John William Laws

Jack was born on March 23rd , 1950 in Quincy, a small city on the western-most point of Illinois seated on bluffs overlooking the Mississippi. Surrounded by fields of corn and soy, old elegant buildings and genteel mansions speak softly of Quincy’s prosperous past. 

Jack was the second child in a family of six sons and one daughter.

Anyone who saw Jack’s perfect cursive handwriting could see the marks of a Catholic school education. He remained fiercely loyal to his Christian Brothers/Notre Dame High School, returning for every reunion and maintaining close friendships with his schoolmates.

Being the second of seven children, Jack started working early and hard for his pocket money. As a teenager, he started caddying at the Quincy Country Club. Along with good grades and financial need, Jack’s caddy experience enabled him to qualify for an award with the Evans Scholars Foundation. Though the Foundation provided him a full-ride undergraduate scholarship at the University of Illinois, what he valued the most from Evans Scholars were the lasting friendships he maintained through the years with the other Scholars in his college class. They call their community a “brotherhood”, and for Jack, each individual in his Scholar class was indeed truly a brother.

Visiting the campus prior to making his college decision, U of I was undergoing a period of major construction; in particular the Assembly Hall, a building that at the time was an example of cutting-edge architectural and structural design. Instead of majoring in math, Jack was inspired to pursue studies in Civil Engineering.

After graduation, Jack remained at University of Illinois for his Master’s in Civil Engineering. The winter before he finished his Master’s, and in her final undergraduate year at U of I, Jack married the girl he took to the prom at Christian Brothers, Julie Vonderhaar.

When Julie was accepted to the graduate program in anthropology at the University of California, Berkeley, Jack took a position at Chevron Oil in San Francisco. Designing oil platforms and the occasional refinery outbuilding did not keep Jack’s interest for long, and eventually he left Chevron for the San Francisco office of Skidmore, Owings and Merrill. Here he was able to realize his dreams to participate in the design of major commercial buildings and civil projects, working closely with architects and engineers across multiple disciplines. Jack thrived, eventually joining up with other SOM colleagues to start their own firm, Structural Design Engineers which later merged with DCI Engineers.

Meanwhile, Julie’s academic career continued to develop. A primate anthropologist working on her doctoral dissertation, she won a grant to study langur monkeys at a wildlife sanctuary in the foothills of the Himalayas. A year-long trip to Northern India was a prospect too intriguing for Jack to pass up. So Jack took a leave of absence from SOM and acted as Julie’s research assistant, folding up his long legs to quietly observe and record the activities of monkeys in a forest 200 km north of New Delhi. This trip initiated Jack’s lifelong fascination with the cultures of the Indian subcontinent.

A few short years after their return from India, Julie passed away from a months-long illness. She wasn’t even 30. With help from colleagues of Julie’s, Jack eventually published the data from their India research in the International Journal of Primatology.

When Rhonda joined SOM after graduating from Cal, she heard stories of this Jack Laws guy who was on a leave of absence in India. Jack did return to the office after his travels, but Rhonda didn’t get to know him very well before she left SOM. One weekend morning a year or two later, Rhonda was considering breakfast by herself at the Homemade Cafe, a popular brunch spot at that time. The wait list for a table was long. But Jack, dining alone, was already seated at a table set for two. He saw Rhonda waiting and offered his empty seat. The rest, as they say, is history.

Wandering around the Bay Area with Jack was always a bit of show-and-tell. It seemed that almost anywhere you would go with him, there was an old project of Jack’s nearby. He liked to look in on those old projects, so if there wasn’t a detour to see how it was holding up, he might tell a quick story about the project. After a forty-five year career in the San Francisco Bay Area, he could talk about, or point to, a lot of projects. All his projects were his babies. He poured a little bit of himself into each one, and never forgot any. Though he could point at grand projects like San Francisco’s Davies Symphony Hall, the Moscone West convention center, or Portland’s US Bankcorp building, Jack would say that preservation of historic buildings and construction of affordable housing were his proudest achievements.

Though he was an engineer, Jack was not into technology. However he could become almost obsessed by data. It’s probably a golfer thing, but Jack would religiously check his weather app, whether to check the conditions wherever he was playing next, or to check the weather at places or around people he loved. During California’s fire season, he would check air quality multiple times a day. 

He appreciated the convenience of a GPS system but almost as often as not, Jack would ignore the directions he was being given, insisting that his route was better. Sometimes he was right.

He liked his Fitbit. Besides counting steps, distance walked, flights climbed and calories expended, Jack was fascinated by the Fitbit’s sleep monitoring feature. Most mornings would
include a lively discussion about why he disagreed with the Fitbit about its analysis of the quality of his sleep.

Jack cheerfully embodied the Midwestern ideal of humility and hard work. He loved people. He was not one of those engineers that could be happy shut up in a room with his calculations.
Jack craved being around people. He was thrilled to join Berkeley Country Club. Not only did it provide him a place close to home where he could play a challenging round of golf, the Club gave him a new community to be part of. Jack never forgot a face. He and Rhonda might be out for a meal or in the shops running errands and he’d step up to someone with a familiar face: “Are you a member?”

During a lull in his and Rhonda’s conversations while out and about, Jack would listen in on other people’s conversations nearby and chime in on whatever they were discussing: “I couldn’t
help overhearing ….”

Maybe butting into someone else’s conversation or recognizing someone minding their own business is a little off-putting, but Jack had an openness to him, and a genuine interest in others. His engaging smile enabled strangers to accept his greeting or his commentary. Maybe they sensed a little goofiness in his manner that allowed them to let their guard down.

When Jack moved to the Bay Area he embraced the Oakland A’s and the Golden State Warriors. At various times he had season tickets to both teams. Jack and his ticket mate suffered through many dreary seasons of Warriors teams as well as being exhausted from night after night of playoff games during championship years. Basketball was something Jack loved to share with his favorite basketball scholar and yogi, his and Rhonda’s son Ryan.

Jack would agree that Ryan was the best part of the last 30 years. Jack would never miss Ryan’s high school basketball game, volleyball game, or the bridal shows where Ryan would model formal wear. Jack and Rhonda would frequently comment to each other how fortunate they were that Ryan’s mentors, Ryan’s friends and their families extended their world in ways they would never have predicted.

Jack officially retired from DCI in 2018. Though the pandemic and other responsibilities kept him from taking the epic trips he used to long for, he made the most of what he had. As things
loosened up, Jack and Rhonda filled their calendar with plays and concerts. Jack enjoyed being active and being out and about. He liked biking, especially along the waterfront. His walks with his dear friend, Stephen Vonderhaar (Julie’s brother) were a highlight of his week, especially the stimulating conversation, the espresso, and shared pastry at the end of the trail.

Retirement enabled more time for golf now, with yearly golf trips scheduled with his beloved high school friends or his Evans Scholars brothers. He had several groups of friends with which he was able to chase a golf ball on a more regular schedule. Among his things, Rhonda found a list where Jack counted up the number of rounds of golf he played this year: through the end of September, he played 95 rounds.

Though the time Jack spent in his retirement was relatively short, Rhonda found herself reflecting on the last few days of his time with us. The universe did actually seem to conspire to make those last few days quite wonderful. The weather was warm and sunny. They explored a new restaurant. They pursued their schedule of plays and concerts, and even though the calendar was packed, they found the time to fit in one more concert. For the first time, Jack ate snails and found out that he loved them. There was anticipation: they had a trip planned to visit Ryan and Leigh Ann in Los Angeles. The upcoming Thanksgiving was to include a trip to the Midwest to celebrate the wedding of a favorite nephew, followed by a drive to Jack’s hometown where he looked forward to a few days where he could visit with friends and family that he longed to see. Jack had just returned from a golf trip to Santa Barbara with his Evans Scholars brothers and they were beginning to plan a trip to Scotland. Those last days it seemed like wherever they went Jack and Rhonda would run into people that made them feel warm inside. Jack was looking forward. Rhonda is glad for that time. Life was good.

Jack always smiled with an open heart. We will miss that smile.

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