Paul S. White  Sr., ceded  his 105 year old bonds to Lake of Bays  at  7:17  p.m. on May 4th, 2008, quietly at home at  South Portage. His formal obituary appears elsewhere, and contains sober facts of his long and active life.

His eldest son, Paul Jr., knew him longest, and vivid memories are many and varied.  They centre on life at Britannia Hotel, founded by Paul Sr.’s  father at the turn of the century, which played a major role in his life and those of his four children, as well as  many people who were employed or spent holidays there.

Paul, his father Tom’s only son, led a full and charmed life – through two World Wars and minor conflicts, being two young for WWI and too involved in the vital industry of  aluminum and a single parent of four children, to join the military in WWII. The 1939-45 war was hugely stressful for him (and family) as a Montreal-based senior executive in the demanding Aluminum Co. of Canada’s war effort – but each year saw some fun and frolic at Britannia.

In his youth he had chased tennis balls, golf balls, beavers at the ever rebuilt “dam,” fish and game birds at every opportunity. He heard of Canada’s entry to WWII in early 1939 from the caddy shack radio at Britannia’s 9 hole golf course, and met three of his four wives on the hotel’s 500-acre groundss.

As the Great Depression was gradually defeated by the activity of World War II, he enjoyed skiing on occasion at the newly developing Laurentian Mountain resorts in Quebec. When he took over Britannia in 1956 after his father’s passing, he developed a ski hill with a Pomalift tow and a curling rink, while he had the old main building completely rebuilt.

He enjoyed the construction program, but holiday practices were changing rapidly from long-term family vacations to short-term visits and he decided that he was not cut out to be a jolly innkeeper. He sold the property in the early 1970s. He retained ten acres at Echo Point and Bay on the Lake, and married his beloved wife Marion in 1972 to live in their large Panabode log house until Marion pre-deceased him by a few years, and then  until he sold the residence in 2006. They enjoyed community duties, world travel, social pleasures and he continued to hunt and fish and golf, adding maple syrup production  and minor logging to his many activities.

His political preferences were right of centre, and when the Diefenbaker-era Munsinger scandal hit the public press, he read those lurid headlines at breakfast and said sorrowfully, “ It’s getting so that you can’t even trust the Conservatives any more!”

Aircraft was something of a miracle to him:  he rarely boarded flights – and only when there was no choice.

When he lost the love of his life, Marion, his outer shell was breached by his disappointment at the loss. Things were never  the same, as he sought to fill his days with physical activities, domestic duties, and the occasional winter holiday to golf or chase game birds in the south.

He knew many local residents well, especially the many who had been employed at Britannia over the years, and was a treasure trove of memories of Mr. G.B. Shaw’s many pursuits,  of  Algonquin Park and environs, of  Lake of Bays villages and towns, and the social life of Huntsville and surrounding countryside in  more than a century’s active experiences in changing times.

Paul Sr. became the oldest living ex-director of Alcan Ltd., the only company he ever worked for, and attended the company’s annual meetings in Montreal until a very few years ago. He enjoyed special status as a man who was retired for almost twice as long as he toiled for reward in his chosen industry, and seemed to think that everyone had as much time as he took to deal with minor business.  Retail clerks and service people were often exasperated by his bargaining persistence, but he often won the day. He recently exploded at the news that a taxi driver had charged a visitor $5 more than the negotiated normal fare from town, and when questioned he  responded, “Well I can’t let myself be skinned!” There was never much fear of that!

He became legally blind but drove his car when he could get away with it, and drove a 4 wheel ATV each day to get his mail until recently. He cut wood, tapped maple trees, drove his power boat, barked at his small poodle Pepi, shouted at his children as well as at many others who were trying to help him, mostly in vain, until he was 103. He mellowed a little in his last few years, becoming more considerate and forgiving, a long route in a short time. The poodle survives him, at 16 years, and may well return to Marion’s daughter, who gave him to her mother as a pup.

His  active longevity may have been due to remarkable Irish genes, but unrelenting optimism and resolute refusal to dwell on setbacks, all helped by good health habits, seemed to give him the advantage of a  long,  fruitful  life. Few of us have experienced, or will ever enjoy 26 leap years, and if we do it is unlikely that those decades will be as active as Paul’s life on Lake of Bays, in  La Belle Province, and wherever he travelled on the way.

Paul and Marion’s many contributions to Muskoka life should  be expressed elsewhere in detail, and he will no longer display his exceptional charm  before his fireplace at Echo Point. He was an “original” – predictable to his children and friends, but stubborn and resolute, argumentative and forgiving, shouting in his late  deafness, believing that he always knew what was right and fitting. One of his progeny was heard to state to the throng at his 100th birthday party that, “It’s not that I don’t respect him, it’s that I don’t agree with him.” The speaker was not alone.

   His passing was merciful, and his pulse waned after his 105th birthday celebration, until he ceded defeat for the first time. Original indeed!