Br. John Joseph Jack Snyder, OP

John Joseph Snyder was born August 6, 1928, in Highland Park, California, the fourth child of Dean and Marie Doolan Snyder.  He attended primary school at St. Dominic's in Eagle Rock until the fourth grade, then transferred to Holy Family in Glendale.  There were 24 boys in Jack Snyder's 8th grade graduating class, four of whom became priests and Jack himself a Brother.  This remarkable percentage gives us an indication that a strong influence of some sort existed in Br. Jack's early formation, guiding him later in his response to a religious vocation.  Jack attended Loyola High School in Los Angeles for 18 months, then graduated from Eagle Rock High School in 1947.  He followed his brother Eldie into Glendale College, "reluctantly," for he had no big yearning for books.  Eventually he worked with his brother Dean as a salesman for one of the earliest photocopy services in Southern California.  In 1950, he entered the Army and specialized in communications, spending most of his two year duty in Japan.  After that, he returned to Los Angeles and spent the next 18 years in sales work of one kind of another, while he continued to look after his parents.

After his parents' deaths, Jack found his life without a focus, and he devoted himself to children and animals, both of whom he loved and with both of whom he was comfortable and loved in return.  In 1969, he accompanied his brother and nephew to Lourdes, seeking a cure for his nephew's spinal problems, and on the return trip, Jack expressed disappointment that no miracle had occurred.  He was entering a new stage in his interior search for the real meaning of faith and prayer.  Next began Jack's period of interior growth, though he was much at odds with his life.  He passed his time doing casual gardening for his family and neighbors, until in 1970, a lady at St. Dominic's in Eagle Rock asked him if he had thought about entering religious life.  Within three months, Jack had investigated and decided to apply to the Dominicans, and threw a big party on his acceptance, giving away everything he owned.

In  August of  1970, he received the habit as Brother John Snyder, at 42 the oldest of the 20 novices who entered that year.  He immediately formed a strong bond of affection with the youngest member of our class.  Brother Justin.   The two of them did more than anyone else to keep alive a spirit of childlike play within our fraternity.

Brother Jack was happiest when working in the lawns and gardens around St. Albert's, yet he always found time to stop and talk to the school-children as they passed through our grounds.  He developed a particular liking for the roses that would decorate the chapel and the Sisters' convent.   He had a strong devotion to St. Theresa, the Little Flower, and for Jack, yellow roses were always her symbol.

His concern for animals remained as strong as ever.  On several occasions, he would sneak a young and frightened kitten into the basement laundry, where it could spend the night in warmth and security—though this practice brought him into conflict with the policies regarding the cleanliness and sanctity of the workplace.  He grudgingly accepted the obligation to spend time in the classroom during our Novitiate year, but found a kindred spirit in the late Fr. John Sullivan.  Together they kept each other sane in what they perceived as a world where common sense and simple spirituality were often absent.  More than once I heard him draw unmistakable parallels between pompous piety in the chapel and that aromatic substance he spread around the roses in the garden!

Jack was eventually assigned to St. Raymond's Retreat House in Thousand Oaks, and, surrounded by animals and children, he was in his optimum environment.  His dog, Oly, named for Jack's favorite beer, was his constant companion.  He never lost his devotion to St. Jude, and organized a plan to get a Jewish artist to create a statue for the retreat house.  It took time, but eventually the work was completed.  Many people came to visit him, for Jack's spirituality was a very private one, and became evident only to those to whom he felt very close.  Most of us never saw that facet of Jack's personality.   He fostered instead an image of carefree pragmatism.  Yet within his family, he exerted a powerful influence on their faith.  He would often tell the children, "Never give up.  Always pray.  Always have hope."

In his last illness, Lou Gehrig's Disease, he never lost sight of his devotion to St. Theresa.  Although he suffered much, he confided that whenever he saw a yellow rose, he knew she was near, looking over him.  Shortly before he died, he asked, "Do you smell the  roses?  I think she's coming to get me!"

When he died, Jack possessed nothing but his habit.  He had lived the vow of poverty  like few before him.   The loving response of children and animals were his treasure.  The admiration and respect of his family were his base of power, and his devotion to St. Jude and St. Theresa were his source of hope.  And now I wish my classmate and brother: Peace.  Peace and freedom.  The freedom of the universe is now yours, Jack.  The freedom to move about unfettered, and to seek love where it may be found.  Pray for us.

--Brother James Kevin, O.P.

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