Born October 6, 1952, died February 24, 2021, age 68
Born to Berdina Johnson and John Patey, Paul cut his teeth at the bottom of Coates’ Hill in St. Anthony, Newfoundland. Paul was a free-range child raised in a family of six (Mark Johnson, Bruce Patey, Catherine Green, John and Wade Patey) with a twenty-year gap between the oldest and the youngest. Paul, in the middle of the pack, learned early how to fight for the first to the last slice of homemade bread. Never far from one of his siblings, their combined energy was infectious and a delight to behold.
After marrying Janet Patey of Quirpon, he would like to say that his good looks and early Volkswagen van were undeniably irresistible. Janet, ‘my bestest friend’, quickly learned that the key to his heart was through his belly, and after every meal he would say he married the best cook and sandwich maker in the world. He embraced her family and for years he religiously migrated to ‘Lancie Bauld’ for Sunday dinners and to capture the prime berth for a post-meal nap on the couch.
During an early period of work with Wabush Mines in Labrador he had his first child Christopher. Throughout his life he never missed an opportunity to carry him in a backpack, haul in a boat to Labrador or drag anywhere on a skidoo. A year later they returned to St. Anthony to work with Newfoundland and Labrador Hydro. Shortly after, he welcomed his daughter Carole Ann. Raising a daughter he refined his soft side while ensuring all his wit and charm carried on. He expected them both Chris and Carole Ann to seek adventure and to always strive to be the best that you can be.
He truly exemplified living each day to the fullest. In his company, you have definitely been told “to have another”, “sure there lots of time”, or “come on, you can stay for another”. He would never turn down a beverage, and his interest was always in you and your family. While constantly ready with his own story, he always wanted to hear yours. Guaranteeing that you would hear at least one John Prine tune, he reminded you that “if you are gonna howl with the puppies at night you got to get up and run with the dogs in the morning”. The Pistolet Bay Cabin crew will be sure to sing ‘You Got Gold’ out of tune to ensure the party goes on.
With a constant thirst for adventure, he was never content on a beaten skidoo path and was always the first in line to beat the next. No one who had ever been in his presence questioned his ability to do this. Following his previous trails, you would end at the remnants of a once-hidden beautiful dry spruce, a sunken firepit or a heated camp deep in the woods. His travels led to every continent with his essential travel companions. Beyond the high end, he was most content sitting on a fish box or using a rock for a pillow. His true satisfaction was in simply getting out there.
He had one super power – kids truly melted in his presence. His ability to connect to any child was legendary. His larger-than-life persona seemed to charm any kid in his wake, and they never left without a smile on their face. As a ‘Poppy’ of silly proportions, his five grandchildren: Bella, Paul, Daniel, Jane and Liam will be sure to carry his sense of fun and joy of life throughout their lives.
Not knowing what they truly signed up for, Tim Maloney, husband to Carole Ann, and Daneile O’Dea, wife to Chris, were also embraced as if they were his own. A character in all sense of the word, they experienced his foolish ways and quirky vocabulary or ‘poppyisms’ – “sufficiently sorrensified”, “Do you know karate?”, “Anyone want to play dominos?”. They enjoyed his eating exhibitions – whole potatoes, finishing kids’ plates, eating twenty lobsters in one sitting, and never refusing seconds. Up until his last great meal of seal ribs, he had an animal appetite and true love for food.
Loving a challenge, he was a man who never let a stump or junk of wood beat him, and he was sure to encourage the next generation to always step up. Whether he was taking on boats, motors, laundry machines, decks, TVs, circuit boards, or tractors, they never beat him. His brute force was innate – the largest logs, heaviest stove pipes, and deepest skidoos never stood a chance. Later in life, and in especially difficult battles, he was sure to remind you that ‘It don’t do no good to get angry’, however, his emotions were never limited.
A dreamer, he never wanted to stop learning and returned to school in his fifties with a bunch of youngsters. For ten years after his retirement, he choppered through the far North as an electrician to maintain remote generators located above the Arctic Circle. He never searched for accolades or payment but worked for the love of a task and for the joy of a job well done.
A builder, his association with sheds, boats, wharves, and cellars all line up like a tiny town – the Ban Jam, Oar House, Cat Claw, Camp Ugly, Castor and Pollux I & II, and Sheds One through Seven were all his wooden refuges. His collection of sheds, all in a ‘tidy’ mess, and none were too big to be transplanted. His father’s shed was transplanted to his cabin backyard and eventually converted into a bunkhouse for his grandkids or for any family in need of an adventure. His collection, however, was the greatest when it came to friends, as they were well beyond his vast collection of screwdrivers.
Paul was the gentlest giant, as his hard-rusty exterior coating held the warmest, kindest heart. Leaving the largest void, his family remain to celebrate their connection to their father, best friend, poppy and husband. His lessons constantly taught us to always finish the job, never stop dreaming, always help someone in need and remember where you came from.
A celebration will be held at a later date that he would love for you to join. We will reach out, and he will expect you to stay late and have another.
In lieu of flowers, a donation can be made to one of his community passions: Aurora Nordic Ski Club through e-transfer to auroranordicskiclub@gmail.com or cheque to the mailing address Aurora Nordic Ski Club, P.O. Box 573, St. Anthony NL, AOK 4SO