John Szabo

SZABO, John; Passed away peacefully surrounded by his family at Cambridge Memorial hospital in his 84th year. 31 years as the loving husband of Anne Kuzama. Cherished father of Linda Szabo & husband Wayne Ferris; Susan Miller & husband David Marchioni; and John Szabo. Grampa to Robin, Althea, Wayne, Whitney, David, Charlene and Samantha. Great Grampa to Ethan and Makaila. Uncle John to Donna & husband Mel, Sharon and their children Jeff & Julie, Chad & Janine, Kim & Murray and Jamie. Your Great Grandchildren Emily, Zack, Xander and Dylan will miss you “Judge”. Loving Aunt Helen is walking with you in heaven now. A successful inventor with multiple patents, an accomplished portrait artist and a loving man – you will be missed. Family and Friends will be received at the T. LITTLE FUNERAL HOME & CREMATION CENTRE, 223 Main Street, Cambridge (519-623-1290) on Thursday, December 8, 2011 from 9 am until the time of service at 11 am. As an expression of sympathy donations may be made to Canadian Cancer Society.

John Szabo – Eulogy given by daughter Susan Miller - Thursday Dec 8, 2011

Even though we are sad that my dad is no longer with us, I’d like to tell you the “John Szabo story” (the abridged version of his well-spent 83 years), as a way to kick off this occasion where we are celebrating his life.

Born in Budapest Hungary Mar 21 1928 His artwork, even as a child, received recognition nationally. As a young child he was also fascinated by electronics, building a radio from scratch. His talent for advanced electronic engineering was recognized in public school and he was invited to attend the best technical school in Hungary receiving the equivalent of an engineering university degree before he was 20 years old.

Dad spoke not only Hungarian and English but was also fluent in German and Russian. His ability to speak languages like a native often kept him out of trouble but it sometimes got him into trouble too.

His talent as an electronic engineer was very valuable to the Russians when they occupied Hungary after the second world war. This put him at risk, because he had to work past curfew. And when the Russians saw someone out after curfew they shot first and asked questions later. So Dad had to speak perfect Russian – and call out to them as though he was a Comrade – before they pulled the trigger.

Given these “hair-raising” circumstances every night - Dad decided to escape Hungary with his Aunt Helen’s family in 1948, including my cousin Peter – who is in the chapel today. Aunt Helen, Peter’s mother was only 10 yrs older than my Dad, and she was like a sister and a mother to him – they were very close.

When he arrived in Austria, it was a serious offense for anyone to employ an escaped Hungarian, but he was able to obtain a job as a native Austrian because he spoke the German language with an Austrian dialect so well.

From Austria he emigrated to Canada but was required to work on a farm for at least a year. So dad, the skilled electronic engineer worked on his great uncle’s tobacco farm, and this time his knack for languages got him into trouble. Dad would only speak words in a language when he could say them perfectly. A few days after arriving in Canada, Dad was working on the farm and a man stopped his car and asked my Dad for something (probably directions). My Dad replied in perfect English with no accent. “I’m sorry but I don’t speak English”. At which point the man got louder and louder and angrier and angrier – because he simply couldn’t believe my father didn’t speak the language.

Dad met my mother Donna at the restaurant where he would order 3 hotdogs every night for supper. (the only Canadian food he could eat and afford). They moved to Windsor to raise their family of 3 children – Linda, John and myself – but also invited my Uncle Jack to live with us for a while. And Jack credits my father with giving him valuable guidance that helped him at a key point in his life.

Dad became one of the founders of Bernhardt’s Electronics in Windsor – developing all of the electronic circuits for their new innovation “the electronic piano” – which was a brand-new concept in the 50s.

Even while fully-employed dad always had a major innovation or portrait painting “on the go” in the evenings and weekends.

Dad made a telescope from scratch, even grinding the lenses himself, which meant that Linda, Johnny and I were truly lucky children in 1958 to be able to see the craters of the moon and the rings of Saturn from our own back yard. Dad in his retirement years would continue to build many other innovative telescopes – with patentable features.

Dad was a religious man even though he didn’t attend church regularly. When I was 6, on Easter morning after reading the bible to us, Dad was inspired to paint a lovely 5 foot by 4 foot portrait of Christ praying in the garden of Gethsemane, which he donated to the Hungarian Church in London.

In the mid-1950s Dad also personally built (with the help of my mom’s brothers) an in-ground swimming pool and patio area in our backyard so that my mother, who had a mastectomy from breast cancer would be able to relax by the pool in privacy without worrying about her scars.

In 1960, Dad moved to the KW area and as an electronic development engineer at Electrohome, he developed all of the electronic components for their new line of organs and later developed the electronics for their complete line of high-end audio components, filing many patents in audio technology.

And in his spare time - at home he developed and patented the technology for the touch lamp with variable lighting levels – which is still in the market 50 years later.

In 1976 my mother Donna passed away and after this difficult time, my father, with the help of Aunt Helen recognized that alcohol had become a problem in his life and with firm resolve, never took another drink.

Dad then formed his own company – Szabo Audio and developed many unique speaker systems and enclosure designs selling them across Canada.

A true renaissance man – dad was not only a very talented development engineer but a gifted portrait artist who was commissioned to do many portraits.

In 1980 Dad met Anne – his wife of the past 31 years, and was glad to have his family extended with the addition of Anne’s children Donna and Sharon and their families. Both Dad and Anne’s families have grown to include cherished grand children and great grandchildren some of whom refer to Anne and Dad as “GG” and the Judge. Anne was not only his soul mate but also a strong partner, often helping him in his business.

He retired and lived a quiet and contented life with Anne in Cambridge and in Florida –but would “break-out” on occasion - dancing the night away – and with travels to distant places. I remember one night in Spain when Dad and Anne started dancing at midnight – and didn’t stop until 4am. It was all we could do to drag them back to the villa.

Never one to sit idle, Even in retirement Dad continued to develop innovative products including a lens that enabled him to lay in bed and watch TV programs projected on the ceiling, and he also continued to paint many lovely portraits, specializing in paintings of grand children commissioned by grand-parents.

Dad had emphysema in his final years – and would joke that when he and Anne walked together she would “run circles around him” and lap him several times. The loving care of Anne added years to my father’s life for which he and his family are very grateful.

When I was helping arrange nursing care for Dad in these last weeks – I referred to Anne as my mother – upon hearing this Anne said – “so now I have another daughter – does that mean that you will do what I say?” To which I replied with a twinkle in my eye – “about as much as your other adult daughters”.

Dad had a gentle sense of humor. Even after the diagnosis of his stage 4 lung cancer, and suffering from a painful broken hip in hospital and waking only infrequently – one of his grandchildren said (and I quote here) his condition is far worse than I hoped, but when he does wake up – he’s still Grampa – and being bit of a goof.” With every medical procedure or interaction with his nurses he would say something that made us all smile.

I would like to read a poem about Fathers that I think sums up a lot about my dad:

Father – by anonymous (edited slightly)

A Father growls when he feels good, and laughs when he’s scared half to death.

A Father never feels worthy of the worship in a child’s eyes.

He’s never quite the hero his daughters think, never quite the man his son believes him to be, and this worries him, sometimes.

So he works too hard to try and smooth the rough places in the road for those who will follow him.

A father is concerned when the school grades aren’t as good as he thinks they should be and scolds his son, though he knows it’s the teachers fault.

Fathers give daughters away to other men who aren’t nearly good enough, So that they can have grandchildren that are smarter than anybody’s.

I don’t know where a Father goes when he dies. But I’m pretty sure that after a good well-deserved rest, he won’t just sit on a cloud and wait for those he loved.

He’ll be busy there too, creating new innovative things, repairing the stairs, fixing the gate, and improving the place with a little art.

Smoothing the way for those who will join him later.