Jay Robert Greenan
November 3, 1946 – March 8, 2013
Memorial held on St Patrick’s Day March 17, 2013
Uncle Jay is survived by us, his family.
Eulogy:
A family had twin boys whose only resemblance to each other was their looks. If one felt it was too hot, the other thought it was too cold. If one said the TV was too loud, the other claimed the volume needed to be turned up. Opposite in every way, one was an eternal optimist, the other a doom & gloom pessimist.
Just to see what would happen, on the twins' birthday their father loaded the pessimist's room with every imaginable toy and game. The optimist's room he loaded with horse manure.
That night the father passed by the pessimist's room and found him sitting amid his new gifts crying bitterly.
"Why are you crying?" the father asked.
"Because my friends will be jealous, I'll have to read the all these instructions before I can do anything with this stuff, I'll constantly need batteries, and my toys will eventually get broken." answered the pessimist twin.
Passing the optimist twin's room, the father found him dancing for joy in the pile of manure. "What are you so happy about?" he asked.
To which his optimist twin replied, "There's got to be a pony in here somewhere!"
Jay Robert Greenan is my father Jim Greenan’s twin. Now neither of these guys was eternally an optimist nor a pessimist, but they certainly were very different and their lives took very different paths.
I am grateful to be able to speak to you today about a man I quite like. Jay Robert Greenan passed on from this life on Friday March 8, 2013. We are gathered here to remember him and celebrate his life. Jay is my uncle and my father's identical twin brother. You may be wondering my name. My sister that is closest in age to me is named Ellie. My name is Lenore. When Ellie and I were small Jay had a hard time telling us apart, and I believe he thought we were one person whom he addressed as Eleanor. He would send presents addressed to Eleanor, and I always got to keep them because I screamed the loudest.
I am the fifth of Jim and Pam's eight kids (Celia, Paige, Nate, Ellie, Val, Phil and Camille). I am so grateful that I get to speak about Uncle Jay because I have spent the last week listening to stories about him remembered by his friends, his business partners, and his family. The last conversation I had with Jay was very sweet and I remember him very fondly. To me he was a sensitive soul.
Jay was born November 3, 1946 to Bertha Vera Rude and Francis Joseph Greenan III, one in a surprise set of twins bounding into San Francisco, a city they would take by storm. What a time it was to be born and raised in San Francisco. They lived primarily with their mother Betty and spent much of their time with their maternal grandparents who were also based in San Francisco. From their home at 2135 30th Avenue in the Sunset District they launched what is probably best known as a reign of recklessness. I don't envy the teachers at Crespi and Stevenson grammar schools nor at their middle school P. Gianni Junior High -- these boys were both smart and clever. Despite being rebel rousers, they were both encouraged to be very serious about school by their beloved grandpa Philip Rude.
Their home in the sunset district was the site of many rascally events -- including a much memorialized story involving Jay locking Jim outside on the porch of their two storey home so that he could practice his archery. Jim made an excellent target.
Even as a boy Jay was the fearless ringleader -- just a bit tougher and rougher around the collar than was Jim. Jay wore white t-shirts and work pants. You can picture him hanging out down at Playland at the Beach as a young teen donning Elvis style hair. When I picture Jay around that time I think of Kenickie from Grease. It was common at Lincoln High to have arranged face-off fights where a couple of boys duked it out in the center of a ring of other boys cheering them on. Jim was a little bit in awe of him when Jay took his turn throwing punches in the middle of one of those fights. Jay was tough. He made first string in the local football league playing center, while Jim barely even made it as a substitute player. Pop Warner football may have been the genesis of Jim and Jay's long standing physical competitiveness which was one that would follow them throughout their lives. Even when they were grown married men Jim and Jay had a long standing tennis rivalry. Celia remembers one time when Jay came into town he took Celia out on a little date -- to pump her for information about how Jim's tennis game was. Jay would sneakily pay her when she'd tell him Jim's weak spots. Upon returning Celia to Jim, Jim would be up in arms accusing Jay of kidnapping her and using his own daughter against him. They were always hilarious comparing their bodies. When Jay would come to town Jim would go on a crash diet a week before, but Jay would still occasionally win the physical fitness competition. That really got Jim's goat.
Being an identical twin was a source of great amusement for Jay. He capitalized on it. They pulled the old switcheroo as teenagers at the drive in with unsuspecting girls. When Jay came to town people would approach him thinking he was Jim and Jay would just listen and nod as they chatted, gathering information and snickering to himself. Right before they would walk away, Jay would smirk and say, "By the way, I'm Jay." When Pam went on her first date with Jim at BYU she ran into Jay the very next day and he, of course, starred at her with a big smile. It was the last time Pam made that mistake.
The eight of us loved having Jay for an Uncle. He was a novelty. Imagine your dad having a guy around who looked just like him who would tell the non-edited versions of stories. How did we know of Jim's hippie style black light-lit parachute dropped ceilinged apartment in the 60's? Jay. The story of the double driver's licenses? Jay told us all about it. When I was only sixteen Jay told me how when they were 14 years old he and Jim had purchased a Pontiac. Apparently they told their poor mother that they were "Storing the car for a friend because he didn't have a garage" but would really take it out cruising in the Sunset until their mom came home from work at 5. Do you have any idea the mileage we got out of that story? Having Jay around was a treat. He spoke to us like adults. I remember spending long Saturdays in San Francisco with him as he showed me around. Most of my knowledge of San Francisco comes from memories Jay shared with me. He lived in San Francisco in the 60's and his memories engendered in us a real connection and fondness for San Francisco. Jay knew his family heritage and showed me the house where Vera and Philip lived, as well as the apartment above Polk street where his Aunt would watch who came and went out of the Gay bars. Jay never pulled any punches. He was kind of our bad uncle. You know your uncle is kind of a badass when he tells you stories about gay bars AND he drives a Ferrari.
Jay was educated at San Jose State. He earned degree in public relations around 1970 and I recently found a massive binder of clippings of Jay's published articles in various local papers. Public relations must have been the perfect major for Jay -- never was there a more gregarious people person. Jay could talk to anyone, and he did. He’d just walk around Jay’ing it up – charming people and making them feel interesting and important. When he graduated from San Jose he went to work for Alistar McAlister in the State Assembly office, which was just one of Jay's impressive accomplishments that made his family very proud. From Sacramento he moved to New York City where he bought an Advertising Business. With his ease of personality it's no surprise he was so successful in business, especially advertising. He was a natural salesman -- even when he was, as he called it, "selling crap". Jay's particular line of work was in specialty advertising. The trunk of his car was always filled with the little trinkets businesses give away to spread their company's name: there were key chains, squishy hand exercise balls, frisbees, Hologram glasses and anything else you could think to emblazon the name of a company. As children we loved when Jay came to town and let us rummage through his trunk grabbing all the little toys.
When Jay came to visit he not only brought toys, he also brought his latest girlfriend. Oh, the girlfriends. Jay was a woman magnet and could land the most beautiful YOUNG interesting women. He would bring his girlfriends to stay with my parents and then send us in to wake the poor woman up really early in the morning – they all hated that because they were usually on Eastern Time. Wherever he went Jay had two or three women to date when he arrived. I remember more than once he would have to steal away from one date to get to another, he was scandalous in his women juggling. His personality was winning and he could really turn on the charm. This caused many confusions for the Jim/Jay/Pam triumvirate. Pam recalls seeing Jim driving around town in his BMW convertible wearing his Giant’s hat . . . with another woman. Thankfully a second glance told her it was just Jay. Another time a kind high councilman from Jim’s Stake approached Jim and said, “I really must apologize to you.” Jim asked why and the guy said, “I’ve just had the lowest opinion of you. I’d seen you out on a date with young blonde woman and I just couldn’t wrap my mind around why you, who has this beautiful wife and family, would be stepping out and cheating on her. And then I realized you had a twin.” Jay was like Jim’s alternate reality – driving fast cars and living up the single life. Jim did finally have the last laugh when Jay brought him along to listen to some Irish music at some club with him and a date. Jay’s date was kind enough to bring a lady friend for Jim. Jim, appalled, whipped out pictures of his wife … his kids … and his Grandkids. Jay’s date turned to him and said, “You’re old enough to have grandchildren?” That was the end of Jim playing Jay’s wingman.
In New York City Jay lived the life of a swanky NY Business man. His business associates in Chicago told me that his nickname was "The Weasel" because he always had a nervous energy for doing projects. He was a mover and a shaker in all the most productive ways. After he retired at 44 Jay continued working with Big Brothers charity and spent hours reading books to children in underprivileged areas. He had a heart for philanthropy, particularly focused on encouraging the rising generation.
Jay was always in the coolest of places within the cities. From being in San Francisco in the 60's, Jay moved to the Soho District of New York in the 70's and then moved to Washington DC in the 80’s where he ran with the fanciest crowds. Paige did an internship at the Clinton White House while Jay was in DC. When he was not throwing parties for the Plebes he sponsored at Annapolis Naval Academy, he was attending local events. After hanging out with an array of eligible Naval men at Jay’s, Paige would help Jay sift through the stacks of invitations he had received. Jay was invited to parties at Consulates and art shows and opera openings and any other type of fancy event every single night of the week. He would arrange the invitations into days and then plan his party itinerary -- usually hitting several parties every night. Jay fit in at these events. He was a lover of fine arts of all sorts, passionate about classical music.
His love of classical music proved a great asset to Jay when he briefly moved to Salt Lake City and joined the April fan club. April was a talented opera singer socialite whom Jay idolized. Jay would follow her like a puppy to all of her singing invitations in a variety of wards and other events. They were married in the Salt Lake City temple and then moved to Washington where they created a home. While in DC April and Jay loved to entertain. They were getting ready for one such event when Jay decided they absolutely must have a rug on the floor of the great room. This resulted in an awkward drive across Annapolis with a gorgeous Persian rug draped over the car so that they could hold onto it from inside the car. They arrived home moments before the guests arrived, threw down the rug and turned to find the cat asleep in the punchbowl. It was at this time that Jay met the Haslers, Fritz and Mary. They fondly remember Jay wearing mismatched shoes on the day they met him. In order to get his outfits in order Jay asked April to label all his clothes with animals – lion shirts with lion pants, zebra with zebra, etc. Jay had a childlike notion of fun. He made adults play like children. He once brought home masks that made people transform into an animal or character and he and his friends played dress up all night, laughing uproariously. I know April has great memories of the time she and Jay spent together in DC. Jay and April eventually parted ways when April moved back to Salt Lake, but they remained in regular close contact throughout Jay’s life. Jay turned to April as a confidant and close friend, for decades they had a very special relationship of mutual encouragement and support.
Jay knew and collected art, including a Dali drawing and a huge Unicorn Tapestry he was quite proud of. He had a big fancy house in DC and he would invite us kids to come and stay for a week or so. When Paige came he took her all around the major DC sites and she fondly remembers taking a picture with the first cardboard cutout she had ever seen -- Paige, Jay and Ronald Reagan. When Val and I went out he planned an outing to an Orioles Baseball Game. Val was absolutely thrilled to go. Baseball, however, was not fun enough for Jay and he swept us out of there at the third inning declaring that baseball was about as interesting as "Watching paint dry." Poor ten year old Val. But Val rallied and while he was out one day she and I cleaned Jay's house top to bottom, removing all cat hair. When he returned to the cat hair-free house he was positively giddy -- the smallest service to us was a huge deal to him and he could just not get over how grateful he was.
Not that Jay begrudged Nikkita Greenan her cat hair. Surely not. Jay did not have children, but Jay had his beloved cat Nikkita. We actually referred to him as our cousin, that’s how important Nikkita was to Jay. You had to use particular doors so Nikkita couldn’t get out. Nikkita got mad when you slept in his room. He protected Nikkita, to the point of indecency. They even shared ice cream, Cherry Garcia being their favorite. One time when he was living on DuPont Circle Jim accidentally let Nikkita out the front door. Jay tore down the street in his bathrobe chasing after his beloved cat.
Second only to Nikkita in Jay’s affection was Sailing. Jay was the captain of two sailboats, his first being the Hibernia (30 ft 6 sleeper with cherry wood and green upholstery) that he used nearly every weekend the weather would permit. It was a great way for Jay to entertain his scores of friends – he would stock up his boat and take everybody out for a long leisurely sail in the Chesapeake Bay. He hustled around that boat and was a surprisingly capable sailor. Jay attempted to teach many of us to sail, but I think only April had the patience to learn. One time when they were sailing on a gorgeous Autumn afternoon Jay instructed April to steer the boat in one direction and she, obstinately, headed in the opposite. This resulted in wrapping a crab trap around the propeller and getting stuck out on the bay. Jay was my only frame of reference for sailing, and whenever I see a sailboat I invariably think of Jay.
There is a poem called Gone from my Sight by Henry Van Dyke that I think of when I think about what sort of experience Jay is having right now.
I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
Then someone at my side says: “There, she is gone!”
“Gone Where?”
Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says: “There, he is gone!” there are other eyes watching him coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout: “Here he comes!”
And that is dying.
-Henry Van Dyke
As many of you know, Jay was fascinated with his heritage, especially the Irish side of his family. He traveled to Ireland and even found the town Greenan, from which our name comes. He was very close with his mother Betty and grieved deeply when she died. He was proud of and would speak often of his family, ancestors long since passed. Ireland held a special place in Jay’s heart and I can only imagine how excited he must be to meet the long line of people on the other side of the veil.
Jay’s would often host St Patrick’s Day parties in which he would assign his guests religious and political factions. The guests were required to give informal histories of the groups in Ireland as they dined on Irish soda bread, sang Tura Lura Lura and Danny Boy. I can imagine Jay presiding, resplendent in his Shamrock Sweater from Blarney Castle.
There is a saying that people die twice: the first when the body ceases to function and second is that moment, sometime in the future, when your name is spoken for the last time.
While it is truly tragic that Jay has gone from this life into the next, I think the best way to remember somebody is to incorporate their name into our lives the same way we have done since we’ve known them. For example, my brother Nate is remembered every time we open presents and vocalize our excitement and delight in a childlike way. My children and their cousins are taught to “act like Nate” while opening presents in front of the giver. Jay, to me, was always in party mode. No matter the event, Jay was there chatting people up and moving and shaking – which is not always an easy thing to do but is a gesture of great class and respect for the other people at the event. I always respected this part of Jay’s personality and my children will be taught to “Jay it up” when we’re on our way to a social event where they need to be up and perform. When they’re charming and chatty they are living memorials to Jay’s personality. That, and when they dribble a little bit of Chinese food on their shirts. You totally Jay’d that shirt.
I would be remiss if I neglected to mention my personal memories of Jay. While we all have great memories of hanging with Uncle Jay, Jay and I had a special connection, which is how I ended up speaking to you today and not one of my siblings. I found myself spending a lot of time with Jay, visiting him in DC, and San Diego when he lived there for a short time, spending Christmas with him in Utah one year while everybody else was in Hawaii. At my wedding reception Jay filled in for my father who was oddly absent when it was time for the father-daughter dance. I remember him telling me at that time that he was grateful for that chance, I think it was the only time he officially danced the part of a father.
Recently when Ellie and Phil were cleaning out Jay’s things they came across a daily list that Jay had been keeping of things he was thankful for. On that list Jay wrote he was thankful for family dinners, prayer, fun, the LDS church, clothes to wear and there, on the bottom of the list was my name. And it was spelled Lenore, not Eleanor.
I am grateful for Jay’s influence and presence in my life – for being interesting and dynamic, fun and constant. I’m thankful that we have Saint Patrick’s Day when we will remember my Irish loving Uncle. I’m thankful for his example of class and charm, for making San Francisco come alive with stories, and I’m thankful to him for giving my dad hell. If I made a list of the things I am grateful for today Jay’s name would be near the top.
Eulogy given by Lenore Greenan Craven
Danny Boy sung by Aubrey
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