Once at the church, Kirkpatrick sets his thoughts on projects that have busied his hands for the past 30 years. He started in the 1970s helping to build the present St. John’s overlooking a choppy ocean front from Ohlson Lane. Through the years, he built pews of mahogany and oak, fashioned special bathroom cabinets and did carpentry tasks so numerous it would take an itemized listing to name them all.

Lately he’s painted the interior and stained the trim inside the church. His volunteer commitment amounts to three to four hours a day, even though he suffers from cancer.

Last weekend, Kirkpatrick was honored by St. John’s in a community potluck after Mass. The church kitchen is now to be named in his honor, with a plaque announcing his many contributions.

Sister Carol Ann Aldrich, church administrator, says he seldom misses a day, five days a week, rain or storm.

“I have two speeds these days,” he likes to tell people. “Slow and slower.”

Yet, he’s managed to get a lot done at St. John’s in the course of more than 30 years.

“I’m a painter-paper hanger by trade. In that trade, you have to learn to be a carpenter, too, because often you have to build something before you can paint it,” he said, showing the floor design of the basement. This formed the original St. John’s before the upstairs was built.

He installed the kitchen appliances and cabinets, deciding a huge island in the middle would best suit church functions. Oak and mahogany banisters are his handiwork, porches and entryways, as well as the signs painted by his own steady hand in bold Gothic font at various church buildings. Once he set his hand to labeling the Reconciliation (confessional), but forgot one of the “I’s.”

That struck him as a funny mistake — leaving an “I” out of reconciliation. So in his shop, that sign hangs on the wall along with other word puns. He also keeps a sturdy pine coffin in his tidy work shed.

“In case someone needs it,” he said. “You never know when someone might not be able to afford one.”

Kirkpatrick’s work ethic motivates him to keep busy, he said. Not too long ago, his wife Aileen died. The two had met and married in 1971 in Homer and built a home overlooking McNeil Canyon 12 miles out on East End Road. Four or five years ago, they sold their home and moved to town for health reasons.

It was Aileen, an Australian and lifelong Catholic, who brought John Kirkpatrick into the fold though he never formally converted.” He still likes to tell people: “I’m not a Catholic, but I’m the next best thing. I married one.”

Kirkpatrick was raised in the Minnesota-Wisconsin area and came to Homer in 1960. He worked as a painting contractor for the next 40 years.

A 30-some year volunteer job at St. John’s might sound extraordinary, but Kirkpatrick said it was easy because “there’s always something that needs to be done here.”

It’s true Kirkpatrick leaves his mark on most all areas of St. John’s. Yet Kirkpatrick readily admits working on St. John’s also rubs off on him.

“I think the man upstairs takes care of me,” he said. He points out his favorite saint, St. Joseph, in the front of the church, as if he’s studied the statue during his time fixing pews and painting walls.

“St. Joseph never aggravated anyone. He always got along. Yet he didn’t get much mention in the Bible,” Kirkpatrick said. “After all, he was the husband of Mary. I just learned the other day that though he was supposed to be a carpenter, they didn’t have much in the way of wood. It was mostly stone. So Joseph, look at his few tools.”

Sister Aldrich, administrator at St. John’s which has no resident priest, said she’s tried through the years to pay Kirkpatrick for some of the work. “But he won’t take a dime.”

She calls him a perfectionist and said she doesn’t see how the parish could have made it without his helping hands and lifetime of training.

After radiation and chemotherapy treatments, Kirkpatrick has cancer that continues to spread in him. He won’t let this stop him from walking down Pioneer Avenue each morning to St. John’s.

“Me and the man upstairs, we have an understanding. I like to stay active,” he said, as he closes the door to the church. Stepping outside to a porch he built, he automatically glances up assessing the roof.

“Look at that,” he said, as if to himself. “There’s two light bulbs I’m going to have to replace.”