Jon Alden Halseth

Jon Alden “Jack” Halseth passed away peacefully on August 23, 2026, at the age of 88, surrounded by family and under hospice care. Earlier that day, Jack had been visited by his children, their spouses, his grandchildren and his great-grandson. We are incredibly thankful that everyone had the opportunity to see him and be with him one last time.

Jack was born December 18, 1937, in Crookston, Minnesota, to Alden Edmore Halseth and Christine Knutson Halseth. He was the oldest of four boys: Jack, Robert “Bob”, David “Dave” and Michael “Mike.” Dave preceded him in death.

Competition apparently started early in the Halseth household. Growing up, it was often Jack and Mike against Bob and Dave. Many decades later, the stories of those games are still told — although exactly who won and who lost remains very much in contention.

Jack grew up primarily in Minnesota and attended Hopkins High School, where he played center linebacker on a very successful football team. Family lore remembers those Hopkins teams as undefeated and among the best in Minnesota in an era before official state football champions were crowned.

After high school, Jack attended the University of Minnesota for a year and later completed his college education at Fresno State in California.

It was also through sports that Jack met the person who would become the most important part of his life.

Jack and Venies met playing softball through the Luther League. As the story has always been told, Jack was coming toward home plate when Venies tagged him out.

Apparently, Jack didn't mind losing that one.

A couple of years later, Jack and Venies were married in Fresno, California, on May 26, 1962. They would spend the next 64 years together as husband and wife.

In 1962, Jack began three years of service in the United States Army. He ultimately attained the rank of Sergeant E-5 and served as a Military Intelligence Specialist, including an assignment at Fitzsimons General Hospital in Denver, Colorado. His military record includes the Good Conduct Medal, Sharpshooter Badge and Expert Badge.

Following his military service, Jack and Venies returned to Fresno, where Jack began his career in life insurance with Lincoln National. They later moved to Concord, California, before Jack accepted a position with Canada Life that brought the family to Atlanta in 1979.

Atlanta became home.

Jack later worked for Copeland Company selling tax-sheltered annuities and eventually formed his own business, J.A. Halseth & Associates, continuing his career selling tax-sheltered annuities and building relationships with clients and colleagues that lasted for decades.

But if you really want to understand Dad, you have to talk about sports, family — and numbers.

Jack loved statistics. He had one of those minds that remembered scores, numbers, times and performances.

That statistical brain showed itself especially when his daughter, Jeanenne, became a competitive swimmer in California. Dad closely followed her swimming career and kept a private journal recording her races, times and accomplishments through the years.

Every race mattered. Every time mattered. Every improvement mattered enough for Dad to write it down.

Years later, that same statistical mind found another outlet. Jack spent approximately 30 years doing courtside statistics for Georgia Tech basketball. Earlier, while living in California, Jack and Venies had even done play-by-play for Fresno State football.

But keeping track of Jeanenne's swimming was different. It wasn't a job. It was Dad paying attention. Looking back, keeping track was one of the ways Jack showed how closely he followed his children and how proud he was of them.

Tennis created a different connection between Dad and me.

When I was 18, Dad grabbed me to play ALTA tennis with him. We lost our first match together. Dad's assessment of my tennis ability at the time was pretty straightforward: I could hit the fence harder than anybody.

Unfortunately, the balls were supposed to land inside the court first.

I eventually went on to play college tennis, but beating Dad was another matter. It wasn't until my sophomore year playing college tennis that I could finally beat him.

And then, nearly 30 years after Dad first taught me the game, something pretty special happened.

We became teammates again.

Dad and I played together on an ALTA team — and this time we won the ALTA championship together.

From an 18-year-old kid hitting balls into the fence to winning a championship alongside my father 30 years later, tennis gave us something we shared for most of our lives.

Golf gave us plenty of stories too.

Dad had a hole-in-one.

I still don't.

One of my favorite golf memories happened on my wedding day. I was playing that morning with Dad, my uncle and my future father-in-law, and I was having the best round of my life.

We reached the 18th hole and Dad decided this was the perfect moment to announce:

“You know, son, if you par this hole, you'll shoot a 79.”

It was the ultimate announcer's jinx.

I shot an 81.

And Dad won the dollar we had riding on the last hole.

That was Dad.

Competitive right to the end — even on his son's wedding day.

Jack and Venies joined Indian Hills Country Club in 1979, and the club became a major part of their lives. Dad was an avid golfer and tennis player and remained active in both until only the last few years of his life.

And his competitive streak didn't disappear when he came inside.

Jack loved cribbage and bridge. We had regular family bridge games with Dad and me playing against Mom and William Alden.

Dad had a remarkable ability to pull off finesse that didn't seem possible.

Mom had another explanation.

She regularly called him a cheater.

Whether Dad was actually that good, extraordinarily lucky, or Mom was onto something is another family question that may never be resolved.

What is certain is that Dad loved playing games, loved competing, and especially loved doing those things with the people closest to him.

And for all the statistics, competition and stories, there were also the little things that simply became Dad.

Almost every morning, Dad would greet the people around him the same way:

“Hello, beautiful people.”

It was such a simple phrase, but it was unmistakably Jack. For those who heard it over the years, it's difficult to imagine a morning with Dad without hearing those words.

Jack is survived by his wife of 64 years, Venies Halseth; his son, Jon Halseth, and wife Mary Ann; and his daughter, Jeanenne Bullis, and husband Jeff.

He is also survived by his grandchildren, William “Alden” Halseth and his wife, Jessica Diaz Halseth; Ashlyn Ellis and her husband, Calvin Ellis; Avery Halseth; and Joshua “Josh” Bullis; and his great-grandson, Atlas Jack Halseth, who carries his great-grandfather's name.

Jack is also survived by his brothers, Robert “Bob” Halseth and Michael “Mike” Halseth, along with extended family and many friends accumulated over a lifetime.

Dad lived long enough to see something especially meaningful: another generation of his family arrive.

He got to meet and spend time with his great-grandson, Atlas Jack.

And on Dad's final day, his children, their spouses, his grandchildren and his great-grandchild were all able to see him. Later that evening, with his family around him and under the care of hospice, Dad passed away peacefully.

Jack's 88 years took him from Minnesota to California, through three years in the United States Army, and eventually to Georgia, where he and Venies made their home for nearly half a century.

He had 64 years of marriage, two children, four grandchildren and a great-grandchild. He built his own business. He played countless rounds of golf and tennis matches, kept statistics, played bridge and cribbage, followed his children's accomplishments, and apparently spent a lifetime trying to prove to everyone in the family that he could still beat them.

The scores of most of those games have long since been forgotten.

Or, if you ask the four Halseth brothers, remain under dispute.

But the stories haven't.

And neither will Dad.

And perhaps tomorrow morning, more than a few of us will hear him saying it one more time:

“Hello, beautiful people.”