John Hapworth

WINSLOW – John Hapworth lived a good life. He said so himself.

When he received his leukemia diagnosis, John told his family, “I’ve had a good life, and I’m ready.” And he meant it. His life was made good by the people and places he loved: his family, his friends, his students, his players, his fellow teachers, his old teammates, his dog Bojangles, and the family property in Winslow, that remained the center of his life.

John was born in 1947 to Harry and Sylvia Hapworth and grew up with his sister, Kathleen, on the family farm in Winslow. The farm, and especially the old barn, became one of the fixed points of his life. As a boy, he spent hours playing basketball in that barn, where he dominated his “Barn League” by knowing every loose floorboard, how to arch a shot over the beams, and how to run unfortunate opponents directly into the posts if they weren’t careful.

For the rest of his life, he loved pointing out barns while driving the back roads of Maine. The older, stranger, and more weather-beaten, the better.

Basketball became one of the great through-lines of his life. He was a standout player at Winslow High School and went on to play at Thomas College, where he scored more than 1,000 points and was later inducted into the Thomas College Hall of Fame, a point of pride for the rest of his life.

John earned his teaching degree and spent 39 years teaching high school business, primarily at Messalonskee High School. To generations of students, he was simply Mr. Hapworth: funny, memorable, and very good at what he did.

There were, of course, the official duties of the job. Then there were the other duties, the ones John apparently assigned to himself. From singing “Chantilly Lace” at school assemblies to reading “How the Grinch Stole Christmas!” over the intercom before Christmas vacation, no one was ever entirely sure how these things began, or why he alone had decided they needed to continue. This was often the way with John. He did something once, enjoyed it, and so it was.

The great love of John’s life was Katherine Haynes, his wife of 46 years and the person most qualified to deal with him. Together, they raised three boys on the same property in Winslow where John had grown up, adding a new generation of memories to the land that had shaped so many of his own.

John loved his family more than anything, and often showed it by making them laugh. He made Kathy laugh like no one else could, whether by propping up the old vacuum cleaner like a microphone and pretending to sing into it as “Iggy Poo and the Poo Poos,” or by sitting at his desk and suddenly becoming Jerry Lee Lewis, arms and feet flying as he pounded away at an imaginary piano. He and Kathy loved day trips around Maine, a glass of wine under the trees, and quiet time together at home.

He loved his boys: coaching them, watching games with them, playing sports in the yard, and telling the same stories, jokes, and anecdotes so often they became family lore. On Christmas nights, he liked sitting by the tree and getting sentimental about old family memories, which was very John.

He was also devoted to his mother, Sylvia, who lived next door for many years. He visited her daily to tell her about his day, share a funny story, or play her a song.

John liked what he liked, loved who he loved, and didn’t spend much time pretending otherwise. He could be stubborn, tender, funny, and sentimental, often in the same day. He also had a way of walking into a room, a restaurant, or a coffee shop and somehow leaving with everyone fussing over him.

In his later years, John and Kathy moved to Salem, Mass., where he quickly became a familiar presence around town. He made his rounds, stopping to visit some of his favorite people at downtown shops, restaurants, and cafes. The man had a way of collecting friends wherever he went.

John is survived by his wife, Katherine Hapworth; his son, Scott Hapworth of Frankenmuth, Mich., his son, Ty Hapworth and his wife Micah of Salem, Mass., his son, Sam Hapworth and his wife Jenna of South Portland; his grandchildren, Ethan, Isaac, Harrison, Sylvia, Nora, and Max; and his sister, Kathleen Noel and her husband Mark of Winslow.

A small reception to honor John, tell stories, and share memories will be held this summer in Winslow, with details to be announced.

If you ever find yourself missing him, put on a song that reminds you of him, mix yourself a martini, or have a Moxie, and look out over the nearest field for a while. That’s probably what he’s doing right now, wherever he is. And wherever that is, he’s probably already formed a few opinions about the place and found some new friends who haven’t heard all his jokes yet.