Jonathan M. Kaufmann

Jon Kaufmann, popularly known as Whiskeybags, tragically and suddenly passed away on Thursday, November 17.

Jon attended St. Bernadette and attended Bonner for two years before heading to Upper Darby High School, graduating in 1998.

Jon had great friendships that spanned decades — guys like Andrew, Jim, Mike, Pete, Phil, and Will shared his most cherished lifelong memories. But Jon also suffered a few losses that changed him forever. First, Erich, which was such a huge blow. And a few years later, Mario. Losing the guy who was always a brother to him broke Jon’s heart and changed him forever. 

So many people have great memories of Jon. We all look forward to the day we can reminisce about them, without the tragedy of his death weighing so heavily on our hearts. After all, there were lots and lots of good times with Whiskeybags. 

People always knew where they stood with Whiskey. He didn’t play games and he wanted nothing to do with drama. That was one of the best parts of dealing with him. He wore it all on his sleeve — you never had to wonder if Jon was being nice to you and then talking about you behind your back. If he was with you, he was with you all the way. If not, oh well, that was that. 

Jon worked in a variety of trades, as a union dockbuilder, or doing maintenance, painting, landscaping, construction — you name it, Jon’s done it, or could do it. Whatever he did, he did it hard. There weren’t many days where he took it easy, which those who’ve worked with him know. And God forbid if you took it easy, because he didn’t have patience (or tolerance) for slackers.

Jon Boy loved his music — Sinatra, Skynyrd, and G’n’R stand out as some of his all-time favorites, but Slayer was his mainstay. He liked to read, and his passion for movies was one that many of his friends can attest to. And, of course, he could quote Seinfeld at any moment, depending on the situation. If you ever played Yahtzee with him, you know how much he loved the game and was intensely competitive, as he was with everything.

His sense of humor, though, is probably the thing that most people remember (and love) about him. Jon had a super quick wit, and he always kept everyone laughing. That will be sorely missed. 

Jon was also a great dad. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for Hope, but being such a huge part of her life was obviously the one that mattered. Unsurprisingly, Hope is a miniature version of Jon, from her uncanny resemblance to her personality. Those who’ve known Jon for 20 or 30 years know that her loss is especially tragic, as she won’t have the chance to create a lifetime of memories with her dad. That’s not something we’d wish on anyone. 

It goes without saying that Jon’s death will leave a mark on all of us, but particularly for his sister. Anyone who knew them knew they had an unbreakable bond and were fiercely loyal to — and protective of — each other. Over his 36 years, they had only a single disagreement but never once uttered a negative word to the other. Hers will be a devastating loss to endure.

The same goes for his mother. No parent is ever prepared to bury their child, obviously, but losing Jon is unfathomable. His absence will be an overwhelming burden. 

Rest easy, Whiskey. You’re good people.

Jon was preceded in death by his father, his four grandparents and, heartbreakingly, his cousin Mario. That they’re now reunited provides at least some solace for those who love them.

Jon is survived by his daughter Hope, his mother Nancy, his sister Kristin, two nephews, two nieces, uncles, aunts and cousins.

Relatives and friends are invited to call on Tuesday, November 22 between 10am and noon, with a service immediately following, at Vraim Funeral Home, 66 S. State Road, Upper Darby.

In lieu of flowers, a fund has been set up in his daughter’s name (Hope Kaufmann) at Citizens Bank. Donations may be made at any branch.