Amesbury -John Ethan Burke “Jeb” Dubus, of Amesbury, formerly of Haverhill, an architectural designer, classical guitarist, painter, and carpenter, died on February 14, 2025 in Reading, Massachusetts.
Born in Oceanside, California on November 29, 1960, Mr. Dubus and his family moved often, living in southern California, Washington, Iowa, New Hampshire, and Massachusetts. As a young boy, Jeb played with imaginary characters he called “Gawgies”, often talking to them while also taking apart the family’s record player, TV, and window fans just to see how they worked. After his parents divorced when he was nine years old, he and his older brother would hike into the nearby woods and build tree houses, teepees, and lean-tos from pine branches they cut with a machete, water-proof structures that Jeb designed. He began to draw and to paint and soon discovered the work of classical guitarist Andreas Segovia. At age 12, by simply listening to Segovia’s albums in his room, Jeb began to teach himself how to play Bach preludes on his guitar. He attended Haverhill High School and rarely left the art department for other classes. Instead, he would sit in a janitor’s closet with his guitar for hours, perfecting those elusive classical chords.
After graduating from Haverhill High School in 1979, Mr. Dubus attended Bradford College in Bradford, Massachusetts, earning an Associates of Arts degree before leaving to help raise his newborn son. To support himself, Jeb worked construction where his natural gifts as a carpenter and builder soon showed themselves, and this became his living for many years, even while attending the New England Conservatory of Music ten years later where he studied and performed classical guitar.
In his 30s, Jeb became an expert cabinetmaker and home designer and founded his own business, John Ethan Burke Architectural Design. He married and had three more children and was the sole designer of his brother’s new home, which from 2002-2005 they built together with their own hands.
In his 40s, Jeb co-owned a factory building in Amesbury, Massachusetts and founded Amesbury Artworks, a non-profit whose mission was to teach art and music to people of all ages, especially those from under-served areas.
In his later years, Mr. Dubus became a passionate chef, an ardent reader of Bhuddhist monk, Thich Nhat Hanh, and an unwavering supporter of Bernie Sanders. But, most of all, Jeb was a loving and devoted father and grandfather who took great daily joy in his children’s and grandson’s interests and accomplishments.
Predeceased by his own father, Andre Dubus, of Lake Charles, Louisiana, Jeb is survived by his mother, Patricia Lowe Dubus of Newbury, Massachusetts, his children: Ethan Winters and his wife Lindsay and grandson Charlie, of North Andover; Nina Dubus, of Pittsburg, PA; Arlen Dubus, of Byfield; and Claire Dubus (and fiancé Edward DuClos) of Peabody; sisters Suzanne Dubus and her husband John Hauschildt, of Exeter, NH; Nicole Dubus, of Santa Cruz, CA; Cadence Dubus, of Brooklyn, NY; and Madeleine Dubus, of Los Angeles, CA; a brother, Andre Dubus III and his wife Fontaine of Newbury; and aunt Kathryn Dubus of Baton Rouge, LA, as well as several nieces, nephews, and cousins, all of whom will miss him dearly.
The Dubus family wishes to extend their gratitude to the caregivers and doctors that helped Jeb through his fight with his illness. In lieu of flowers, please consider a memorial donation to the Sawtelle Family Hospice House, 320 Haverhill St. Reading, MA 01867.
Family and friends are respectfully invited to a memorial gathering to celebrate Jeb’s life on Friday, February 21, 2025 from 4:00 PM until 7:00 PM. As part of the gathering, a service of prayer and reflection will be held at 6:00 PM at the Kevin B. Comeau Funeral Home, 486 Main St. Haverhill. Please visit Comeau Funeral Home on Facebook or www.comeaufuneral.com
Condolence(1)-
john harrison smolens says
February 18, 2025 at 10:52 amThe children would sing The Beatles’ “If I Fell” in the blue car they called Miranda.
Hard to believe, it was over a half century ago when Jeb’s father Andre and I shared the apartment in the old brick building overlooking Kimball Tavern and Bradford Square. I was a student at Boston College and Andre taught English at Bradford College (we met because my girlfriend was one of his students). Andre was recently divorced, and he needed a roommate. Our rent was $100/month, including utilities. To cover my share, I worked in the kitchen of a Haverhill restaurant. Andre’s four children visited the apartment regularly, and often we all went out to a restaurant, despite the fact that money was tight. Every outing seemed a wild adventure. All the children loved being around their father. None of them, it seemed, could stop talking (or shouting, or singing), and they could barely sit still. Andre once referred to them as puppies. At 21, I could not understand how a family could come apart the way it did. Decades later, I still can’t, but I know that it does all too often. The two boys, Jeb, and his older brother Andre III, were funny, noisy, driven by seemingly limitless energy. All the children joked and jested with each other, with their father, in a way that revealed joy, certainly, but also deep, abiding pain. There always was the realization that after the meal, after the car rides, after the banter and song, they would have to leave once again. They were together but on separate flights, to borrow a phrase from their father’s wonderful, sorrowful short stories. Jeb was the kind of kid who bumped into things, into his siblings, into life. Apparently, he never stopped. In reading his obituary, I was not surprised to learn that as an adult he turned to art and architecture, to Buddhist practice, to classical guitar. (I still have the guitar that I bought with summer house-painting money while in college, and I play just well enough to appreciate how difficult and extraordinary it is to learn the instrument by listening to Segovia records—it requires an analytic approach that goes well beyond dissecting a turntable.) Like his siblings, Suzanne, Andre III, and redheaded (like me, then) Nicole, Jeb brought unbridled love into his father’s life. On a winter’s night in Miranda, their young voices often came together and nailed the harmony of that beautiful song “If I Fell.”
My heart goes out to their mother Pat and to the entire Dubus family. Though my wife’s house is only a few blocks from Comeau’s Funeral Home, we are unable to be in Haverhill, due to a recent failure of the heating system, which has cause tremendous water damage. Though I will not be able to visit with Jeb’s family during the memorial ceremony, I send love and remembrance. God bless.
John Smolens