I was very saddened to hear of Tom’s passing. Immediately thoughts of him over the many years flashed before me. From the moment Ian Carr-Harris and I interviewed him for the position of Media Librarian we knew that he was right for the job at OCA. With his good humor, intelligence and knowledge of Film, he impressed us all. No fond recollection of Tom could exclude his sense of humour. No one could tell a joke like Tom. Even if I knew the punch line , his method of delivery and elocution was always spot on eliciting laughter every time. Tom was also mischievous. I can’t count the number of times , on my leaving for lunch , that he would place an open Sun newspaper on my desk to the page that featured the Sunshine Girl. And of course, at his wedding , all who were there heard the following: Angelo , the cement truck has just arrived! I met Tom after we both left OCA on numerous occasions, after his illness. Without exception and always with tears in his eyes he spoke of how much Marusha meant to him and how grateful he was for her care of him in his time of need. 

My wife Maureen and I offer our sincerest condolences to Marusha, Vincent , Brendan and his extended family .  

Angelo Rao 

Marusha did a great job on that obituary. I honestly could not remember what city we were in when Tom came into our family. We moved so often. However, my strongest memory is that Tom made everybody around him happy. If someone in the room was wearing a grownups hat or a lampshade, it was my brother Tom . He made people laugh and feel good. He had a talent for that. Renee says his humor was as dry as his dad's . Understandably he is missed by  so many folks. Many of us will be looking unconsciously for another such fellow.  The kind comic heckler who elevates our adventure.

Tom was our "shooting star ".

I was a good friend of Tom's while we were undergraduates at the University of Guelph.  We loved Tom; I loved Tom. We never had enough of him as he was popular and had a wide circle of friends. As mentioned by Doug (hi Doug), Tom was wonderfully entertaining, funny, and smart. What stands out most in my memories of Tom was his friendship. Not with me in particular but with all of his friends. He would routinely tell stories of how great they were, the best at this, a big shot at xxx, fastest gun in the west, etc.  We are all warned about people who gossip and tell nasty stories about others. Tom was just the opposite; all of his friends and family, including his kids, were superstars in his tales. I am honored to have been one of his friends and sad that he is no longer here.

Mike Sharkey

There are no others who compare to Tom’s wit and sense of humour. We became friends in high school, and I am proud to have known Tom as my “Best Friend”! Tom made my youth one of the best decades of my life.

Some of the tamer memories ….. we were young boys drinking under age at the Elmira in Hamilton, trying to impress young girls, and Tom came up with some of the most ridiculous pick-up lines. One in particular stands out when we were sitting beside a table of attractive girls. Tom positioned himself such that the sole of his shoe was waving toward one of the girls. And on the sole of that shoe was a posted note that read…. “for a good time….…”. Upon the girl reading the note the other foot quickly went up reading “Call Tom” with his phone number.

After completing high school, we took a gap year and Tom, Rocky and I went on a ROAD TRIP. We drove an old shoe box Rambler out west. In Winnipeg the car battery was going dead. As a replacement we drove around a parking garage until we found an identical car. Do I need to tell you what our mission was? As my mechanical skills were, and still are, wanting, I was the lookout man. Tom and Rocky were the mechanics. The switch was completed in minutes. Days later after washing our laundry in Regina, I was driving on to Calgary. Both Tom and Rocky’s blue jeans and jackets were disintegrating. Battery acid! … I had to absorb rapid fire rabbit punches from the back seat where Tom was sitting.

In Edmonton we found jobs burning scrap metal at a Stelco plant. Yeah, three idiots from Hamilton find themselves penniless in Edmonton and find work at a Stelco plant. As we were exposed to the winter’s harsh elements a large Quonset hut was installed on railway ties, which blocked out the wind, and snow. To keep us warm a large makeshift furnace was installed in the hut. It was a n empty 50 -gallon oil drum fueled by a two-inch line of natural gas. The valve feeding the gas line was outside of the Quonset hut. At the start of a cold winter evening shift, Tom opened the gas valve line to the furnace. Then Tom, with his gift for eloquent stories, commenced with a yarn. Upon ending his tale, he entered the Quonset hut to light the furnace. Rocky and I both objected yelling to Tom that he should wait and turn off the gas to let the air clear, but, Tom was strongly adamant that we were not to turn off the gas. Rocky and I looked at each other and said, “he told us not to touch it”. To burn scrap we were dressed for the cold, and protected by wearing wool and cotton, plus safety gear, a mask, suede/leather gaiters and gloves. It was the early 70’s … long hair, beards and mustaches. Tom had shoulder-length hair with a mustache. Despite our objections, Tom remained adamant that we didn’t turn off that gas line valve. And we didn’t. We heard the scratching of the flint lighter, “click…. click…. BOOM”! The walls to the Quonset hut puffed out, like a wind sweeping through a campground tent. Rocky and I raced inside the hut to the smell of burnt hair. Tom standing still. All of his exposed hair was singed. The mustache was reduced to a David Niven look, and when he removed his hard hat he revealed a perfect bowl cut.

The stories go on. Tom made my youth entertaining and fun. As we matured, and I use that word loosely, I had the honour of being Tom’s Best Man when he married his love, Mary. I moved to Ottawa and later New Glasgow and missed his friendship. Our greetings and meetings were less frequent and unfortunately his illness was taking hold.

Mary, Vincent and Brandan, you should be proud of your dad. You should also be very proud for taking such good care of him.

I know we all know Tom in our own way. My memory banks are full of stories and images of a good man and best friend.

Thinking of my brother Tom and missing him today. The last time I had quality time with Tom was in August 2016. We visited the Christie St. home that he loved so much. One evening Tom, Brendan, myself and partner Richard, sat back in their lovely garden oasis and looked at family photos. We'd just visited the Bertrand Russell archives that our father had established at McMaster University, so many of the memories were related to Dad and our family's time in Ancaster and Hamilton. We also talked about our Cardiff family - Dad's brother Jack and sister Sheila. I treasured hearing Tom's memories of people who were our kin. As he was older, he had had a longer connection to our extended family than I did. It was a precious evening. 

He also shared stories of the early days of his marriage, the joy of welcoming his two sons, first Vincent and then Brendan. He talked about how grateful he was for Marusha as a devoted mother, and her family who helped so much when both he and Marusha were working full time and balancing the care of two young boys. He knew he had partnered with a powerhouse in Marusha, and that she kept the family on track. 

Tom was the youngest of four brothers and bookended by two younger sisters - not an easy family placement.  We had a big, busy family that moved house many times. Tom always seemed to be able to make friends and connect with people whenever we had to uproot and then establish ourselves in a new place. He was a beloved son to Will and Bess and a cherished brother to the five of us. I hold Tom in my heart and his legacy continues in the love and friendship he shared throughout his life and through his two remarkable sons Vincent and Brendan.  His love and pride for them shone through always.