Fr. John Jennings   (click here to see and add your comments to a lot of pictures sent to me by Fr. John's niece Mary O'Brien and who also wrote this nice bio of Fr. John)

Born John Thomas Jennings,  January 24th  1914 in Cully, Co. Sligo

Died May 19th 2007 in Liverpool. 

Although he spent most of his working years in England Fr. John remained firmly attached to his own Jennings family and travelled across the Irish Sea about twice yearly to visit. Nearly every year he had a new car, one he would buy for next to nothing and fix up so that it was fit enough to travel by ferry.   Maire Frewen’s house was usually his base from which he could set off to visit the other family members.  It was easy to have him as a visitor as no matter which house he visited he generally made himself useful by either cutting the grass or fixing something that was broken, or playing a game of scrabble or cards.  He could be very funny, often telling jokes with his eyes sparkling up as the punch line arrived but also he could be unintentionally funny.  On one occasion in our first rented apartment (which included standard cheap furniture) he was checking out an armchair that was not sitting properly on the ground and commented on the poor workmanship to my father who was also visiting.  Things like dowels or the lack of them were mentioned and he illustrated how rickety it really was by giving the leg a firm pull after which it was truly buggered!  My husband’s eye opened wide as he could hardly believe the pair of them.  However more often they both managed to fix things and we were grateful for their many skills around the house.  It must have been important for him to touch base with people who knew and understood him at home as although he worked practically all of his years in England and felt close to his various parishioners he did not seem to change his own character or adopt English mannerisms.  He needed to come home to recharge his batteries from time to time.  Many of the parishes where he worked were tough enough areas and the priest’s house was often subjected to burglary and vandalism.  In one house he described pushing a piece of furniture across his bedroom door for security during the day and was pleased that you could not even see there was a door behind it!   

When he visited my Dad in Galway the two of them tried out various tunes on recorders and drove around Connamara or visited Sligo or sites like the Ceide Fields (see photos).  He officiated at many of the family weddings over the years including our own that took place just two days after we had finished our final year college exams.  It was before wedding rehearsals had been invented so we just got on with it on the day. He gave us a leaflet designed for the couple and read from his own one for the officiating priest but the two leaflets were not a matching pair and each time he asked a question we would search for something in our one that came close enough.  It was slightly hysterical and the best man grinning like a hyena did not help! Anyway I think we are married and after 33 years he seems to have done a good job. 

Fr. John had a mild nature but was capable of making a stand when something bothered him.  In one of his assignments he was up against a housekeeper who seemed to regard his presence as an annoyance to her cosy relationship with the parish priest.  She managed to make him feel unwelcome in all the little mean ways it can be done and then, without explanation, he stopped eating the brown bread she made and in which she presumably took pride. This act of passive resistance was his only way of saying “I don’t like what you are doing and there is very little I can do about it but I won’t eat your bread”.  I don’t know did she lighten up or begin to understand the obscure hint but more likely he moved to his next assignment.  

In later years each retirement seemed to lead to another job until he finally became chaplain to a group of nuns running a retirement/nursing home facility.  He experienced a degree of luxury at last and very much enjoyed his own apartment there.  At the end when he suffered a stroke he was looked after very well by the sisters and he was buried there at Ince Blundell Hall in May 2007. 

When he was 89 he arrived in Carrick on Shannon to attend the party to celebrate Sr. Columba’s 90th birthday.  He came by ferry to Dublin and travelled onwards to the west.  The nuns in Liverpool were not anxious for him to take his car on the ferry for the trip but he had set off anyway in his latest model to make the journey.  Before he reached the ferry the car broke down on the motorway and he pulled into the emergency lane.  In fact he later realised he was on the wrong road but that was academic as the car was going nowhere anyway.  Not too long later a young man pulled over and asked could he assist.  I don’t think Fr. John had anything useful like a mobile phone but then again when you have a hotline to God you would probably just pray for assistance.  He explained the purpose of his planned visit to Ireland and the importance of getting to the ferry on time.  The young man offered to take him to his house and give him his second car to take with him on the ferry and keep for the duration of his stay in Ireland.  Fr. John related the story at the birthday dinner and his reply to the young man was “but that would be no good at all, I would be too late for the ferry”, which sounded unintentionally funny in the circumstances. People do not normally offer their cars to strangers for a week or two and it sounded as if he was taking that part for granted!  Then the decision was made that they would tow the car to the next garage (and have it repaired so it would be ready on his return) and the young man and his girlfriend then drove Fr. John to the ferry where he was given £50 by the man and a doughnut by his girlfriend to keep him going.  God moves in mysterious ways! 

Another night he got lost while driving my daughter and myself back to our hotel in Liverpool after one of his retirement parties.  It was not one of his familiar routes and after a time we seemed to have run out of road and had ended up in an eerily  quiet dead end down by the docklands.  There were no seat belts in the back and I slithered on the plastic seating as he turned about to try again for the right road.  “I always wondered where that road went” he said and paddled on fearlessly into the night!  

He was always very generous and gave away what money he had personally either to the Marist order or to anyone who might need some financial assistance.  On one occasion he approached me quietly as he thought I might be short and produced an envelope with £1,000 sterling that he said “might come in handy”.  I didn’t need or take it but I was touched by the idea of him setting it aside from the small contributions or gifts he received from time to time to help out in a practical way. 

By visiting the various family households he kept a link between them as Sr. Columba also did with her letter writing in the days before instant communication by e mail and texts. His visits and those of Sr. Kathleen along with various celebrations of all four of the family in religious life provided opportunities for the clan to congregate and celebrate as a unit. 

Fr. John was a practical man with a great sense of humour and a generous spirit who lived a full and rich life in the service of  others.  May he rest in peace.

 

Mary Jennings-O’Brien, December 2008

 

Pictures below: Ince Blundell near Liverpool: where Uncle Fr. John Jennings died and was buried....a beautiful place.  Thanks to Andrew and Helen Jennings for taking this pictures the day of his funeral on May 30, 2006.

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Just the boys (from left to right): Laurence, James Joseph, John Thomas (Fr. John), Martin, Padraic, and the youngest Cathal.