HAPPY 100th BIRTHDAY, JACK ENNIS!

The following is an address to Jack Ennis on the occasion of his 100th birthday on June 27, 1998, extended on behalf of all his relatives and friends by his niece Patricia Ennis-Burke.

Relatives, friends, all who have come to celebrate this happy occasion, welcome! It is good for all of us to be here.  One hundred years ago today on June 27, 1898, Ellen McHugh and Pad Ennis of Merasheen gave birth to their first born, John Joseph, and today, we come to honor this centenarian and celebrate his wonderful life.

Just who is this John J. Ennis? Each of us has his/her own response to this question. For one, he was a dearly loved husband: for Angela, Jean and Paddy, an honored and respected father: for 29
Pomeroys, Abbots and Ennis, he is Grandad: for 32 of their offspring, he is great-Grandad: and for Evan O'l(eefe, he is great-great Grandad. To the people of Merasheen, Jack was a good neighbor, a hard-working fisherman, and friend. To Mr. Tom Houlihan, until both he and Uncle Jack were in their mid-eighties and decided to hang up their oilskins, he was a shipmate. To many of us, he is Uncle Jack. Others referred to him as Yankee Jack, a fond nick name conferred on him to distinguish him from the many other Jacks in Merasheen, and not because he was an American, although he did visit the United States in his late eighties. To all who know him, Jack Ennis is a model of Christian witness. His devotion to the Rosary, attendance at Mass and reception of Holy Eucharist - his whole life in general is testimony to this witness.

I recently read, ‘If ever there was a time when we needed to reclaim our identity, clarify our values, and make memories with our children, it is now. If each family picks up a few loose dangling threads, together we can weave a strong and beautiful cloth.“

Today at the request of Paddy and Angela, I am honored to share with you some memories of Uncle Jack. Perhaps they will stir in you some stories that you will share with your children, and the cloth of our lives will be a richer fabric because somewhere in the warp and the woof, Uncle Jack is one of the strong threads.

My memories of Uncle Jack go back long before I was born. They were knit from stories told to me by my dad, Uncle Jack's baby brother, Jim. Dad always spoke of Uncle Jack as a care giver, protector and provider, and why not for he credited Uncle Jack with saving his life when he was six years old. Apparently, their brother, Louis, was a mischievous, adventure-loving chap all of his life. One day he wanted to test the buoyancy of a puncheon tub, and so, placing my father on one side and balancing his weight with a rock on the other side, he set Dad adrift down in Philly's Bottom. Luckily, Uncle Jack got to his rescue before a fatality occurred.

Being eight years older than my father, Uncle Jack often fashioned wooden windjacks, spin tops and boats for him. As a surprise, Uncle Jack was building a special boat for Dad down in the stage. Dad, however, discovered the secret and often sneaked to take a look at how the project was progressing. Uncle Louis, learning that Dad had discovered the secret, teased that the boat was not intended for him but for Bill Pittman. So great was Uncle Lou's taunting, that Dad, on his next trip to the stage, took the axe and split the boat open. When he saw the disappointment on Uncle Jack's face, he knew he should have never doubted for whom the boat was meant. There was not another boat built to replace the one he had destroyed. Uncle Jack had taught his brother never to let jealousy get the upper hand.

Dad talked fondly of living with Uncle Jack and Aunt Bride and their three children. Sometimes when things were going haywire in our family, he would scratch his head and sputter, ‘Boy the hookey Dublin, it was never like this with Jack's crowd!“ He related how Angela and Jean would scheme together spelling their intention to roast sliced potatoes on the stove top so that Paddy wouldn't know what they were planning. Paddy, however, had learned to decipher their code and would pipe up and say, ‘I'm having some PQRS too!“

Dad was slightly reluctant in leaving his brother's family. He built his house directly across from Uncle Jack's house and on his wedding night, left the wedding and went to Uncle Jack‘s, hung up his coat, and was proceeding to go to bed when Aunt Bride jogged his memory of having married that day and wouldn't he now be sleeping in his own house.

Uncle Jack's and Aunt Bride's generosity and hospitality extended beyond their immediate family to all who knew them. One of my favourite memories of life in Merasheen was that of awaiting the return of my aunt and uncle from their winter visit in St. John's.  There was always little gifts for Doreen, Lou and me as well as their grandchildren. How I treasured the scribbler with the colorful scene on the cover and the pencil with Mickey Mouse or Donald Duck that they brought! I still remember trying to do my work so perfectly so as not to ruin the beauty of the gift. For a few days, we were the envy of our schoolmates.

Adversity was no stranger to Uncle Jack. As a young family provider, he suffered from a serious back ailment which often literally brought him to his knees. Spinal surgery at that time was rather frontier but when informed of the possibilities, Uncle Jack, optimist that he is, said, ‘Go for it!‘ and his straight strong back has been the envy of many for many years.

On another occasion Uncle Jack's hands were severely burned when a gas tank exploded while he was repairing the engine in his motor boat. Relying on the medical knowledge his cousin Laura had gleaned from her reading, he placed himself in her care and after weeks of bathing his hands in strong tea he was able to return to the fishery.

John Lou, who is now in the process of publishing his memoirs, has shared with me some of his recollections of misadventures involving Uncle J ack. He tells of the time he, Uncle Jack, and Din Pat
Walsh went duck hunting out around Bald Head to a place called the Pool. The intention was to land Din Pat and Uncle Jack to shoot the ducks they had sighted at the far end of the Pool. John Lou was to remain in the dory. Just as Din Pat stepped on shore, he noticed a big sea and the two men quickly jumped back into the dory. John Lou concludes, ‘Lucky for all of us because I would have never have survived alone in the dory and the people back home in Merasheen would have never known the end of Din Pat and Jack had they been left stranded." The three of them using their navigational skills got the dory around the three shoals and arrived back home with not so much as a feather missing.

Another duck hunting expedition to the Dirty Rock Cove left Uncle Jack, Din Pat, and Tom Pittman stranded in a snowstorm. Back home everyone was worried sick not knowing whether they were dead or alive. At the end of the week, the three arrived home safely after walking 6 or 7 miles across the island in snow that was waist deep.

Uncle Jack, on many occasions, has felt death's sharp sting. All of his brothers and sisters, his wife, Bride, of 67 years, his daughter Jean and her three children, Linda, Sheila and Billy, a son and daughter-in-law, and his brother-in-law and faithful friend, Mr. Tom Houlihan, as well as countless friends have all been called to their eternal reward. Sometimes when I visit Uncle Jack and we sit quietly in his warm kitchen I wonder if he isn't looking forward to being with all of them sometime soon.

Age has not prevented Uncle Jack from experiencing life's highs even if only for a few brief moments. Jimmy Houlihan swears that Uncle Jack could have been another Ben Johnson. ‘One day after leaving Dr. Penney's office,’ Jimmy relates, ‘Uncle Jack took off, ran down the parkway gaining momentum by the second, and would have probably ended up in Placentia Gut had there not been a parked car which brought him to a sudden halt!“ Perhaps it was steroids. His doctor is not telling.

Uncle Jack's neighbor still trembles when she recalls looking out the window and sighting him up on the roof of his house at the age of 98. Not knowing what else to do to prevent him from falling, she ran to her bedroom, grabbed her holy water bottle and made the sign of the cross until he was safely back down on the ground. When questioned as to why in the world he was up there, Uncle Jack replied,
‘Ah girl, I was checking to see if that fellow Angela and them hired to fix the cap on the chimney had done it right.’  

Now if you think that these occurrences gave Uncle Jack a rush, ‘you ain't heard nothing yet!’ He, himself takes great pleasure in relating an experience which took place three years ago while he was visiting his brother Jim at St. Clare's Hospital. After he and Angela had bid their good night to Dad, several hours beyond hospital regulation time, Uncle Jack waited in the foyer of the hospital for
Angela to bring around the car. There he stood, the proper gentleman dressed to the nines in his three piece suit, black overcoat, holding his hat and cane, when a lady in distress knocked at the door. Uncle Jack promptly let her in. Well, she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissed him and went on to utter such things as men love to hear when Angela reappeared on the scene bringing the moment of ecstasy to a halt and the speedy exit of the lady of the night.

My brother, Frank, after hearing the story said, ‘You're were a lucky man, Uncle Jack. She wouldn't be long getting her hand in your pocket and stealing your wallet.’

Uncle Jack replied, ‘It's a matter of opinion whether I was lucky or not, but if it was only a 10 or 20 dollar bill she wanted, I wouldn't mind giving her that.’

Many people may not be aware of Uncle Jack's subtle wit but I have come to enjoy it. While visiting one day, I inquired as to how he was doing. He replied, ‘Girl, I'm first rate sittin' down, but when I get up out of the chair, I don't know if I am in forward or reverse.’

A few months ago when he was hospitalized, his doctor asked, ‘Mr Ennis, do you drink alcohol?’
Uncle Jack replied, ‘Well now, doctor, I do.“
‘When do you drink, sir?’ inquired the doctor.
‘Whenever friends drop by,’ Uncle Jack told him.
‘And how much do you consume, sir?‘ questioned the doctor.
‘Well now doctor, that depends on how long they stay‘ Uncle Jack told him.

The last laugh, compliments of Uncle Jack, was brought on by a story Angela relayed to me. A few weeks ago while a guest at the Health Science Complex, two nurses appeared to assist Uncle Jack to the bathroom. One stood on either side of him. Uncle Jack made no attempt to move but first sized up one and then the other. Then surveying the space where they had to manoeuvre, he stated, ‘A wide load for a narrow berth, don't you think?’

Uncle Jack's mind is as sharp as a tack. It amazes me how ‘with it‘ he is at his age; When you visit, his talk and inquiries reveal that he is current with what is happening. Of course, Paddy's life at sea keeps Uncle Jack geographically alert. He informs all of us where Paddy is sailing and his expected dates of arrival and departure. Of course, there is no trouble to detect his delight when Paddy is expected home.

I probably could go on with stories about Uncle Jack but there are a few people who want to speak and some formalities to be attended to, as well as a dance awaiting us. I will conclude my l reminiscences by referring to one of my favourite stories about The Velveteen Rabbit. In this story the little boy questions, ‘What does it mean to become real?’ He is given the answer, ‘Real is when your ears need mending, your eyes are lost, your whiskers are missing and your skin is tattered as a result of having loved and being loved so much.’
Uncle Jack, you like the Velveteen Rabbit, have become a truly real person.

Let us stand and express our gratitude foil having had the privilege of walking with Jack on his life's road by singing ‘Happy Birthday.’

On December 11, 1999, at the age of 101 years 6 months, John Joseph Ennis, Merasheen’s longest Iiving son, was called to his eternal reward. How rich our lives are for having known him!