John Bledsoe Gillett

Memories of Jack Gillett
By his son, David
John Bledsoe Gillett, known by everyone as Jack, was a devoted husband and father, a generous philanthropist, a civil engineer who was once partner with Whitman Requardt and Associates, a dedicated volunteer to the Boy Scouts of America whose many contributions included serving as Scoutmaster for Troop 828, and a member of the Trinity Episcopal Church in Towson for most of his life. He passed away on Monday evening at Johns Hopkins Bayview Medical Center at the age of 96. He is survived by four sons, eleven grandchildren, 14 great grandchildren, and 1 great great grandchild. When all these people get together, it looks like a multitude even if it isn't quite that. But as a son, I considered him a patriarch.
His dear wife, our mother, Mini, and his beloved daughter, Mary, both passed away within a week of each other in December, 2020. Now that he has passed, I truly believe that they are reunited.
We (a few family members) visited Edenwald, a lovely facility where he had spent the final years of his life, to begin clearing out his belongings. So many of the staff and residents, approached us to express their love for him and their sympathy to us, and they gave us comforting hugs. One lady said that she had left Edenwald for the day only to return the next morning to learn that he had died. She wept openly. We, his family, are grateful that he spent his final days surrounded by such caring care givers.
I remember all his friends at Edenwald, who became our friends, too. And they will miss him as much as I do.
Our father was like an onion with many layers. He was a hardworking man who wanted to make something of himself. An intelligent student, always making good grades, he got a scholarship at Vanderbilt University at 16, and went there while waiting to be drafted into the Second World War. But the war ended, soldiers came home to study using the Veteran's bill. My father's scholarship dried up, so he went to NC State and graduated as a civil engineer. He went on to work for Whitman Requardt and Associates and worked his way up to a partnership. He was a hard-working man with direction in his life. That was my father.
He was a dedicated father and husband. My parents stayed together for over seventy years of marriage. We could depend on my father; he was always there.
He recited poetry, long poems, poems that took time and love to memorize. His favorites were perhaps not typical poetry lover's poems. Two that he recited often were Casey at the Bat, the Cremation of Sam McGee, and Abdul Abulbul Amir. As a child listening to him recite them was a real treat.
He was a disciplinarian. Rules were rules, and we had to obey them. The kids got gifts at their birthday and at Christmas. You wanted something at any other time, you were on you own. But there were exceptions. I played little league baseball starting off with a glove my father gave me that was so big, it wouldn't stay on my hand. I said nothing, because I was only ten, and if I wanted another, I'd have to wait till December. Finally, I had had enough, so I went to him explaining that I couldn't catch anything with it, and I needed another. To my great amazement, he got up and took me shopping for a new mitt. I got one that fit just like a – well - just like a glove. I think about it to this day, because it was so out of character. But that was my father.
My father did not instill in us prejudice. Society may have, but not him. No racial slur or comment of any sort ever came of his mouth. I remember as a child my father and my maternal grandfather getting into heated arguments. I was too young to understand or remember what they were talking about, but the fact that they had such heated arguments left an impression on me. As I grew older, they never got together, so I didn't get the chance to listen and discover. So I asked him – what were you guys arguing about? Race, my father said. He did not have to say any more; I know which side of the civil rights issue he stood on. The issue had come up often enough in many other settings. That was my father.
My father took us all to Trinity Episcopal Church in Towson, Maryland, every Sunday. We only missed if we were out of town. There were closer churches, but we went there, and I have many fond memories of that place of worship. And I grew up with a deep love for Jesus. But my father never indoctrinated us. I grew up with a blissful ignorance of many finer points of Christian doctrine. When his child went off to find truth outside the Episcopal Church, I knew he was deeply disappointed, but that was never a point of disunity among us. He knew that the walls that divide religions do not reach heaven. He raised his children with no prejudices towards other religions. That was our father.
Now that he has passed on, his ashes will remain in the Trinity Church columbarium, and that is most fitting. He loved the Trinity community and they loved him deeply. And I am deeply grateful for their love for him. His earthly remains will remain where they shall be most appreciated.
Jack Gillett's funeral will take place at Trinity Episcopal Church in Towson at 10:30 AM on Saturday, June 1, 2024.