Jim Dean, VE3IQ passes on... a pillar of the Radio Amateurs of Canada has left this earth.
As many of you know, Jim Dean, VE3IQ has been a pillar of RAC for many years and his counsel was sought by a great many in the amateur community both nationally and internationally. Among his many roles he served internationally as our man in Geneva for WRC conferences, domestically as a Canadian Amateur Radio Advisory Board (CARAB) liaison and an advisor to many RAC Presidents including myself. He will be missed.
Geoffrey Bawden VE4BAW; President and Chair, RAC
A memorial by his son James IV:
"The best guy in the world died today at noon, the day after his granddaughter's wedding.
My father, Captain (N) James G. Dean, Ret'd, born May 20, 1937 in Toronto, died January 3, 2015 in Ottawa at the age of 77, five years after being diagnosed with colon cancer which eventually spread to his liver and lungs. He passed away peacefully at home with my Mom at his side. My wife and I had visited him a few hours earlier, and we returned 10 minutes too late to be with him at the end.
At 18 he left home and enrolled at the Royal Military College in Kingston, ON. It is there he met my mother, a nursing student at Queens. After 4 years at RMC and a 5th at U of Toronto, he graduated as an Electrical Engineer. He and Mom married in 1960 and moved first to Halifax NS and then Victoria BC, where both my brother Peter Dean and I were born. From there it was on to the U.S. Naval Postgraduate Institute in Monterey CA for 3 years while he completed a Masters Degree in Electrical Engineering. We arrived back in Canada the day before Canada's 100th birthday on July 1st 1967. Since then we have lived in Ottawa, Halifax, Ottawa again, Halifax again, and finally in 1982 back to Ottawa for good. He served on several ships and was the first Combat Systems Engineer on the DDH 280 HMCS Iroquois in the 1970s. His final Navy job was as the Deputy Program Manager for the Patrol Frigate program which oversaw the design and delivery of Canada's 12 frigates in the 80s & 90s. He retired from the Navy at the age of 56, proud to have served his country for 38 years, proud to have "got my blues (navy uniform) back" after the very unpopular Trudeau-Hellyer merging of the Canadian Armed Forces into one green uniform. He consulted for a few years with military consulting company CFN, but mostly retired to his ham radio and gardening with Mom.
Forgive me for saying it this way, but the way he and Mom loved each other and cared for each other was so deep, so true, and so cute, it made me want to barf sometimes. Their marriage after 54 years was as strong as it ever had been, and maybe more.
He was a great Dad, teacher of many things, Little League umpire, camper and canoe-er. I mean this as the highest compliment I can give: He was not my best friend. He was the best father I could possibly have had. I have many fond memories of course, but a treasured one was when I was away at university and had some sadness at the start of my 3rd year, Dad came to Acadia and lived with me in my dorm room for a weekend. How many 44-year-old guys would want to do that? We didn't really talk, we were just together, and I felt so much better. Later, when I was 23 and just a few months into my first job at BNR and my own marriage, I was making enough money that I could take him to the 1985 Grey Cup in Montreal. I was very proud of myself. In more recent years, I loved being able to take him to Ottawa Senators games, Dad having shed his childhood affection for the Toronto Maple Leafs.
After his family, and the Navy, Dad's passion was Amateur Radio. Although he had several call signs over the years, he was mostly known by VE3DRV in the early years, and VE3IQ in the later years. He talked to people all over the world, and in the days before satellite phones, he provided "phone patch" service to military personnel at Alert, our most northern output, so that they could talk with loved ones back here.
My father was the epitome of an officer and a gentlemen. When a taxi driver once cut us off by going from left lane, across the center lane where we were, and into the right lane, I told my Dad he was going to give that guy the finger for me. "Right!" says my Dad. I sped up and as we got beside the taxi, I said, "Now, Dad, now!". But instead of flipping him the bird with his middle finger as I had wanted, my father raised his index finger and shook it in the universal "Tsk, tsk" motion. I really should have known better.
Dad's wishes were to have an instant cremation and for us to hold a small service for him later, on a weekend so that people would not be inconvenienced. He was thoughtful and considerate right to the end. I will publish details when I get them. Some day, a long time from now when my Mom passes, they have asked us to mix their ashes and spread them at their favourite spot in Algonquin Park. Pete and I will be so proud and honoured to do that.
Rest easy, Dad. We love you." - James Dean IV January 2015.