I’m an observer of human behavior. As the writer of this column, I have featured many interesting people who have contributed to the quality of my life.

I met Jack Knorr about 15 summers ago inside the Bear Creek Lakes community of Jim Thorpe. I was invited by my friend George to join a group of retired police and firefighters to play Wiffle ball on Tuesday mornings. Lacking the athletic skills we had in our younger days, we still managed to play the games with competitive spirit. We hit long home runs. We argued balls and strikes. Everyone took an inning to pitch. We threw overhand fastballs as hard as we could. When it was his turn, Jack’s signature pitch was a curveball that headed right at the batter and then broke out of the strike zone.

In the winter, we put away the plastic bats and balls and the “Past Our Prime” teams moved from the tennis court we called our Wiffle ball field to the bowling alley at Cypress Lanes in Lehighton. But with the turning of calendar pages, age has shown us no mercy. The minds are willing, but the bodies are not. The bat and ball have since been retired, and there are only a few of us bowlers left.

Jack comes to the lanes most every week. He still throws curveballs that break out of the strike zone, but now it’s down the lane and not from the mound.

He competes like the rest of us, but the character of this man cannot be measured in strikes and spares. Whether he bowls 180 or 80, he holds steady his pleasant demeanor. When I bowl lousy, you can see my bad body language a mile away. When he has low scoring games, he says with a laugh, “But I average 200 when I bowl at home on my computer!”

Jack comes for the camaraderie. He gets himself out of his warm house on a cold winter morning and drives to Lehighton to be with friends. He spends 90 minutes on Tuesday mornings enjoying the time we spend together. Bowling is the excuse for him, as it is for me, to be thankful for the time we share with present company.

You can find out what makes a man’s heart beat when you’re with him once a week. When he waits for his turn to bowl, Jack sings a few words from songs that were popular in the early 1960s. He’s known around Bear Creek Lakes to be a pretty good Neil Diamond karaoke singer. Jack doesn’t stand on the sidelines of life. He’s up on the stage. He’s in the game. Having fun doesn’t happen while watching others play from a seat on the bench. Get up. Get in. Do it. That’s Jack.

Russian author Fyodor Dostoevsky wrote, “Man only likes to count his troubles; he doesn’t calculate his happiness.” Life has not always blessed Jack with good fortune. A few years ago, Mary, his beloved wife, passed away. Some of his closest friends in Bear Creek Lakes have moved from the community to live near their adult children.

Despite his personal losses, Jack does not dwell on counting his troubles. He’s a happy guy with a strong affection for the past. “I miss our Wiffle ball days,” he says to me. “I wish we could all still get together and play.”

Singer Mary Hopkin sang, “Those were the days, my friend. We thought they’d never end.” They haven’t. Time clocks tick backwards inside our minds. We push the rewind button and the games we once played are fresh and new again.

Jack is in his eighth decade of living. He understands that much of his life is farther behind him than what’s left in front. A minute wasted is a minute lost. The poet Emily Dickinson wrote, “Forever is composed of nows.” Jack is not trapped in a time warp. He stays present in the moments he has with his family, with his lady friend, and when he’s with us at the lanes.

When I’m in Jack’s presence, it’s “easy like Sunday morning.” He has an infectious sense of humor. He’s a terrific people person. He visits or calls his friends who are ill. If you need a ride to the hospital to visit a loved one, Jack will pull up his car in your driveway in a matter of minutes. He stays in contact with the Bear Creek guys I no longer see. When I ask about this one or that one, he’s always prepared to give me an update.

According to an internet site called LoveQuest Coaching, a “high value man” commits to himself and to others. He loves putting forth effort for his woman. He calls rather than relies on texts. He’s a great conversationalist. He smiles a lot and is a positive person. He takes care of himself and his home. He’s fun to be around and he’s well-mannered.

That high value man is Jack Knorr.

He is empathetic and compassionate, and at an age when many senior citizens do not like being outside their comfort zones, Jack is adaptable to whatever environment he enters. He’s generous with the time he spends with others. He demonstrates gratitude. He’s honest and authentic. Perhaps the best thing about Jack is he’s unafraid to be himself.

Author, Bhuwan Thapaliya wrote, “There is no greater remedy for the heart, nor sweeter comedy for the soul, than the company of an old friend.” That describes the joy one feels in the company of Mr. Knorr.

He’s a card in the deck that helps win the poker game of life. He’s the Jack of hearts.

Email Rich Strack at richiesadie11@gmail.com