and whatever a 1950s carhop uniform looked like, you can bet she looked great in it. 
The moment he laid eyes on her, Jack was smitten. 
“I was a nerd,” he said, to explain how hopeless it was to fall in love with her, but the Corral was his hangout and they became friends. Jack claims his rescue one night of my mother, LaRue, Joanne’s sister, won Joanne over.
“Your mom had car trouble and Joanne asked me if I could help her, and I did,” he explained. His foot was in the family door, and the rest is history. 
I was also a Jack rescue. Until I moved to Florida at 18, Jack was a constant presence in my life. The hours I spent with Jack and Joanne during those years were a blessing to both me and my mother, who was divorced and struggling to support and raise her children alone in 1950s/60s Texas. He was a phone call away; we’ve laughed over the years about the number of miles he put on his car picking me up from home, school or work, then taking me back. He was not quite a father figure, but often gave good advice: like be careful with boys and be nicer to my mother. He was a friend and confidant and a much-needed example of a good man, a kind man, a responsible man, a happy man with a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his face who loved life and his family, which included me.
I feel sadness at the loss and gratitude and joy that I knew him!
Love and condolences to everyone who loves and will miss Jack.
I will too.

Mr. Holt was a coach who had the players best interests in mind; even though we may not have known it at the time. As a player, I wanted to win, wanted to play, and wanted to have fun.  He made it all possible with his character, knowledge, and dedication to the sport. Numerous volunteer hours went in to coaching and showing up to mold us in to the players we became.  It was a wonderful time and experience in Pasadena. Donna, your father was a good man, living a long and meaningful life. I'm sorry for your loss, but ever so glad our paths crossed back in the 70's on the softball fields in Pasadena, Texas.

To Mr Jack,
Thanks for all the wonderful years we spent together in the breakfast club. So many terrific friends have passed away Peter, Art, and now you. I miss each and every one of you in a big way. Tom and I consider ourselves fortunate to see you before you passed. We will always have much love in our hearts for you. May you rest in peace.
Stan the Man Levin

AVIS DE DÉCÈS

Jack Allen Holt

12 février 1934 – 18 août 2025

Pasadena Funeral Home

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