In Memoriam: Lil (Harris) Jones
UPDATE: The following appeared in the Montreal Gazette on August 15th:
HARRIS-JONES, Lily
It is with great sadness that we announce the passing of Lily Harris-Jones in her 94th year. Predeceased by her husband Earl Jones and survived by her loving son Brian and his wife Karen. Lil was a true character who will be missed by her family and friends. The family would like to thank Brenda Morris and family for all their care and love, as well as Helene Piche and Sheryl Skinner for their professionalism and friendship during her final years. Visitation will be at the Laurent Theriault Funeral Home, 510 rue de l'Eglise, Verdun, Quebec on Thursday, August 27, between 1 p.m. and 4 p.m. A service will be held at the Field of Honor in Pointe Claire, Quebec, on Friday August 28, at 1:30 p.m. In lieu of flowers, a donation to a charity of your choice is preferred.
ORIGINAL POST:
March 22, 1926 - August 2, 2020
Feisty.
It’s a word that always seemed to fit Lil like a glove.
She lived life on her own terms and did not suffer fools gladly.
Born into the Roaring 20s, Lil Harris grew up in the lean, mean years of the Depression.
She was, as she once told me, “one of the first customers” of the new Verdun United Church when it opened on Woodland Avenue in 1931. She attended Woodland School (now Verdun Elementary) when there was a Girls’ side and a Boys’ side. There is a picture somewhere of her standing with her classmates on the steps of the Girls’ entrance, taken sometime in the 1930s. That door would become the door to SouthWest Mission from 2008 to 2019, where Lil would attend Wednesday services, pitch in to help with Wednesday lunches, and dress up like an elf for children’s Christmas parties.
During World War II, Lil was a teenager flirting with boys on the Verdun Boardwalk. She remembered ration cards and air raid drills, and girls drawing fake seams down the back of their bare legs with eyebrow pencil to give the illusion of silk stockings.
I started to interview Lil about her life last fall, back before the lockdown. She wasn’t very comfortable talking on the phone and I kept saying I would go by and see her one day. Even then, her physical limitations meant she wasn’t getting out to church often. I talked to Lil a few times after the pandemic hit, to get news of what was happening at the Floralies Lasalle where she lived, and to make sure she was receiving her Friday newsletter (she was, but sometimes more than a week late as the residence carefully disinfected everything coming in). She managed to avoid Covid-19, although dozens of residents became infected, but the isolation took a toll.
Our face-to-face interview never happened, so there are many years of Lil’s life I don’t know about. Some of you probably know much more. I know that for decades she gave of her energy and talents to help keep our church going. And she made sure others did their part too: Lil would sidle up to you on a Sunday morning and request - order is more like it - a tray of your trademark squares or a three-bean-salad for the next church event. Braver women than I have been intimidated by that gravelly voice and those piercing blue-green eyes. Incidentally, we all knew Lil had a longer given name, but we were not permitted to use it. “Lil” would do just fine.
She was a good sport who loved good food and playing bingo. She will be sadly missed.
Lil had made pre-arrangements with Laurent Theriault Funeral Home, but as of this printing we don’t know any specifics about a celebration of life. Messages of condolence can be left on their website here.
At SouthWest, 2005
Amy