In Celebration of the Life and Memory of My Most Longest Standing Friend
Doug Stephens
Greetings to all of us who are here to celebration the life of Doug Stephens.
For those of you who do not know me, my name is Tom Kinnear. Doug and I became friends in second grade at John Wanless School the corner of Greer and Farlaine in north Toronto. His home on Elm Road was the limit of the distance my parents allowed me to walk from our home on Melrose. How lucky I was to be a part of his life for over 75 years.
A few months ago, Doug asked me to share some reflection at the celebration of his life. I told him that I would rather we were able to play some more golf together. I am honored that Doug asked me. I could tell many-many stories of Doug, but must restrict myself here.
(Unfortunately, I am unable to share my reflections in-person. I am in the beginning phases of recovering from hip replacement surgery and am unable to do any traveling. I want to thank Bruce Armstrong, Doug’s and my mutual friend for presenting my reflections, combined with his own.) Note: on the day of the funeral Bruce was unable to attend so his and Tom's remarks are recorded here.
First, I want to extend my very deeply held feelings to Doug’s family: Anne, Andrea, Wendy, Mark, Danny, and Deanna, and to his grandchildren. He loved his family deeply as our conversations always began and ended with his family.
Second, I will just note a few stories of events that Doug’s and I shared. Hopefully, this will give you insights into his rich character that was present even in the early days.
Of course, I must comment about golf. My lifelong objective was to ever beat Doug in golf. I must confess that it never happened. I was delighted to play a supporting role. In 11th grade, Doug asked me to be his caddy in the Ontario Junior Open. This was one of the best and worst days we spent together. The worst part was that it was 36 holes (8 hours) in a steady rain. Playing golf in the rain is just pain awful. The best was that I spend the day with Doug, where he showed his great character in his persistence to fight through the rain and the calmness that he manifested in the chaos There was never a bad word or complaint from him.
Doug and I also had a forced visit to Principal Bailey’s Office at Lawrence Park Collegiate. We had concluded that we were much better at math and science than playing a music instrument. So, after two years of futility in the band, we decided to drop music as an option. We were both honor students and did not need the credit. Then, suddenly, we were summoned to the Principal’s Office and told that we needed to take honors geography if we dropped music. I am glad that Doug was with me, as he was calm and accepting of the “injustice” that we were being forced to absorb. Together, we learned all the rivers, cities, and mountains of Russia in Mr. Chick’s class. Impossible without sharing it all with Doug, who was supportive and calm.
In another situation, I vividly remember being at Doug’s home when his dog became ill. There was Doug down on the floor, giving relief and comfort to his dog. This is just one instance where Doug showed his deep caring and compassionate nature.
In grade 13 my parents move to a home about five blocks north of Doug’s home on Elm Road. My travels to school were based on walking to Doug’s home and then the two of us hitchhiked to school. If no one gave us a ride, we walked the 12 blocks together. What a great bonding experience. We shared our hopes for escaping grade 13 and attending college. We were almost classmates again at UT Engineering, but I opted for Queen’s Economics and Business. Fortunately, we were able to stay close despite the distance of Toronto to Kingston. This was instructive as the distance later become Toronto to Boston, then London Ontario, and final Ann Arbor, Michigan. No matter how long or how far, our conversations always began again as if we had never been apart.
We did spend time together years later at Kodak in Rochester, Blue Jay games, and at Don Valley Golf Course, my golf course in Ann Arbor, and other golf courses. I could still never beat him.
I was blessed to share dinner with Doug, Anne, Andrea, and Danny at their home a few years ago. I will always cherish this.
Let me end with a poem that Doug and I had as part of our 11th grade English Literature curriculum. The poem: Death Be Not Proud. As 16-year-old high school students, the deep meaning escaped me. Now, as an 80-year-old I find it to be profound. I believe that that its deep religious meaning would resonate with Doug as it does with me.
Death, be not proud (Holy Sonnet 10)
John Donne
1572 – 1631
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou are not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou'art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy'or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
