Owen Page was one of the good guys. No, he was one of the great guys.
In an industry often seen in a “Mad Men”-like light—full of charlatans, scandals and overpromises—Owen was one of the most caring, honest, hard-working souls we’ve ever come across. He cared.
Owen’s career spans from the Atlanta Journal Constitution to Henderson Advertising to Erwin-Penland to here at Jackson for the last four years. Not once did Owen complain, even after working months on a particular parts-naming project based in Excel that was the equivalent of herding cats in a tornado full of sharks. He knocked it out like a pro, just as he did on every other project he worked on—from TV to radio to digital ads.
He loved cycling. He loved fiction. He loved his Tarheels. And he didn’t care much for Mike Krzyzewzki. Yes, we just spelled Coach K’s name incorrectly, which would amuse Owen very much, we think.
We’re going to miss Owen’s laugh. We’re going to miss his gentle voice of reason, which was needed in times of chaos. (Most every day in marketing.) And we’re going to miss his hilarious quips that he would attach to every single job he put through the system. Why didn’t he just hit SEND and say, “Copy is done?” Because he was full of life. And because he wanted to make everyone smile just a little. Quite often, a lot.
We’re all very shocked at Owen’s passing. Just three weeks ago, he was standing in the hallway selling Jordan Fretz on the brilliancy of the dialogue in “Deadwood.” Too soon after, we lost him.
We think Owen would most likely say to not take any second for granted, to treat everyone with respect and grace like he did, to get outside and find a cause to rally around, and to feel free to misspell Coach K’s name as much as you like.
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