Shirley (Downs) Earle

To Shirley’s family, I send my deepest sympathy. You are all in my thoughts and prayers at this sad time. Lynn

To Shirley’s family:
My sympathy at this time. Shirley was perhaps the most influential boss I have had and I continue to carry her words/advice with me into my current career. I know that she inspired staff and children to not only do their best but use creativity, compassion, and humour to make a difference. You should be proud of that legacy.

The following is the eulogy that was delivered at Shirley’s funeral. Our family would like to thank all who joined us at the service and wanted to give those who could not the opportunity to hear more about our Mum….

On behalf of our family I would like to thank all of you for being here today to share in our memory of Shirley – as some of you called her , Mum as my brother and sister,Martin and Jane knew her and Nana as many others in this room called her.

Shirley was born on May 2, 1930 in London, England to Harold and Kathleen Downs. She has two brothers, Alan and Brian who still live in England and an older sister Sheila who lives in Australia.

Her childhood was tough but that was not the way she remembered it. The biggest factor in her youth was the Second World War. She was nine when it started and living in London was a dangerous place. However, Because of the bombs that were falling in London they decided to move to their small cottage, called the Owleries, right on the Thames river in Shepperton as they were convinced it would be much safer. It was a very spartan place and they raised chickens, ducks, rabbits etc to help with the few food rations they were allotted. One of her joys of living there was being able to ride horses in the fields nearby and so she became a very good rider.
Every day she would ride her bike to and from school and often she would have to ride her bike full tilt into the ditch – because that’s what you did when the air raid sirens started and you stayed there until you heard the all clear.
It seemed to her there were as many air raids in Shepperton as there were in London and it wasn’t until much later she found out there was a paint factory very close by – and it was right beside the Shepperton bridge – And of course factories and bridges were two prime targets.

Now the Thames (the river in England) had a huge influence on her as this was where she learned to punt. And I don’t mean kick a football. Punting was a very popular sport in England and she was very good at it. A punt is a watercraft that you push forward with the help of a very long pole. Think of an Italian gondola on steroids. They were long and extremely narrow. Just wide enough that you could plant one foot forward and one foot sideways. And then your balance and propulsion came from pushing on a 20’ foot pole into the river bottom. Of course, you got very wet if it got stuck in the mud on the bottom.

With lots of practice Mum was able to do this faster than anyone else and won numerous championships. And she certainly had the trophies to show for it. Our house was full of pewter beer tankards, for that was what the trophies were. And here are just some examples. SHOW -TANKARDS

I am sure visitors to our house wondered why we needed to have beer tankards everywhere – It couldn’t have left a good first impression and you could imagine them thinking – “Don’t they drink water like everyone else does?”
But in reality they were our first toys. Martin, Jane and I used those tankards as bats, sticks, balls – whatever our imagination called for and they got pretty banged up. Eventually Mum put those ones away (probably after one of us got bonked on the head) and kept a few for show.

When she was around 20 my Mum was introduced to my Dad by Alan, her older brother. They were both athletic and enjoyed each other’s sporting activities. My Dad was the rugby player and my Mum the punter. They fell in love and married in 1954. They honeymooned in France and Spain and a year and a half later I was born in Shepperton.

Now England in 1956 was a tough place. While it was 10 years after the war it was not a prosperous place. My Mum was working at the Dorothy Wilding Studio in London, an outstanding photographer who was one of the very few successful female business people in England. This job had a big influence on my Mum. The Dorothy Wilding studio was the official photographer for the Queen and it was all hands on deck when those portraits were taken. My Mum helped with the lighting and was one of a group that took those pictures – a fact she was very proud of.

Her skill and love of photography was a part of her life. One of my earliest memories is posing for the annual Earle children portrait my Mum took each Christmas to send back to England. We’d be 6,4 and 2 years old, dressed in white shirts and a tie, sitting ramrod straight on a bench with a big white sheet hanging on the wall behind us and lights bounced off the ceiling. She’d turn the living room into a portrait studio. It was always at Christmas time and this felt like torture. Well we still have some of those pictures. They are remarkable records and now, finally, I am glad she made us do it.

One of the things we most valued about her love for photography was the albums she kept and the time she spent in taking, printing, sorting photos to create the albums. She has a library of about 30 photo albums capturing key moments in our lives. Whenever anyone of the family visited it would be inevitable that someone would spend time looking through those albums. They are an absolute treasure trove.

England in 1956 held few job prospects and the future did not look any brighter. Opportunity was elsewhere and my Mum and Dad made the decision to pack up and move to Canada. Australia was another choice but her Mum ( my Grandma who had a big influence over her life and mine as well) had been to Canada and Ontario and had loved it. So the choice was made.

They packed a few belongings in a trunk, threw me ( at 9 months old ) over my Mum’s shoulder and took the boat ( the SS Homeric) to Canada. A week later they landed in Montreal and came on to Toronto. They spent their first year and winter on St. Clarens avenue and hated it – so that spring my dad took a trip over to Toronto Island and that was it, that was the place for them. They rented part of a house ( upstairs of Jimmy Jones for those who know the Jones’s ) on Hanlan’s Point, and eventually bought a house on Ward’s Island.

It was the water that drew my Mum to the Island. For water was a powerful force for her. She loved the water and always needed to be near it. She grew up on the Thames and spent many years on Toronto Island. When we moved off the island to the city, we lived on Humbercrest Blvd…. And yes it was on the crest of the Humber river. And when she moved to London ( a place in her mind that never had enough water) she had to be close to the Thames.

My Mum was an avid swimmer and made sure each of her kids learned to swim as soon as they could. One of my first swimming memories was holding on to her shoulders, gripping oh so tight, as she swam – way over my head and way over her head through the waves on Lake Ontario. This was not a little wading pool but Lake Ontario – As a teacher she believed in teaching you in gradual steps but also that sometimes you had to make a big leap and that was a big enough leap for me. HER love for swimming never left her. Each summer she would spend a couple of weeks or more at my cottage. She would start each day off with a major swim – no matter the weather. Jason, Jonathan and I would be just getting up and she would be coming back into the cottage after her half hour swim.

She has traveled extensively over the past 20 years with trips to Australia and New Zealand, Malaysia and Indonesia, France, Germany, Scandinavia, Egypt and all around Newfoundland. On all these travels, whenever she could, she would go for a swim. I remember her talking about her tourmates on the Scandinavia trip calling her the “Crazy Canadian” (they were mostly Americans) as she went swimming in the North Sea every day even though the water temperature was hovering around 14 C.

Travel was important to my Mum. And none of the trips were standard
package tours as they always had an educational component to them. She wanted to find out what how the locals really lived so all her trips had lectures, and opportunities to live in the culture she was visiting. She has pictures from her trips of staying in a jungle hut in Malaysia, and sailing on a native catamaran, diving on the Great Barrier reef, camping in a Yurt in Mongolia, and exploring the Amazon and reed boats in Peru and of course the obligatory riding a camel in Egypt.– she was not too impressed with camels – felt they were just disgusting, smelly, pig-headed animals compared to the horses she loved.

She loved to share her sense of adventure and travel, especially with her family. We had epic camping trips as kids including camping in the snow in August in the mountains north of Quebec city. She wanted her grandchildren to enjoy the travel experience as well so when each grandchild reached the age of about 12 she would take them on a trip – just them and Nana. Of course these weren’t lie by the pool and relax trips – they were all active and educational.

Amy and Nana went to the Great barrier reef and Australia, Peter went to an adventure camp on Vancouver Island as did Tony, she took Claire and Erik to different riding/adventure camps in the US, Jason to the NASA Space camp in Houston and Jonathan to Tadoussac to see the whales and learn about marine life. Part of the adventure was spending alone time with Nana. And part of the adventure was the travel – just ask Erik or Jonathan what they think about 12 hour bus trips. Among other things they will say they learned a lot.

When my parents moved to the city from Ward’s Island my Mum started teaching Nursery school because she loved it. She then started teaching developmentally challenged children which provided her with new experiences. As part of the job she would go the homes of the families of these children. They would always provide her with lunch and as they were often from different cultures she would get to experience foods from all over the world. She loved this and as she was an excellent cook she would sometimes experiment at home. My father did not share her sense of adventure when it came to food and even when the new dish was excellent would proclaim. “Woman, you’re trying to poison me” and then proceed to eat it all.

My Mum was a great cook. We all have our favourite meals and will be struggling to replicate her recipes. I know some of our favourite times with Nana were the gatherings at Christmas. Our big day was always Boxing Day as all of our family was there. The cousins ( especially the boys ) would all play together and Nana would make sure they all had the right games – which usually meant air hockey, a ball hockey game, darts or Pitt. Pitt was always hilarious as you would have 10 people or more screaming Wheat, Oats, Barley, or whatever at the top of their lungs. Actually it sounded more like WHEAT, WHEAT, WHEAT drowning out someone else screaming OATS, OATS, OATS. It sounds chaotic and it was but no one could say they weren’t having fun

And being Christmas we all counted on Turkey dinner, with all the trimmings and especially sausage stuffing. Desert of course had to be a Christmas pudding, that Nana had made months before and that was set on fire with flaming Brandy. It was accompanied by hard sauce and whipped cream – followed by fruit salad so that it was a “healthy meal”.
And my Mum always put all of this together.

My Mum was a very practical – “Make a decision and get on with it type of person” . She was also a very independent person, who could look after herself very well in almost any circumstances and she wanted her children and grand-children to be like that. She felt the best way to make them independent was to teach them independence and give them the opportunity. It sometimes meant we had to learn the hard way. Martin remembers well his first day at Humbercrest Public School. He was in grade 1 or 2 and Mom walked him to school the first day…. and what Martin remembers is that he was to walk home. It made perfect sense to him – Mum would walk him there, now that he knew the way – he would walk home.
Remember – independence comes early in the Earle family.
So after school Martin started home – full of confidence. But it was misplaced confidence. His previous school had been on Toronto Island where there no cars just a few sidewalks. This was the city with cars, 4 way stop signs and too much choice. He got lost and started crying – and that was when my Grandmother found him. My Mum believed in creating independence but usually you got to ease into it so my Mum had arranged for Grandma to meet him – he had forgotten that point and so started off to prove his independence.

Amy well remembers shopping with Nana. As I said independence was key so when you went out with my Mum –She made it clear that your job was to keep up with her. Not for her to look out for you.
I will tell you it worked. When shopping with her I never went through
a revolving door without making sure I got in the same section as her. You didn’t want to get in the one behind and get stuck or lag behind. Of course old habits die hard and I will confess that even today, when following behind someone, and I am not paying attention, I have actually jumped into their section of a revolving door with them. It is somewhat embarrassing to say the least. And it always sounds so lame, as you’re stuck eyeball to eyeball with them if you say – Sorry, but its because of my mother.

Now in practice she was not as tough as it sounded. She always kept an eye on you but she wanted to see how you would react first before she would help you.

My Mum has been in London almost 30 years and had a very active life here. She became the Greenhills Tennis champion – I forgot to tell you she was also a tennis champion on Toronto Island, at the Old Mill Tennis club in Toronto and again in London at Greenhills. We have a plaque here that summarizes all the championships she won.
She was also a busy volunteer with Meals on Wheels, bombing around in her car serving meals to those who couldn’t get out and about. She has always been one of the most active and involved people I ever knew and was still exercising with her exercise class until last summer.

My Mum and Dad moved to London in the 80’s and it was here she started to work as a teacher again. Eventually she became the supervisor for Friendcare which ran all the programs in St Thomas and Elgin County for the developmentally challenged. She retired from Friendcare 15 years ago but still has good friends from that time. One of her friends – Lynn, wrote to her. Lynn is not here to day as she is overseas but I wanted to share her letter with you as it captures so many things about my Mum that Lynn expresses so much better.

LETTER FROM LYNN…. (I am not able to attach the letter but there is a condolence from Lynn that capture the essence of this letter quite well.

The one thing I will never forget about her is her loving, caring nature. Yes she could be tough – for she felt you had to take responsibility in your own life but she was extremely caring. We always felt her house was a refuge, if needed, for you knew if you had troubles she would listen and help you sort it out. It certainly became a refuge for her beloved animals as first Gracie, then Joey , then Coco came to live with her. – And it was a pretty good place for people as well – for those who stayed with her for a short time or a longer time.

My Mum was a Rainy Day person. By that I mean she actually relished Rainy Days – because you could get so much done on a rainy Day.
Rainy days were the perfect day to visit the zoo, the CN Tower, the park or any place that would be busy on a bright sunny day. Her logic was that the rain would keep the crowds away and that as it would “clear up by the time we got there” it was the perfect day. And you know what, most often she was right – I won’t mention the times she wasn’t.

As I look out at our family I see all of her characteristics out there amongst us – But they are not all there in one person for that one person was my Mum. But when we gather together as a family, with all our separate parts, we will know she is still there amongst us and we will forever be reminded of her.

We are now going to hear a song that was one of my Mum’s favourite’s.
So please take the time to reflect and remember my Mum.

“What a wonderful World” by Louis Armstrong.