HENNING ROSS - JENSEN
1924 - 2003
Andreas and Frederikke Jensen had two daughters, Lily and Grethe, when their son Henning was born, on 22 May, 1924. The family lived in Norresundby, where Andreas was a customs officer.
Henning was a normal, healthy boy, who early on showed signs of the logical mind he later developed as an adult; when his hand got jabbed by his mother's cactus (not that his hand should have been anywhere near the cactus), he simply got some scissors and cut off all the needles. That, he figured, would avoid the problem in the future.
Some of Henning's fondest memories were of childhood summers spent on his uncle's farm, where he and his cousin Peder developed what would become a life-long friendship.
As a youth, Henning was active in the Boy Scouts. Around this time he met Eli, who just happened to be active in the Girl Scouts.
His formal education was cut short by World War II, in which he was later to take part as a member of the Danish Underground. His role in the Underground was active, often dangerous, and relationships and experiences of this time of his life were formative and long‑lasting.
In 1947, on August 2, Henning married Eli. At this point he became Henning Ross‑Jensen, the Ross coming from Eli's mother's family. The newly‑weds set up housekeeping in an apartment in Silkeborg. After a backpacking holiday through Germany to Switzerland, the young couple, discouraged by state of things in Europe, decided to emigrate to Canada. So, in 1949 the momentous move was made, to Montreal where three of Eli's uncles had set up shop some years before.
Henning and Eli, apart from family contacts, lost no time in hooking up with the Danish Church in Montreal, St. Ansgar's.
In the early years, Henning supported his wife by being a house painter. Relaxation for the young couple often took the form of kayaking on Lake St. Louis. Then came 1950, and with it their son John. Hanne followed in 1952.
By 1957 enough money had been saved for a down‑payment on land and the building of their very own house. The house soon became a home, and they never moved again. In the basement, a room was made into an office, where Henning diligently spent hours on a home‑study course which would lead to his becoming an insurance agent.
Between work, family, and church, Henning kept busy. That didn't prevent the house in Dorval from becoming a popular drop‑in place for other immigrants, family, clergy; no one who needed a cup of coffee or a bed was turned away.
As John and Hanne grew and finally moved . away, Eli and Henning grew even closer to each other, and to St. Ansgar's. Then, when the time came, they embraced their grandchildren, keenly interested in all four of them. Driving to Ottawa for Hallowe'en or a ballet recital, attending student violin concerts, were all pleasant parts of being Farfar and Farmor, and Mormor and Morfar.
1997 was the year of Henning's and Eli's 50" Wedding Anniversary. It was also the year of Eli's cancer surgery. Two years later she took her leave of his life, leaving Henning with an emptiness that nothing could fill. May he now have that peace and comfort which he missed so sorely for the last couple of years.
Good‑bye, friend, father, grandfather, and great-grandfather. Thanks for all that you did, all that you gave, and all that you were.
Tak for alt.