Wallace Jan Hunnicutt, 73, of Athens Ga. passed away peacefully on Oct. 19th, 2020 at his Five Points home, on the Oconee River, surrounded by loving family.

A native of Waycross, Georgia, Mr. Hunnicutt was preceded in-death by parents Albert Gottrell and Eldren Renee Hunnicutt and a brother Donald Hunnicutt, Jacksonville, Fla.  

Mr. Hunnicutt served his country for three years in the U.S. Army, Company A (Airborne), 12th Engineering Battalion, stationed in, Dexheim Germany and Laos. After discharge from the Army, he earned a degree in architecture from the University of Georgia.  While on the UGA campus, Jan met his wife and love of 47 years, Theresa.  While they lived in several states throughout their life together, their journey would come full circle as they returned to Athens in retirement. 

Jan pursued his first career position with Joseph Shaw, Landscape Architects in Coral Gables, Fla., followed by Black and Veatch Engineers in Kansas City. Jan was involved with design and development in the construction industry. He was an expert witness in construction litigation and depositions. Always the consummate professional, he was greatly admired by his colleagues and clients. His passion for design extended to personal projects, too. He enjoyed the hobby of buying and moving historical homes to new locations, along with home renovation projects.  As Theresa still jokes today, never once did they live in a home where a wall was not torn down, a deck added, courtyard extended, or someone fell through the ceiling. 

He was fiercely loyal and devoted to supporting his family.  He never missed a sporting event, performance or special moment for his daughter. His Christian faith led him to do quietly for other people, not seeking attention, but leading from the heart. He was involved with Christian mission projects with his daughter in Indonesia.  His family never doubted his unconditional love. Friends and family will miss his quick smile, blue eyes, and gregarious personality. He was a storyteller at heart, a world traveler, an immensely creative spirit, and humble servant.

Jan is survived by his wife of 47 years, Theresa Ann Burt; his daughter, Emily Allison Hunnicutt; sister, Sylvia Rose and husband Charlie of Statham; two brothers, George Lawrence Hunnicutt and wife Marcia of Alpharetta, and Ray Hunnicutt and wife Kay of Charleston; and two sister-in-laws; Sue Geer (husband Zeke); Pam Barto (husband Randy); and blessed with a large, loving extended family. 

The family would like to express their appreciation for the compassionate care provided by Emory’s Winship Cancer Center, the local Inspiring Hospice, and all the Prayer Warriors.  We shall remember not the years he had missed, but the intensity with which he lived the years he had. 

A private service will be held on Oct 25th, at 1:30p.m. at the Wingfield Chapel at Oconee Hill Cemetery. 297 Cemetery Street Athens, Ga. 30605. The family hopes to have a celebration of life at a later date.  A video of the service along with eulogies will be available to view on Monday at the website www.lordandstephens.com.

In lieu of floral arrangements, memorial donations may be made to:

Friends of the Oconee Hill Cemetery

P.O. Box 49219 Athens, Ga. 30604

Or 

Athens First United Methodist Outreach Sunday School

327 N Lumpkin St. Athens, Ga. 30601

Arrangements by Lord and Stephens, EAST.  

 

The two following eulogies were presented at Jan's funeral service by his wife and daughter: 

Theresa's eulogy: 

On behalf of the Hunnicutt family, we are honored that you chose to be here with us as we celebrate the life of our beloved, Wallace Jan Hunnicutt. Monday evening, October 19, 2020 the world lost a whole lot of sparkle, sparkle that began 73 years before on July 24, 1947.  Jan was born to Albert Gottrell and Eldren Renee in Waycross, Ga.  He was the youngest of five siblings; Don, Lawrence, Sylvia, Ray, and then, Jan. Growing up in Waycross provided Jan with many dear, lifelong friends and many happy memories.

Family and friends will miss his gregarious, driven, loving, and magnetic personality.  Along with spending time with family and friends, Jan had a great memory and enjoyed sharing stories, especially around the dinner table...the Hunnicutt family is composed of great storytellers, and we’ve spent wonderful times laughing around the table...here are a few memories that Theresa would like for me to share…

Jan admired his favorite movie hero, John Wayne, and took his quote to heart, “ A man’s got to have a code, a creed to live by, no matter his job.” Jan was a man who had a clear sense of right and wrong, and was consistent in what he believed. His core values that made up his character...honor, courage, and commitment. Jan practiced these principles serving his country for three years in the U.S. Army, Company A (Airborne), 12th Engineering Battalion. Stationed in Germany, Jan was the first one to procure transportation on base, a Volkswagon Beetle, which provided him and his friends access to recreational shenanigans in Germany!  Afterwards, he went to Laos. Rarely would he speak of his time in the military, for he had great reverence for the many friends that didn’t return from Vietnam.

Jan went on to study at the University of Georgia...that’s where he met the love of his life of 47 years.  Theresa was actually the romantic interest of Jan’s roommate, first.  Respectfully, Jan waited to make his move until after his roommate failed to secure Theresa’s affections.  Life in Athens was good...Jan was happy.  He was living just steps from where we sit today, just beyond the train trellises, earning a degree in architecture from UGA, and determined to marry his sweetheart.  They married in 1973 and celebrated 47 glorious years together this past August.

Jan’s first job took them to Coral Gables, Florida.  Theresa taught at a private school in Miami, even though she was not bilingual.  Every day that year felt like they were on vacation...tan, healthy, eating great seafood, even putting up their Christmas tree in their swimsuits that year! A year later, they would relocate to Overland Park, Kansas. They left Miami and their Hawaiian shirts behind and arrived just prior to the drifting Midwest snow.  Jan joined his brother, Lawrence, at Black and Veatch Consultant Engineers. Lawrence, Marcia, Laura and Lynda lived in close proximity, and were first to donate a grey, wool top coat to Jan, gloves, and a durable snow shovel.

Another cherished memory for the couple was the birth of their daughter, Emily.  She was the apple of Jan’s eye...he made a point to be a part of every game, performance, and special moment for her.  He was fiercely loyal and devoted to supporting his family, no matter what his career demanded.

When the time came to retire, Jan and Theresa came full circle in their return to Athens, where once again they could cheer on their beloved Dawgs. Jan dedicated his time to world travel with Theresa, mission work in Indonesia with Emily, St. Simon’s beach trips with those forever friends from Waycross High School, and never ending renovation projects.  

Jan always felt closer to God when working in nature... He always had an outside project of some kind going on ...In addition, they never owned a home where they didn’t knock down a wall, add a porch, extend a courtyard, or occasionally fall through the ceiling. Theresa would see Jan’s excitement as he would design and undertake a new project, whether it was for their home or one of the historical homes he had bought to renovate and move to a new location. Even up until the end, Jan demanded that his jars of nails, bolts, screws, and hammers remain in close proximity in case he felt up to working on a project.

Jan’s illness was not easy for him.  Always used to being in control, he found it hard to concede the growing need to depend upon others for support.  Always a giver, now he had to receive.  This was difficult for him, but in time he began to find his way… a new way...a softer way.

The family would like to express our appreciation for the compassionate care provided by Emory’s Winship Cancer Center, the local Inspiring Hospice, and all of our prayer warriors.  We shall always remember not the years he had missed, but the intensity with which he lived the years he had.

He will be forever remembered. He will be forever missed.

   

Emily's eulogy: 

Dad and I met on April 29th, 1983. I’m told from the minute I landed in the doctor’s arms Dad was there following nurses from station to station ensuring I was okay -  I was never out of his sight. I owe him thanks for my many freckles, amazing whistling, athletic ability, penchant for corny jokes, and shared sense of humor & perspective. I owe him my apologies for the endless soccer games he endured in the stands, he much preferred softball. The numerous pots and pans I burned while experimenting in the kitchen, and the time spent conjuring up creative punishments on the extremely rare, very seldom occasions I got in trouble. Letting the air out of my tires when I mentioned taking the car away for an extended weekend – Good one, Dad!

Dad was a man who showed up. He never missed a game, a performance, not even a parent-teacher conference  - even when Mom conveniently worked at my same school. In short, Dad was there, always! As a young kid, you look to your parents for security. No matter the circumstances with Dad, I always knew things would be okay and I was safe. That security and foundation invites a child to dream, to pursue interests, to step forward into uncertainty because they have the reassurance of their parents who are cheering them on and championing them forward. I’m keenly aware not all children are blessed to receive this, and considering the future, there is a responsibility to use this foundation wisely. Dad was a dreamer, and he made me a dreamer, too.

My Dad did not live in fear. He had vision of what could be, and made it happen. The greatest expression of this came through his design work. One of my greatest joys was building our Athens home together in college. I’ll never forget lifting four, 300lb bathtubs into the house in a rainstorm with two other burly men by our side. Slipping and sliding on wet mud, we never took such slow baby steps as we inched our way inside. I’ll never forget him telling me run to get a water bucket in case we lit the drywall on fire when completing solder burns on the pipes. I’ll never forget pulling up floor decking with one of dad’s 35 hammers from his collection. I’ll never forget the endless McDonalds lunch orders. Everyday Dad would say – Big Mac – No cheese! And then there was Taco Bell for our Spanish speaking friends. Before his passing Dad said, “I’m sorry we won’t be able to build your home together”. I reminded him,  –  “We did!”

There are many words I could share about my Dad, but I would be remised if I did not talk about his illness. In true fashion, Dad was a rarity. Cardiac Amyloidosis had only been diagnosed in about 5 people in the entire Southeast at the time of Dad’s treatment.  With it, comes Multiple Myeloma cancer.  As so many of you know, Cancer, is a thief. It wants everything from you… Your thoughts, your energy, your voice, your spirit, your future. Upon hearing of his diagnosis, my Dad was initially given 6 months to live. Well, cancer hadn’t met Dad. 4 years later, Dad has fought the good fight!  I’ve never looked at my Dad’s illness as weakness, but a clear display of his strength.

 Most of you know the duration of what Dad endured, but it’s the quiet moments that were rarely seen. As you can imagine, there’s a heightened awareness when you know your time is limited. The “I love yous” start to come multiple times a day rather than once. There’s an urgency and desire to tell people what you appreciate about them. In short, you want to give every ounce of your love to that other person. And for Dad, in those quiet moments when he was alone, there were also those talks with God. Talks only he knew.

It was easy for me to believe in an unconditional heavenly father, because my Dad was a perfect reflection of unconditional love. There are no words that can convey my gratitude for this. Over the course of my walk in faith, I shared with Dad often when I witnessed the power of the holy spirit. Whether it be God healing children in Africa, steering me from danger while abroad, removing immoveable barriers, or catching me upon leaps of faith.  God is alive, moving, and speaking – all the time. And Mom and I witnessed His power the night Dad passed. 

As many of you heard, Dad spent this past weekend in swift decline. By Monday night it was clear medicine had become powerless over his symptoms. He had been laboring for hours, searching for breath.  Mom and I looked at each other and said enough is enough. This has to stop. We couldn’t see him in pain. We stood around his bed, closed our eyes, held his hands, and prayed. We told Dad we loved him, asked God to take him, and told Dad he could go now. After 4 years of courageous battle, 2 years of weekly chemo at Emory,  a year and a half of hospice care, after numerous prayer warriors who showered Dad with blessings, the countless friends and family who brought dinners, offered encouragement, gave time and listening ears, to his doctors, nurses, and healthcare workers who treated Dad like family, to the man who never asked, “Why me?”, but instead walked the path God gave him -  In the middle of that prayer, Dad took his last breath. When we opened our eyes, he was gone.  God heard our prayer, Dad took God’s hand, and now he’s up in heaven -  Hopefully, with the job title “architect in paradise”.  There’s a peace that comes in seeing God move. May we all desire to know God intimately, and revel as we watch him work in our lives. At the end of the day, when all is stripped away, Dad knew faith perseveres.

I will remember Dad as a warrior sustained by God.  He gave his all in all he did. For Dad and I, the conversations won’t stop. But I can’t wait to see him again. Sing and dance in your new body Dad, and let us hear the music once in a while from here!