Eulogy for John O'Brien - December 21, 2011
This is a sad time for so many people, but it is also an occasion for the celebration of a remarkable life. What follows are affectionate recollections of “life with John”, which was certainly not without its humorous side.
I first met John O’Brien in 1955, when I joined the faculty of Sir George Williams College, where he had been for a year. The occasion was the traditional annual faculty gathering at Shawbridge in the Laurentians, where discussions of such weighty topics as “should we have academic departments?” or “what to do about the E grade?” (denoting a conditional pass) were interspersed with bridge games and – horror of horrors for a YMCA-related institution – consumption of alcohol. John came across as a serious young man – it was a little later that I discovered a very active humorous vein.
John was teaching Economics in a College with a total full-time faculty of about forty, no graduate programmes and a large majority of part-time students. The next thirty years were to see the remarkable evolution of the institution, an evolution much of whose success can be attributed to John’s leadership.
While he established his academic credentials by obtaining his doctorate from McGill, his administrative talents were soon spotted by the leadership of the time. The first revelation of some of these talents came when something had to be done about the faltering College library. John was appointed chair of a committee composed of the Bursar, the Director of Athletics (who had once worked in a book-store), and myself, current chair of the Library Committee (because I had once organized a small high-school library). John organized a routine whereby we met once a week to eat pigs’ knuckles in a Stanley Street restaurant, at which John distributed the individual responsibilities for the coming week. I first saw John’s ability to be firm when he made it clear to the reluctant librarian that she was to do what she was told.
But you don’t win ‘em all. It was around that time that John and Jack Bordan did a demographic study of where students lived, and came up with a recommendation that Sir George should move to Saint-Laurent! More positively, it was around the same time that John and Jack were active in the creation of the Sir George Williams Association of University Teachers – the ancestor of the current CUFA.
Watching John as a committee member was fascinating. He would say nothing while the other members chattered away. Then he would point out – somewhat acidly, if need be – what, if anything, had been achieved – this in his deep and powerful bass voice, emanating from a relatively frail body. Most effective!
This was a time of increasing participation of the Quebec Government in university affairs, as well as increasing committee work within the university system. John was an effective and respected member of a provincial committee on university financing, and he quickly acquired respect from colleagues and civil servants alike. Some of this was due to his ability to participate in French – a rather rare talent in anglophone university circles at the time – a somewhat unique French with an Owen Sound base and a Parisian overlay!
The Loyola College/Sir George Williams merger came to fruition largely because of John’s determination. He and Jack Bordan were the Sir George negotiators on the academic side. I think that that was an achievement of which he was particularly proud. Negotiations had their entertaining side – when meetings took place on the Sir George campus, coffee was served in plastic cups, while the corresponding meetings on the Loyola campus used bone china, crowned with refreshments from Father Malone’s liquor cabinet. Despite pressure to the contrary, John decided to maintain the plastic cups – after all, Sir George was the proletarian component!
John had realized that recognition as a “real” university depended on the existence of graduate work in general and doctoral studies in particular, and these were implemented in typical Sir George/Concordia style – gradually, but with determination!
Just in case you are getting the impression that John was a heartless bureaucrat, I can say without hesitation that he was a wonderful person to work for – you could be sure of his support, even if you goofed, and if you came up with an idea which he didn’t think would work, he would carefully explain why. I can think of only one occasion when he was sharp with me – and I richly deserved it.
He didn’t show feelings much. In 1984, when his current mandate as Rector ended, the search committee chose an outsider, at that time a Quebec civil servant with little university background, - mainly, I gather, for the questionable reason that it was time for a change. While I took the cowardly way out through early retirement, John swallowed his pride and went back to teaching Economics, remaining a faculty member until he retired.
But there was a further call – in his retirement, he was appointed Speaker of Senate, which allowed him to use his vast experience and political skills to an excellent degree.
In short, think of John as “Mr. Concordia”.
But there is another side to John – the devoted family man, despite the almost all-consuming demands of his job. I have never forgotten how he looked after Joyce when she had a long hospital stay, spending days, and sometimes nights, by her bedside.
There are not too many John O’Briens in our world. I feel privileged to have spent my academic career working with him, and, most of all, to have had him as a valued friend. Good-bye, John.
Jim Whitelaw