Ken Tancock Celebration of Life

Hmm, how do I begin to describe Ken Tancock and the impact he had on my life? For starters, I must confess it is still difficult for me to call him Ken. At Laurier, we always called him Mr. Tancock or just Tancock, not out of disrespect but because it had a powerful, decisive ring to it, both of which he was. High school was not an easy time for me. I was self-conscious, an outsider to the Guildwood community and, overall, it was a lonely time for me. I did love to learn, however, so I clung to those who were serious about teaching and cared about their students. Thus I cannot overstate the importance Ken Tancock played in my life. I remember him striding into the classroom, fairly bursting with energy, often sporting a dark turtleneck and desert boots, if I'm not mistaken, both of which I consequently still have a fondness for, whether in style or not. Though not a tall man, his forward momentum made him seem like a giant to me. Tancock would drop his large stack of materials with...

Mr. Tancock was my Grade 9 and 10 history teacher. He retired when I was in Grade 11 – an early retirement age I am starting to envy – and I wrote a goodbye for his assembly. A lot of students used to think Mr. Tancock looked a bit like the Laurier statue in the  foyer (or Laurier looked a bit like Mr. Tancock).   We kept in touch over the years. His was always the first Christmas card I received, and it was always so interesting and with a beautiful photo he had taken. There were many visits to his home in Port Hope. I think one of my favourites was an impromptu one when I was returning to Kingston from Toronto and saw the turn off and thought, maybe he’s not busy. I called from a pay phone (as I write this now, I realize it must be a good 10 plus years ago) and said, “I’m sort of nearby.” I was around the corner at a grocery store. Another time we drove around Port Hope and looked at historic houses and he shared some local history with me. I love local hist...

Lucie Ben Johanna Maxine

This year, our book club is celebrating its 50th anniversary. It started in 1971 when we all attended a conference of Toronto and Montreal history teachers in the Laurentians. We decided to form a book club to widen our reading choices and to maintain social contacts. Babs and Ken were joined by Lil and Fred McFadden, Stan Pearl and Anne Christie, Muriel and Mike Roberts, Valerie and Alex Hewlitt, and later Rivi and George Ullman, Pat and Frank Plue, Lorna Earl, Sandra Steele, and Barb and Peter Lipman.  Eight times a year we met for dinner, drinks and a book discussion.   Our gathering in Port Hope was an annual highlight. We were refreshed by libations, a swim (for some) and the discussion of our chosen book. The evening was topped by Babs’s baked ham and scalloped potatoes dinner. We enjoyed many years of gracious hospitality at the historic home at 5 King Street.   Ken loved books and reading. Port Hope booksellers are in grief.   He was politically...

 

During the many years I knew Ken and so enjoyed working with him on our NDP campaigns, attending social gatherings and meetings, my most memorable times were spent one to one. He didn’t spend much time on perfunctory, cordial chats. His keen mind, with a natural intuitiveness and genuine inquisitiveness, elicited conversation on many topics. Our favorites were often sharing stories of mutual interest. As a young man, Ken worked in the logging camps and was delighted to hear that my mother was once an organizer in the camps. This knowledge led to many other conversations about social justice and activism. He was a man full of curiosity and introspection. Always pragmatically optimistic, one could not feel disillusioned by life when in his presence. He was loyal to his beliefs and principles, a seeker of knowledge which he freely shared. Always an educator, he captivated his listeners, challenged critical thinking and respected differences of opinions. I loved Ken’s sense of humo...