
John Gordon Novarr
1944-10-24 2024-09-16
John Gordon Novarr, age 79, died at home on September 16, 2024. He was born on October 24, 1944, in Hartford, CT to Ruth Gordon Novarr and David Novarr. His family moved to Ithaca shortly before he turned two years old. Other than his college years, and a two-year stint in the army, he lived in Ithaca his entire life.
John was a troublemaker from the start. His exasperated mother, Gordy, would take complaints from their neighbors in Belle Sherman about John’s most recent misdeeds. Whether throwing baseballs through windows or getting into fistfights, David and Gordy’s hopes for a proper home were disrupted. He had great difficulty paying attention to subjects that didn’t interest him and enjoyed illustrating this point with stories of his 9-year college experience. He flunked out twice from the University of Vermont, failed numerous courses at Cornell, was kicked out of VISTA, and finally entered the army, spending time in Vietnam. After his discharge from the army, the University of Vermont admitted him for the “third and final time.” He did well. At this point he met Pat Wilmott in the library, and they married in August 1970. Their daughter, Jennifer, was born in December 1971, during John’s period of final presentations and exams.
In the new year, the family moved back to Ithaca where John had previously supported himself by painting houses. After serving in the army, John avowed never to work for anyone else again, and he was true to his word. He began landscaping with John Costello, then house painting, moving to construction with Paul Mackesey as a partner in Novarr-Mackesey Construction, and later had a millwork shop. His mentor, Stan Goldberg (Uncle Stanley), provided invaluable advice and friendship throughout his career. While growing his business, he rented two apartments in his home on Eddy Street in Collegetown. This began the final iteration of his professional life. He became a developer of student apartments. His goal was to improve the housing both functionally and aesthetically. The project that he was most proud of was Collegetown Terrace. It took years of planning and meetings in city hall before the actual buildout. This simply would not have happened without John’s knack for connecting with people and forming long-standing working partnerships filled with mutual respect for the unique contributions of each party. He enjoyed collaborating with his friends, whether they worked on the jobsite, designed buildings and landscapes, or worked in the property management office. It was important to John to be part of improving Ithaca’s built environment for the future.
John was a very gregarious guy. He loved having people over. He and Pat, who shared a love of cuisine, worked as a team in the kitchen. In the early years of their marriage, Pat learned to always prepare dinner for more than just the three of them since John would invariably show up with friends. In the last several decades John would host friends, usually on a Friday, and undercook meat on his Big Green Egg. Friends would fill in with sides, cheeses, and bread. And, of course, enjoy wine from his collection. He so looked forward to these moments.
As a child, John was not allowed to have pets. In the spring of 1970, after discovering an ad placed by Ian Tyndall, John and Pat brought home the first of six Newfoundlands--Jonah, Izzie, Pete, Pancho, Jake, and Lola. Ian, a landscape architect, would become a friend for life. Henry, the Clumber Spaniel, was in the mix, but given the slightest opening John went back to Newfs. John loved his dogs, and they loved him. Unfortunately for Pat he was not enthusiastic about training. As with the rest of his life, he did not want any restrictions placed on him.
John had opinions and felt compelled to share them. He gave a lecture every year in the Real Estate Program at Cornell. He was open to helping on projects or just discussing issues the student or local resident might have. He would chuckle when parents who were aware of his checkered educational history would call and ask him to speak to their child and give advice as to how he got where he was. He never had a 5- or 10-year plan, just an attempt to keep improving his life.
John loved art. His minor in college was art (his major was ancient history), although he couldn’t draw to save his soul. When studying in Cornell’s School of Art, Architecture and Planning, he took a course that required some drawing. His professor finally told him to trace something from the text in lieu of drawing. His aesthetic interests extended to Italian glass and Persian rugs. John and Pat bought their first piece of glass in an antique shop in London in the 1980’s, and John continued to search wherever he travelled. He enjoyed going to auctions in New Hampshire with Mike and Sue Wilmott, Pat’s brother and sister-in-law.
John was an incredibly generous person, sharing his time, advice, housing, food, and personal belongings. Friends would come and stay for days and even years. When Bosnian refugee students came to Cornell, John gave them a place to live. When students were forced out of their apartments because of fire, he housed them. There would always be extra food at his house, and when the Jewish grandmother in John appeared, he pushed food on whomever happened to stop by. He loved to talk to people: at home, at parties, at events, on the street, out to dinner, in restaurants, in bars, on the telephone. He just loved to interact with people. John relished telling jokes over and over. He favored puns of the dirty and offensive variety. Every conversation would remind him of a joke. He became increasingly giddy as he approached the punchline, barely able to contain his delight at the prospect of watching his audience’s reaction.
John leaves behind his wife of 54 years, Pat Novarr; his daughter, Jen Novarr; son-in-law, Walter Silbert; his sister, Frances Strayer; and his grandchildren, Ben, Izzy, and Lala (Ursula), whom he adored. John also leaves behind, or in some cases is predeceased by, many friends whom he cherished and with whom he shared many experiences, including the growing pains that occur from time to time when people with big personalities and emotions engage in debate.
Please join us in celebrating and remembering John at a memorial service on Saturday, November 9, from to 2 to 5 p.m. at Coltivare (235 South Cayuga Street, Ithaca).
John was a troublemaker from the start. His exasperated mother, Gordy, would take complaints from their neighbors in Belle Sherman about John’s most recent misdeeds. Whether throwing baseballs through windows or getting into fistfights, David and Gordy’s hopes for a proper home were disrupted. He had great difficulty paying attention to subjects that didn’t interest him and enjoyed illustrating this point with stories of his 9-year college experience. He flunked out twice from the University of Vermont, failed numerous courses at Cornell, was kicked out of VISTA, and finally entered the army, spending time in Vietnam. After his discharge from the army, the University of Vermont admitted him for the “third and final time.” He did well. At this point he met Pat Wilmott in the library, and they married in August 1970. Their daughter, Jennifer, was born in December 1971, during John’s period of final presentations and exams.
In the new year, the family moved back to Ithaca where John had previously supported himself by painting houses. After serving in the army, John avowed never to work for anyone else again, and he was true to his word. He began landscaping with John Costello, then house painting, moving to construction with Paul Mackesey as a partner in Novarr-Mackesey Construction, and later had a millwork shop. His mentor, Stan Goldberg (Uncle Stanley), provided invaluable advice and friendship throughout his career. While growing his business, he rented two apartments in his home on Eddy Street in Collegetown. This began the final iteration of his professional life. He became a developer of student apartments. His goal was to improve the housing both functionally and aesthetically. The project that he was most proud of was Collegetown Terrace. It took years of planning and meetings in city hall before the actual buildout. This simply would not have happened without John’s knack for connecting with people and forming long-standing working partnerships filled with mutual respect for the unique contributions of each party. He enjoyed collaborating with his friends, whether they worked on the jobsite, designed buildings and landscapes, or worked in the property management office. It was important to John to be part of improving Ithaca’s built environment for the future.
John was a very gregarious guy. He loved having people over. He and Pat, who shared a love of cuisine, worked as a team in the kitchen. In the early years of their marriage, Pat learned to always prepare dinner for more than just the three of them since John would invariably show up with friends. In the last several decades John would host friends, usually on a Friday, and undercook meat on his Big Green Egg. Friends would fill in with sides, cheeses, and bread. And, of course, enjoy wine from his collection. He so looked forward to these moments.
As a child, John was not allowed to have pets. In the spring of 1970, after discovering an ad placed by Ian Tyndall, John and Pat brought home the first of six Newfoundlands--Jonah, Izzie, Pete, Pancho, Jake, and Lola. Ian, a landscape architect, would become a friend for life. Henry, the Clumber Spaniel, was in the mix, but given the slightest opening John went back to Newfs. John loved his dogs, and they loved him. Unfortunately for Pat he was not enthusiastic about training. As with the rest of his life, he did not want any restrictions placed on him.
John had opinions and felt compelled to share them. He gave a lecture every year in the Real Estate Program at Cornell. He was open to helping on projects or just discussing issues the student or local resident might have. He would chuckle when parents who were aware of his checkered educational history would call and ask him to speak to their child and give advice as to how he got where he was. He never had a 5- or 10-year plan, just an attempt to keep improving his life.
John loved art. His minor in college was art (his major was ancient history), although he couldn’t draw to save his soul. When studying in Cornell’s School of Art, Architecture and Planning, he took a course that required some drawing. His professor finally told him to trace something from the text in lieu of drawing. His aesthetic interests extended to Italian glass and Persian rugs. John and Pat bought their first piece of glass in an antique shop in London in the 1980’s, and John continued to search wherever he travelled. He enjoyed going to auctions in New Hampshire with Mike and Sue Wilmott, Pat’s brother and sister-in-law.
John was an incredibly generous person, sharing his time, advice, housing, food, and personal belongings. Friends would come and stay for days and even years. When Bosnian refugee students came to Cornell, John gave them a place to live. When students were forced out of their apartments because of fire, he housed them. There would always be extra food at his house, and when the Jewish grandmother in John appeared, he pushed food on whomever happened to stop by. He loved to talk to people: at home, at parties, at events, on the street, out to dinner, in restaurants, in bars, on the telephone. He just loved to interact with people. John relished telling jokes over and over. He favored puns of the dirty and offensive variety. Every conversation would remind him of a joke. He became increasingly giddy as he approached the punchline, barely able to contain his delight at the prospect of watching his audience’s reaction.
John leaves behind his wife of 54 years, Pat Novarr; his daughter, Jen Novarr; son-in-law, Walter Silbert; his sister, Frances Strayer; and his grandchildren, Ben, Izzy, and Lala (Ursula), whom he adored. John also leaves behind, or in some cases is predeceased by, many friends whom he cherished and with whom he shared many experiences, including the growing pains that occur from time to time when people with big personalities and emotions engage in debate.
Please join us in celebrating and remembering John at a memorial service on Saturday, November 9, from to 2 to 5 p.m. at Coltivare (235 South Cayuga Street, Ithaca).