Wife, mother, grandmother, teacher, knitter, rebel. Born Jan. 7, 1941, in Oxford, England; died May 12, 2012, in Toronto of chronic lymphocytic leukemia, aged 71.
Born in Oxford, England, during the Second World War, one of five children in a working-class household, Jan Horn enjoyed a rich childhood in humble circumstances.
Her dad, Lenny, was a factory worker whose talent and resourcefulness also meant he could paint, sew, embroider, decorate, garden and fix almost anything – skills he passed on to Jan as she shadowed him in the family garden and work shed.
Her finesse with knitting needles came from her mother, Irene, who knitted nearly all of the children's mittens, cardigans and anything else that could be fashioned with wool.
During her nursing training at Barnardo's School, Jan lived what she called a Jekyll-and-Hyde lifestyle: She wore a crisp white uniform by day, shaggy hair and darkly painted nails by night. Hitchhiking, wild parties and Ban the Bomb rallies were the order of the day. Lenny was not impressed.
True to her rebellious side, Jan struck out on a life-changing adventure after graduation, boarding the Invernia in 1962 for the week-long voyage to Canada. She later admitted to having had a naïve notion that most of Canada resembled Algonquin Park, and she was eager to take in the country's breathtaking beauty.
But far from the abundant trees and lakes of the North, Toronto was where she took her first job, as a live-in nanny, later becoming a beloved pre-school teacher for generations of children in Leaside.
It was in Toronto that she met fellow Brit Philip Evans and made her home, surrounded by a raucous group of expats.
Jan's love of adventure took her around the world with Phil and their two sons, Mike and Gareth, and on many sailing trips with the boisterous Brits (with one saucy South African thrown in for fun).
On her 60th birthday, she pushed the envelope further, skydiving from 10,500 feet at Whistler, B.C., with both boys by her side.
Losing Gareth to cancer in his 36th year, shortly after her own diagnosis, was Jan's biggest heartbreak. The two shared astounding artistic talents, the proof of which can be found on every wall in the Evans household, and in two children's books they wrote and illustrated together.
True to form, Jan explored all possible avenues to fight her disease. One particularly unconventional treatment called for a weight-loss drug chased with a shot of vodka – a trial that sent her into peals of laughter each time she recounted it to a friend.
Jan's most recent joy was time spent with her granddaughters, Quinn and Sloane, who lived a few houses away. They enjoyed Friday-night sleepovers and spent summers with her at a cottage near Algonquin Park – living out the Canadian dream that Jan long ago envisioned when she sailed away on her first adventure.
Althea Blackburn-Evans is Jan's daughter-in-law.