Jay L. Fox

Jay L. Fox: CPA, Veteran, Culinary Critic, Champion of the Rare Burger, and Eternal Protector, Passes Away at 88

Jay L. Fox—a man born in New York on December 15, 1937, who brought a lifetime of sharp wit, big heart, and legendary appetite to Colorado—passed away on August 5, 2026, in Lakewood, Colorado. Jay served his country proudly and never shied away from asking for his Veteran’s discount.

To call Jay a Certified Public Accountant is like calling the Grand Canyon a hole in the dirt. Yes, he understood the tax code better than the IRS itself, but Jay’s office was never just a place for balance sheets. It was a sanctuary of wisdom, an unofficial doughnut dispensary, and a refuge where a 23-year-old novice with no money could walk in and leave with a thriving business plan and a full belly. Jay didn’t just do taxes; he bartered, guided, and casually mentored generations of clients—many of whom followed him from office to office for over fifty years.

When clients walked into his office, they weren’t offered standard office coffee. Depending on the year, they were greeted by Jay devouring a tuna fish sandwich and asking “what the heck they wanted,” or they were handed a chocolate eclair alongside a Canfield’s Diet Chocolate Fudge soda—because Jay firmly believed that bad news about what you owed the government went down much better with chocolate.

He noticed what people liked, he remembered it, and he made sure there was always plenty. Whether it was arriving at the office declaring, “I got that roast beef you like,” or buying so many boxes of Girl Scout cookies that he’d be handing them out to clients, friends, and family for months, Jay fed everyone. But beyond feeding people, he protected them. Longtime colleague Kelly McDonald recalled that no one ever had to walk to their car alone in the dark late at night because Jay would stay until the very last person was ready to close up. One day, he simply walked into the office carrying eight flashlights—one for everyone on the team, just to make sure they were safe. That was Jay.

Outside the ledger, Jay was a self-appointed culinary authority. Under his not-so-secret nom de plume, “No More Mr. Nice Guy,” Jay embarked on a lifelong, epic quest for the perfect rare hamburger. He carefully compiled a coveted guide to his “Top 10 Burger Places.” If you were lucky, he’d share a copy with you, and every subsequent meeting would begin with a thorough interrogation about which ones you had visited. His dining habits were iconic—most notably his belief that a hamburger made an excellent dessert, provided it was followed by an actual dessert.

Back in the 1980s, Jay cruised around in a beautiful forest green Cadillac with long leather bench seats—and no required seatbelts. His stepdaughter Camille and her brothers would pile into the back, calling him “Raul,” and beg him to drive them around the neighborhood.  He would go around corners just fast enough that they all slid across that long bench seat to one-side squishing the person by the window and howled with laughter and ask him to turn the other way so they could squish the person on the other side.   On one famous trip, Jay offered to grab McDonald’s and asked what everyone wanted. Camille piped up, “Three Big Macs, please!” When Jay placed the order for three Big Macs and told the drive-thru worker that was all, Camille innocently chimed in from the back seat, “Aren’t you going to get the boys anything?” It became one of Jay’s absolute favorite stories to retell for the rest of his life.

Behind the quick wit was a man fiercely proud of his roots and his passions. He was an unapologetic, die-hard fan of THE Ohio State University, delighting in playful banter with his Nebraska-born daughters-in-law to remind them who was truly number one.

Above all, Jay lived for his family. He was the devoted husband of Georgia for 45 years, and a steady, unwavering father to Camille (Cory), Douglas (Brittany), and Jason (Stacia). But his absolute highest calling in life was being “Pa” to his six “almost perfect” grandchildren: Emma, Harper, Bryce, Carter, Grant, and Claire.

As Pa, Jay threw out all standard parenting rules. Who gives a child ice cream before breakfast? Jay L. Fox. Who spoils kids at every turn while traveling the country? Jay L. Fox. Every single grandchild grew up on his cherished “Pa-isms,” permanently etched in their memories: “Did you wash your hands?” and the affectionate tap on the nose asking, “Have you had a bop in the boop?”  and of course – “diet Pepsi; no ice, no straw”

Jay lived a full, vibrant, sweet-filled life, resting easy in the knowledge that he gave everything he had to the people he loved, leaving the world far better, safer, and much funnier than he found it.

Per Jay’s explicit wishes, no formal funeral service will be held, and he was cremated. A small, casual gathering to celebrate his life and share favorite “Jay stories” will be announced via CaringBridge. In lieu of sadness, go enjoy a rare burger, buy a flashlight for someone you love, and eat dessert first.