When Jimmy Maniatis entered the room, everyone knew it, by his booming voice, the ear-piercing whistle through his teeth, or the nicknames he passed out freely to everyone in the room. His steady stream of wisecracks spewed forth like beer from a keg. His razor wit was side-splitting, sometimes painful.

He was the third and only son of Greek immigrants, Helen Vlahou and John Maniatis. His older brothers died at birth, but they all shared the same given name, Jimmy John Maniatis. At six, he started working at The New York Café, his parents' restaurant in Bryan, TX, and helped them there through high school. During football games, his father was known to jump up and yell, "That'sa my boy! Number feefty-seex!" He paid his way through college with money he made from the cigarette machine his dad installed in the restaurant and gave him during the war.

He didn't mince words. If you put on a few pounds, he was sure to note it – out loud – to everyone, "Hey, Slim!" His advice was solid if hard to swallow and often included the words "gotta perform," "so damn much talent" and "get off your ass."

If you wound up in jail or divorced, he was not only the first person you called, he was the one who always came, bailed you out and picked up the pieces, ordering you to keep going and never give up.

He made jewelry using the lost wax process he learned in dentistry and gave gifts to family and friends. Most were engraved with his dental drill, though sometimes a name was misspelled or initials jumbled. He'd shrug and smile, "Well, it's different. Nobody else'll have one like it." You may have seen the pick up truck he made out of an old Cadillac, tooling around town, and been amused by it, unless you were part of his family and had to ride in it. Different. Nobody else had one like it.

He was big on family, Jim Beam and Mr. Goodbars and could be found nightly in front of the TV with a bowl of ice cream. He spit Red Man and chewed cigars. He lit Roman Candles with his Travis Club Regalias during epic firework battles and aimed them at his daughters' boyfriends. He put four girls through college and hosted four big fat Greek weddings, never missed his Thursday tee-time with his standard foursome of dentists and came home every day and kissed his wife after work. He spent weekends and summers in Port Aransas, fishing, and often times, running aground, his family coast house, aptly named The Greek Typhoon.

He left silently to join the love of his life on Wednesday, in his sleep, the peace and quiet more deafening than all the years with his voice in the room. The void left by such a big presence feels too big to cross but can maybe be filled with time, family and friends, and the laughter that's born from the stories we share about his life. He was different. Nobody else'll have one like him.

See you in the funnies.

Born April 12, 1929 Bryan, Texas
Married to Georgia Phyllis Arhos 59 years,
Survived by daughters, Ellen Snowden & husband, Toby, Jo Anna Been & husband Bill, Dimi DeSantis & husband Rocco, Georgia Erck & husband Chris Erck, grandchildren Christine Snowden & wife, Angie Liuzza, Jimmy Don Snowden & wife, Sherry, Mary Helen Snowden, Jenny Frankowiak & husband, Steve, Ryan DeSantis & wife, Renae, Peter DeSantis, Eliot Erck, Muriel Erck, great granddaughter, Adyson Frankowiak. Graduated Bryan High School, lettering in football, basketball, baseball. Graduated Tulane University and University of Texas Dental School, Houston. Captain US Army Senior Dental Officer, Active Duty 1952-1956, Reserve 1956-1960. Memberships/Honors: American Dental Society, Texas Dental Society – Dentist of the Year, Saint Sophia Greek Orthodox Church – Pioneering partner of the Greek Funstival, Head Football Coach Howard Hornets

Monday, January 9, 2017
6:30 pm - Viewing
7:00 pm - Trisagion
Porter Loring Chapel

Tuesday, January 10, 2017
10 am – Funeral Service
Saint Sophia Greek Orthodox Church
2504 N. St. Mary's St.

In lieu of flowers donations may be sent to St. Sophia Greek Orthodox Church.

Interment in Sunset Memorial Park.