I just learned of my Aunt June's passing yesterday, with the help of my longtime dear friend, Gail Oliver Corrigan, who lived across the street from Mummy Bert and Papa (June's parents), and who also is saddened by the news. I briefly talked with my Aunt in late June and realized the suffering she was enduring; for that reason only I am relieved she is at peace. I, too, grew up in the  Mitchell household on Oak Ridge Road, with the same memories of Mummy Bert's cooking, the merry Christmas parties held there, going to the same elementary school as June, sleeping in her old room, and so many more common experiences that we shared. In the past few years after my mother's death (her sister, Janet) I would call June periodically and  reminisce about those days. I also shared the same loyalty and love for Papa, who would wake me up every Sunday an take me to the Statler Hotel for breakfast. I have the same wonderful memories of Mitchell's Bakery, where we would go after our breakfasts, and the last leg of those special outings, a run to Winchester, where he would pick up three Sunday papers, followed by the final thrill of him letting up on the gas to see  if we could coast all the way back to Oak Ridge Road. What a treat! Another thing June and I had in common was Colby Jr. College, where I graduated 11 years after her. I will always remember June's knack for a good story, her throaty laugh, her kindness and tact embedded in all the Mitchell women.  Another great characteristic of the these women was a dry and hilarious sense of humor, which I am told I also have. I am forever indebted to June for taking my mother under her wing, giving her a sense of security and dignity, while allowing both to spend quality and sisterly time together. I will miss June's yearly updates always tucked away in her Christmas cards and I will miss that last connection of my life with the remarkable Mitchell family.

Memories of Grandma June, part 1

It was 14 years ago that I was at Nickerson Funeral Home remembering my grandpa, Jack White, after he had passed away. And while everyone was offering their condolences as they left, one lady saw me crying. She came close to me and whispered “Grandparents are so very special. Don’t forget that.” That was true of my grandpa then and it is most certainly true of my grandma now.

Grandma June was part of what made Cape Cod so special to us. Every time we came up to visit, she always had something planned and was always prepared. Whether it be making a certain dessert that we liked (which is homemade chocolate fudge to put on our ice cream) or taking us to see Hyannis Sound when they made a stop in Chatham. But one thing that I think all of my siblings can agree on is that she helped introduce us to the art of theater. Every summer trip she would plan at least one play to see. Every play was different and every play gave us a little bit more culture than the year before. It is an extraordinary talent to be able to act in front of a live audience, a talent that Grandma June possessed herself. A talent that we are so grateful to have been able to experience for so many years.

She was a very well spoken, witty, intelligent woman. She was so intelligent that watching Jeopardy with her just wasn’t really fair because she knew all the answers. And so witty that some of her one-liners made me speechless. For example, she got a cat years after my Grandpa passed away and it was a male cat. She said that he sleeps in the bed with her and then said “I haven’t had a man in my bed in years.” Really caught me off guard with that one. And then one Sunday during football season I was calling to check up on her and see how she was doing… she cut our conversation short with “Well Lisa, I have to go. The Patriots are coming on soon.” Being a Patriots fan myself, I didn’t mind, and I thought ‘I have the best Grandma ever.’

Memories of Grandma June, part 2

And that still rings true today. Even though she is gone, our memories with her are not. Cape Cod will still be the place where we went to see Grandma and Grandpa. We will still go sit at the Canal and eat lunch like we did with her. We will still go and see plays like we did with her. We will still watch Jeopardy (and actually have a chance at answering the questions) like we did with her. And I think that is why Cape Cod is so special. Cape Cod will never be gone. Chatham will never be gone. And in a way, Grandma June will never be gone, too.

June was one of the most genuinely kind, gracious and interesting people I have met in my 64 years. I, too, love the Cape, and she let me stay in her wonderful second home across the lot from hers (for a VERY reasonable rate). When she first delivered homemade soup across the yard to me, I realized this isn't the typical landlady for my many short stays in Chatham!

Her genuine interest in my wife, our pets and our lives reminds me, even as I write these words, what a big heart, an optimistic outlook (even in the face of much loss) and a true blue belief in the Golden Rule can do for a person and all those she touches. She remains an inspiration to me.

I will always miss June - I'm sure her time on earth affects others the way I have been inspired.

RIP, June - I miss you!

Jeff Levin
Bradford, NH

Cameron and family,

I met June through the Junior Theatre. I recall she always made a magnificent queen. Both my children and myself participated in several plays with her through the years.
 
Some years passed and I met up with her in Senior Players (HJT). It was so nice to be reacquainted and doing what we loved.

I attended the virtual memorial service and thought it was lovely; the tributes given encompassed June so well. She was beautiful human being.

Heartfelt sympathy from the Pina family

Eulogy, part 1

My Mom lived by a strong moral code. She believed in honesty, in following through on commitments, and in the golden rule (do unto others as you would have them do unto you). I remember a story she told me from her days at Colby Junior College, when the Student Government asked every student to sign a pledge that they would not cheat and would report anyone who did. My Mom refused to sign; she explained that she would not cheat, but she would not report someone else who did. The Student Government pressed – everyone else had signed, she was the only one who hadn’t… but she didn’t budge. She told them she’d sign if they crossed out the second part. They refused… in the end, she was the only student who never signed.

My Mom was a smart professional. She was social secretary to Mrs. Cornelius Vanderbilt Whitney for over 25 years. Mrs. Whitney was had high expectations – my Mom navigated that challenging job with great skill and diplomacy! When Mrs. Whitney purchased a home in Majorca Spain, and my Mom had to ensure things ran smoothly, she learned Spanish. When Mrs. Whitney hosted formal dinners, my Mom knew who should sit where, and who wouldn’t tolerate sitting next to whom! When Mrs. Whitney hosted lavish themed galas every summer the night before the running of the Whitney Stakes at the Saratoga Race Course, with themes such as Breakfast at Tiffany's, The Wizard of Oz, and the Wild, Wild West, my Mom made many of the arrangements. In the years after my Mom retired, Mrs. Whitney acknowledged to those who took Mom’s place that she had done her job extraordinarily well!

Eulogy, part 2

My Mom was the consummate multi-tasker! I recall one afternoon in the early 1970s, soon after we moved to Chatham … my Mom was working in her small home office in the back of the house. The water meter was in a beanpot cellar below her desk, and the meter man needed to get a reading. As I came in to ask about lunch, my Mom was simultaneously holding the cellar door open with her foot, speaking on the phone in Spanish to Senõr Pinto Cuelho from Majorca, taking notes, and guiding me to the peanut butter. I remember thinking “Gee, she seems kinda busy”…

My Mom often came to the aid of others who were in need. As most of you know, she and her friend Mary Chesnut delivered Meals-on-Wheels for over 25 years. My Mom donated to numerous charities, and she helped without hesitation if someone close to her needed financial help. But more than that, she gave her time, her practical wisdom, and even a place to live if someone needed it. She put others before herself… when you spoke with her, she focused the conversation on you – and she remembered your troubles and listened with compassion and empathy. I think this is part of the reason she had such wonderful, caring friends.

My Mom was passionate about community theater – it introduced her to talented, artistic people, many of whom became life-long friends. She found it invigorating to join forces with a cast and crew to turn words on a page into a live production – she liked being on stage, but she embraced any role that needed doing, including choosing which plays to perform, directing, stage-managing, setting props, prompting, putting out newsletters or organizing monthly meetings, and working in the box office. And her support of community theater included being in the audience… when my family came to visit her, my Mom would always ask if we wanted to attend a show!

Eulogy, part 3

And then there’s creative writing… I found a poem in my Mom’s Erskine School yearbook that she had written when she was 21 years old; I’d like to share it with you:

The boy who walks with head hung down 
To look for a silver penny 
Has a very slender chance 
Of ever finding any. 
The boy who walks with head held high, 
Who will not look around, 
Has no time for foolish things 
Which might be on the ground. 
But oh, the joy of the searching boy 
If he finds the silver penny!
The other, though, will never know 
The thrill of finding any. 

My Mom returned to writing after a long hiatus, encouraged especially by the wonderful folks in her writers’ group. She told me repeatedly how accomplished, smart, and talented these authors are… and how much they inspired her. I can see a lot of her in what she’s written – words from her world like “slacks” and “pocketbook” popped up in some stories, but she also wrote about drug addicts and criminals, which I choose to believe were not part of her world!


Eulogy, part 4

My Mom also played bridge after she retired. I have no idea if she was a good bridge player or not – I think the game interested her because it combined challenging your mind with friendly, face-to-face socializing. My Mom also enjoyed charades, and she was especially good at word games like Boggle and Scrabble (although she always told me her cousin Phyllis was “unbeatable” at Scrabble). She was sharp, and interested in the world, and I feel lucky that we were able to have meaningful back-and-forth conversations during our nightly phone calls throughout her illness and up until her last days.

Most importantly, my Mom cherished her family. She was able to effortlessly blend groups together as her family changed over the years – her father lived with us in Chatham in his later years, her nieces and their husbands joined her for holidays and visits, her sisters and her cousin moved to the Cape, and the McNeill clan gathered in Massachusetts for reunions. When she married Jack White, her family grew to include his son Brad and daughter Jennifer and their wonderful families. She was “Grandma June” to seven grandkids, and “Great-Grandma June” to six great-grandkids. With June at the center, we’ve become a much bigger family, and I know this has enriched all of our lives in many ways. I also know much this meant to my Mom, and by extension, how much it means to me.

Eulogy, part 5

I’ve thought about how I would describe my Mom to someone who hadn’t known her. I’d tell them she was a determined person – very determined! In many areas, she knew what she wanted and was unapologetic about pursuing her goals. I’d tell them she was elegant and dignified – not like someone out of Downton Abby, but naturally elegant and dignified while still being warm and caring. I’d tell them she was smart and funny. I’d tell them she was talented but never boastful or showy. I’d tell them she was the consummate hostess – from family gatherings to parties that she and Jack hosted on New Year’s Day, she focused on making sure people enjoyed themselves. But most important, I’d tell them she was “true blue” to her friends, and loving and caring to her family.

Finally, I want to express my thanks to the angels who supported her, especially during her illness. My Mom wanted to remain in her home as her cancer progressed, and it’s only because of the generosity and kindness of many dear friends and family members that she was able to do so. And to the nurses and home health aides and hospice team that helped her during her final days … thank you for what you did. And thanks to all of you for your love and support and for sharing in this celebration of my Mom’s life.

Memories of June, part 1

June was Scottish, through and through. Her father, Bill Mitchell, came with his parents and sister Alice from Aberdeen on the east coast of Scotland, and started Mitchell’s Bakery in Somerville. Bill married Bert (short for Bertha) McNeill, a third generation descendant of McNeills from the island of Gigha on the west coast of Scotland. Bert’s grandfather, George Edwin McNeill, was well known as a labor leader, one of the founders of the American Federation of Labor. He and his son, Bert’s father, George Leonard McNeill, started the Mass Accident and Health Insurance Company in 1883, the first in the U.S. to provide health care insurance direct to workers. Bert’s brothers grew up to be officers in the family company. Shortly after Bert married Bill Mitchell, her younger brother, called Duke, my father, married Bill’s younger sister, Alice. So June, her two older sisters, Priscilla and Janet, and my brother and sister, Robert and Phyllis, were very close, growing up as double cousins. I was called Baby Janet, five years younger than June.

June and her sisters grew up in a white colonial house close to the Mystic Lakes in West Medford. The Mitchell Bakery’s door-to-door delivery trucks fanned out around Boston carrying noteworthy cottage bread along with pies and donuts, with a Saturday special on brown bread and baked beans. June’s father, Bill, was a man of few words, a big heart, and fierce loyalty to his wife and three daughters. A super hard worker, he went to bed at 8 pm so he could fire up the ovens at the bakery by 4 am. On Saturday night, he’d show up with a huge cake box filled with cash from the weekly payments his drivers had collected on their routes.

Memories, part 2

June’s mother Bert was an extrovert who welcomed everyone of every age who came into the house. She was a great cook who passed on recipes to all of us – such as her scalloped potatoes, meatloaf, snow pudding, and coffee soufflé. Like June, she loved games, especially bridge. If we played late, she’d suggest that we spend the night. What a treat to wake up and enjoy her big breakfast. Like June, she listened well, without judgment, and remembered every detail of what was said. She and her husband cultivated their own strengths in their three daughters: strong personalities, love of drama, self-determination, and generosity.

June was closer to her father than were her sisters. My older sister remembers June bouncing with excitement as she talked about her upcoming trip to New York City with her father and her best friend Josephine, who lived across the street. Bill would take them for a stay at the Plaza Hotel on Fifth Avenue that included a ride with a horse and carriage around Central Park – well worth the excitement!

What I remember best was being the young onlooker at parties where June and first her teenage and later her adult friends would dance and play games. Do you remember the Limbo? Where you dance your way under a broomstick? Have you tried doing a Shimmy while slipping your body through a metal clothes hanger? Exciting!

I remember well June and Doug’s wedding at the Winchester Country Club – a dream wedding. And a few years later, June and Doug attended my wedding, in 1953. For several years after that, we both were moving around and out of touch. What a joy it was, however, when my daughter was two years old, to drive her from where we were living in Massachusetts to spend a couple of days at Old Westbury on Long Island where June and Doug were living on a horse farm with their 4-year-old, Cameron. I made the trip a couple of times. Once, June and I baked dozens of varied cookies for Christmas gift baskets while the kids played.

Memories, part 3

Then my family moved to Minnesota and the only exchange was through Christmas cards until June and Doug and Cam moved to Cape Cod in 1970. We came in 1971 for a couple of months, shortly after Bert had died and Bill had moved in with them on Cape Cod. He took my kids to get fried clams near Mitchell’s Bridge. And then there were sporadic brief visits to stay with June – after Uncle Bill’s memorial service, then in 1978, ’85, ’91 – including a grief-filled visit when June’s sister, Janet, died in 1996. 

When I retired in 2000, I could accept June’s invitation to drive from Minnesota with my partner, Tom Lacy, pick up Phyllis along the way in Michigan, and stay next door for a month each September in the house that she’d rent out during the summer. We started the annual habit of holding a family reunion with our cousins, Roger and Joan McNeill. In 2005, June and I went for a 10-day cruise along the Dalmatian Coast, and in 2006, June came to where Phyllis and I were doing a home exchange near Edinburgh. The three of us enjoyed the thrill of visiting the McNeill Island of Gigha. 

Every year, Tom and I would talk about moving to Cape Cod, until the mission was accomplished in 2010, when June’s sister, Priscilla, then living in Orleans, needed some extra care and support and gave us a good excuse for the permanent move. Priscilla lived in her beautiful home with relatively good quality of life until 2012. And we loved visiting back and forth with June, reading her stories, and seeing her in plays. (What’s your favorite play that you saw June in? – Mine are Ghosts by Henry Ibsen and Along the River Road by Candace Perry). 

Tom and June and I thoroughly bonded during these last couple of years since the lung cancer was diagnosed, and she bonded with Kit, our large black and white cat who was lucky enough to spend a two-year sabbatical with her. He’s now back with us – still watching for access to every spare morsel.


Memories, part 4

June remained her true self through her last breath. Even a week before she passed on, she would ask about some aspect of our daily schedule that we’d mentioned in a prior conversation. June and Tom and I expressed our love for each other each day, and I see no reason now to stop saying “I love you, June.”


Dear Cameron and family, My deepest condolences.  I have such loving memories of June. She and Doug, and later Jack, were important important parts of our lives.  We had such good times acting in plays together, having dinners, celebrating holidays, discussing books, watching our families grow up. Our lives were much enriched because of her. 

June has been a close friend of mine for sixty years, and an important loved one to my family. She was a compassionate woman, and in all the years that I knew her, I never heard her say an unkind word about anyone. 
She is missed. 

I first met June in 1977, when introduced by her niece, Carol, who became my wife.  Over the next four decades we enjoyed visiting her in Chatham, and having her visit us in Maine and Florida. I will always remember the Christmases we spent with June. One of her traditions was a Christmas stocking for everyone,  and we all had to get two gifts for each person. One year it was hilarious when we all received sunglasses and had a group picture taken. We were always warmly welcomed,  and well taken care of. We shared many good times, and many great stories. June was a wonderful cook, a wonderful  hostess, and a dear friend. 

June and I met because we both needed a partner in bridge. She was a wonderful partner and very adapted to helping my rusty skills.  Always a wonderful hostess and kind and considerate of others.  I have driven by her house frequently and wondered how she was doing.

We had something in common other than bridge.  We had both attended Colby Junior College. She when it was named that and I when it was named Colby Sawyer Junior College. We had an entirely different experience, it was a connection still.

Like many of you, we've known June in many places; bridge, canasta, theater. But my association was unique. Delivering weekend “Meals On Wheels” from the Council on Aging every Friday for over 25 years! We drove most every street, road or backroad in our assigned section of town monitoring our elders as some even moved from their own homes to their children's at the end of their lives.

I’ve missed June these last few years when she could no longer be my partner, but was able to see her on her final day as I took a card to her house to say goodbye.

As a wonderful friend I was so sorry to hear of Junes passing. We had a great time playing bridge together and she was a superb player. You never had to ask June twice if she was up to a game. Loved hearing how she would take an ad from the Classified Section of the newspaper and do a story on it. A very creative gal. From all her stories she certainly had wonderful life.

While I didn’t get to know my grandmother earlier in her life, I did get to see how she lived life to the fullest as she got older. Her delivering Meals-on-Wheels until about 90 was exemplary of the kind of person she was - thoughtful, loving, and inspirational in her energy to act in the service of others.

She did so many things that defied her age - bridge club, writing club, all her work in theater and particularly the Chatham Drama Guild. She was a world traveler, too. I’ve looked up to her seemingly unstoppable energy in the hope that I’ll have that too. 

When I was in college, I wrote a paper for a geography class about Cape Cod. When she heard that I was doing so, to assist she sent me books on the Cape and had a picture that I liked reproduced for me and mailed to me, which I treasure. I treasure not the original but the reproduction she sent me, because that gesture was so illustrative of who she was and the way she loved her family. She did more than heed the call, which shows just how special she was.

I have countless more memories of her, tied to summers on the Cape, holidays, and big milestones. She had a hearty laugh and a sharp wit, and Christmases without that laugh will be quite different. 

I know how much she valued writing, was an avid reader, and loved literature. She was a woman of words, for sure. But what I remember most distinctly were her actions and how she treated others, which were strong-willed, compassionate, and loving.


I had the great honor of sharing the stage several times with this classic lady, June. But our last show "Made in Heaven", a one act by Candace Perry, at Wellfleet, was particularly poignant. She played a southern D.O.C. widow entering heaven where she'd receive her heart shaped box with the name of her eternal love.Though she reacted with credible indignancy upon discovering he was her Black gardener, June was able to demonstrate her true love with just her smile. Simplicity in acting was just one of her gifts which she shared. We all are better as a result of knowing her.

Cameron and family - I'm so sorry to hear of the loss of your dear mother. She certainly led a very interesting life. I called her several years ago to tell her how exciting it was for me to see her mentioned in a biography of the newswoman Jessica Savitch, who was preparing to interview Mrs. Whitney. Your mom was very generous at Christmas, and I enjoyed wearing the shirts she chose for me. I have memories of the Corvairs that she and your dad drove. I'm very sorry that we lost touch in recent years, but Mary Ann kept me up-to-date on her correspondence with June, until her own death, on July 24 of this year, in Henniker.  Your parents were very special people in my life and I will continue to remember them fondly. Please accept my sincere condolences on your loss.

June was my neighbor across the street for 44 years. As a young couple we enjoyed her company with Doug and later, Jack. We enjoyed working in theatre together; her beloved Chatham Drama Guild and Cape Cod Theatre Company / Harwich Jr. Theatre. We had so much fun at her New Year's Day Open House over the years. June’s regal demeanor, incisive wit, dry humor, intelligence and kindness will always be remembered. She was a great actress and I looked up to her. May her memory forever bless. I feel deep gratitude for her friendship. Condolences to Cameron,  his family, and her dear friends.

OBITUARY

June Mitchell Douglas-White

19 June, 1926 – 17 July, 2020

Nickerson Funeral Home

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