Dad (left) and Jack with the family bulldog, probably in Kimberley, B.C., c. 1938. Jack would go on to serve in the Navy in the war, on a destroyer in the North Atlantic. They were close but their father would tear them apart by leaving half his estate outright to my father, while placing the other half in trust for Jack’s children, assuming he settled down.
I was with Uncle Jack when
he died. He told me that in
the end all that matters is
family. My Dad was there,
but remained stoic the entire
time. Not a tear. Death was
just something that men of
his generation knew.