The Saga of Jonathan Franklin Nemanic

This is not the story of the day we said goodbye.

It is the story of a man whose love continues to ripple through the lives of everyone fortunate enough to know him.

Welcome to his saga.

Jonathan Franklin Nemanic entered this world as an Aries on March 21st, 1991, during the Spring Equinox, carrying the courage to begin. He embodied the heart of the Sun—radiant with generosity, loyalty, warmth and a fire that was unmistakably his own. Jonny was a devoted son, nephew, and friend who showed incredible bravery, had an infectious laugh, and a radiant smile. He could seem shy when you first met him, but once Jonny welcomed you into his inner circle, you weren’t his friend anymore.

You were family.

There are souls who pass through this world quietly.

And then there are souls who leave an imprint on every heart they touch. My son was one of those souls. Every soul has a language. Some speak through music. Some through art. Some through the people whose lives they forever change. Jonny spoke through love. He loved hard and he loved deep. He gave without keeping score. He laughed with his whole heart. He stood beside the people he loved not because he had to, but because that was simply who he was. He could burn with passion and soften with compassion. He could be fierce in his convictions and endlessly generous with his heart.

His generosity wasn’t measured by what he owned. It was measured by the way he made people feel. If you were his friend, you became family. If you were hurting, he noticed.

If you needed someone beside you, he was there.  Jonny was genuine. What you saw was what you got—although appearances could be wonderfully deceiving.

He looked like a rough-and- tough biker dude: stocky, muscular, tattooed, riding a Harley and looking like someone you probably shouldn’t mess with. And then you got to know him.

Behind that exterior was an enormously caring man with a generous smile, a wicked sense of humor, tremendous loyalty and a deep concern for the people around him.

Anyone fortunate enough to truly know Jonny knows how lucky they were.

The Warrior and the Guardian

In our family, we understand life through symbols. Jonny carried the courage of the warrior and the protection of the guardian. In the wisdom of the Dagara, he belonged to the Water Clan—the ones who remind us that life is made of arrivals and departures, of tears and laughter, of rivers that never truly end.

They simply continue their journey.

That feels especially true for Jonny.

Because his story began long before his illness ever entered it.

As a young man, Jonny seemed determined to experience everything that interested him at least once—and usually at full throttle.

There were dirt bikes. BMX. snowboarding. paintball.

He would become fascinated with something, dive into it completely, master what interested him, feel satisfied… and then move on to the next adventure.

That curiosity would eventually become his greatest gift.

The Man Who Could Hear What Was Wrong

Jonny became a master auto mechanic and diagnostician. But calling him a mechanic doesn’t quite explain what he could do. Jonny could listen to the heartbeat of the vehicle and fix what wasn’t right—an auto surgeon.

He possessed knowledge and diagnostic ability far beyond what anyone would normally expect for his age.

At Equity Auto, when another technician encountered a problem that wouldn’t cooperate, Jonny was often the person they turned to.

And Jonny loved the difficult ones.

The strange problem. The vehicle nobody could quite figure out. The thing that required him to think.

He wasn’t satisfied simply knowing how to repair something.

He wanted to understand why it worked the way that it did, what caused it to fail, and what the machine was trying to tell him.

And if a new advanced scanner or tool came onto the market?

Well…

Jonny probably needed it.

His collection of tools and scanners became enormous, but to Jonny they weren’t merely tools. They were part of his craft.

He became a cornerstone of the team at Equity Auto— the person who helped when others struggled, shared what he knew, and made everyone around him better at what they did.

When Jonny could not be there as often, his absence was deeply felt.

Because he wasn’t simply good at his job. He mattered to the people he worked beside.

Stillness, Precision and Stoic

Jonny also developed a deep passion for long-range shooting. There was something about it that suited him— the precision, the discipline, the knowledge, and perhaps most of all, the stillness it demanded.

Over the years, he built a large collection and loved spending time in the desert shooting with his mom and friends.

Eventually, that passion became something more.

Stoic Bags.

The name took on a meaning none of us could anticipate. Jonny’s pain doctor would repeatedly describe him with the same word. Stoic. But stoic wasn’t only about what Jonny endured. It represented so much of who he already was–descipline, patience, precision, craftsmanship, loyalty and community. For Jonny, Stoic became about legacy. About honoring the people beside you. About building something that could continue beyond you.

A Custom Bad Bitch

Then came motorcycles. Jonny bought his first Harley-Davidson, a Fat Bob, and—as was typical for Jonny—once he discovered something he loved, there was no doing it halfway.

The Fat Bob was eventually upgraded to a Road Glide Special. And he lovingly referred to the Road Glide as “a custom bad bitch.”

Because of course he did. He loved riding with his friends, heading out toward Evanston and taking long rides through the canyons.

There was freedom there.

Man and machine.

Road and sky.

Friends beside him.

For someone whose hands spent so much of their life understanding machines, perhaps it makes perfect sense that some of his happiest moments came while riding one.

Thor, Vikings and the Soft Heart Beneath the Tattoos

Jonny loved his German Shepherd, Thor, and two cats, Lily and Tiger. He also loved tattoos. His body became a canvas for things that spoke to him. Norse Gods, Vikings, America, warriors and protectors. His last two tattoos were of Thor and a Viking shield maiden.

Looking back, perhaps none of that was accidental. Jonny was drawn again and again to the archetype of the warrior.

Not simply the warrior who fights. The warrior who protects. The guardian. The person who stands beside his people. And that was Jonny.

When the Warrior Was Asked to Fight

At 32 years old, Jonny’s life was confronted with something no young man should have to face.

He was diagnosed with a rare form of lung cancer. There are countless medical details that could be written about what followed. But cancer does not get to become the defining story of Jonny’s life.

It was something that happened to him. It was never who he was. Through treatments, appointments, procedures, uncertainty and pain, the people caring for him repeatedly witnessed the quality everyone who loved him already knew.

His courage. His endurance. His stoicism. He faced circumstances that would have broken many people, and somehow remained Jonny through it all.

On August 2nd, 2026, surrounded by love, Jonathan Franklin Nemanic transitioned to the next realm.

But that is not where his story ends. Because a life cannot be simply measured by the number of years between two dates.

A life is measured in what remains.

He remains in the technicians who know something today because Jonny once stopped what he was doing and showed them.

He remains in the canyon roads and the desert afternoons. In motorcycles rumbling to life. In the stillness before a long-range shot. In the tools his hands once held. In Thor. In Lily and Tiger. In tattoos and Vikings and shield maidens. In stories that will begin with: “Do you remember when Jonny…” and inevitably end in laughter.

He remains in every person who discovered what it felt like to be welcomed into his inner circle and suddenly realize they weren’t simply his friend anymore. They were family.

The River Continues

Jonny is survived by his loving mother, Tonya Dee; his aunts, Heather and Frankie; biological father, Todd Larsen; his sister, Thailund; Grandpa Dean, Grandma Maxine, Aunt Lori, Brett and the extraordinary circle of friends who became family and will carry his stories forward. He was preceded in death by his beautiful grandma, Sharon, and his father, Troy.

For those wishing to honor Jonny’s legacy, donations can be made to the ALK Positive Lung Cancer Foundation, supporting the community of people and families affected by the rare cancer Jonny faced.

Our family would also like to express profound gratitude to Kelly and Brent Valdez of Equity Auto. Equity Auto was more than a place where Jonny worked. It was a place where his extraordinary mind was valued, where his knowledge mattered, where the people he worked beside became part of his extended family.  As Jonny’s illness progressed and he was no longer able to work as he once had, Kelly and Brent never stopped making a place for him.

There are acts of kindness that are difficult to adequately repay or even put into words. What Equity Auto gave Jonny was more than financial support. They gave him dignity, security, loyalty, and the knowledge that he still belonged. They stood behind him when life became incredibly difficult. As Jonny’s mother, I will never forget that.

Kelly and Brent, thank you for taking care of my son when he needed people in his corner. Thank you for recognizing his value beyond what he could produce or how many hours he could work. And thank you for loving Jonny as part of the Equity Auto Family. Your kindness became part of his story.

Our family also extends our deepest gratitude to the emergency physician at Intermountain Medical Center in Murray who made certain that Jonny was completely free from pain. In one of the most unimaginable moments a mother can experience, her skill and compassion gave Jonny comfort, while also giving his mom the extraordinary gift of knowing he was peaceful. She will never forget what she did for Jonny.

A Celebration of Jonny’s Life

A memorial celebrating Jonny’s life will be held on Thursday, August 27th, 2026, from 6:00 – 8:00 PM at Starks Funeral Parlor, 3651 South 900 East, Salt Lake City, UT. Guests are encouraged to share stories and memories of Jonny.

Those who know Jonny are encouraged to come with their stories. Tell us about the rides. Tell us about the desert. Tell us about the impossible car problem he solved. Tell us something ridiculous he said. Tell us about the moment he showed up for you. Tell us how he made you laugh. Tell us how he made you feel. Because this gathering is not simply about saying goodbye. It is about remembering a life. A warrior. A guardian. A mechanic. A biker. A marksman. A son. A friend. A man with an intimidating exterior and an extraordinarily tender heart. A seriously good human being.

The Dagara teach us that water carries the mystery of arrivals and departures. And perhaps that is where we leave Jonny’s story for now. Not at an ending. At the river. Because love does not disappear when a body leaves us. It changes form. It moves through stories. Through memories. Through friendships. Through the lives that were changed simply because a person existed. The river continues. The ripple continues. And so does Jonny.

Jonathan Franklin Nemanic

March 21st, 1991 – August 2nd, 2026

Welcome to his saga.