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In Loving Memory Of John "Jack" Ranney Hauthaway Jr.

Jack was born in Quincy, MA. He moved to West Palm Beech in 1975 then settled in Stuart in 1985. He was an accomplished musician who played all over the world, including Boston MA, Cape Cod MA, Palm Beach Fla., Stuart Fla. as well as Japan. He was a graduate of The American Theatre Wing in New York where he learned to hone his acting and stage skills. Throughout his life he utilized those skills to enhance his musical performances.
He was a volunteer for Meals on Wheels, and was an adventurous pilot, he held a Sea Captain's license and gave boat tours of South Fork St. Lucie River under the name Jupiter Otter. Jack lived life to its fullest and encouraged others to so the same.
Survivors include his wife of 32 years, Valerie Hauthaway of Stuart, FL, three sons, Mark Hauthaway of Abington, MA, Carl Hauthaway of Port St Lucie, FL. Malcolm (Linnea) Hauthaway of Exeter, NH, two daughters, Kimberly (Albert) Hill of Port St Lucie, FL. Christine Duerr of Palm City, FL, A sister Ellen (Tom) LaRose of Marlboro, MA, 12 grandchildren and 2 great grandchildren 2 nieces and 2 grand nieces.
In lieu of flowers contributions to The American Cancer Society would be greatly appreciated.
Please sign his online guest book for Jack, at aycockjensenbeach.com
Arrangements entrusted to Aycock Funeral Home, Jensen Beach, Florida.

There was never anyone like you, There will never be anyone like you, You were an original. and you were the best brother.
So many memories. Too many memories to tell.

When we were little.
We sang a duet at some event... I don't remember which one. You played the ukulele. I was about 5 or 6 and was really scared to be on the stage. You said 'just keep looking in my eyes and follow me". We were a hit!

You were the best brother!

In Junior High I had the lead in the school musical. My big brother came back from High School to produce the sound and lighting. I was a hit.
You were the best brother!

In High School Staying up until the crack of dawn writing music with you or when I had to sleep, drifting off to the sounds of your piano. Advice on who I should date. I would either get a" stay clear of him he is an idiot and dangerous or yeah he is okay". I sometimes didn't listen when I thought you must be wrong. I was always sorry. You were always right.

You were the best brother!
As we tried to grow up We both stumbled and fell more than a few times but I always knew you would be there to help me up. I did the same for you and through it all you could make me laugh, but if that didn't work you would cry along with me until one of us would say okay "enough of that crap what should we do next"?

You were the best brother!

When I introduced you to the guy I was to marry. You said "he is a keeper". I listened and you were right.

You were the best brother!

When I had children. Walking along the street across from the Chatham Squire. with the kids you grabbed a balloon and sucked the helium and started to talk like Donald Duck and Mickey Mouse sending my girls into gales of laughter.
Walking along the beach with you and my family I cautioned you to not pick up the youngest because she was wanting to be carried too much. I got a little bit ahead only to look back and see her on your shoulders. I asked you why and you said what is a guy supposed to do when this little face looks up at you and says "Uncle Ranney you have very big shoulders?"

When I had my business. I needed a TV commercial to get the word out. We wrote it together on the phone, you wrote and performed the tag song and you flew up from Florida to produce it. My business flourished.

You were the best brother!

As we grew old and sometimes sick. You were there to talk to, to tell me that I was brave and to encourage me to hang in. Sometimes we would talk for hours. You cheered me on always and I hope that I did the same for you. It can't be possible that you are not a phone call away.
Millions of memories. In all those years not a single fight. Not an unkind word between us, just an abiding love that will be with me forever.

You were the best brother!

Ellen LaRose

May 3, 2013 - Jack died today.

You know the guy. The guy who played that song, the one you danced to when you knew you were meant for each other. At that bar, you know where it was, down by the ocean, at the mountain, by the lake, in the city, that night? Oh that night!

He died last night.

We remember. You remember.

Simple songs, played with simple feelings. Just a piano. No strings, no brass, no symphony except in your own hearts. Just in your own hearts.

A simple song. Everyone knows it. No one knows it like you do. Tony Bennett sang it. Frank Sinatra sang it. Rhyana sang it, but the guy at the piano bar sang it just for you. You remember the guy, he’s gone.

Jack Ranney Hauthaway, piano man. Played with Bobby Hacket. Played with many of the greats. Gathered up local guys. Made a combo. Produced a band. Recorded 8 tracks, casettes, CD’s. Sold them at the gigs. You saw him there at the gig at the old folks home. What was his name? Jack? Captain Jack? Ranney? The piano guy.

His sister tried to find him one night when there was trouble at home. On the phone with every bartender in Boston. Yeah, he just left. Try Lucky’s. No, he just left, try the Royal. Yeah, he’s here! In the middle of the set. Who’s calling? I’ll ask him.

Down at the Squire. Drop in. Good music. Friends, beer, girls, songs. Yeah! He’s here.

On the boat in Florida, you know the one with the sunset cruse & the piano guy. He’s here.

No he’s not. He’s gone.

We miss him.

Tonight, drop an extra dollar in the tip jar at the local piano bar, for Jack, for your own favorite memory. He’s gone. But Buddy’s on piano and Joe’s on bass. Come on down!

Tom LaRose – Brother-In-Law

"He will truly be missed. Mr. Music! Jazzy Jammin' Jack Hauthaway! Jack Hauthaway will be missed may he RIP. Last night our brother left us. Our Thursday night jams were some of the most treasured evenings at Osceola32 because of his playing, his unique wit, and great humor...yes, that was the best entertainment." - Rachel Goldberg and Michael Gordon Penn, Osceola32 Gallery.

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