Jack Cassidy was born in Port Hueneme, California, where his father served as an officer in the U.S. Navy. His dad’s Navy career took the family from coast to coast. During Jack’s teens, they lived in Coronado, California, and Jack led his high school math team to a state championship. He went on to receive a BA in math from Cornell University. An early interest in the new field of computer science led to an engineering career at Hewlett-Packard and other companies.
Jack’s wide-ranging curiosity included a lifelong fascination with the mathematics of poker. He wrote two papers on poker that were published in academic journals. After he retired at age 60, he studied bioinformatics (using computer technology to analyze genome data) and volunteered with a research project at UCSD. His work led to a paper published in Nature.
Jack was also a gifted writer. His first major publication was a book of humorous short stories titled “Winning at Poker and Games of Chance” (West Coast Poetry Review Press, 1977). In retirement, he became a playwright. His play “Border Grill” was staged by Scripps Ranch Theatre, and several other plays were given staged readings.
In a powerful personal monologue that he performed at Diversionary Theater in San Diego, he shared that he had struggled all his life with shame about being non-binary but was now ready to present himself to the world as his full self—both Jack and Sarah. (Jack continued to use “he.”)
At 24, Jack met his bashert, Janice Steinberg, author of ‘The Tin Horse’ and other novels. He embraced Janice’s Jewish faith, and a great joy near the end of his life was receiving the Jewish name Sarah Yankel. He is survived by Janice; his siblings Ginny Cassidy-Brinn, Anne Cassidy, Bill Cassidy, and Paul Cassidy; and adoring nieces and nephews.
During the 16 months after Jack was diagnosed with advanced prostate cancer, he inspired everyone who knew him with his positive attitude and willingness to give people a chance to help. He recruited friends for an ER squad to spare Janice the strain of repeated emergency room visits. He dubbed chemotherapy session “Infusion Camps,” inviting friends to come hang out with him. When he had to use crutches because of bone metastases, he danced with them.
The week before his death, Jack had a dream come true: a staged reading at La Jolla Playhouse of his play about AI and human relationships, “Counterfactual Regret.”
