Obituary of William Gunter

BIOGRAPHY GUNTER ~ William John "Jack" Gunter passed away peacefully in the Riverside Health Complex, Turtleford, Saskatchewan on Friday, September 10, 2010 at the age of 98 years. Jack will be sadly missed by his chosen family Blake and Dorothy Johnson and their children: Travis Johnson, Jana and Mike Olson and their children: Jessica and Sara; Merle and Carlana Johnson and their children: Cali and Jack; cousins: Ken Gunter of Trenton, Ontario and his children: Peter Gunter and Lois Hutchings, Mary Ann Allen and Fred Allen of Edmonton, Dorothy Russell and her children: Robert of Glaslyn, Ronnie of North Battleford and Louise of Edmonton, Merv and Betty Gunter, Marlene and Angus Davidson, Vern Gunter and Lois, Neil, Ian and Sheila White as well as other cousins and many friends. The funeral service was conducted from the Mervin Hope Centre, Mervin, Saskatchewan on Wednesday, September 15, 2010 at 2:00 P.M. with Reverend Canon Donald Skinner officiating. The eulogy was read by Dorothy Johnson and Merle Johnson. The hymns sung were "Abide With Me" and "Nearer My God To Thee" accompanied on the organ by Noreen Williamson. The Mervin Community Choir was in attendance singing "Precious Lord Take My Hand". The honorary pallbearers were Ed Conacher, Tom Stewart, Cyril Fransoo, Earl Conacher, Nelson Prior, Pete Stewart and Walter Opperman. The active pallbearers were Jerome Fransoo, Ted Otteson, Travis Johnson, Merle Johnson, Albert Rose and Blair MacNab. Interment was held in the Mervin Cemetery. McCaw Funeral Service Ltd., of Lloydminster, Alberta administered the funeral arrangements. EULOGY William John ( Jack ) Gunter was the second child born to William and Ruby Gunter. Jack had an older brother that passed away at 10 days old, and 2 younger sisters. At the age of 12, Jack lost his father and became the man of the house. Times were very tough, but Jack's cousin Teavie Simpson came and helped out for 3 years. Through the hard work and tough times, Jack remembered the love and respect he and his mother and sisters had for each other. Jack was still in school at this time, but he disliked it very much and often found a project on the weekends that would still be going when it was time to go back to school on Monday. Neighbors and friends were extremely helpful to the family and everything Jack learned about farming was from them or by trial and error. His sisters, Belle and Ruby, worked like men with him, and he also did work for Chester Hicks, taking a cow or pigs as payment. Jack especially enjoyed the threshing bees, and his favorite place was Gordon MacNab Sr's. He recalled there were many pretty girls there to see at meal time. Jack lost his mother in 1957. Ruby married and moved to another farm east of him. He and his sister Belle continued to work together. Jack borrowed money for land and machinery to build up the farm. He said he was never late making a payment and never missed one. He never owned a tractor with a cab on it. He loved animals, raised many pigs, Hereford cattle and in the early years, horses. He said they had everything on the farm except sheep and goats. Ruby's husband passed away and it was lonely by herself on the farm so she moved back to live with Jack and Belle. Jack said he only had one disagreement with his sisters. It was when the power was coming in. They all agreed to get power in the yard but Jack only wanted it in the barn. Of course, the girls wanted it in the house for lighting, etc. In the end they put it in both places. He said no matter how late he was for supper, they always saved a plate and made a cup of tea. Together they enjoyed going to picnics, family reunions, and sports days. Belle's health failed and she passed away in 1987. Jack and Ruby worked together until her passing in 1994. Ruby was very sick in 1993, so they made a decision to rent the farm out. They rented the farm to Jerome Fransoo, Blair MacNab, and Blake (later Travis) Johnson. It was a terrible time for Jack after Ruby's death. He had always had his mother or sisters to cook and clean for him, and now he was alone. Our family, along with others visited and took meals, my mom cleaned his house once a week. Randolph delivered his mail. Everyone who stopped in had to have a cup of tea. Jack did love his tea, and it wasn't strong enough unless it had 2 bags in one cup. His favorite time of year was Christmas. He said even in hard times they always had candy and some little gift. He was a man of his word and I'm sure he did not have an enemy in the world. Jack remained on the farm for 7 more years. From there he moved to Turtle Lake Lodge until 2009 when he went to the Riverside Memorial Health Complex. Jack enjoyed the company and activities at both places, but still dearly missed the farm. The stories Jack could tell were never ending and his memory was very sharp until the end. He remained at Riverside until his passing last Friday. Jack lived a good and simple life. He was successful as a farmer, a true neighbor and donated to any and all charities. He believed in the church and supported it. Last week he told my mother and Don Skinner that he was ready to go and join his family. We will miss you Jack. In summary I'd like to read a poem which fits Jack and his life on the farm. ME - THE FARMER I'm glad I'm a farmer. Sometimes I'm angry about being a farmer. And disappointed. Elated. Puzzled. Worried. And, I suppose, every emotion in the book. But I'm glad I'm a farmer. Because I know what I am. And what I feel. I feel I'm akin to my land and the things that grow on my land ... And the sky over my land and the water that falls on it and flows through it ... And the livestock that sustains itself upon my land ... And the buildings that shelter me and my sisters and the machines that help to make my land fruitful. These are a bone-deep part of me. As is sweat. Cloudburst. Drought. Repairs. Disease. Heartache. Market losses. And profits. Sowing. Reaping. And a hundred and one setbacks and successes, large and small, that other men may never know. But that I know, And am content with. Not because farming is easy. It isn't. Or because a farmer enjoys fame. He doesn't. Or because a farmer like me is a wealthy man. I am not. It's simply because I know what I am. And I know what I feel. I wouldn't have me any other way. Me - the farmer. Donations in memory of Jack may be made to the Turtleford Health Complex.