James Simpson Cunningham

Our dad, Jim Cunningham, passed away peacefully in his sleep on Friday, September 4th, 2020. It is really hard to know where to start when trying to sum up a person's life and everything they meant to you. Needless to say, our dad lived a long and very interesting life. Perhaps it is easiest to start with how our dad summed up his own life of 85 years. He recently participated in an on-line interview project, organized by one of Jenny's best friends. Her friend is a middle school teacher and developed a project for her students to interview seniors from Miramont Pointe just outside of Portland, Oregon, where our dad lived the last 5 years. The purpose of the project was to allow interactions between youth and seniors, even during this time of COVID, and for her students to learn about how other people have lived. Jim was interviewed via email, and he told the young man that interviewed him that his greatest achievements of his life were as follows: his 3 daughters, having served in the Marines, and his career. He also would frequently speak of his friends, old and new, of his 6 grandchildren whom he loved very much, and all of the traveling he was able to do in his life. The trip that is especially intriguing, and of which there are some pictures attached, was his European motorcycle tour when he was a young man (we think he was around 19 or 20). Him and his 3 friends were going to rent a car and drive around several European countries, but it turned out they were too young. He called his mom from Europe, and much to her dismay and his delight, he let her know they were, however, old enough to rent motorcycles. The pictures from the trip show 4 guys with no helmets, wearing cool riding goggles, and occasionally hanging out with some young women they met on their journey. This trip meant a lot to him and little did he know that he would return to Europe to live and travel later in life. All of our life, and it continues to this day, people who knew our dad through work or as a friend would come up and tell us things like, "Oh my gosh, your dad is the sweetest man" and "He is such a true friend." and "What a great boss he is, he is so kind and smart." We would look at each other and kind of laugh, because it was weird to hear about him from other people's perspectives. At home he was quiet, reserved, rarely got mad, and seemed a little overwhelmed by having 3 daughters. Between us three girls, and our mom Marcia whom he was married to for over 30 years, it was a very female household and he rarely got a word in. When he did talk, we knew he meant it, and between making us breakfast every Sunday (buttermilk pancakes in the shapes we requested, cornbread, or waffles) and telling bad made up jokes, he was such a 70's dad. In addition to Evanston, Illinois, our dad got to live in London, Dublin, and New York City for work, and was even in NYC during 9/11. It was hard reaching him by phone that day, but when we finally did he was super calm and more worried about us and his grandchildren and how what was going on in the world might affect us. Another unique thing about him is he would never say anything bad about anyone he knew, ever. Even if one of us would try to gossip or say something critical about someone, he would never join in but just look uncomfortable. The meanest thing we ever heard him say about anyone, and it was never to their face, was, "Nuts to you fella!" It wasn't until our current president came into office, and in the 4 years since, that we heard him be critical and say some choice words about another person. Regardless of anyone's politics, it is a true fact that it takes a lot for him to dislike someone, and even then it is only when he feels that person is harming or deceiving others. Speaking of politics, our dad was always interested in local politics and volunteered in Evanston, London, and San Francisco. Even at his last home, Miramont Pointe, he was head of the Dining Room Committee and took meticulous notes. In London after he retired, he volunteered at the local police precinct helping with office work, and in San Francisco he volunteered to help people navigate the bureaucracy and paperwork to get onto Medicare; not an easy task, even for a former banker. In that last volunteer job he met people from all walks of life and really enjoyed doing what he could to make things easier for them. Our dad leaves behind his brother Jerry and Jerry's wife Isabelle, plus his 4 nephews: David, John, Andy and Will. Also the three of us girls and and our families: Kathy and Kaveh in Evanston, Illinois with their grown-up children Laura and Christopher, Ann and Finn in England with their adult daughter Taryn and teenager Niamh, and Jenny in Portland, Oregon with her teenagers Ava and Sabine. To have 3 daughters and then 5 out of 6 of his grandchildren be girls was his fate, and one he seemed to relish (although yay for Christopher - we know having a grandson was very special for him). It turns out that our dad had several organizations he supported and donated to. The top two were an organization called Compassion and Choices that supports people at the end of their life, and Planned Parenthood. In lieu of flowers, especially because we are not going to have an in-person ceremony of remembrance until COVID-19 is under control, please feel free to use the link provided and make a donation in his honor to Planned Parenthood; you can also type in Compassion and Choices, his other favorite charity. There is also a place where you can see pictures we downloaded, make a comment, tell us a story, or download your own pictures. He has been cremated at his request and some of his ashes will be released at the Oregon Coast and the remaining ashes will eventually travel to Skokie, Illinois to be put to rest at Memorial Park Cemetery where some of his family lay. Thank you for joining us in this celebration of Jim's life - our dad, your brother, cousin, uncle, friend, ex-coworker, and neighbor. We know he would have enjoyed hearing peoples comments and stories, and although it would have made him tear up and feel a little bashful, he would have loved every minute of it. Love from us, Kathy, Ann, and Jenny