In Memory of Glenn Magee

Glenn Magee lived with a rare kind of lightness—the type that turned strangers into friends, errands into adventures, and ordinary days into stories worth retelling. 

Born to Bert and Dot Magee, Glenn grew up in Fance and across Canada—from the crisp winters of Cold Lake to the quiet charm of North Bay, before finally planting roots in Ottawa. He carried stories like souvenirs: some polished for retelling, others delightfully unverified.

At 14, Glenn lost his mother and stepped up to care for his younger siblings, Vicki, Trish, and Bob without hesitation. That quiet strength defined him—a man who’d joke about “winging it” but always showed up when it mattered. He carried that resilience into fatherhood, teaching his kids to laugh through life’s messes, whether it was breakups, car accidents, or the ticket his son Kyle kept forgetting to pay. 

Glenn didn’t believe in maps—or, apparently, fuel gauges. When he first met Norma, his forever love, he arrived in classic Glenn fashion: in his iconic Red Camaro, out of gas and windshield washer fluid. It became a metaphor for their life together: Glenn drove by instinct, Norma kept them grounded, and somehow, they always made it home. 

Of all the adventures Glenn had in life, none made him prouder than raising his two kids—something he loved to boast about whenever he got the chance.Their daughter, Jade, inherited his sense of adventure and his sharp wit. And Kyle inherited his love of music, and his quirky sense of humour. Paisley and Bailey, the two little Yorkies who ruled the household, were never far from Glenn’s side—always curled up next to him. He’d often joke that they took over his side of the bed, but his love for them was never in question.

Glenn didn’t just listen to music—he lived it. He was a self-proclaimed groupie with tales of backstage antics and iconic concerts, he’d recount stories of these nights in vivid detail like a man who truly lived and breathed the music culture of his time. His playlists were a time machine honouring classic rock n roll, folk rock, 80s glam rock, to 90s rap, and contemporary artists like Zac Brown Band and the Glorious Sons.

Glenn had a green thumb—or so he claimed. His gardening was legendary, though the family suspected his interests lay beyond the vines of the tomato plants. Still, he took pride in his backyard oasis, playing with the dogs, opening the pool which always seemed to have an issue, and kicking back with a cold corona in the sun layered in coconut oil. That’s how we will continue to remember him… 

We’ll be sharing stories, music, and maybe even a few dad jokes on:
Sunday, April 27, 1:00–4:00 PM
at Taproom260 in Orleans
Casual attire encouraged—Glenn wouldn’t have it any other way.

In lieu of flowers, consider a donation to:

• Canadian Cancer Society
• Parkinson Canada

Or a lovely succulent, they last longer!

Husband. Father. Brother. Rock ‘n’ roll philosopher. Master of adventure. Unmatched storyteller.

We love you Dad!