From Arno

September 7, 2011
Dear Maureen and members of John's family,
The death of our dear friend John has left a heavy feeling on our hearts, and yet we are grateful that his ordeal is over and we celebrate his life.  We loved him.  We will miss him.  
Recollections of John are deep and lasting.  We genuinely liked him.  After first meeting him at a social occasion, when he told me about his workshop and model ships, I called to ask if I could visit.  John was most gracious.  We hardly knew each other, but after our first meeting I felt that I'd known John for a long time.  We had a cup of coffee and a good chat and spent an hour or so in his world, the workshop.    That was the beginning of a very good friendship.
John spent years at sea, so he understood its ups and downs and he appreciated the meaning of “steady as she goes”.   James A. Garfield (1831-1881), the 20th president of the United States, put it better than I can:

“I have seen the sea lashed into fury and tossed into spray,

and its grandeur moves the soul of the dullest man.

But I remember that it is not the billows, but the calm level of the sea

from which all heights and depths are measured."  James A. Garfield

John sought the calm level of the sea in his carefully measured approach to life.  As they say, what you see is what you got -- no airs, no presumption, opinionated, yes, but thoughtful enough not to try to proselytize.  John had his views and he was comfortable with them.  He seemed to be able to endure differing views without rancor.  He lived his life as much as possible without imposing on others. We’ve come to appreciate the characteristic that is valued so highly here on Arran - - John didn’t complain, he ‘got on with it’.
And, returning to Garfield’s point, John was a metaphor for measurement.  He was a measurer of things -- keeping careful charts of events and using the measurements to assess experiences.  Some people just go from place A to place B.  John planned ahead and then calculated to evaluate the outcome.  He knew when he left A, how long the journey took, how much petrol he had consumed, etc.  It was a special part of his personality.  John presented us with a device that predicts the weather and measures wind speed, temperature, humidity, atomic time and rainfall.  I hope he won’t judge us too harshly, but we’re still surprised when the weather changes!  He made and gave us a device to measure the fuel in our tank.  We used it last week, because the digital device we plugged in and tried to calibrate has never worked properly.
Even as John's health failed and he had to come to grips with the cancer that was consuming him, and the often haphazard approach of his medical care, John tried to be cheery and positive.  He called us every week for the past year, or we called him.  It was always a positive experience to talk with him.  His recent call from Cross House Hospital was to say he would be transferred to the War Memorial Hospital for a few days before returning home.   We know he wanted to be positive for the sake of those around him, even when he must have felt despair.
We enjoyed John’s recollections - - the merchant marine, the Lagg Hotel, his family and his childhood.  We have enjoyed reading his memoirs of Yorkshire and listening to his recordings of life around him.  We were honored that he would share those experiences, because in doing so he was reliving them himself, such was his imagination, and sharing them with us. 
We are reflecting on the inscription on that beautiful bench on the shore at Kildonan, which  asks: "Does the song of the sea end at the shore, or in the hearts of those who listen?"  Knowing John as a friend helps us answer that question with better understanding.  That’s why we celebrate John’s life as we extend deepest sympathy to each of you. 
My planned return to the U.S. this week will prevent me from attending the service on September 13, but Mary will be there and I will be recalling all the fine memories of John that have been collected over the years.
Sincerely,

Arno and Mary