John Murphy Phelan Jr.

He attended Episcopal Academy ’94 and Villanova University ’98. He was a member of the Beta Iota chapter of Lambda Chi Alpha. He tried his hand in law before discovering his passion for investments and the stock market. John was a financial advisor for such prestigious companies as Morgan Stanley and Merrill Lynch. Following the job market, John went to Edward Jones and moved his family from Chatham, NJ to Leawood, KS in 2006.

John enjoyed skiing trips, where his adventurous spirit had “no breaking allowed” as he proceeded straight downhill at top speed. He also enjoyed being around water - from being on the water polo team in high school, to surfing and guarding at the Jersey shore, snorkeling, and fishing any chance he had with his 2 daughters and friends. He was also known to “take a swing” at golf and could be found frequently at the range. He loved a good Texas Hold’em and was very competitive. Though John strongly supported the KC Chiefs, he always had allegiance to his Eagles and Villanova basketball, and it was not uncommon to hear him shouting at the TV in cheer or opposition of a bad call. John also enjoyed traveling and spending time with family and friends. He was typically the life of the party, making people laugh with his jokes and good humor. He had a tremendously big heart and beautiful soul, which showed in his infectious smile.

John was preceded in death by his father.

John is survived by his daughters, Mary Kate and Faith and their mother, Heather; his mother, Joan; his sister, D’Arcy Glanzmann (Chris), his brother, Sean (Laura) and his two nephews, Christopher and Aidan Glanzmann and two nieces, Keeley and Lexi Glanzmann. He will be greatly missed by his many Phelan and D’Arcy relatives.

A special thank you to the staff at Jupiter Medical Center who kept John comfortable and to Nelida Kehle, who was by his side.

John will be cremated and will be interred at a private ceremony at a future date.

“For you are beautiful, we have loved you dearly

More dearly than the spoken word can tell.”

Roger Whittaker

EULOGY FOR JOHN M. PHELAN, JR.

Almost all of my memories of my older brother John involve the two of us fighting or competing with one another. In retrospect, it’s probably why I’m such a pain in the butt and a terrible loser. Truly, my brother John often drove me nuts! In fact, in one of our first interactions together, when I was just a baby, I knocked out one of his front teeth with my milk bottle. Another time, he locked me out of the house after beating me and making me cry in a driveway basketball game. So I decided to take out the glass window to the front door with the business end of a broomstick. Heck of a way to start an obituary about brotherhood, right?!

This being said, nevertheless, my brother was an extremely lovable and fun-loving guy. He was so generous and would spare no expense when it came to making sure those around him were having an enjoyable time. As case in point, he planned an incredible, all-expense-paid trip for my dad, cousin and I to go to Notre Dame which wound up being the last time the Fighting Irish football team were ranked number one in the country. I think my charming brother actually socialized with at least half of South Bend that night. Another time he and his wonderful wife, Heather, had me out to Kansas City and we went to a Chiefs game where the crowd set the decibel record for an outdoor sporting event. It was so loud that day the NOISE even broke my cell phone! These sorts of amazing things always somehow happened when you were in John’s company. He was touched with a gift to entertain and, to his credit, was pretty much the polar opposite of yours truly – and always tried to draw me out of my shell.

John had such an endearing smile and laugh. He loved to laugh and was infectious in doing so. He could also talk and hold court until the Leawood cows came home. He was a quintessential salesman at heart and took great pride in his success as a financial analyst, which was a natural vocational fit for him. John had some demons, as we all do to varying extents at different points in our lives. He was equal parts prideful and private, as gregarious as he was, and did not want to be a burden to his family with his health issues. Regrettably, not letting on how much he needed our help.

Though he has passed well before his time, he leaves behind two amazingly beautiful, gifted and intelligent daughters, Mary Kate and Faith, who loved him very much, as well as an immediate family who also cherished him for all of his, and our, faults. The passing of a person and personality like John makes the survivors wish they could spend just one more night with him – to at least try to enjoy life to the extent he did and learn from the master. Not realizing how short and precious the time we get to spend with those we love is.

Alas, to learn to laugh like John (and ultimately put down the business end of the dispositional broomstick), realizing that the playful taunts were only meant to sharpen your inner resolve, is a lesson which sometimes comes too late. John joins his beloved father and namesake up in heaven. Most likely leaving Saint Peter eternally grateful there’s not a third John Murphy Phelan shillelaghing toward his gates anytime soon!

My brother, whether he actually intended to or not, taught me a great many things. He taught me how important it is to see the good in people – and fragile, loveable John had so much good – instead of focusing on their shortcomings. He likewise taught me that while fighting can sometimes be instrumental in encouraging us to reach our true potential, we should never take it personally. Life’s truly too short and every one of us is going through battles in our private lives! We all just want to be loved, if not understood. And despite leaving him with a sort of messed up front tooth for most of his adult life and being a perennially shoulder-chipped younger brother, John even chose me as the best man at his wedding and godfather of his youngest daughter, Faith – two honors of a lifetime.

He also successfully once “inspired” me into swimming in the frigid Irish Sea on a Phelan/Glanzmann family trip to the Emerald Isle, on a “Kil-dare” of sorts, holding a pint of Guinness and a towel for me on the beach afterwards - characteristically disclosing that behind every one of his seemingly malicious taunts, he had SO MUCH LOVE AND GENEROSITY behind it. I think the two of us even shared the same favorite song, “God Only Knows” by the Beach Boys1 – thanks to our old man playing it on cassette on early car trips to our beloved Avalon – the place where John became the Adonis lifeguard in his late teens, even after once having to share a room with his annoying kid brother.

I love my brother John and thankfully got to tell him that one last time before he passed - to at least somewhat make up for the years we pridefully fought and for the sometimes vicious, “brother stuff” arguments we had during our all too short life together. This has been an extremely tough year for our family and for humanity, in general. But John’s life is a lesson in seeing the good and not the faults. It’s an all too often vicious world, but I’ll never forget how broadly he smiled holding that lukewarm Guinness and incredibly warm towel for me. Rest in peace, my gregarious, handsome and FUN brother. You will be dearly missed.

1 “Sloop John B” was a close, and probably more existentially appropriate, second.