Jane Gannaway Young

Jane Gannaway Young passed peacefully at her home in Birmingham, Alabama on September 8, 2020. A life-long Alabamian of 94 years and a fierce Bama Football fan (RTR!), Jane’s energy, love, and light always stole the show.

Jane was born in October 1925 in Anniston, Alabama to Tillman and Mary Francis Gannaway, another beloved matriarch who lived well into her 90s. She grew up the third of four sisters: Virginia, Elizabeth, Jane, and Tommy. At the age of 23, Jane met and married her husband of 65 years, James (“Jim”) Young, a veteran of the U.S. Navy who later became a nuclear engineer. As Jim climbed the ranks at Alabama Power (eventually becoming Vice-President of Production), Jane looked after her two young children, Paula and Tom. Both of Jane’s kids had inherited her exuberance and sense of mischief. Whether driving into a neighborhood mailbox while lighting a cigarette (Paula) or sneaking down the roof of the family’s carport to play basketball during study time (Tom), they needed a bit of reigning in. As her children grew older, Jane returned to school to obtain a master’s degree at University of Alabama, reigning in other mischievous minds as a third grade teacher.

After retiring in the early 1980s, Jane and Jim took on new endeavors, the most cherished of which seemed to be their role as grandparents (or “Nana” and “Daha” as the grandkids called them). While many of their contemporaries were winding down, Jane and Jim were ramping up. They took road trips across the country, bought a twin-engine powerboat, and spent fun-filled weekends at their condo in Perdido Key (with their children Paula and Tom, in-laws Dan and Amy, and four grandkids Nathan, Sarah Jane, Sally, and Emily). Jane’s energy and spunk seemed everlasting. She played golf with women half her age and shot a hole-in-one on her 81st birthday. She convinced her granddaughter Sarah Jane to get her ears pierced when no one else could, and still cracked herself up telling the occasional dirty joke (only in private of course).

Jane was a nurturer by nature. She wasn’t an avid cook, but she could push a half-a-turkey-sandwich on you like nobody else. Us grandkids will always remember her annual birthday-song voicemails, shopping trips to the mall, and falling asleep while she scratched our backs. During Jane’s later years living at Brookdale University Park, Jim also needed a little extra nurturing and reigning in. Nana was the only one who could stifle his disinhibited comments about those he thought might be gaining a few pounds. For Jane, all it took was a stern look and a single word—"Jim”—although it should be noted that the tone of this utterance cannot adequately be captured in print.

Jane’s strength and stability were coupled with an infectious energy. While the strongest among us tend to grow old gracefully, few families are blessed with the joy of seeing their Nana rock out to top-40 radio in her sporty white Cadillac or out-dance a crowd of thirty-somethings at her grandson’s wedding. Jane’s love for those around her was both the source and the focus of her energy…and you knew it every time you saw her. Most times, she got so excited that she couldn’t help but squeeze your hand, pat your back, or pinch your bottom just a little too hard. That was how Nana loved on you. It was a rite of passage for us kids and grandkids, but it could also be showered upon an unsuspecting friend, Brookdale resident, or fellow worshiper at Canterbury United Methodist Church. No matter where she went, Jane’s energy, love, and light stole the show. She was our one-and-only, but we are grateful to have watched this very special lady love—and be loved by—so many others. Darn this stupid pandemic, but a fitting celebration of Jane’s life and love will be held in one year’s time.