James Willard Stout

Jim Stout was one tough dude.

In 1965, he survived a deadly car crash that threw him head-first out of the back seat of a convertible Triumph TR3.

And when Hurricane Camille struck the Gulf Coast in 1969, Jim hunkered down while at Air Force tech school in Biloxi, Mississippi. He sheltered in a windowless cinder block classroom to ride out the Category 5 storm.

In 1981, Jim hyperextended his leg while whitewater rafting down the Tuolumne River in California. A fellow rafter crashed down on his knee in the middle of nowhere. Jim and crew had to paddle another 12 miles before he could reach medical help.

There was also his stay at Beijing Xiehe Hospital in the late 90s for a stomach bug. It turned into a severe case of gastroenteritis that led to near kidney failure. But Jim bounced back, and soon returned to China in a tartan tuxedo for his daughter’s wedding party in 2001.

Jim collected an untold number of lesions and scars from his backyard battles with overgrown trees and stumps, along with various other missions. One time, he sprained his foot after falling into the swimming pool while cleaning it and, without complaint, dragged himself out to patch himself up.

A master of understatement, Jim waved away his ailments over the years as mere scratches and bugs when he required actual stitches and immediate medical attention. Admission to hospital for a “bad tummy” in 2006 confounded doctors who needed three days to determine it was gallstones and a serious infection that required immediate removal of his gallbladder.

Jim was also never one to shy away from a dirty job. If there was a black widow spider to neutralize, a snake to bag, or a pesky rat to eliminate, Jim was on the case. And if you ever needed someone to taste test a suspicious quart of milk to determine whether it’s past its expiration date, he’s your man.

Jim was tough, that’s been established. But he was also a tender man and, going back, WAY back, a tender boy who grew up adoring his hometown sporting heroes in Philly.

Born November 9, 1946 in Jenkintown, Pennsylvania, Jim was the only child of Willard and Louise (“Polly”) Stout. At age 10, his father took Jim to his first Eagles game and Jim immediately became a lifelong fan.

Young Jim played flag football, softball and basketball, along with his toy soldiers and beloved cocker spaniel Suzie. In high school, he excelled at breaststroke as a competitive swimmer, and worked as a caddy at North Hills Country Club where he picked up the game of golf (while picking up 10 bucks on a good day).

Jim went on to study at Shippensburg University while living it up with his brothers at Tau Kappa Epsilon. After graduation, he joined the Air Force to serve in Okinawa and Taipei, where he met the love of his life.

While courting Grace Chun-Chi Lu, Jim endeavored to master the Chinese language. Ultimately, he learned how to say “cheers,” “drink beer,” and “I love you” in perfect Mandarin. And that was pretty much about it.

Jim and Grace married and settled in Jenkintown, and soon welcomed their daughters Kristie and Jodie. To support his young family, Jim worked days in tech sales and nights as a janitor until his big break with his employer AMP in 1979.

The company dispatched Jim to California, and in the early 80s, he looked after a new client named Apple Computer. And so in Cupertino, he started his long and illustrious career in the Golden State, riding the personal computer revolution in the 1980s and, later, the networked computer wave of the 90s.

A high-flying Silicon Valley professional, Jim was also a father to two teenage daughters and never lacked in finding ways to embarrass them. He would routinely collect the morning newspaper in nothing but his threadbare tighty-whities for all in the cul-de-sac to see.

Jim said one of his great life moments was when, under his captainship, the Stouts won the family putting competition at the Aston Kaanapali Shores resort in Maui in 1988. He savored victory again when Jim enrolled himself and his daughter Jodie in the father-son golf tournament at Saratoga Country Club. The duo smashed the glass ceiling to clinch the 2nd place trophy, which featured a bronze father and son mid-swing.

Two beloved dogs also made the Stout house a home -- a collie named Puffy and a basset hound called Tootsie. Jim was the primary caretaker for both beloved pets, and cared for them dutifully while cursing the constant clean up of dog hair, dumps, and drool.

In 2013, Jim scored the ultimate retirement job as a golf marshall with the Pebble Beach Company. With the golf cart as his new office, he ensured the rules and pace of play while always looking after his guests including the former president Barack Obama, basketball great Steph Curry, and “a very nice young musician from England” who had female fans trailing him on the links. Jodie and Kristie had to inform Jim he had an extended conversation with none other than Harry Styles.

An avid golfer, Jim scored three holes-in-one in his lifetime. He also collected an untold number of golf balls. The threat of tick-borne disease or poison oak did not dissuade him from leaping into the rough and going on the hunt. Jim gave the pink balls to his granddaughter, Arabella, and the neon ones to grandsons Finn and Seamus.

A loving grandparent, Jim combed the beaches along Monterey Bay with the kids and his beloved rescue dog, Daddoo. Along with Grace, they enjoyed playing games like Chinese checkers, Rummikub, and Blockus -- and Jim would rejoice when he managed a win.

Ever the tough dude, Jim clawed himself out of ICU in the summer of 2024 when complications from radiation therapy threw him into septic shock and pneumonia. Melanoma had been his mortal enemy for close to a decade, and when it morphed into full blown stage four cancer, it was an impossible beast to defeat.

Jim died peacefully at home on November 2, 2024. He leaves behind his wife Grace Lu Stout, who cared for him dutifully and faithfully until the end. He also leaves his daughters Kristie (“loaf of bread”) Lu Stout and Jodie (“Jo-by”) Lu Stout Hoffman and his sweet dog Daddoo who continues to shed all over the carpets.

And if the angels could push play on Jim’s favorite song to usher him to heaven, it would have to be Fleetwood Mac’s "Go Your Own Way" -- a rock anthem he just couldn’t drive the speed limit to.

Drive, Jim, drive.

Fly, Eagles, fly.

In lieu of flowers, the family asks that you consider making a donation to Jim's favorite charity by clicking the link below.