Thursday, June 07, 2007

Dante’s Prayer
by 
Loreena McKennitt

When the dark wood fell before me
And all the paths were overgrown
When the priests of pride say there is no other way
I tilled the sorrows of stone
I did not believe because I could not see
Though you came to me in the night
When the dawn seemed forever lost
You showed me your love in the light of the stars
Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me
Then the mountain rose before me
By the deep well of desire
From the mountain of forgiveness
Beyond the ice and the fire
Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me
Though we share this humble path, alone
How fragile is the heart
Oh give these clay feet wings to fly
To touch the face of the stars
Breathe life into this feeble heart
Lift this mortal veil of fear
Take these crumbled hopes, etched with tears
We’ll rise above these earthly cares
Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me


“The Book of Secrets” (1997)

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

Thomas


John David Thomas, 1951-2007

After meeting randomly on the fourth floor of the BAC, it was Krista (Blaikie) Hughes who introduced me to the inner workings of the Acadia History Society and to John Thomas. Not knowing who he was, or much about him at all, I initially thought his first name was “Thomas,” which subsequently provided fodder for teasing over the years. He was henceforth christened “Thomas” and I was awarded (or allowed) sole custody of addressing him in such a manner.

Along with Aaron, Jennifer, Pearl, I took three courses with Thomas while at Acadia. He was also the faculty supervisor of the history society so for two years, I was under his direction when it came to the planning and carrying out of the history society’s participation in the annual homecoming parade. By “participation,” I mean: Thomas would come up with a theme. I would go to the drama department to borrow costumes. I would then beg, threaten and produce tears if necessary to convince my friends and fellow students to go on the float. By “float,” I mean a flatbed trailer that a local farmer out of the goodness of his heart would volunteer and then use his tractor to pull through the main, and only street in Wolfville.




Acadia History Society Floats, 1995 and 1996

The sad thing is that Thomas had so much to do with all those floats and there are few if any photos to document his participation as he took all the photos! I can see him now, wearing his red sweatshirt, blue ball cap and khaki pants, running alongside the float as it was paraded through Wolfville, with a minimum of at least three cameras around his neck (usually mine, his and Kristas)! If it wasn’t for him, nothing would have been undertaken – or documented. Nobody fell off, the history society won first prize for best float three years in a row and I now realize I would never have undertaken such a feat without the direction, encouragement and orders from Thomas. Thank you Krista for starting me down that path.


Acadia is a small campus, with a small student population, set in Nova Scotia’s picturesque Annapolis Valley. Having grown up in rural PEI, this atmosphere was not completely foreign to me: but the university environment was. I am a first generation university graduate in my family. The university atmosphere was therefore initially a completely foreign, at times bewildering, and sometimes a lonely place for me. Thomas sensed this and he gave me a lot of guidance. He used to give me lists of movies to watch, lists of books to read, and endless, endless advice. He knew I needed it. That was the beauty of Acadia. Small classes meant you got to known your Professors. He was one of the few professors who came to our graduation ceremony, sat there beaming as we crossed the stage to get our degrees, met our parents at the reception afterwards and had pictures taken with us.

I spent a lot of time in his office on the fourth floor of the BAC chatting, laughing and exchanging stories – especially in my fourth year when I was procrastinating in writing my thesis. He always seemed to have an indefinite amount of time – for all of us. He loved nothing more than a good story and you knew when you delivered a good one when he did the characteristic slap on the knee, always followed by heartfelt laughter.

Over the years I kept in touch with Thomas via letters, email, Christmas cards, the odd telephone call. In the fall of 2005, I moved to Toronto and for the first time in almost ten years, we finally had a reunion. Thomas had relocated back to Toronto to teach at Upper Canada College (UCC). That fall, Jason Crowtz (fellow Acadia Hist. Hons ’96 grad) and I had two sessions with Thomas, both of which consisted of a beer swilling, knee slapping and laughter-filled stroll down memory lane. We planned to get together early in the New Year and I very much looked forward to such future sessions. Sadly, it never happened.

On the 20 December 2005, Thomas was diagnosed with cancer – on his tongue. After successful (but invasive) surgery, Thomas underwent chemo, radiation, as well as speech therapy. He was not able to have visitors so Jason and I wrote letters and emails, often accompanied by an original Jason cartoon depicting some of the sadder facets of our mundane lives. It made him laugh and that seemed to be all he wanted.

I was away all last summer so I did not get to see Thomas until this past fall. Once again, it was Krista who brought us together. A visit from Krista and Tammy prompted another reunion. Thomas was thinner and visibly altered from his year long battle, but it was still the same old Thomas – and it was great to see him. Sadly it would be the last. In November doctors confirmed that his cancer had returned. He waited until after the holidays and on the 2nd of January emailed us to tell us his condition was terminal. On the 14 March 2007, he died peacefully in his sleep at his parent’s home; sixteen days shy of his 56th birthday.

Before he died, Thomas decided he did not want the traditional wake and funeral. Instead, he opted for an old fashioned variety show, “when laughter came easily.” Amazingly enough, he organized the entire show himself in the last months of his life. He asked Tammy, Krista and I in February if we would contribute a short presentation on the antics surrounding the history society’s homecoming floats. On the 18th of May, family, friends, students and colleagues of Thomas gathered at UCC in Toronto for the variety show in his memory. We were one of over twenty acts that day that featured every facet of his life. Presentations were made by family, including one by John’s brother Steve that included childhood and college photos of Thomas that few of us had ever seen. Other chapters of his life represented in the presentations included memories from his camp counseling days, the baseball team he played with, UCC students, UCC colleagues with hilarious stories from Thomas’ involvement with the football team, as well as college friends and colleagues. I laughed a lot more then I thought I would and I think Thomas would have been pleased with how the day unfolded. The variety show was followed by a buffet meal and drinks – all on John. It was a chance for all of us, from various aspects of his life, to come together and share stories, as well as make and renew old friendships.



Acadia history grads:
Tammy Windsor ('94), Julia Kinnear ('93), Krista Hughes ('94), Juanita Rossiter ('96) and Jason Crowtz ('96)


The history gang with Professor Rob Morrison, now at Queen's University, but a good friend and colleague of John's while at Acadia.

Next week, I will be walking across the stage of convocation hall at U of T and I will be thinking about Thomas. Although it was now over ten years ago, I can see him sitting there at Acadia’s UHall, like it was yesterday, one familiar face among all the academic robes, smiling, camera in hand. There is hardly a day passes that I don’t think about him and the impact that he has had on my life. I miss him, but most of all, I am grateful for having known him. He was a great teacher. He was my friend.


Acadia History Grads 1996