William Robert David Jones 1922-2012
Eulogy by David Jones

Thank you for joining us to celebrate my father’s life.

My sisters Shirley and Barbara and I were shocked at dad’s sudden passing – as I’m sure many of you were – but he lived a long, happy and healthy life right up until the end, and for that we are grateful.

Dad was one of those rare members of the Quebec anglophone community who were born and bred in Montreal and, for the most part, spent their entire lives here. The one exception for Bill was the seven-year period he lived and worked in Calgary, in the middle of a long career with CPR, as the paymaster for the railway’s Western Region.

My sister Shirley was born during that period, and forty-one years later my daughter Emma – dad’s only grandchild – was born in Calgary, too. So he had strong connections to the West as well as to the East.

His stint in the West may have influenced his political views, which always leaned to the conservative side. It was funny for us because dad was a Tory supporter, while mom was a Liberal. We would hear all about the relative merits of Mr. Stanfield and Mr. Trudeau, and then when election time rolled around, mom and dad would head off to the polling station knowing full well that their votes would effectively cancel one another out.

Dad’s parents emigrated from Britain one hundred years ago, in 1912, which made him an ardent anglophile and a big fan of all things to do with the British monarchy.

He was an only child and, as a result, learned to amuse himself when necessary with his many hobbies and personal interests: stamp and coin collecting, puzzle and problem solving, tracing the family tree, and following all of the major sports teams and sporting events.

Though he loved to travel – and over the years he introduced us kids to the wonders of rail travel and “camping out” in CP Hotels – he liked his daily routine, as well, and he especially liked to have his meals on a fixed schedule.

Dad was always a thin man with a modest appetite, except when it came to desserts. Mom’s cakes and particularly her pastries were his absolute favorites, and he frequently lamented when yet another pie headed out the door on its way to the church. He always said he was hiding the chocolates and other goodies so mom wouldn’t overindulge, but we eventually figured out that he was just creating stashes all around the house that he could raid at will.

Away from home, dad spent most of his time at church or participating in events with church friends. Mom and dad met each other at church, at Young People’s Club. I’m sure that over the years, dad served on every United Church committee and participated in every United Church social club that existed.

That doesn’t mean that he didn’t have time for us, though. He loved to pile the whole family in the car to go see the Christmas lights, or take a drive to visit relatives in the country, or go to see the animals in the zoo. Dad had a special relationship with animals, and could often be found communing with the family cats and budgies, my sisters’ dogs, or even a neighborhood squirrel. 

He taught me how to play chess and throw a baseball and, of course, he got us all through the trials and tribulations of learning to ride a bicycle. He even tried to teach Barbara to drive a car, but her subsequent life as a transit user is perhaps an indication that he couldn’t do everything.

Dad himself was thirty-four before he drove a car. It was 1956. We had just arrived in Calgary from Montreal; and he bought a brand new Hillman Minx (if you can remember what those were). Of course, most of his driving was done in La Belle Province, so he drove like a true Quebecer: he never met a stop sign he couldn’t roll through at five miles per hour. But he never had an accident.

In his job at the railway, he was widely respected for his diligence, reliability and thoroughness.

He spent a few years during the Second World War with the RCAF and was fortunate enough to be assigned to Iceland, where he helped to look for submarines while flying over the North Atlantic shipping lanes. But letters to his parents emphasized how much he wanted to get back home and return to a normal work routine. “That would be swell,” he wrote.

As kids, we were always impressed by his enormous office, especially in Calgary where he had wall-to-wall, red carpeting and we could watch the Stampede Parade from the window. At the time, dad and his staff were responsible for getting out more than 50,000 pay cheques to CPR employees, every other week.

When he retired, one of his office buddies quipped that dad was so conscientious about getting his job done and not wasting company time that he never even saw him go for a pee.

Dad’s many interests and enthusiasms made him an encyclopedia of knowledge – and a bit of a nut for compiling statistics, making lists and keeping records. He was a whiz at math and often helped family, friends and several organizations with their accounting.

The one thing that bothered him about getting old was not having his usual instant recall of all of these things any longer.

Dad loved going to the movies and keeping track of the stars’ personal lives. He was always into music, introducing us kids at an early age to big bands and show tunes, as well as the pop songs of Elvis and Neil Sedaka. In turn, he took an active interest in our records of the Beatles, Madonna and his favorite radio band: ABBA.
Sure, we gave him a hard time now and then. Like the times when he’d have to get out of bed in his pajamas to tell Barbara to stop kissing with her boyfriends in the driveway. Or the time when I was sixteen and headed off to a small, three-day music festival in Bethel, New York. It got a little bigger than expected, and maybe became a bit of a disaster area, but that didn’t stop him from goading mom with: “I wonder where your boy is sleeping tonight?”

I don’t think Shirley gave him quite as much worry, perhaps because she shares many of his character traits. He was very fortunate, and I know he was grateful, to have her and her husband Gary close at hand for the last years of his life – to do puzzles with, complain about politics and the weather to, and to look after his well being.

It would be difficult to find anybody who didn’t consider dad to be a gentleman. He rarely cussed. If you did something silly, you were a hambone; if you did something stupid or mean, you were a so and so.

He was devoted to his family and his church. He was empathetic and cared deeply for those in less fortunate circumstances. He may not have been overly keen about the FLQ, the language police and global terrorists, but, hey, nobody’s perfect.

He had no greed and no pretension.

He was a good man.

We love him and we will miss him.

May happy and fond memories of your father provide you peace and comfort in the days and weeks ahead.  Bill will be sadly missed at Valois United as we all knew where to sit in relation to him.  My deepest sympathy to you all.

Dear Barbara, Shirley and David and all your grieving family, this is a message of sympathy, of comfort and of caring from May & Malcolm Young who knew your family at Southminster United Church in Calgary, Alta and for many years at Valois United Church in Pointe Claire. We are in Ottawa now but we were with you all in spirit at the Funeral Service this morning, Your  Mom and Dad were devoted and gave so much of themselves to their Church and to the community at large. It is always a pleasure to recall the kindly ways of your Dad, which he  passed on to the family. We will always remember your family and want you to know that you are all in our thoughts and prayers.  With love, May & Malcolm Young

Dear Barbara,
Though I never had the opportunity to meet your father Bill, you spoke of him with such respect, fondness and love that I know your dad would have found a special place in my heart too.  My deepest sympathies to you and your family.

May your hearts soon be filled with wonderful memories of joyful times together as you celebrate a life well lived.

Love and hugs,
Daintry

I knew Bill, but worked more closely with Dave, at CP. Like father, like son. Please accept our heart-felt condolences.

My sincerest condolences to the family. You are in my thoughts and prayers.

My deepest condolences to the family.  I have fond memories of him being one of the nicest person to work for.

My heartfelt condolences to Barbara, Dave, Shirley and all friends and family of Mr. Bill Jones, at this time of loss. May you be comforted by the many memories of so many years of a fulfilling, loving life he lived and shared with those he loved. My thoughts and prayers are with you at this time.

We are very sorry to hear about the loss of Bill. He had a very long life which is something to celebrate. The two of us bowled with Bill and Grace for many years in the Lakeside Heights Bowling League. We always thought he had a wicked curve to his ball.

Please accept our deepest condolences.

Terry Paton and Rich Davies

Dear Barbara, David and Shirley,
We are so very sorry to hear about your father. Our hearts are with you and your family during this very difficult time. Please accept our deepest condolences.
Sincerely, Judy and Oliver

OBITUARY

William Jones

6 February, 1922 – 5 February, 2012

Résidences funéraires Collins Clarke MacGillivray White Funeral Homes

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