Johnny Boy Doe
April 1, 1958 – August 10, 2026

Johnny Boy Doe, 68, of Fort Worth, Texas, passed away peacefully at his home on Monday, August 10, 2026, surrounded by his wife, children, grandchildren, and one extremely confused Labrador retriever.

For a man whose family spent most of his life expecting to receive a very different kind of telephone call, Johnny's peaceful departure came as something of a surprise.

Johnny was born, appropriately, on April 1, 1958, in Amarillo, Texas, to John Boy Doe Sr. and Mary Ann Doe. He was the second of four children and, according to family legend, demonstrated both his curiosity and questionable sense of self-preservation before he could walk.

Those traits never left him.

Johnny grew up in West Texas, where he learned to fish, repair engines, ride horses, tell stories of highly questionable accuracy, and confidently announce, “I know what I'm doing,” moments before proving otherwise.

He graduated from Amarillo High School in 1976 and later attended Texas State Technical College, where he studied electrical technology. Johnny spent more than 35 years working as a commercial electrician and maintenance supervisor throughout North Texas. He was widely respected for his ability to diagnose complicated electrical problems and equally well known for ignoring his own advice about ladders.

Johnny met Jane Marie Smith at a county fair after accidentally knocking an entire tray of lemonade into her lap while attempting to win her a stuffed bear.

Jane did not receive the bear.

She did, eventually, agree to marry him.

Johnny and Jane were married on June 17, 1983, beginning 43 years of marriage filled with family, laughter, road trips, home improvement projects that generally took three times longer than promised, and more visits to urgent care than Jane cared to count.

Together they raised two children, Jack Michael Doe and Jill Elizabeth Doe, both of whom inherited their mother's common sense.

Johnny's life was notable not simply for what he accomplished, but for the improbable number of situations from which he emerged relatively unharmed.

He once fell through the roof of a storage shed he was attempting to repair and landed inside an inflatable children's swimming pool that had been stored beneath it. He survived being struck by lightning while fishing, although the incident permanently ended his argument that the storm was “still pretty far away.” He was chased across approximately three acres by an exceptionally territorial miniature donkey named Biscuit.

During a family vacation, Johnny accidentally launched a fishing boat while his truck keys, wallet, shoes, and brother-in-law were still on the dock. He returned for three of the four. His brother-in-law eventually forgave him.

Johnny once attempted to remove a wasp nest using a shop vacuum, a plan that worked extraordinarily well until he remembered that shop vacuums have exhaust ports.

On another memorable afternoon, he volunteered to help a neighbor move a small bull into a different pasture. The bull disagreed with the proposed arrangement. Johnny cleared a five-foot fence at an age when his physician had been encouraging him simply to walk more.

For several years afterward, his family referred to the incident as “Johnny's cardio program.”

He also survived a riding mower rollover, a propane grill flare-up that removed most of one eyebrow, an unfortunate encounter involving a jet ski and a floating dock, and what he continued to insist was a completely reasonable attempt to retrieve a Frisbee from a pecan tree using an extension ladder positioned in the bed of a pickup truck.

Jane disagreed strongly with that assessment.

Despite these adventures (or perhaps because of them) Johnny possessed an extraordinary enthusiasm for life.

He loved fishing before sunrise, Texas Rangers baseball, Willie Nelson, old pickup trucks, strong coffee, roadside barbecue, and any project requiring a trip to the hardware store. He believed almost anything could be repaired with enough patience, the correct tool, and, when those failed, considerably more duct tape.

Johnny never met a stranger. He could spend twenty minutes buying gasoline because he had begun talking to someone at the next pump and somehow learned where they grew up, what their children did for a living, and whether their transmission had always made that noise.

He volunteered with youth baseball programs, helped neighbors repair everything from ceiling fans to fences, and regularly assisted elderly friends with household maintenance while firmly refusing payment.

For more than two decades, Johnny also participated in an informal Saturday morning breakfast group whose members claimed they gathered to discuss community matters but primarily complained about traffic, property taxes, lawn equipment, and whichever professional sports team had disappointed them most recently.

His greatest joy was his family.

Johnny adored Jane, though he routinely tested the limits of her patience and once purchased a used bass boat without first mentioning that they were apparently in the market for a bass boat.

He was immensely proud of Jack and Jill and later became the grandfather who arrived at birthday parties with toys requiring assembly, batteries, outdoor supervision, or all three.

His grandchildren knew that Grandpa Johnny would say yes to almost anything their parents had already said no to.

He taught them to bait a hook, skip rocks, change a tire, use basic tools, and appreciate the importance of carrying jumper cables.

He also taught them several things their parents specifically requested that he stop teaching them.

Johnny is survived by his beloved wife of 43 years, Jane Marie Doe; his son, Jack Michael Doe and wife Emily; his daughter, Jill Elizabeth Doe Carter and husband Matthew; six grandchildren; his siblings; numerous nieces and nephews; extended family members; many longtime friends; and his faithful Labrador retriever, Lucky, whose name Johnny frequently suggested applied equally well to his owner.

He was preceded in death by his parents, John Boy Doe Sr. and Mary Ann Doe, and his older brother, James “Jimmy” Doe.

Johnny's family will remember him not for the mishaps themselves, although there were certainly enough of them, but for the life between them.

He was generous with his time, loyal to his friends, devoted to his family, endlessly curious, quick to laugh, and almost incapable of seeing someone struggle with a problem without offering to help.

Usually, the help actually helped.

His family finds comfort in knowing that after nearly seven decades of ladders, boats, livestock, power tools, electrical storms, home improvement projects, and decisions beginning with the phrase “Watch this,” Johnny Boy Doe left this world in the safest possible manner:

At home.
Sitting down.
With absolutely no machinery involved.

The family will receive friends for visitation from 2:00 p.m. until 3:00 p.m. on Sunday, August 16, 2026, at Lucas Funeral Home in Hurst, Texas.

A celebration of Johnny's life will immediately follow at 3:00 p.m.

In keeping with Johnny's personality, the family asks guests to come comfortably dressed, share their favorite stories, and not feel obligated to pretend that every one of his ideas was a good one.

In lieu of flowers, memorial contributions may be made to a local volunteer fire department, first-responder organization, or youth recreation program.

Johnny would have appreciated all three.

The fire department, in particular, already knew him.