• Obituary

    Kathryn Kauffman of Gainesville, formerly of Dunedin (FL), Billerica, and Lynn (MA), died on November 13th. She follows her husband of more than 50 years, James, who passed in 2021. Among those who remain behind to morn her loss: her son John, her daughters Christine and Lisa, as well as four grandchildren. She was 82 years old. 

    Born Kathryn Conner, she was the child of Wendell and Elizabeth (Knights) Conner. She descends from families with long histories in New England, including passengers on the Mayflower.

    She enjoyed visiting her grandparents in Vermont as a child. She enjoyed the beach and met her future husband on the North Shore of Massachusetts. She loved animals and especially her cats. She loved some even when it was not clear they loved her back. She had a knack for closing her eyes the moment anyone was taking a picture.

    She moved with her young family to Florida in 1979.

    She was a lifelong homemaker and mother, raising three happy children. After finishing with her own, she watched her oldest grandchild during the day until worsening health took its toll.  Although she could seem to many like a quiet person, she never stopped surprising people with her sharp wit.

    Her health problems took over her life much too early, from the turn of the century until she passed.  While this long, final phase of her life was a constant struggle, her children will endeavor to remember her as the woman who could still smile and laugh. They will remember she had the strength to successfully raise a family.  Through it all, her children never doubted that she loved them.

    A private memorial service will be held in the near future.

  • Three Types

    I feel like my father sabotaged me from the grave. I’d gathered the strength to do some sorting of his stuff, discarding things I didn’t think anyone would need – or want.

    An early sign his mind was going – and he was fully aware of it – was an afternoon spent at his condo in Gainesville, maybe four years ago. He gave me a copy of his 1Password vault and more importantly, the master password to open it. There was a time he wouldn’t tell me how much he made for a living (re: my whole life) and now he was giving me the keys to… everything.

    Ever his son, his last Mac sits running in the corner of my living room even today. I’m afraid of throwing it away without going through everything first… despite having multiple/full backups… in multiple locations (because that’s the way I roll).

    Now, if you think there are a lot of things to go through when you’re cleaning out a house filled with a lifetime of memories, think about all the stuff that would accumulate on an engineer’s computer – one who didn’t throw away anything – and carried forward all the data from the last computer when he got a new one.

    By the way, if anyone needs a license/registration number for a version of Quicken that’ll run on MacOS 9 (or earlier), let me know and I’ll hook you up.

    So I was browsing a collection of encrypted financial records (and finding a more permanent place to keep ‘em), when I came across a seemingly lost text file with the name: “Three Types.” What follows is the full text from this file:

    There are only three types of people in the universe:

    Those that can count,
    And those that can’t.

    I love you Dad. I miss you.

  • Obituary

    Dad with Eric

    James Kauffman, formerly of Dunedin (FL), Billerica (MA), and Altoona (PA), died on July 16th. He passed quietly with family at his side. Among those who remain behind to morn his loss: his wife Kathryn, his son John, his daughters Christine and Lisa, his sister Suzanne, a nephew Glenn, as well as four grandchildren. He takes with him his dry wit, an affinity for outdoor activities (bicycling, boating, etc) that you might not guess of someone who spent his life working indoors, and devotion to a woman he could not leave behind on a Massachusetts beach – more than fifty years ago. He was 78 years old.

    Jim – as he was known to family and friends – earned degrees at Penn State University and Ohio State University, concluding with a master’s degree in Physics. He went on to work as an engineer for three different employers before he retired: Block Engineering, Honeywell, and Brunswick. However, he spent the bulk of his career at Honeywell, in Clearwater, FL.

    Although he could be cagey about the specifics of his job (he once got into trouble for bringing his young son to the office on the weekend), he took pride in working on various projects over the years involving manned and unmanned spaceflight. Additionally, more than one creation bears his name at the U.S. Patent Office.

    He rarely missed a week of Church at his long-time parish: Lutheran Church of the Palms (Palm Harbor, FL), held a number of offices on the governing council (including president), and seldom said no when asked to serve in any capacity.

    Jim leaves this life much as he lived it. He spent much of his time savoring the quiet joy of a good book or taking the quiet satisfaction of solving puzzles – in many forms – both designed and spun from life’s exquisite chaos. Through it all, he always gave much more than he received.

    A private memorial service will be held in the near future.

    In lieu of flowers – in line with what his family believes would be his wishes – please consider either a gift to your local church or your local NPR Station.