John Patrick "Jack" Scott

(formerly Schnob)

This is a story about the life of John "Jack" Patrick Scott, a Fort William boy, as told by his two sons. He was born on January 6th in 1937, just before the war, in Fort William, Ontario near, as he liked to say, Rock Candy Mountain. His parents were Marguerite Foreman (nee Bourgeois) and Paul "Napoleon" Schnob. His father - a gold prospector - passed away when he was only twelve years old, leaving him in the care of his mother and his many sisters.

There's no understanding our father without knowing of his impoverished roots. Although he never dwelled on it because of the warmth that flowed in his family, it shaped his friendly personality and his positive outlook on life, and it was the foundation of his charm and special generosity.

As the youngest of 17 children (French Canadian Catholic he would always add) – and a twin - he was raised with a combination of kindness from his mother and sisters, and hardscrabble toughness from his father and brothers. Fortunately, the indelible mark that remained on his character was the unique combination of tenderness, kindness, and generosity.

He was a competitive son-of-gun and was a golden gloves boxing champion and a star basketball player for the champion Court Kings and St. Patrick Saints.

He met our mother at a dance in Dauphin, Manitoba in 1959. He said he could jive – she said "bet ya can't", they've been jiving ever since. They were married not long after; he was 23 and she was 21 - so young, but common for the day.

Our father's rising career took us from Vancouver where he was night auditor at the Hotel Georgia to Kamloops, Calgary, Regina, and finally to Toronto to his career pinnacle on Bay Street running the shopping centre division for Lehndorff Properties. Our father's enthusiasm, hard work, honesty, and marketing flair took him a long way.

Along that way, despite his demanding job, he attended every school event and game that we played - he and my mom were welcome constant faces in the crowd. After games, our father always offered a ride to anyone who needed one. In fact, Dad would offer to drive anyone, anywhere they needed to go, even if it was many miles away. Everyone has stories of dad's kindness in helping them catch the ferry, go to the airport, or wherever.

He and our mother founded the Brampton Minor Basketball Association in the 80s, a city that became one of the most prolific sources of NBA talent in the world. He was always looking for people to help.

Our cottage life on Clear Lake near Huntsville, Ontario was a boisterous stream of extended family gatherings of the Scotts and Mitchells. He had a tiring amount of energy, and family reunions and a genealogy project filled his later years, and that only ended when he couldn't claim heritage beyond the Vikings.

After his career in real estate, it is almost unbelievable but wholly appropriate, that my parents then started an employment business for senior citizens which led to a flourishing niche providing Santa Clauses - 30 at its peak - to most of Vancouver's shopping malls. It was no coincidence that generosity flowed around his life.

No account of his life would be complete without mentioning his deep pride in Canada. He waved the Canadian flag from his front-row seat behind the net at game three of the 1972 Canada/Russia hockey series - when few others did. As a 12-year-old Mark recalls seeing him on TV several times and in his mind's eye he could see tears running down his cheeks as the anthem played. He was so proud.

Dad was known as the flagman at the Vancouver Grizzlies games, for waving that same Canadian flag from his seat that was prominent enough to be seen by all. He loved to be the centre of attention, especially when the media came to rely on his regular bag of chocolate treats that he tossed from yards away to anyone within range. He was unique and eccentric - in the nicest possible way - as numerous newspaper articles can attest.

And finally, we can say that he was a father without peer. If you knew our dad, you knew he whistled everywhere he went - we can hear him now. To quote from one of our favourite movies "That savoury fife, that sweet of your life, he was clearly the best of the bunch." He was a whistling sweet.

There are not enough superlatives to describe the positive impact he had on our lives. He was our hero, our role model, our supporter, our fan, and our gentle, generous dad. We will forever live with gratitude for being his son and in admiration of the doting and loving grandfather he was.

In his final days, the man we knew slowly slipped away - but his generosity stayed with him, even giving away imaginary cars to his grandchildren.

Jack passed away at the age of 84 on October 16, 2021, in White Rock, BC. Our mother stood by him every single day and ensured he passed with dignity, love, and without pain. He was the wind beneath her wings.

The world is a lesser place now that our dad has left it, but he is forever the amazing father, grandfather, husband, and friend we knew him to be. We all miss him every single day.

Jack is survived by his wife Loretta Mae Scott (nee Mitchell), his two sons Mark (Deneen) and Greg (Barbara), and the Scott grandchildren of Mark: Day and Ethan, and of Greg: Brady, and Adam.