It’s been six weeks since we had John’s memorial. It feels like no time has passed, and it feels like he’s been gone for much longer than seven months.
I’ve been trying to gather my big moments of the year and it keeps jolting me that this is the year that he died.
So strange to think about.
I don’t have a huge amount of grief but more of an acknowledgment or slight sadness. Maybe more than slight sometimes. But it’s quiet. It’s not loud. I do feel like I said my goodbye to him last March when I went to visit as he started his sudden decline.
Either way, the memorial was planned and everyone seemed to be gritting their teeth for it.
We had a fairly significant argument the night before we left. We also saw G in Clue which he was just fantastic in. G had gone to the spreading of ashes as i knew he had to stay home to be in his performance for the weekend. We had a wrap up discussion 30 minutes the morning before we left while the kids went to the store for an errand. They came home in the middle of it so that was fun. I was finishing my packing and it was hard to concentrate knowing I had to remember all the things I needed and listen/respond. But I ended the conversation saying that my main goal was to eek out whatever joy I could and I didn’t want to be distracted. I needed to get through singing and my speech and just be present.
I don’t know if I said it in those words exactly but something like that. Of course we haven’t mentioned anything about it in the next 6 weeks. Ahh, so fun.
The drive was fine. I think I drove the whole way? J offered once we stopped for lunch but I said he drove too slow on the 2-lane highway through Baker. I do enjoy driving those roads and seeing how many cars I can pass! I think I probably went an average of 95 most of the way until we hit outside of town. So satisfying.
We did get to stay in the.. shoot, I’ve completely forgotten what they are called. But they are little teepees but high end. Little houses right on the lake.
Sammie on the dock. Our little one-room house was so comfortable. The couch turned out into a bed for Sammie.
Katie was hanging in their room and we decided to practice. J and Sam went with Justin and Danny over to watch the race. I have absolutely no desire to see the race again, or to hang out watching the awards. Other than my cousin, I don’t care who is driving. It’s cold. It’s windy. It was raining. So I was MORE than happy to go practice.
And honestly, Katie was such a good teacher. I just finished my Christmas card to her and I mentioned it. I need to mention it again and thank her. I know she will appreciate it. But she was a really good teacher. I had been struggling and frustrated with her just saying for me to do the harmony. I can basically sing harmony on Happy Birthday. And that’s because we sing that song 20x a year and I know it be heart. I may have been lightly practicing but I was slightly dreading it.
But we sat on the dock until it started raining and then we went under the overhang while it poured around us. It was peaceful.
I have some HILARIOUS outtakes of us practicing and I really wanted to do a funny video but I just don’t think I have it in me. At least not now.
Anyway, it was impossible for me to sing either melody or harmony because whatever key she would sing, I would immediately try to match her. And then I was doing this weird trilling? Anyway. She explained things really well for me to just match her.
I was happy that we took that time. While I was a little anxious about it, it wasn’t that bad. We did a sound check the next day and while we DID have two microphones, at the ceremony we only had one so it was what it was!
We had a lot of compliments on our singing after it was all over. That was so nice.
I’m sticking my super long video that I took from Todd and just mashed together.
I have the video and rather than listing out all the chapters… ooh, actually I should do that. Nope, I’m too lazy. Katie was at the beginning. She was in a fighting mode – her biological mom showed up – more on that later! But she did well.
I spoke after Dave – who did amazing – and then Mama spoke at the end.
I was happy with my speech. Mom and I compared versions the week before. We both cried when we read each others. I wrote mine and then had AI suggest some bits. It’s kind of amazing that it knows to the minute how long you will be. So handy for getting under 5 minutes!
I had memorized mine enough that I was able to look up now and again. I’ve watched myself ONCE on the video – and that was hard to do – but I was happy with how I sounded. I actually got a few laughs too. Very impressive for a non-funny person!
The honor guard was SO emotional. The video actually gets it really well. That part definitely made me tear up.
The amount of people there was crazy. I knew 250 had RSVP’d but we had assumed a lot of people wouldn’t come because of the storm. And we had to shove everyone into this hanger… which turned out really well. Thank goodness for Dave’s team of people at the track who organized it all. I did… nothing. But this was for the track people.
There had to be 50 people sitting down in the chairs, and another 100+ standing? I mean, probably 150?
I really had no idea who most of them were. But I was so good and walked around smiling at people because they certainly knew who I was. Many came up to me. J and Sam headed back to the room to lie down while I finished helping clean up. Not that there was much to clean up? But I tried.
Ahh, but Linda. Oh Linda.
Katie’s bio-mom just showed up. Katie got really upset. She did not want to talk to her, especially before her speech and everything else. She asked me and Mom to go tell Linda.
So I walked over to her with Mom. Mom, being Mom, was not gonna say anything. That is not her skill. It is however, maybe not my skill, but if I’m defending other people, I have no problems speaking up. I did get a little elevated heart rate though! I basically said that Katie didn’t want to speak with her, and for her to not go up and talk to her. She gave me this disgusting up-and-down look at my body and said “I was looking svelte”. She said a few other things and then proceeded to talk the ears off my Mom’s two best friends who were sitting in the front row (and who L knew back in the day when she was married to John, and my Mom was married to my Dad and they lived in the same town). I think they just didn’t know how to ignore her, they were too nice. I went up to Doug and explained the issue and asked Doug to make sure that L did not sit in the front row. Doug went right up to her and told her off. She later sat in the 4th row. I can see her stupid ponytail in the video.
Katie had a lot of protecters around her, so that was good. Once the event ended, everyone was swarming Katie up in the front. I did mingle a bit but I noticed that L was circling Katie and obviously looking to storm up to her. Danny had a temper tantrum and Justin had taken him back to the room 20m into it, and L really wanted to get her hands on him, and otherwise just make a scene. But she couldn’t do that since Justin had taken him! (Smart guy!) I went up to who Katie was talking with and stood there, just to support her. At that point, one of the guys at the track (Mike – so SWEET) who was built like a bouncer, and was bumping into me, and edging me over, and then stood to my side, I was really confused… and he said, “I’m an awkward turtle!” (and then I realized he was literally blocking L’s view of Katie). It made me laugh SO hard because I was so confused. I think Katie was talking to John L. and Linda swirled around the crowd to try and catch her eye, so I swung Katie around so she didn’t have to face her. They were talking and didn’t even bat an eye. We were all just trying to hover and let Katie enjoy herself without being harassed.
So L finally stormed up to us, and I stepped around Katie to FIRMLY tell L off. I don’t even remember what I told her but it was something like “You are NOT going to speak to her, you are NOT going to talk to her, this is INAPPROPRIATE and you NEED TO LEAVE”. I’m fairly sure I raised my voice and maybe even pointed my finger. Or at least glared. I definitey glared. I think I even said HOW DARE YOU, what is WRONG with you.
And she was yelling back at me. Mike was behind me and telling her off too. And then Katie turned around and said, WHAT Mother? And then after ALL that, L said “WHAT IS WRONG with you? I am DYING – I am getting cancer treatment in TWO DAYS” and Katie was really good, she said something like “The door is always open through my therapist and you have declined.”
Also, as a reminder, the women has had terminal cancer for like 10 years. So… not the end of the world here.
Mike got her away and then Katie calmed down. A few of her friends came up. Katie was super grateful for me protecting her and I just had to laugh. I am great at telling people off when it doesn’t matter to me. You point me to someone and say you want something said? Cool, I’m your girl.
Anyway, after 10 minutes L was wandering around in the back and I was standing around talking with Katie and she said, you know what, I don’t want to wait for her to do something else. I’m done speaking, this is over, let’s go up to her. But Katie wanted me with her. So we saw L writing in the memorial notebook, so we marched up to her and our arms were locked together. We politely waited about 30 seconds for her to stop writing and acknowledge us, and she didn’t, so I finally said, “Linda, here is Katie. Say what you need to say” or something like that. I thought I was really mean about it but Katie said I was super nice.
And L looked up, swung her ponytail around and said, “I have NOTHING to say to her” and then walked out and left.
hahahaha
She stalked Katie allll afternoon long and now that there was no audience, she bounced.
Anyway, I went back to our little house and got Sam and J and we went to the dinner.
They had John’s helmet and jacket sitting in the middle. The tables spelled out his car number.
I really didn’t take any photos, luckily the sweet photographer was going around and i nagged them out a few weeks later.
Both mornings we got a walk in, both times with my Mama. Sam joined us for the last 10 minutes on one day. The sunrise was gorgeous.
We went home the next morning. Easy drive.
And that was that. Craziness.
My speech:
Hi there,
It’s so meaningful to see everyone out here today. Thank you so much for coming to celebrate Johnny. That’s what I always called him — Johnny.
I’ve known him all my life. He officially joined the family when he married my mom, Jerra, when I was five. Apparently, I burst into tears when I found out I wasn’t allowed to go to the wedding. My dreams of being a flower girl were crushed.
But I’m sure John joked me out of my melancholy with his big grin — his dimples flashing, his bright blue eyes all lit up.
I wanted to share a few family stories. Stories that show not just the fun we had, but the kind of person he was.
We all knew John had the best ideas for fun. And he always went the extra mile if it meant:
a) he got to go fast,
b) he got to buy fun toys, and
c) he kept us all happy.
His need for speed started early. Much earlier than me, I’m sure — but I do remember him driving us three kids to his parents’ house on a two-lane road and I looked up from reading my book and saw the speedometer at 110 miles an hour. I started yelling that I was telling Mom! He just laughed.
He loved flying — obviously. That man never complained about flying me from San Diego to Burbank to drop me off at my dad’s for the weekend. Time in the plane? Done! In fact, he was convinced — or maybe convinced by my mom — to fly my wedding dress in the helicopter from California to Colorado so it wouldn’t get wrinkled. Honestly, I think that might’ve been his idea. Any excuse to fly the helicopter!
In our younger years, John was often on the road building J. Williams, but he always called to check in — usually about food! He had a serious sweet tooth, and we made sure he kept his Red Vines and Skittles stocked.
Even though he was gone a lot in those early years, he was teaching us incredible lessons about resilience and focus.
Another great family memory was our big trip to Disney World. We did a Cruise and then stayed at one of the Disney properties afterward. Do I remember anything about the theme park? Nope. What I remember is us kids running wild on these motorized boats in one of the lakes, having the time of our lives. I was terrified we’d get in so much trouble — those boats looked expensive, and we were going non-stop. But now, looking back as a parent myself, I realize he was probably thrilled we were off playing so he and Mom could enjoy a few minutes of peace.
During his final week, the steady stream of love from his friends reminded us just how many lives he touched. Friends stopping by, calls pouring in — each one was so lovely to hear. My sister insisted I listen to a message from Ari Strauss. Dave came over to hold the phone up near John so we could all hear it again.
Ari’s words perfectly captured the essence of John: he called him a “joy maker,” someone responsible for creating special memories for so many people.
JOY MAKER.
Yes, he was. Over the top — most of the time!
How about sending a singing banana for a birthday telegram?
Hiring a helicopter to take me and my friends up and down the Las Vegas Strip for one of my teenage birthdays?
Jumping in the motorhome to take me and my friends up and down the Rose Parade route on New Year’s Eve so we could meet cute boys?
Throwing Mom a surprise party on her 43rd birthday — for no reason anyone could figure out? (Her friends were terrified she had some mysterious illness, but John just thought it would be fun.)
He loved surprising and delighting people.
John was also a connector. He understood people. He could look right into your heart and somehow know your personality — where you fit, who you might get along with, and how to bring you into his orbit.
He was an amazing matchmaker — sometimes it worked, sometimes not so much. I remember being a freshman in high school, hearing the house phone ring, and walking into the bedroom to find John talking to my high school crush — who’d called about our French homework. I’m waving frantically, mouthing “stop talking!” But no — John offered him a job. I was horrified… and thrilled.
He was also deeply empathetic. That same boy later borrowed John’s RX7 for prom and wrapped it around a lamp post going 60+ mph around a curve. The first words out of John’s mouth were, “Are you okay?” (They were!) but I never once saw him mad about that car.
And while John’s wild stories and joy-making energy are what everyone remembers, I want to share a little about what I learned from him.
He was the master of the pivot. When things weren’t looking good, he switched perspectives and moved in another direction. He made plenty of mistakes, but he learned from them faster than anyone I know.
John lived and breathed business. He vibrated with energy — always chasing the next big idea. Every one of our dinner table conversations turned into a business meeting — and I loved it.
He taught me that business — and life — aren’t about playing it safe. They’re about staying curious, finding solutions, and never being afraid to start over. His version of success took grit, humor, and that stubborn optimism that said, “Okay, that didn’t work — what’s next?”
I’m so grateful that my children, Samantha and Griffin — John’s grandchildren — got to know him. Time with Grandpa John was always an adventure.
It wasn’t pool time unless he blew up at least ten floats so the kids could play leapfrog across the water. Or he’d drag us all out to the track for fireworks “just because it would be fun.” That was John — always adding a little extra joy, a little extra sparkle.
And sweet Danny, Katie’s son — he takes after John so much with his love for speed. It’s in the genes, clearly.
Because that was John.
A joy maker. A big dreamer. A fast driver. A fearless pilot. A soft heart behind a quick grin.
He taught us to live fully, love fiercely, and always — always find the fun.
Here’s to John — the ultimate joy maker. Thank you for filling our lives with so much love, laughter, and adventure.
Mom’s speech – pasting it here so I can skim in a year or two. She did changes but this was the version a week before she said it. I loved how she thanked Brad. He totally started sobbing when she did that.
A Tribute to John – “Watch This”
(10-Minute Version)
Good afternoon, everyone.?(pause)?Thank you all for being here today.?It means so much to our family to see so many of you gathered to honor John — a man who lived boldly, dreamed big, and never did anything halfway.
(soft smile)?If John had a motto, it might have been two words: “Watch this.”?Those words summed him up perfectly — daring, confident, and just a little mischievous.?
Whether he was trying something new, building something big, or taking a risk that made the rest of us nervous, John lived every moment with that same spark of excitement that said, “watch this.”
John was my business partner, my co-adventurer, and for many years, my husband.?
But more than that, he was my friend.?
Our lives were filled with projects, passion, and purpose.?
The titles may have changed over the years, but the connection — and the respect — never did.
You could feel John’s energy the moment you met him.?
You never had to wonder where you stood with him — John was honest, direct, and completely authentic.?What you saw was exactly who he was, every single time.?
He was a force.?Whether pitching a new idea, racing a car, or flying a helicopter — he did everything with vision, intensity, and that unmistakable twinkle in his eye.
Together, we built J. Williams Enterprises and later Advanced Access — companies that began around our kitchen table.?
The kids were part of it too — working, learning, laughing through good times and bad, and watching firsthand what it meant to build something from nothing.
When it came time to start a racetrack, we knew we needed partners who shared John’s drive and vision.?
No one was better suited than my beautiful sister Wendy and my brother-in-law Brad Rambo — two successful business builders who helped transform John’s bold idea into reality.?
Together, we formed a partnership built on trust, perseverance, and family — twenty-one years strong.
And speaking of partners, I want to take a moment to thank Brad.?He stepped up in every way after John’s passing — with strength, integrity, and heart.?
The team of leaders John assembled are second to none, and they continue to honor his vision every day.?
Knowing that Spring Mountain’s future is in such capable hands brings us great peace.
As John immersed himself in the motorsports world, he found more than just a new business — he found a community.?
Some of his closest friendships were forged here — with people who were smart, talented, and believed in the dream as much as he did.?
Along with Brad and Wendy, those friendships became the backbone of his success and the heart of everything that followed.
John didn’t just teach people business; he showed them — by example — what belief and determination could create.
(gentle tone)?
But life wasn’t only about the wins.?In 2001, just before his 21st birthday, John’s beloved son Danny passed away — a heartbreak that changed everything.?
From that unimaginable loss came a new resolve — to live with urgency, adventure, and meaning.?That moment redefined him.?And in typical John fashion, he turned tragedy into purpose.
That spirit led him straight into his next great chapter: motorsports.?
When he first looked out over 193 acres of desert in Pahrump, he saw more than a small driving school with porta-potties and pop-up buildings — he saw potential.?He saw a world-class racetrack, a community, and a dream waiting to be built.?
And then… “Watch this.” He went out and built it.
Today, that vision stands before us — Spring Mountain Motor Resort & Country Club —?930 acres, nine miles of track, and a living, breathing legacy to his imagination and drive.
Beyond all his accomplishments, John took great pride in his family.?Katie and Kristi meant the world to him; he was incredibly proud of the strong, capable women they’ve become.?
And his grandkids — Samantha, Griffin, and Danny — brought him a kind of joy that always managed to break through that tough, all-business exterior.
Being a dad wasn’t always easy for John, but he brought his trademark energy, humor, and larger-than-life personality to it just the same.?
His fathering methods were a bit… unconventional.
For example: if you were a young man entering our orbit — maybe a co-worker, friend, or heaven forbid, a boyfriend — you were in for a test.?John would size him up, see if he was in shape,and proceed to challenge him to push-ups, handstands, or even a backflip contest.?
It was his own version of a background check — always full of laughter and a bit of showmanship.
And then there’s the story that will go down in family history.?One afternoon in Temecula, John woke up from a nap just as the ice-cream truck came jingling down the street.?
The kids and I ran outside — and here comes John, still half-asleep, running out the door… in his underwear.?(smile, let laughter settle)?
We whispered, “John! You don’t have any pants on!”?
But he just waved us off and said, “I want to pick out my own ice cream.”
That was John — totally focused, hilariously confident, and utterly himself.?
He lived exactly as he loved — unapologetically, wholeheartedly, and in the moment.
(soft tone)?
So today, as we celebrate him, I stand here with deep gratitude — for the dreams we built, the risks we took, the heartbreaks we survived, and the love we shared.
There’s truly been no one who’s had a greater influence on my life than John.?
The way he dreamed, built, and believed in what was possible changed the course of my life forever.
John was larger than life — bold, brilliant, sometimes maddening,?but always passionate and unforgettable.
His race may be finished,?but his story keeps running strong — in every dream he built, every risk he took, and every laugh he left behind.
And if there’s one thing John taught us, it’s this:?always chase the ice-cream truck — even if you’re not totally dressed for it.
(soft smile)?
So wherever he is now, I’m sure he’s still grinning, turning back one last time to say,
?“Don’t worry about me… Watch this.” ???
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