Smith, Roy Downes

It is with sadness that we announce the peaceful passing of our beloved father, grandfather, and brother on May 10, 2021 at Valley Stream Manor in Ottawa. Roy was the second youngest of six children from the family of Urban Earle Smith and Ada Bertha Jackson. Roy, in his 89th year, was predeceased by his loving wife of 60 years Jean Lois Brisco (Nee Smith) and four siblings Gwendolyn Isobel, Shirley Edna, Wesley Lloyd, and Jackson Earle. Roy is survived by his three sons - Philip Loren (Emely), Steven David (Catherine), and Kevin Andrew, his grandchildren Imogen Rose and Georgina Lily and his devoted brother Leigh Urban.

Roy was born and raised in Westboro, Ottawa. He met his wife at Teachers' College in Kingston and he later completed a Bachelor's of Education degree and a Master's of Education degree at the University of Ottawa. In addition to raising his children with Jean in Ottawa, Roy was a dedicated teacher with the Ottawa School Board and then a well-respected Principal for over 25 years. He was also highly involved with his Church, Alta Vista Baptist and later the Metropolitan Bible Church. Roy will be missed by everyone who had the good fortune of knowing him.

Roy was interred at Beechwood Cemetery, 280 Beechwood Avenue, Ottawa on Friday May 14, 2021 and a recording of the graveside service can be viewed using the link provided below.

Donations in Roy's memory may be made to the Alzheimer's Society of Canada.

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EULOGY - ROY DOWNES SMITH / Philip L. Smith (son)

DAD was a voracious reader for most of his life so it is fitting that I preface this eulogy with a reference to a novel.

There is a poignant passage in John Steinbeck’s novel East of Eden when the hard scrabble farmer instructs his son about the importance of storing away good memories to help sustain you when the hard times come. The implication of course being, that they surely will. I am working my way through my grief by thinking about memories of Dad. I mistakenly assumed that I had said my ‘ good-byes’ years ago, but I was wrong.

The memories I am sharing here are collective memories. Some related by Roy, some by his wife Jean, some by myself and some have been related to me by other members of the family. How does one sum up a life? This is my attempt and I hope my readers will forgive me of any lapses or omissions.

Roy was the second youngest of a fairly large family and grew up during the great depression and like so many others of that “greatest generation” it was to have a huge impact on his subsequent life. Growing up in what is now the Westboro area of Ottawa, Roy lived a simple life. Riding his bicycle and fishing in the nearby Ottawa River were two of his favorite past times, and like Mark Twain’s protagonist Tom Sawyer was mischievious. Like the time he put a piece of his mothers good table ware into the lawn mower blades just to see what would happen. After he mangled the piece he quietly returned the damaged cutlery to the kitchen drawer and never said a word to anyone.

While Dad was in school, his older brothers, Wes and Jack , and his 2 older sisters Gwen and Shirley were serving abroad during World War 2. His father Urban worked on the CP rail and often dad would only see him on weekends. His mother, Aida was a homemaker. The only other sibling around was his younger brother Leigh. I think Leigh and Roy forged very close bonds growing up and they remained devoted and loving brothers to each other for the remainder of their lives. Uncle Leigh was a frequent dinner guest which was a real treat for us kids. Uncle Leigh had a wicked sense of humour and would love to tease Jean.

Dad was quite tall for that era and played basketball for Nepean high school. When he was a teenager he did not have a clear plan for his life, like most young men. A summer though spent working with a roofing crew in the hot sun convinced him that an outdoors job was not a good idea, especially for someone with his fair freckled skin.

Roy was a bit of a maverick and liked hanging out in the local pool halls which at that time had a rather unsavoury reputation. There he learned to play Boston pool, snooker and billiards. His love for the game lasted his entire life. Jean was not a big fan of the game and actually referred to pool halls as “ dens of iniquity.” Despite her disapproval, Roy taught his sons to play the game and even bought an 8x4 pool table for the basement. No visit home was complete without playing a few games of pool with Dad. This tradition went on for decades.

Roy graduated from high school and attended teacher’s college in Kingston at Queen’s University where he met Jean. He wooed her by quoting poetry to her. Although he was a sensitive and artistic soul at heart, he was also very much a man’s man. Roy enjoyed fishing and hunting. Jean’s brother, Al Brisco , related to me that Roy would often bring his gun with him on the bus that he would take to Northcote when he would visit Jean. At that time he also started wearing a burgundy coloured beret. He must have been quite a sight with his shock of bright red hair adorned by his beret and carrying a rifle. One of my favorite old photos of Dad is a picture of him with his beret and overcoat looking suitably solemn. The self titled caption of the photo was very much in the zeitgeist of the 1950’s, “ I was a teenage communist!” This humorous title by Roy showed he was very much aware of and also amused by the rampant McCarthyism and anti-communist hysteria that was prevalent at the time in North America.

Dad had a passion for learning, and after marrying Jean he continued on this quest and received both a Bachelor of Arts and Masters of Education degrees later on in his life. Initially, Dad was a teacher but then became a principal. He worked in a number of different schools in the Ottawa School Board for 30 years. His first two schools were located in the Glebe Region which at that time was a poor inner city area with a lot of disadvantaged youth. Dad was very dedicated to his young charges.

Dad, like his brother Leigh, was passionate about music. He loved classical music and the family house would echo with the sounds of Beethoven, Brahms and Strauss. Dad learned how to play the piano as a youth and often played hymns on the piano that he inherited from his mother. His sons also learned to play the piano. Love and appreciation of music is something that he instilled in us.

During vacation periods Dad took the family to visit our relatives on both sides of the family. The Smith cottage owned by his parents was the gathering place for summertime family reunions. I believe he keenly missed his older brothers and sisters growing up during the 1940’s and wanted to make sure we all realized the importance of family. Dad embraced fatherhood with gusto and enriched our young lives with many new experiences such as hockey, piano and swimming lessons and, of course, taught us to fish and ride a bike.

Roy and Jean were devout church going Christians and going to church every Sunday was a household ritual and adhered to faithfully. Dad was also a great role model and led by example over word, and truly lead a Christian life. He was a nurturing, and loving father, and a wonderful mentor. Roy was also very devoted to Jean. Like every couple they went through their “rough patches” as I discovered later on in my life. However, they stayed the course together for an astonishing 60 years, and inspired their sons to strive in their own relationships.

After 30 years as a much loved teacher and principal Dad retired, but he continued to lead a rich and rewarding life. Dad had a passion for travel and took us on trips to Florida, on a cross Canada road/camping trips to the west coast, and to the famed national parks of the USA. These trips opened our young eyes and awoke in me a love of travel that continues to this day. He, himself travelled extensively in the United Kingdom, Western Europe and Turkey. Later in life, he travelled with Jean to the Holy Land which was the culmination of a life long dream for both of them.

Dad loved to read and had a keen and inquiring mind. He was particularly interested in the natural world. Carl Sagan’s ‘Cosmos’, Richard Leakey’s ‘The Making of Man’ and even Al Gore’s treatise on climate change ‘An Inconvenient Truth’ were just a few of the many literary works he absorbed. He also subscribed to National Geographic Magazine.

During his retirement Dad enthusiastically embraced new roles as father-in-law, and grandfather. He loved his grandchildren, and was very close to his daughter’s- in- law and made them feel like they were part of the family. In truth, Dad treated them like daughters. He enjoyed visiting his sons wherever they were and was very proud and vocal of their achievements. Dad also reinforced this to us whenever he visited.

As ‘ pater familias’ Dad also became quite the ‘raconteur’ and enjoyed regaling the family with tales of his exploits as a younger man. He always had a humorous twinkle in his eyes and a little grin as he would entertain us at the dinner table. Some of the stories were repeated over the years but were always enjoyed by one and all.

Dad aged gracefully and was very fit and active into his late 70’s. He also had an incredible memory for detail and had a sharp and incisive mind. A common comment on Roy’s astonishing memory was “he has a mind like a steel trap!” To me he seemed an unstoppable force of nature and the development of Alzheimer’s disease was a cruel blow to him and to the rest of his family. Sadly, his wife Jean also developed Vascular Dementia concurrently.

It was a blessing that they were able to share the same apartment at the assisted living residence and it seemed that their dementia reawakened a new love for each other. It was a common sight to see them walking down the hall holding hands. It was almost as if they were courting again and it was a very endearing sight to the staff and to us. Dad continued to maintain his sweet gentle demeanour and his sense of humour as the disease progressed, which was also a blessing. Michael Richer was a caring companion and friend to Dad during his time at Valley Stream Manor. He and the staff were very fond of Roy and the most common comment I heard was that Roy was a sweet and gentle man. When Dad could no longer read he continued to astonish us with his amazing marksmanship on the residence pool table. It was gratifying that Dad could continue to enjoy this simple pleasure.

Even after Dad could no longer walk and had to be taken around in a wheelchair he would continue to make humorous comments that the staff would enjoy relating to me. Eventually, Dad was no longer able to recognize family members. His devoted brother Leigh continued to visit Roy faithfully and when Roy passed away Leigh was devastated. Dad passed away peacefully May 10th , 2021 at Valley Stream Manor in Nepean. Uncle Leigh passed away only a few weeks later in Burnaby, B.C. on June 14th, 2021.

It has been said that Alzheimer’s disease is “The Long Goodbye” and it truly is. It has been traumatic and difficult for all of us to witness this decade long relentless erosion of Roy Smith/ Dad into a shell of his former self. We are thankful that Roy/ Dad kept his beautiful personality and maintained a quiet refined dignity until the end.

As a pebble dropped into a pond of still water sends out ever widening ripples, Roy/ Dad touched and transformed many lives. My life and all of our lives have been blessed because of this gentle soul.

Thank you Dad! I love you and I miss you.

We will never forget you Dad or Mom.

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Dad eulogy / Steven D. Smith (son)

Dad will be remembered as a kind, humble, witty, and gentle fellow. A devoted husband. For me, he was always just a good dad, which is high praise.

Born and raised locally in Westboro, by his parents Urban and Ada, Dad attended school locally and played basketball at Nepean high school. With freckles and a shock of flaming red hair I’m sure he was instantly recognizable. At 6’ he was relatively tall, but in the Smith family I imagine he was one of the shorter brothers. I remember him mentioning that as a kid he was sorry to ‘miss out’ on the War and tried to do his bit to raise money for Canadian war bonds. I know he loved and greatly admired his brothers and sisters because he spoke of them often, and often shared stories of their experiences in the war: Gwendolyn, Shirley, Wesley, Jackson, and his loyal younger brother Leigh.

Dad finished an undergraduate degree at Queen’s University in Kingston where he met Jean, his wife of 60 years at Teachers’ College. He also completed a graduate degree in History at Southern Methodist University and he and mom loved Dallas where Phil was borne. I can recall they often talked about the possibility of relocating back to Texas while we were young.

I have nothing but fond memories of dad from the earliest ages. I honestly don’t recall him ever raising his voice. Lots of board games together, road hockey, and family memories.

An early memory was of attending four-year old kindergarten at Cambridge Street Public School in downtown Ottawa where dad had become the principal. I must have forgotten my lunch one-day, so dad asked if anyone in the cafeteria had anything extra for his son. Well, you can imagine my four-year old surprise as dozens of grinning students lined up and dropped an item of food on top of what became an increasingly fast-growing mountain of food on the table in front of my astonished eyes. In my young eyes, dad seemed an incredibly powerful and charismatic figure – always looking out for me!

Memorably, he and mom also brought us on an incredible cross-country road-trip back in the mid-60s. Back then, there was no air-conditioning, no Google maps, probably no seatbelts. Just wide-open windows, a cramped camper, and endless roads across the prairies and Western Canada all the way to Vancouver Island, down to Yellowstone National Park, Mount Rushmore National Memorial, Badlands National Park, and beyond. For dad, I’m sure it was a trip of a lifetime… but with three impatient troublesome rascals in the back seat of a big old Pontiac. He let us read the maps and we ‘navigated’ across a continent. It must have been challenging, but I remember none of that.

There were also long summertime trips to Florida in the 60s and early 70s. An epic three-day car journey from Ottawa to Anna Maria Key and Bradenton Beach was itself a challenge. Again, no air-conditioning, just a single loud fan in a sweltering beach house next to our Florida-based relatives from the Smith-side
of the family, Uncle Les and Uncle Ed. But we loved it: Fishing, snorkeling, endless days in the sun with dad when mom was back home studying for her undergraduate degree from University of Ottawa. Dad took me deep-sea fishing one day and I managed to catch the biggest fish, a red snapper which was our dinner for several nights afterwards. Dolphins raced alongside our boat on the journey home. All thrilling for a kid. Dad always showed us kids a good time.

I do recall dad made an attempt to be a strict disciplinarian when we were younger, with mixed success. I chalk this up to the parenting style in favor during the 60s. But I found dad to be surprisingly tolerant and easy-going as I grew older. When I announced that I wanted to spend months back-packing through
Europe as an 18-year old dad seemed happy to support my efforts. And when I announced that I wanted to go to art school (before transferring to McGill), he also backed me up.

Dad was someone who was there for me. Someone who’d love to come out and throw the ball around in the yard. But he also knew how to get things done. Fix things. Always there with some practical advice. A good ear. A kind and modest guy.

But anyone who knew him would also be astonished by his truly encyclopedic knowledge of history. He was someone you wanted on your trivial pursuit team!

He was a true lover of classical music. We spent our childhoods with vinyl albums constantly playing the great symphonic scores or piano concertos. Lots of Beethoven and Mozart! That was the background music of our life. It bears mentioning that he and mom also held season’s tickets to the National Arts Centre Orchestra for many years, where I imagine they hardly missed a concert.

But he was a down-to-earth practical guy. Dad built impressive hardwood desks and bookshelves for us with his carpentry equipment out in the garage through our childhood. Dad also knew a lot about hunting and fishing and took me out target shooting and took us all out fishing on many occasions. He could effortlessly clean and gut anything we caught for dinner. It was quite a sight!

Dad took me to early morning ice hockey practices and games as a kid. I have a 7-year old goalie of year trophy in the basement to prove it.

Dad was also a very big football fan. He was a lifelong Dallas Cowboys fan but switched allegiances to the New England Patriots after Cath and I moved to Boston from 1996 onwards, often wearing his “Patriots” tuque in winter.
I recall attending several Ottawa ‘Roughrider’ games together with dad as a kid, until after one particularly dismal, cold and bitter day in October freezing in the stands I think we both agreed that in the future watching games from the warmth of our living room would be perfectly fine.

Another of his favorite hobbies was snooker. He joked that he spent his youth in pool halls, but he would bring us kids to the local pool hall from time to time to play a few rounds of snooker which for us was a thrill. We eventually splashed out and bought a very good pool table for our basement at home, which was heavily used at times, particularly by my older brother Phil who became a very good player in his own right. Even in his last years when dad was struggling, he could shoot an amazingly proficient game of pool with our daughters Imogen and Georgina.

As far as the current obsession with fitness and diet, can I just say that Dad was many years ahead of his time. “That trim figure…!” people would remark with amazement, and indeed dad managed to maintain his high school weight throughout his life. How many of us have managed that feat?

We boys enjoyed lifting the set of “Joe Weider” weights that we found in the garage. Turns out that dad had taken up weightlifting for general fitness in the early 1960s. But fitness was the habit and hobby of a lifetime for dad: He took up jogging in the early ‘70s with an early pair of Nike ‘waffles’ running shoes; he had a much-used lifelong gym membership at the RA club; he enjoyed cross-country skiing; and of course, he and mom were keen, power-walkers right until the end… sometimes walking many miles in all weather conditions.

He was also a ‘teetotaler’. I can remember on one hand the number of times seeing dad with an alcoholic beverage. And no eulogy of dad can be written without mentioning his Christian faith. He and mom were active members of the Alta Vista Baptist Church and then the Metropolitan Bible Church in downtown Ottawa for decades. They enjoyed close fellowship with various friends and families from church well into their 80s, until they were no longer able to attend. Although dad read the bible carefully, he also enthusiastically embraced science and research, and loved learning about astronomy.

Dad enjoyed playing the piano on his mother’s beautiful upright piano. He was surprisingly proficient and would sit down and play out a series of hymns and seasonal tunes from time to time, singing along joyfully.

Given his knowledge of history, we liked to imagine that dad was a frustrated history professor. As someone who shied away from conflict, he probably found working as an elementary school principal increasingly stressful and he seemed only too happy to retire when the opportunity arose. But the school board had been keen to put him in more challenging schools, particularly early on in his career where he seemed to thrive.

After retiring, dad embraced the opportunity to embark upon an ambitious series of trips to Europe and the Middle East. He stayed with me in Oxford one Autumn in the late 80s after one of his European adventures, and we enjoyed several weeks together, visiting colleges and villages outside of Oxford. Memorably, one of those towns was Charlbury in the Cotswolds where my wife is from. Walking through Cornbury estate, Dad was thrilled to find himself standing next to a stag with a huge set of antlers.

If you think about it, for such a humble guy, dad was underestimated.

Dad began to decline a few years ago. But no one asks whether he was wealthy or poor. They remember his character: Gentle, kind, honest, humble, soft-spoken, witty, friendly, serious.

I love you dad!

We love you grandpa. We will never forget. We will always love you.


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