My Friend John Hoover

My longtime friend John Hoover passed from his mortal form on March 19. Today I honor him and reflect on his powerful influence on my life.

In Knoxville in 1983, I screwed up my courage and began therapy with a local psychologist, John Hoover, a tall, brawny man with an engaging and amiable manner. I immediately sensed that I could trust John and that it was safe to share my innermost thoughts and feelings with him. Having already cut back on my excessive alcohol consumption, John did his best to help me get to the root of my self-destructive lifestyle, to recognize and deal with my hyper-masculine, self-indulgent behavior.

During my third session, I finally asked what had been on my mind all along: “John, am I crazy?” “No,” John replied with a warm smile. “You’re not crazy, Bruce.” Well, that’s it for me, I thought. I didn’t return for further sessions, because only crazy people needed to see psychologists, right?

A few years later in 1986, the middle of my fourth decade, life’s wake-up calls became so excruciating, so undeniable, that they could no longer be ignored—bankruptcy, losing my home and business, and divorce. Conceding, at long last, the futility of my current existence, I hit rock bottom.

In desperation I called John Hoover and appealed to him for guidance. Once I explained my situation, John said, “As it turns out, I just participated in a powerful self-awareness workshop sponsored by the Kairos Foundation. I think you ought to find the nearest one and get yourself there as soon as possible.” John said he’d send the brochure, and it arrived around a week later.

I was frightened and withdrawn at the beginning of the workshop; I participated but guardedly. As the weekend progressed, however, my heart gradually opened, and the protective shield that I’d worn like iron for all those years began to melt away. I was overcome with a powerful sense of well-being, of being loved and accepted just as I was—nothing to prove, no way I had to be. At last, I’d found the secret passage to a more fulfilling life that I’d futilely sought through copious amounts of beer, cocaine, pot, and psychedelics.

Sharon & John Hoover

Fast forward two decades. Once my girlfriend Shonnie (soon to be my wife) and I moved to Asheville in 1997, we had the opportunity to spend quality time with John and Sharon Hoover on a regular basis. We visited them at their lovely home outside of Knoxville, and they visited us in North Carolina. Sometimes we met at workshops, frequently we hiked in the southern Appalachian Mountains, and often we shared meals.

I also supported John and his colleague Eli Mitchell in writing and independently publishing their book The Elders Speak: Two Psychologists Share Their Lifetimes of Experience, spending a few days in the seclusion of Eli’s cabin to plan our course of action. And in 2011, I worked with John on his book The Uniting Power of Conflict. In 2019, we participated in John’s 80th birthday celebration.

Now, after four decades of friendship, I look back with deep gratitude on how John helped shepherd me toward a life of greater authenticity, compassion, and service. And despite his passing, his words of empathy, intuition, and wisdom will remain with me, and I will hold him in my heart for the rest of my days.