Jack Smith, Nov. 14, 1954 - Apr. 21, 2007

Jack and I sailed together from time to time, both racing and cruising, and that fearlessness sure came in handy. You know, it's been said that, if you can keep your head when all around you are losing theirs, then you obviously don't understand the situation. But that's not where Jack was at. He usually understood the situation clearly. He just knew what mattered and what didn't. No need to panic.

And let's not forget his physical strength. He could pull lines in with one hand that I needed my whole body for.

When Jen and Andrea asked me to do this, I said of course, I'd be honoured, because Jack has always been such a great friend to me. And I knew immediately how the eulogy started, and I knew how it ended, but I was a bit stuck on the middle parts. And then I realized, well, that's because there's just so much rich material to work with.

Now, it would be easy to stand up here and tell Jack stories. If you know Jack, and you know Jack about Jack, you know Jack stories. Stories that are funny or heartwarming or both. Stories about work, fishing, darts, baseball, golf, sailing. Stories about parties. Stories about how Jack helped. But I think we'll save those for later, because, when the sadness of this day lifts, we'll still have those stories to remember Jack by, to comfort us, and to make us realize how much richer we are for having known him.

No, the challenge today is to summarize and celebrate this man's life, and I don't really know whether I'm up to that task, so all I can do is tell you how I knew Jack, and what I knew him to be.

I knew Jack in good times and in hard times, both his and mine, and he was always there when I needed him. And I knew Jack as an honorable man who always did his absolute best to take care of his own and to help his friends. He was a good listener with a quick mind. If you told him something in confidence, it stayed that way. But he was never slow to tell you what he thought – especially if he thought you were being an idiot.

Jack was an extraordinarily generous man, and everybody will have a story to prove that. He gave and gave and gave, sometimes 'til it hurt. No one was ever taken to the cleaners by Jack, unless they were playing poker with him.

Jack loved his children and grandchildren deeply, and I hope all of you here today will take it upon yourselves to keep his memory alive in those grandchildren, and to remind them of just how extraordinary a man their Poppy was.

And if I were to offer up a prayer today, it would be but three words: More Like Him.

In closing, it is my sincere hope, whether you knew him as a son, nephew, brother, cousin, husband, friend, father, uncle, or as Poppy, that at some point on this day, you'll tell a story and lift a glass to my friend Jack.

Tom Woodhead