Jon Rudyard Jennings

January 7, 1949 ~ October 15, 2023 (age 74) 74 Years Old

Jon Jennings Obituary

Jon Rudyard Jennings passed away at home in Boulder, Colorado on October 15, 2023.   

Jon began his life on January 7, 1949 as the first son in a family of five children born to Doris H. Jennings and Rudyard Clune Jennings.  He grew up in Short Hills, New Jersey and attended schools in neighboring Millburn, NJ. Jon went on to study architecture in Chicago and New York City and graduated from Pratt Institute with a degree in architecture.    

Growing up, Jon spent his free time roaming what was then woods and eventually became a housing development with streets for riding his bike and meeting friends. He sang in the church choir and was a Scout. He got his love of the outdoors through camping with his family on their wooded acreage in Bevans, NJ along the Delaware River.  

During the dry summer of 1965, when the water in the DelawareRiver was low thus exposing previously unseen areas, Jon was out exploring the river shoreline when he discovered an unusual, very large rock.  The rock appeared to have figures chiseled into it. It turned out to be New Jersey’s first-discovered petroglyph, a pictorial marker left by prehistoric Delaware Indians near the river rapids.This petroglyph with its 33 chiseled figures was named after Jon’s family…the “ Jennings Petroglyph” and was donated to the Seton Hall Museum in South Orange, NJ where it is on display.

Jon was introduced early in life to fly fishing, which became a passion of his. The Jennings family made biennial summer roadtrips from NJ to visit the maternal relatives in Montana which always included several fishing trips to mountain streams where Jon learned fly fishing from his older relatives. 

After college, and with his love of mountains, camping and fly fishing, Jon chose to live in Colorado. He spent nearly 50 years in Colorado. As an architect, Jon was artistic and creative and provided many homeowners and business owners with designs/plansand guidance to help achieve their goals. He was licensed in the states of Colorado, New York, California and Florida. 

As the only one in the family with red hair, Jon was often asked where he got his red hair. His stock answer became “it came with my head”.He always had a great sense of humor and was known as a jokester who liked to make people laugh.  

Jon was married to Wanda Doris Jennings and, during theirmarriage, he was legal guardian and foster father for many years to her niece, Heather Ford. A later marriage was to Dan Ye Jennings.For over the past five years Jon had a dedicated partnership with the late Ann Marie Hanson of Boulder, CO.

Jon was preceded in death by his parents and, last year, by his brother James Earl (wife Mary Hope) of Redmond, WA Surviving siblings are Joanne Boulanger of Camano Island, WA; Judy Walsh (husband Charles) of Great Falls, MT and Jeffrey CluneJennings (wife Colleen) of Mesquite, NV. Jon is also survived  by nieces Jennifer J. Ingersoll and Justine Jennings and by nephews Matthew Walsh, Joshua Wasilewski, Joseph Wasilewski and Jeremy Jennings.        Lastly, he is survived by six great nieces and great nephews.  

At Jon’s request there will be no memorial service. A private family gathering will be held to scatter Jon Rudyard Jennings’ ashes in his beloved Colorado mountains. 

Miss Me But Let Me Go


 When I come to the end of the day,

And the sun has set for me.

I want no rites in a gloom-filled room.

Why cry for a soul set free?

Miss me a little, but not too long,

And not with your head bowed low.

Remember the love we once shared---

Miss me, but let me go.

For this is a journey we all must take,

And each must go alone.

It’s all part of the maker’s plan.

A step on the road to home.

When you are lonely and sick at heart,

Go to the friends we know.

And bury your sorrows in doing good deeds---

Miss me, but let me go.


By Edgar A. Guest





Do not stand

By my grave, and weep.

I am not there,

     I do not sleep ---

I am the thousand winds that blow

I am the diamond glints in snow

I am the sunlight on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain.

As you awake with morning’s hush,

I am the swift, up-flinging rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight,

I am the day transcending night.

 Do not stand

      By my grave, and cry —

 I am not there,

   I did not die.

    by Clare Harner




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