John Nolan, 83, witnessed Japan's surrender in WWII

AMONG THE highlights of John C. Nolan's accomplished life was the honor of watching the surrender of Japan on board the Battleship Missouri on Sept. 2, 1945.

"He was about 30 feet above the ceremony and could see the Allied and Japanese military officers as the surrender documents were signed," said his stepson, Michael Platton. "It was an experience he would always remember."

John Nolan, a longtime executive of the American Heart Association who later worked to help people with special needs through the city and the state, died Saturday of cancer. He was 83 and lived in Mount Airy.

Jack, as he was called by family and friends, spent most of his life helping the handicapped and disabled as an executive with the Pennsylvania Bureau of Vocational Rehabiltation and as a volunteer for the Mayor's Office for People with Disabilities.

He was also a generous friend and family member who helped people in dire circumstances, including a stepdaughter involved in a religious cult and a neighbor's son trapped in heroin addiction with no health insurance.

Combine that with numerous small deeds of generosity and a picture emerges of a man who would extend himself beyond the call of duty to help others.

He was also an inveterate writer of letters to newspapers, expressing his strong views on a variety of subjects, such as politics, world events and dogs that mess up the sidewalks.

Jack was born in Philadelphia to John Cyril and Mary Nolan. He graduated from La Salle High School and enlisted in the Navy in 1945.

The Pacific war was winding down, but as a signalman aboard the Missouri he experienced some dangerous encounters with the enemy before Japan's surrender.

The Missouri and other ships came under attack by Japanese kamikaze, or suicide, planes. On April 11, 1945, a kamikaze plane smashed into the Missouri, starting a fire, but did little damage.

After high school, Jack graduated from La Salle University and later earned a master's degree in administration from Temple University.

"He loved La Salle," his stepson said. "He always spoke highly of his Jesuit education."

Jack worked for the American Heart Association in New York City, commuting from his home in Philadelphia, for about 10 years.

"He loved Philly," Michael Platton said. "He wasn't about to move away."

Jack later ran Heart Association offices in Philadelphia.

He was a dedicated patron of the arts. He attended Philadelphia Orchestra concerts regularly, but also liked bebop and the music of Benny Goodman and Glenn Miller.

He was a fan of the plays of George Bernard Shaw, and he liked to attend the annual Shaw Festival in Niagara, N.Y.

After his war experiences, Jack was an avid reader of books on war and naval history, and biographies of Douglas MacArthur and Adm. William F. Halsey Jr., under whom he served in the Pacific.

Jack was a man of strong opinions. When President Reagan planned to visit a German military cemetery in France, he wrote to the Inquirer: "President Reagan again displays his appalling lack of knowledge of history."

In another letter, he hailed the courage of Polish workers protesting the abolition by the Communist government of the trade union Solidarity in the early '80s.

"From my accident of birth," he wrote, "I have an ancestor who served in the Continental Army, who, I'm sure, would have dangled from a British rope if we lost that war. These courageous Poles and our hard-nosed Yankees operated under the greatest of all political aphrodisiacs: A lust for freedom."

When Jack wrote a scathing letter about dogs who mess up the public sidewalks (after he'd stepped in a pile), he got a torrent of mail from animal lovers, but he stuck to his guns and wrote a second letter, signed "Dog Hater."

Jack was 47 when he married Renee Schneider, a mother of three. When her daughter, Hilary Thibodeaux, became involved with The Brethren, a nomadic Christian cult, Jack worked not only to free her from its grip, but wrote and spoke out extensively on the subject of cults and their influence on the young.

After Jack's death, Lore wrote a letter of condolence, "and credits Jack with saving his life," Michael Platton said.

When a niece who wanted a musical career ran into problems at home, Jack had a piano delivered to her house.

"He was a guy everyone could count on for help," his stepson said.

Besides his wife and stepson, he is survived by three sisters, Margaret Diehl, Nancy Marsey and Mary Quinn; two brothers, Richard and Robert; and another stepdaughter, Laura Platton.

Services: A memorial service will be arranged later.