The first Version is in French, scroll down to read the English Eulogy.

EN FRANCAIS

Née le 1ier Octobre 1938, Gerry et sa sœur Louise ont grandis dans une grande famille avec des parents, grands-parents, oncles et tantes qui les aiment beaucoup. Selon Louise, Gerry était bien connu au tour du Lac Connelly quand il était bébé à cause de ces pleurs qui résonnaient.

“Durant la guerre, quand on entendait la sirène, il fallait éteindre toute les lumières et les rideaux. La ville de Montréal était en noirceur totale. Le bruit de la sirène était si fort, qu’on en avait peur. Même si on nous disait que c’était seulement une pratique et que les Allemands ne viendraient jamais jusqu’ici… On ne sait jamais comme disait grand-mère Walsh.” Louise K. Pomeroy, sœur de Gerry.

Gerry et Louise on tous les deux été envoyées a l’école Couvent des Sœurs de la Providence dans St-Vincent-de-Paul. Ils y étaient pour environ 3 ans. Durant une journée de visite un Dimanche, Gerry voulait impressionner et a pris son bicycle. Il pédalait bien jusqu’à ce qu’il descende une pente très apique, a perdu le contrôle de son vélo et a foncé dans une voiture stationné. Bien sûr, il s’en est sorti seulement avec des égratignures sur les genoux, les mains et sa fierté.

Gerry a fait partit des scouts quelques années et allait au camp pendant 2 semaines avec un groupe qui s’appelaient les écureuils joyeux. Sa mère était inquiète quand Gerry partait dans le bois, mais il revenait toujours sain et sauf après 2 semaines avec son grand sourire et un sac plein de linges salles.
Gerry aimait tout réparer dans la maison lui-même, il n’était pas question de payer un professionnel! En 1960, il a complété son diplôme en mécanique pour réparer radio et télévision. Son habilité d’entreprendre des travaux par lui-même on dut venir de son père Georges. Une fois au chalet d’été, Georges terminait des rénovations proches de la chambre à Gerry. Un matin quand Louise déjeunais a la table à manger, Gerry marchait en-haut ou il y avait les rénovations et sur une des planches il a glissé et une planche de plywood est tombé directement sur la table à manger proche de ou Louise mangeait. Quand Louise regarda au plafond, elle voyait que la jambe à Gerry qui suspendait. Un autre exemple de Gerry le « Trouble Maker ». Dans leurs vingtaines, Gerry et Louise ont commencé à se faire des groupes d’amis différents et la vie de campagne ne les intéressaient plus. C’est à ce moment que Gerry à commencer sa passion pour la musique et a établi un groupe de music.
Gerry était le fier père de trois enfants, Chrystine, Daniel-Gilbert et Mathieu. La perte de Chrystine a seulement l’âge de 20ans fus une très grosse étape à surmonter dans sa vie et pour toute la famille. Il n’a jamais cessé de s’ennuyer d’elle ou de l’aimer.
Il était un joueur de guitare “Jazz” passionné, et si tu oubliais de dire le mot “Jazz” dans ce descriptif il t’aurait corrigé. Quand Gerry jouait sa guitare, c’était impossible de lui parler. Il était tellement consommer dans son art. Il n’aimait que le Jazz. Si tu étais en voiture et que ce n’était pas du Jazz qui jouait à la radio, la radio serait éteinte.

Gerry avait une sérieuse peur de ne pas être inclus. A l’âge de 65 ans, lui et Daniel on battu Mathieu (16 ans) et son amis Maxime a un match de Foot dans la cours-arrière du 174 rue St-Denis à St-Sauveur. Gerry, Daniel et Mathieu étaient aussi de sérieux partisans du Canadiens de Montréal. Ils ont passés des nombreuses soirées à s’obstiner comment rendre le Canadiens meilleurs. Selon Gerry, la solution c’est d’avoir plus de Québécois dans l’équipe. Peu importe son âge, 8 ou 77 ans, Gerry a toujours été profondément un gamin, un comédien et aussi un charmeur. Il avait un incroyable sens de l’humour, en autant que tu ne riais pas de lui. Son charme lui donnait un pouvoir hors-de-l ‘ordinaire. Gerry était vraiment un emblème de vivre avec un esprit jeune pour toujours.
Mis-a-part sa passion pour la musique et sa femme Helene, Gerry adorait faire de la voile et il a eu un bateau pendant 15 ans sur le Lac Champlain avec Helene et Mathieu. Il était un bon capitaine et n’a jamais arrêté de rêver de faire de la voile, même après qu’il l’est vendu. Après la voile, Gerry et Helene on achetées un VR et on voyager sur la cote-est du Canada et dans le sud des États-Unis pendant trois ans. Durant ces trois années, ils ont passés des moments romantiques, ils ont fait de nouvelles amitiés, ils ont fait du cheval sur la plage au Texas et on chasser les alligators dans les Everglades de la Floride.
Gerry laisse derrière une femme extraordinaire et qu’il aimait beaucoup. Helene et Gerry ont pris soins de un-et-l ‘autre durant les 5 dernières années quand les problèmes de santé ont commencé.
Ces 13 derniers mois en vie ont été en compagnie de sa femme Helene et de son fils Mathieu à Sydney en Australie. Il passait ces journées soit avec sa famille, à jouer de la guitare, ou des journées à la plage. Sa plage préférée était celle de Balmoral car il pouvait voire les bateaux-à-voile et sa lui rappelais les 15ans qu’il a passé sur le Lac Champlain. Dernièrement, il avait très hâtes de jouer une chanson (La vie en Rose) au mariage de Jenna et Mathieu, il pratiquait a tous les jours pour ce moment. Avant de nous quitter, Gerry était si heureux, il est parti en paix et calmement sans souffrance, et au côté d’Helene.

IN ENGLISH

Born on 1 October 1938, Gerry and his sister Louise grew up in a family with loving parents, grandparents and aunts and uncles who cared for them. From what Louise heard, as a baby, Gerry was very well known in Lake Connelly for his loud cries echoing around the lake where they spent their summers.
"During the war when a siren would be heard we would have to turn off all the lights and pull the blinds. The whole city of Montreal would be in total darkness. The siren sounded on and on and it was eerie and we were both scared – our having heard about the Germans. Though we were told it was only a practice and the Germans would never come this close.....but one never knows our grandma Walsh would say." Louise K. Pomeroy, sister of Gerry.
Gerry and Louise were sent to a boarding school ‘Couvent des Soeurs de la Providence’ in St-Vincent de Paul. They were there for about 3 years. One Sunday Gerry wanted to show off and got hold of a bicycle, he was doing fine until he found himself going down a very steep incline and lost control, crashing into a parked car. He got up holding his nose and his mum was screaming, certain he had broken his nose…..but he was okay except for skinned knees and hands, some damage to his school uniform and a dent in his pride.
Gerry was a boy scout for a couple of years and would go to camp for 2 weeks with a group called “Les Ecureuils Joyeux’ (The Happy Squirrels). Although his mother was worried, Gerry would return safe and sound from 2 weeks in the woods looking happy, very dirty and holding a big bag of laundry.
Gerry was a self-proclaimed builder and in 1960 got his radio and TV mechanical certificate. He continued to fix up every house he had, making small improvements to each home and the appliances inside it. He must have got this from his father Georges who spent his weekends and holidays working on the summer cottage. His father had built a breakfast nook and was continuing work on the rest of the cottage. One morning, as Louise sat at the breakfast table, little mischievous Gerry was walking on the beams still under construction. He slipped and a sheet of plywood fell directly down onto the breakfast nook with Gerry hanging on to one of the beams, his legs dangling in the air. The beam narrowly missed Louise who had just gotten up from the table to put the dishes in the sink when the plywood came down. Just one example of Gerry the troublemaker.
In his 20s, Gerry became interested in music, and was a very talented and passionate jazz guitar player (and if you didn’t mention jazz in that sentence he would correct you on it). He formed a jazz/ rock and roll band where he sang and was the lead guitarist with a thick set of gelled back black hair and a fashionable curl in his fringe. When Gerry was playing it was impossible to speak to him because he'd immerse himself so much into the music. He didn't like any other music than Jazz and if you turned on the radio and it was anything other than Jazz, he would yell "This isn't real music!". So to avoid making him angry, we would drive in silence most of the time.
Gerry was a proud father of three children; his daughter Chrystine and his two sons Daniel-Gilbert and Mathieu. The loss of Chrystine at the young age of 20 was a tremendous blow to Gerry and the family and he never stopped missing her or loving her. Gerry had serious fear of missing out which lead him to participate in a spirited and surprising game of football, Gerry (65 at the time) and Daniel beat Mathieu (16 at the time) and his friend Maxime. Gerry, Daniel and Mathieu were also very passionate Montreal Canadiens Ice Hockey fans and spent much of the winter cuddled together, screaming in front of the TV. Gerry was adamant that the key to the success of the Canadiens Hockey club was to have more French-Canadian players on the team!

Apart from his passion for music and his wife Helene, Gerry was a very keen sailor and the family had a sailboat for 15 years which they would sail every summer on Lake Champlain. He was a great sailor and the captain of the boat and never stopped dreaming about sailing. After they sold the boat, Gerry and Helene bought an RV and travelled around Southern USA for 3 years where they shared romantic moments, met a lot of their best friends and spent holidays with Mathieu riding horses on the beach and searching for crocodiles in the everglades.
No matter how old Gerry was 8 or 77, he always remained a prankster, a trouble maker and a heart breaker. He had a great sense of humour, unless you made fun of him... His charisma enabled him to convince others of doing things in his favour. Gerry was the true reflection of being forever young and living life to the fullest.
Gerry leaves behind his wonderful wife that he loved very much, Helene Lachance. Over the past 7 years, Helene and Gerry have looked after one-another when health issues begin. The final 13 months of his life were spent by his wife Helene and son Mathieu. During his final days he felt extremely happy, he spent most of his days playing guitar or going to the beach. His favourite beach was Balmoral because he could see all the beautiful sail boats which reminded him of the 17 years he had his own boat. He was very excited to play a song (La Vie en Rose) at Mathieu and Jenna’s wedding so recently he was practicing every day. If he wasn’t at the beach or playing guitar, he was with Helene, Mathieu or his new extended family on Jenna’s side that he loved very much. Gerry’s departure from earth was painless, peaceful and with Helene by his side.

Farida was born in Accra, Ghana on May 24, 1975. She was the eldest of 4 siblings. Although incredibly intelligent and ambitious, Farida was a visionary and slightly rebellious. Farida attended college at Lawrence, University in 1994, and later transferred to Oglethopre University. Farida was known to be very popular on campus, and was considered to be one of the most beautiful and nicest women at the school. While furthering her education, Farida was impregnated and shortly struggled with balancing school and her first child. Fortunately, Farida was blessed and had met her now Godmother, Jeanette Norman who helped her with raising their son, Idris Osei Mensa-Bonsu. Farida was a beautiful, kind, adventurous, loving, motherly, and elegant woman who only wanted what was best for her son and her family. She was a kind angel who would have sacrificed herself for anyone. Many people were very saddened by her death, but many found comfort in knowing that she is now with the Lord.

Mark was born to Rudy and Donna May Magera in Salt Lake City, Utah. He is survived by his father, stepmother Carrie, his sister Adreia Magera, his brothers Chad Hendry and Christopher Hendry, his nephews Michael{Mercedes} Magera and Valente Cardenas, niece Tela Cardenas, grandmother Betty Hardman, 3 great nieces many aunts, uncles and cousins and friends. Preceded in death by his mother

Wayne M. Persica, Sr. passed away on Friday December 11, 2015, at age 71. Beloved husband of Dianna Anselmo Persica of 49 years. Loving father of Catherine Persica Marie (Kelly), Wade J. Persica (Anna), and Wayne M. Persica, Jr. (Chastity). Adoring grandfather of Kellie, Emily, Kristopher, and Gracie Marie; Adam Maloz, Taylor, Jaycee, and Noah Wood; Kristen Cognevich, Tori Hamilton, Stevie Vioron, Anthony, Hannah, and Taylor Persica. Son of late Anthony Joseph Persica and Josie Boudreaux Persica. Brother of Gail P. Redding and Barry A. Persica. Wayne is also survived by great grandchildren, nieces and nephews.

When she walked into a room, everyone turned. Red hair flaming, she drew them in with her English accent and her larger-than-life theatricality. She was the center of attention – always.

She and Daddy threw parties for their friends, for the cast members of the plays she was in. My brother Bruce and I would fall asleep to the sound of their laughter as they played charades and sang around the piano that she played so beautifully. She threw wonderful birthday parties for us as well – always with a theme, always with some unusual decorative features. And that didn’t end when we grew up and moved away. I was home for a visit on the occasion of my 24th birthday, and Mummy presented me with 24 gifts, the 24th of which was a 24-carat necklace – made out of 24 real carrots.

She tended the most beautiful garden when we lived on Modoc Road in Santa Barbara. There were roses of red and yellow, and there must have been some cross-pollination, because one year, we noticed some peach-colored roses popping up in between the reds and the yellows. There were hanging baskets of crimson fuchsias that attracted humming birds with their iridescent breasts shimmering in the sunlight, and there were purple and red bougainvillea plants clinging to and wrapping around the wooden posts that held up the roof of our home. There was a waxy vine right outside of our kitchen door, with flowers that had an inner wax-like star shape surrounded by petals that felt like velvet. There was a purple passion plant, twisting and clinging to the slats of wood at one corner of our fence that was visited every year by hundreds of monarch butterflies, producing an explosion of undulating color. Mummy never stopped gardening – outside her little apartment where she spent the last two decades of her life, she created a fairyland of colors and scents reminiscent of an English garden in miniature.

She grew up in England, an only child of privilege, with nannies and governesses, but not much attention from her mother or her music professor/concert pianist father. When her parents separated, all the trappings of wealth disappeared, and the next experiences she chose to speak about were the memories she had of living through WWII in England. After the war’s end, she and her mother left England for the States and ended up in California. There, her teaching career began, and she taught, on and off, for many years.

She was an elementary school teacher, she was an art teacher, and she was a theater teacher. When she taught second grade at the Howard School, she was forever insisting that we save milk cartons, bits of string, walnut shells, orange peels – all for the magical projects she would invent to engage her young students. Later, in her studio at the Modoc Road address, she gave classes in oil and watercolor painting, often helping a student transform an amateurish painting into a masterpiece with the suggestion of just a single brush stroke here or the gentle smudging of paint there.

Her own paintings, which she exhibited for several years at the weekend Cabrillo Boulevard arts and crafts show, numbered in the hundreds, and her paintings probably still hang in homes all over the county. She painted oils on canvas and on Masonite, and while her subjects were varied, she had a real love of windows and doors. She also painted watercolors, and those paintings tended to be sunnier and lighter, with an emphasis on examples of nature’s bounty. She also worked with pen and ink and, late in her life, she created a series of drawings of anthropomorphic mice for use by a friend who was opening a little gift shop filled with mouse-inspired trinkets.

For many years, Mummy was an actress well-known to Santa Barbara’s community theatergoers. She set the stage on fire with her roles in The Women, The Boy with a Cart, Hello Dolly, The Chalk Garden, The Rose Tattoo – just to name a very few of the dozens of productions in which she had starring roles.

Everyone who knew Mummy in the last decades of her life knows how much she loved her precious dogs – Shelley, Sammy, Roxy, Ginger – but what they may not know is that Mummy had a place in her heart for all animals. When we were growing up, we had cats, guinea pigs, turtles, goldfish, but we also had a Mexican collared lizard who always greeted Mummy by lifting his chin up so she could stroke his neck. And we had a squirrel monkey, Mr. Higgins, who provided hours of entertainment for the entire family over a period of several years. She never said no to us when we asked if we could bring yet another pet into the household, and all of the animals we ever had gravitated toward Mummy, because she showered each one with such loving attention.

Mummy met our father at a USO dance in 1951, and they didn’t stop dancing together for the next 29 years. They created a joyful life for us when we were children, as only the very best parents do. When the music ended for them as a couple, Mummy just kept reinventing herself for the next four decades. She taught theater, she directed several plays, she taught painting at a retirement home, she continued gardening, and she began writing poetry. She self-published a book of poetry and, at the time of her death, she was still working on a second collection of poems.

Mummy’s death has left a hole in our hearts that can never be filled, but she has also left behind memories of a life well-lived, a life of vibrant colors and inventive games, of laughter and music, of theater and beautiful poetry.

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Obasi, Prof and Dean, Uzoechi Ogan was born on April 7, 1959 in Ibadan to Okoronkwo and Oyidia Ogan.
He loved sports. As a young man he was an avid table tennis player and in his later years he never missed a chance to catch his favourite team play a football match on tv.
A husband, father, brother, cousin,uncle and friend to many, Obasi was warm, full of life and had a great sense of humour. His bear hugs were second to none. He did not discriminate. Everyone was welcome in his home. He expressed love freely and was loved by all.
Obasi slept in the Lord on the 5th of December 2015. He will be dearly missed by his family and friends.