(905) 294-2030
Tribute Wall
Loading...
B
Brian posted a condolence
Tuesday, March 26, 2024
Truly one of the most inspiring people I have encountered in this life. Always kind and considerate, he presented a keen intellect and an approachable presence that left an impression on me from the time I met him at Concordia as a student and in the years afterwards into the present. To those who knew him better: my empathy and love your way. He was a grand human and I will carry him in my mind and heart.
V
Victoria University posted a condolence
Monday, March 25, 2024
On behalf of Victoria University, we send our deepest sympathies on your recent loss. Sincerely, the staff of Alumni Affairs & Advancement.
A
Andre Furlani posted a condolence
Saturday, March 23, 2024
John Miller was what few of us bereaved colleagues of his can boast to be: indispensable. To students, to staff, to fellow faculty: indispensable. When he took retirement it almost felt like dereliction of duty. What was he thinking? As the marvelous de facto coordinator of our undergraduate program, as a senior member able to call on decades of relevant experience to resolve difficulties and develop new approaches, as one of our most able teachers in both the undergraduate and graduate programs, as a mentor for many fortunate students, John was at the heart of the success of our program. How could the Department of English proceed in his absence?
We bitterly had to find out, for it was years until we could patch the gaps and adjust to the loss of his expertise, versatility, and his wisdom. What we will never replace, and now must mourn, is his distinctive combination of craft, versatility, understanding, patience, tact, consideration, and not least his contagious good humor – occasionally acerbic but never snide, a forgiving wit accompanied usually by a warm rolling laugh that could lift the gravest spirit. How we could use that laugh now. With his deep and gently modulating vibrato, unhurried gestures and convivial demeanor, John was a gift to the classroom: utterly knowledgeable across the entire canon of our discipline but not in the least pedantic, warm but not cloying, droll but not sarcastic, with high standards but fair expectations and instinctive appreciation for the specific remedial needs of students at every phase of their studies. As the Undergraduate Advisor, he was really our department’s ambassador to the students, and there will never be a better one at Concordia, for he welcomed them graciously to the university, shepherded them through the programs, advocated energetically for them, taught them the splendor of English literature, took the time to congratulate them at Convocation, and wrote recommendations for them to graduate programs. John had an accomplished modesty to which any professor would do well to aspire – the acquisition of great knowledge and the skill to inculcate it only increased his humility, which was the key to his success as a teacher, administrator and colleague.
What we very luckily still have from John is an imprinting example of dedication, collegiality, equanimity, abounding curiosity and above all joyful fellowship in the adventure of teaching and learning. John was not a teacher only to his grateful students, but to his colleagues, and especially to people like myself, upstarts he guided so gently and considerately that often you did not immediately realize that he was doing so. When we both gave presentations on pedagogy to teaching assistants, I took as many notes on his remarks as did the graduate students, and have kept the notes. John had already given me invaluable advice once when, rising to leave his richly cluttered office, I told him, “I’ve got to prepare my class.” “You can only prepare FOR your class,” he responded. It was an admonition not to overwork the lecture with material but to orchestrate gaps that allow the unpredictable to arise and stimulate original thinking not only in the student but in the instructor.
John was one of those professors who do not simply teach the subject but live it; for whom literature is not a university discipline merely but a liberation of spirits. That is why it gave him delight, and why the delight was infectious. To the brink of tears, sometimes. At the beginning of one fall semester we greeted each other in the department, and he had tears in his eyes. Bad news? Great poetry, rather: “I am beginning the course with Keats’s ode ‘To Autumn,’ and just reread it. Gets me every time. ‘Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness…’” he began to recite in his misty mellow voice. He had me in tears, too. Dear inimitable John, you have me in tears again.
I
Ian Lindsay posted a condolence
Saturday, March 23, 2024
My condolences to Jim, Charlotte, Christopher, Kristin, Felicity. The news of John’s death came as quite a shock: I was waiting for good weather to get him to Sumalicious, the best smoked meat sandwich west of the West Island.
John was one of my great Montréal companions: for a few months in 1980-81, I lived down the block on St. Marc. My Sunday mornings were given over to long hikes through the city. John often joined these rambles through the neighbourhoods, adding to his considerable knowledge of a city he loved. Because his students introduced him to new restaurants, John always knew the out-of-the-way places, like the Argentinian “Rio de la Plata” in a former barbershop which, lacking a liquor licence, offered good wine in water glasses,sold as”Coca Cola Special”.
It might be crass to look, but a visit to John’s page on RateMyProfessors is humbling for anyone who has taught anything. 4.8 out of 5 stars. 100% “would take again”. “Assigns lots of readings, expects you to do them.” “Do not graduate without taking a course with him.” “Yoda with a sense of humour.”
John loved good books, good music, good conversation, which he shared with the good friends—Harry Hill, Judith Herz, Jim Wilson, Rick and LiseAnne. Secretly, though, he was pleased recently when the reading group gave up on “The Ring and the Book”, relieved it was Judith—and not he—who cried, “Hold, enough!” No wonder he was proud to announce that Felicity, aged two and a bit, received a certificate for having charged 300 books out of the Whitby public library.
John was always a good host, a great friend. He kept up to date with a rich network and shared our adventures with the rest. He followed my family with interest, and let me know in turn what happens at Thistle Ha’.
John didn’t return my call last month. I supposed that, once again, he’d gone Bunburying.
J
John Glenney posted a condolence
Monday, March 18, 2024
I read about John's death in the notice in the Globe and Mail. I was a first -year student with John at Victoria College in Toronto in 1964. We met through living in residence ( he in North House and I in Nelles House) and through being in the same English classes. I was from Lindsay, Ontario, so we each knew from whence the other came. I was thankful for John's friendliness and keen academic interests. We also had in common an enthusiasm for the United Church. We often went to Sunday services (sometimes with other budding young theologians) in the more notable downtown Toronto churches.
I am afraid I lost touch with John after the first few years at university (different accommodation and courses) but I was not
surprised to read about his fine academic career and his kindly presence at Concordia.
I thank John for those first few years of companionship at university and I send my sincerest sympathy to his family at this time.
John Glenney (now living in Calgary)
J
Jean-Philippe Savard posted a condolence
Monday, March 18, 2024
I would like to express my deepest condolences to the family. Please know that John made a big difference in my life when I was an undergraduate at Concordia. I'm not even sure I would have completed my studies without his support. Nowadays I work as an English editor. I'm a good writer. I know for sure I wouldn't be who I am without John. I'm really happy to be an editor and a writer. Thank you John!
R
Richard Thompson posted a condolence
Tuesday, March 12, 2024
John Miller introduced himself to me in the summer of 1981, in the English Department office at Concordia’s Loyola Campus. He was one of many professors I worked for as secretary of the department, but it was as a friend that he influenced my life in innumerable ways. Though I never took a course with John, he taught me more about Victorian authors in animated conversations over good food and drink than I ever would have learned in a classroom. He also introduced me to so many things that have alternately delighted and solaced me in the 40-odd years since — not least his eclectic musical collection ranging from Bach to Ute Lemper and from Bernstein to the Pogues. As Donat Taddeo has observed, John was also an avid moviegoer. He could always be counted on for thoughtful comments on the most recent Coen Brothers offering or the relative merits of two adaptations of a Hardy novel. Most especially, however, John taught me what it was to be a true friend and an ever-gracious host. I hope I can ever be even a fraction as good a person as he was.
K
Kelly Rice posted a condolence
Tuesday, March 12, 2024
I was music director at Erskine and American United Church in Montreal in the late 80’s. John was such an enthusiastic supporter. He later commissioned music for the choir, and I remember the long, detailed, and thoughtful conversations we had about the entire process. We also shared an interest in the novels of Wilkie Collins. John, you are so missed.
D
Don Taddeo posted a condolence
Saturday, March 9, 2024
I would like to extend my sincerest condolences to John’s family. I first met John when he was teaching in the English Department at Concordia University and I was Dean of Humanities, that is, between 1980 and 1985. I heard nothing but very good things about him from his Department Chairmen during those years- he always struck me as being a substantive yet very humble and approachable professor. But I did have the opportunity to have engaging and interesting conversations with John as my wife and I would often run into him at the downtown multiplex we both frequented. We would exchange our appreciation, or lack thereof, of films we had seen and were always ready to recommend to each other which film was a “must see”! My wife and I returned to the multiplex about six months ago after the COVID and post COVID eras. I have often thought of John these last six months, hoping to run into him, and it has saddened me to learn today that he has passed. A fine human being, a generous professor, he will be missed by many. Don Taddeo, C.M., PH.D., Montréal
J
John Buttars posted a condolence
Saturday, March 9, 2024
John was a longtime friend of my younger brother, Ian Buttars dating back I am assuming to Pickering District High School. They also attended Victoria at U of T at the same time. When Ian was critically ill at the end of 2019 (died in Jan. 2020), John sent several emails, including the following: "Our conversation picked up as if there weren't such large gaps in our contact, and we could have chatted for hours. A lot has happened to the both of us since graduating from Victoria College, but the basic affinity remained. Our friendship is the longest-standing in my life, and it's wonderful to know that it's withstood all these intervening years." It was a shock to see John's obituary in The Globe and Mail today. I send to his family healing mercies in your sorrow and express my gratitude that John and Ian shared decades of friendship. John Buttars
D
Dave miller posted a condolence
Saturday, March 9, 2024
One of my clearest memories of John was when he had come home from u of t, standing in the threshold between the old kitchen and dining room and telling Jim and I about the latest literary fad at school, the hobbit, first time I had heard of it. In the following years he took Don and I for the best smoked meat in Montreal when we visited him after skiing in tremblant and showing me around Cambridge when he was studying there. He spoke eloquently at Marg’s memorable wedding at Olga’s gallery and at dad’s funeral. I’m glad I got to see him last summer for a get together at my place in Barrie and I remember how much he enjoyed one of don’s ciders. I will miss him and I treasure these memories.
166 Main Street North | Markham, Ontario L3P 1Y3 | Phone: (905) 294-2030 | Email: info@dixongarland.com
Connect With Us On Facebook