Obituary of James Henry McLellan III

James Henry McLellan III was born to Catherine Borden McLellan and James H. McLellan, Jr. on June 19, 1945 in New York City in a climate of great celebration. That same day four and a half million people lined lower Broadway, to welcome General Dwight D. Eisenhower home from Europe with showers of tickertape and confetti. Known first as Jimmy, later as Jim or J3, he grew up mostly in Connecticut and New Jersey. At the age of 5 he had an unexplained high fever; later it was surmised that he had had a mild case of polio, due to the fact that his right leg did not grow as large as his left. Jim always loved music – he knew classical, jazz, pop and folk. He played drums and was the drum major in his high school marching band. Following graduation from Morris Hills Regional High School in Rockaway, New Jersey in 1963, he went on to the University of Tulsa for one year. He worked along with some pals from Tulsa, for the Forest Service in Idaho that summer. He returned home to New Jersey and "was rudderless". As Jim told it, his parents "paid off my Triumph TR3, gave me 200 bucks and said Go seek your fortune". He wound up back in Tulsa because he knew people there, got a job at St John's Hospital as an operating room orderly, and became interested in anesthesiology. He worked a summer for National Trailer Convoy transporting mobile homes; he took a two week training course in Tulsa, then spent his 21st birthday on a Greyhound bus between Tulsa and Millidgeville, Georgia where he got his commercial chauffer's license and began driving. This is when his love of truck-driving began. He returned to a job in the Oxygen Therapy department at St John's Hospital, which ultimately became Respiratory Therapy. He met and married Judy Micek (who was a student nurse). The hospital tried to start a course for respiratory therapists that would result in certification; Jim studied for a year and did clinical experience (worked for free) – at the end of the year the group had not achieved what they needed to be certified, so they sued the hospital for not living up to their agreement. By petitioning accredited schools and asking for acceptance mid-term, Jim was accepted by North Carolina Baptist Hospital in Winston-Salem where he completed his studies and became one of the earliest registered respiratory therapists. Jim was hired as the chief respiratory therapist by St Vincent's Hospital in Bridgeport, Connecticut. Down the road from the hospital, Ocean Systems (then one of the largest diving companies in the world) had a facility with diving chamber systems and Dr. Bill Hamilton was leading a team of researchers who were looking at using a neon/helium gas mix as a breathing medium for deep diving. Jim became interested in the work – he did a 680 foot dive as a subject in the research, and then worked on several more experiments as a 'top-side person'. He then applied to and was accepted at Santa Barbara City College in order to take a 2 year program to become a diver; this was a necessary step if he was to pursue a career in the diving industry. Jim, Judy and 6 month old Heather moved to California and Judy supported the family while Jim went to school. At the end of the first year of studies, Judy became pregnant again, so could not continue to work, thus Jim's schooling came to an early end (1972). He had learned a great deal, and with his previous background and a strong recommendation from Bill Hamilton, Jim was hired by CanDive to work off Halifax and Newfoundland. The family moved to the property on the Ridge Road in Wolfville, once owned by Jim's grandfather, Karl "Pope" Borden and then by "Auntie" Leah Borden and finally by Jim's parents, and ever since known to the family as Borden House. Two sons, Jamie and Brett were born during this time. A few years later, due to mineral rights ownership arguments between federal and provincial governments, the drilling off Nova Scotia ceased; the operations were moved down the east coast off Atlantic City and CanDive lost the contract. Jim went to work for International Underwater Contractors of City Island, New York – they were developing the North Sea Hyperbaric Centre in Dundee, and Jim was soon hired to be the medic on that project. The McLellans moved to Scotland where baby Sadye arrived to complete the family. Jim was later hired by Stolt Neilsen Seaway of Aberdeen and Haugesund, Norway, to be the senior life support supervisor on their new diving vessel, Seaway Swan. He worked with Seaway for fifteen years. Friendships formed at that time were some of the longest-held and closest in Jim's life. A diver he worked with, who remained a dear friend, said "Jim had our lives in his hands and I knew I could trust him completely." Jim was also the database manager for the HADES project (Highest Accumulated Decompression Scores) under the direction of Jan-Erik Jacobsen and Alf Brubakk. ( http://link.springer.com/chapter/10.1007/978-94-011-3544-3_25 ) The project developed methods for evaluating decompression tables and studied the effect of diving activity and environmental factors upon decompression outcomes. The database contains detailed information about over 2000 saturation dives performed by a stable population of divers. By 1990, the manned diving industry was being undermined by the increasing success, safety, cost-effectiveness and versatility of remote operated vehicles. Jim returned to the US on his own and began his third career as a long-haul truck driver. Based from his brother's address in Tampa, Florida, then Dallas, Texas, Jim lived in his truck for 13 years, clocking over 2 million accident-free miles while leased to Werner Enterprises of Omaha, Nebraska. The modifications to the layout and equipment in the cab of his truck were legendary. The passenger seat was replaced with a small fridge, a microwave, coffee maker, computer and printer, stereo system, and ham radio station. (For a glimpse, go to https://www.qrz.com/lookup - search K5BAA.) In 2005 Jim's beloved Mum became unable to spend her winters in New Jersey and needed some support to continue to live in her own home. Jim made the decision to give up his career and return to Borden House to help. Their relationship was a special one, full of love, humour and a healthy dose of independence. They were very alike in their love of songs and verses, impeccable record-keeping, creative projects, and collecting materials and tools "for future use". Jim gave her attentive care and lots of space, while managing the household and her healthcare needs. In 2007 he met Lisa Hammett Vaughan, and in 2010 they married. Jim's last years were filled with love and laughter, music and good food, an intensive study of woodturning including making and sharpening tools, volunteering with Deep Roots Music Festival, petting the dogs, puttering in his workshops and inventing things. He worked with passion on the cause of the Lost Canadians, and in August 2015 was finally rewarded with acknowledgment of his Canadian citizenship, retroactive to 1947 (the date of the Canadian Citizenship Act). Unfortunately it was too late to receive the health care he needed to save his life. On New Year's Day he received the diagnosis – lung cancer with metastasis to the brain – terminal – 4 to 6 months. Thankfully he was eligible to receive excellent treatment from both the Nova Scotia Cancer Centre team and the Annapolis Valley Health palliative care team. His family all came for visits, and his old friends reached out and reminisced. At the beginning of September, he had the satisfaction of seeing his Mum pass away peacefully in her own home at age 98 with her family around her; he had seen her through. At the end of the month, Jim's time came. His wife, his brother and his dear friends Donna Stevenson and Jennine Wilson were by his side. He died the way he lived – with courage and humour. Jim was a playful and funny man, a generous and loyal friend, intelligent and knowledgeable about many things. He could fix anything. He had a practical, no-nonsense approach to most things in life. He didn't want anyone to be overly sad about his passing – but there are many people who loved him well and will miss him fiercely. Jim was predeceased by his son Brett, father Jim, and mother Catherine. His beautiful life and his hilarious antics will be remembered with joy by his wife Lisa, daughter Heather (Aviemore, Scotland; Jimmy White) and grandsons Joe and Logan, son Jamie (Irving, Texas; Angie) and grandchildren Julia, Jenna and James, daughter Sadye "Sam" (London, England; Jon Orford) and grandson Austin, brother John (Dallas, Texas; Nancy Latner), sister Jeanie (Layton, New Jersey; Tom Eberhardt), nieces Kerry and Anna (Brett Harper) and great-nephews Waylon and Ranger, and other relatives and friends. Arrangements have been entrusted to Serenity Lindsay Annapolis Valley Funeral Home & Chapels, 34 Coldbrook Village Park Dr (902-679-2822). There will be no funeral. A celebration dance in Jim's memory will be held at a later date. Donations in Jim's memory may be made to the Valley Community Learning Association (www.vcla.ca) here: https://www.canadahelps.org/en/charities/valley-community-learning-association/ A tribute written by Don Chapman, champion of the Lost Canadians, which he sent to Jim a few days before Jim died: Writing a eulogy is never easy. It's also a different penning one before, not after the person passes. With you Jim, I want you to know just what you mean to me, and to the tens of thousands of others whose lives were so intertwined with yours through Lost Canadians. Most people with citizenship problems stood on the sidelines, afraid or not wanting to take a stand. This wasn't you- not even close, because long ago you didn't just speak the words, but lived your beliefs that equal rights belonged to everyone- including those who wouldn't raise their head above the sand. You, along with just a handful of others, saw the bigger picture, then went out and did something about it. The result? Our world was changed for the better. For you, what mattered was your fellow man. In my book I said this regarding equal rights: "I began to understand more about Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., especially when he led thousands across the Edmund Pettus bridge in Selma, Alabama. In life, most people watch. Few actually march." Jim, in one way or another you've been marching all your life, and it certainly wasn't in vain. You helped to change the lives of thousands upon thousands of others for the better. Most have no idea that you were part of our small band of people spread throughout the world, all dedicated to making Canada more inclusive and accepting. And together, we prevailed. While one in thirty five Canadians was directly affected, every Canadian on the planet woke up to new laws on citizenship equality. At it's core the issue was about women's rights. For the first time in Canadian history, women advanced, and you, as a man, were integral to that victory. Canada has extended no honours or gratitude- and to date the government hasn't apologized. I'm sorry that you will never hear it, but rest assured that in time when the injustices are acknowledged, the footprint you left on our hearts will not be forgotten. As a product of the 1960's, you really did change the world through Peace and Love. Because of you, I'm a better person, and mankind is better off. The words of Margaret Meade are just so apropos: "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it is the only thing that ever has." I will miss you my good friend. In the truest meaning of the word, we love you Jim, Don Our friend Holly Flaherty sent us this poem in January or February, and Jim said "Hang on to that one." In his last week I asked him if he still liked this poem and he said he did, very much. Death Is Nothing At All By Henry Scott-Holland Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just round the corner. All is well. Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost. One brief moment and all will be as it was before. How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!