There is nothing more unsettling than being the last to know when a good friend dies. I would’ve heard sooner than later, but life isn’t always that accommodating.
His name is Ken Maynard. He lived here in Woodbridge most of his life, if not all of it. The Maynards came from Ireland back in the mid-1800s. It was a bone of contention between Ken and me because I say the Wallace clan arrived in Woodbridge a decade before the Maynards.
He’d rattle off an overwhelming bunch of statistics that to me proved absolutely nothing. Zilch!
Not that it matters. What matters is how Ken worked so readily, steadily for the Woodbridge community. I had no idea how the time he spent on local endeavors, taking no credit for them.
Here’s what I mean:
- He was a member of the Rotary Club of Woodbridge since 1962.
- A church warden of Christ Church in Woodbridge where he served as a lay delegate to the general synod.
- A longtime member of its cemetery board.
- Throw in his membership in the Hamilton Warplane Heritage museum.
- A board member of the Mackenzie branch 414 of the Royal Canadian Legion, having been a past president and Secretary manager of the Woodbridge Agricultural Society. Known lovingly as the Woodbridge Fair, held every Thanksgiving weekend.
- He was in charge - on the side - of the fair’s Giant pumpkin contest which was a major hit last year.
- Throw in Ken hand-building an off-grid cottage on an island in Georgian Bay and that says a lot about his spunkiness.
- Past chair of Vaughan Historical board. These are only a small sample of his accomplishments.
Author’s comment: Throw in all this with a patient wife, Taflyn Maynard and three sons who, I can only guess, shrugged with a shrug when Ken came up with another novel idea. 'Bye, good friend...
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