Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt
Joey was a selfless, kind soul who, despite times of depression, wanted to see life as beautiful. He was loyal, loving, and charismatic—always the first to help a friend or family member in need. If he had five dollars, he would give you four. His mother, Agnes, shared, “He once pitched an entire game with no hits. His nickname was Smokin’ Joe. He had a fastball no one could touch.” Though she didn’t recognize the signs of addiction at the time, she loved him through all the tough times he experienced.
From a young age, Joey showed extraordinary natural artistic and musical talent. He could pick up any instrument and play it beautifully—guitar, piano, drums—all self-taught. Music was his refuge and his gift to others. “It was magical how he played guitar,” his sister Shannon stated; “It could bring you to tears.” As he poured emotion into every note, his listeners became transfixed, and Joey forgot about his addiction.
Joey’s artistic spirit extended beyond music. His former wife, Brianna, said, “He was talented in drawing and with his words and writing as well. So many phrases he made up, I still reference today.” Joey’s addiction opened her eyes to the reality that no one is immune to this disease, even ones we respect, admire, and hold in the highest regard; it knows no bounds.
A hard worker, Joey went to night classes to become an electrician, ultimately becoming a well-respected and sought-after journeyman. He took pride in his craft, often driving his daughter Jacy to see the jobs he completed.
Family was everything to Joey. He adored Jacy, now 23, and treasured every milestone with her—teaching her to swim, drive, play guitar, and appreciate both the good and the bad in music. He often made-up songs spontaneously; Jacy remembers the “Jacy song” and how he learned the theme songs to every television show she loved just to sing them for her. Now, Jacy feels the deep ache of knowing her dad will never meet her boyfriend, Ryan, be at her eventual wedding, or know any children she may have. A philosophical man, who felt everything deeply, Joey left this quote for Jacy in a book: “There is a world beyond us. The more we look and harder we believe, the more real it all becomes.”
Joey was also the best big brother—helping Shannon learn to ride a bike, spending time with her children, and offering wisdom and laughter through long philosophical conversations. His presence made every family gathering brighter, whether on Christmas Eve or during the annual apple-picking tradition with the Juntas, his mother’s large extended family.
Joey struggled with addiction for many years, sometimes becoming withdrawn, cold, and defensive. After his death, his sister thought that Joey, being at peace in heaven, would give the family peace as well, but found, “there is just a huge hole in the family and in our hearts. We are forever changed.”
Despite his pain, Joey was a reliable worker and was determined to get better, seeking treatment many times. “His energy was contagious; you wanted to engage with him,” Shannon stated. The family remembers his wisdom, his humor, his contagious smile, and his ability to see beauty in everything. A favorite quote from Kurt Vonnegut captures how he wanted to see the world: “Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.”
Today, Shannon continues his legacy by pursuing a career in nursing, dedicating her work to helping others affected by addiction. “They are human. They are sick. They need love and support,” she says. “I hope he is proud of each and every one of us. We miss him more than words can describe.”
Joey’s sister, Shannon Hansen, together with his mother, Agnes, daughter Jacy, and former wife, Brianna, provided the information for this narrative.
August 11, 1981–April 3, 2020–Age 38
Portrait Artist: Shawn Faust
Narrative Writer: Barbara Francois
