Bill O’Brien

Bill was my very good friend during some of the best days of our lives.
We were also acquainted professionally when he was a senior executive but I knew him better as a friend.
He was a true lover of family, friends, music, good living and adventure.
His children were dearest to him and he would faithfully report their progress as we would often share wine and break bread alfresco with our wives and our many good friends during the warmer months at Strathroy.
In those days our children were young, our wives most beautiful and we were handsome and strong.
His good humour was infectious and unending smiles and laughter, were his hallmarks.
Nobody could be unhappy in his company because he would take his excellent singing voice and outrageously funny stories wherever he went and his travels and adventures were extensive.
I can still recall our performances as he sang his parts with his strong tenor voice which was always clear and true.
We sang everything from Bach chorales to Gilbert and Sullivan and Bill spread his love of music boldly and proudly every time he sang and he was good.
Nature’s generosity showered us with her gifts and we revelled in them but she is savage and can be cruel, so those things we love the most will most assuredly be lost and thus these gifts are ephemeral.
Remember him well; his strength, his wit, his humour, his laughter, his successes and his powerful tenor voice that could ring with a sound as clear as a bell.

I had the pleasure of meeting and working with Bill at CeL language school. He was a good friend full of humour and good cheer. Rest in peace Bill.

Estimado mark y familia
Un abrazo para ti, flor maria e hijos, me alegró que tuvieran la oportunidad de estar con el en su ultimo segundo de vida y mis recuerdos de tu padre junto a linda musica y canto con un shumir y simboluco vinito mantenido en roble canadiense o chileno ?????

We were always welcome in their spacious backyard at the end of the street. We were tossing the ball around, a sea of 12s & 33s, Cowboys vs Dolphins vs Steelers. “That’s not real football!” he announced with a smile, and with a twinkle in his eye produced a different, rounder, ball. By the end of that afternoon, we all wanted to “bend it” like Mr OB.

Generous with his time as a coach and his voice in the choir, his friendship was very important to my family. Rest in Peace, Bill. My condolences to Paul and his entire family.

“Do not go gentle into that good night / Rage, rage against the dying of the light.” These well-known lines by Dylan Thomas characterize my father’s struggle with Parkinson’s over the last few years. Of that there is no doubt. But there was much more to his life. After his passing on Wednesday, I began to replay the events and stories of his 74 years while on my drive back to Toronto. In so doing, several things stood out that merit mention. He loved his family. He loved his friends. He loved the game of soccer. And he loved music. He was the one father who was at every soccer match, every hockey game and every wrestling bout. And he never failed to say, “I am proud of you.” He co-founded a soccer club in Delaware when he realized his children had no local club to play at and was our first coach. He was a friend’s friend – someone you wanted to be around because he listened, cared and knew how to have a good time. He was a great athlete who often regaled us as children with his many exploits – the school record of over a thousand headers against a wall with a soccer ball as a teenager at St Mungo’s academy – his championship season in 1957 with the Campsie Blackwatch, just outside Glasgow, as the team captain – and the many great seasons he had playing with London Celtic. He had a sweet, joyful voice that he readily shared. From singing the soprano lead in a Scottish school boy choir to belting out his role in a local Gilbert and Sullivan production to singing “Ave Maria” at weddings, his delightful warble pleased our ears and moved our hearts.

This past Christmas, with my family, I went to visit my dad at the Chelsey Long-term Care Facility where he spent his last few years. We arrived with guitar in hand ready to sing along with him. In the middle of the chorus of “Oh Holy Night”, we all stopped and marveled at the power of my father’s voice. He was singing louder than any of us. Although it had been a few years since we had been able to communicate through words, music was a means of sharing – a profound universal language that cuts through the ravages of debilitating disease and unites.

My father will live on in his children and grand-children. Our collective love of participation in sport and music is a testament to that. However, and more importantly, he has instilled in us a commitment to family. This is arguably his greatest legacy. And that is the reason why we are here today. We are present to celebrate his life and his legacy. Dad, we love you and you live on in us – in our memories, in our daily interactions with each other, and in our own legacy that we will create in your honour.

Hey, Mark, Flor Marie and kids,

So sorry to hear about your dad/grandpa. I have very fond memories of him when he would come to Cel to help out on occasion.

Hugs to you all; I am praying for you!

Beth Anne (and John)