Published: February 2025
Visitors to the seventh floor of The Ottawa Hospital’s General campus may do a double take outside Room 7123. A plaque beside the door references “PapaJo” Johns. Who, you may ask, is PapaJo? And why is he called that? Well, that’s exactly the story PapaJo’s family wants to share — a story about a much-loved man, a terrible disease, and a desire to make a difference.
Room 7123 is where Peter “PapaJo” Johns spent his last days in 2016 after a difficult, two-year struggle with sarcoma. Just 50 years old at the time, Peter died surrounded by 17 family members, as many as they could cram into the small room. His sister, Lynda Clarke, says Peter was a positive, vibrant force right up to the end, even suggesting everyone sing the Scottish “farewell” song, Auld Lang Syne.
“He told us, ‘Now you guys need to take a piece of my light and be a positive force in this world.’”
— Lynda Clarke
“We were all a bit confused and asked him ‘Why do you want to sing that?’” recalls Lynda. That song is typically sung on New Year’s Eve, of course, to bid farewell to the old and welcome in the new — which is how Peter intended his passing to be.
“He knew it was going to be a new beginning for all of us without him there. He told us, ‘I have my light, and now you guys need to take a piece of my light and be a positive force in this world.’ And so, that’s what we’re doing,” says Lynda.
100 days of care at The Ottawa Hospital
Lynda and her husband Greg run Valley Utilities Ltd., a leading utility company in Ottawa, which, since 2007, has contributed more than $160,000 to The Ottawa Hospital — all in support of priority needs. That same year, Greg had a serious work-related accident that sent him to our hospital 80 times in the span of 100 days.
“We just couldn’t believe the exceptional care he got.”
— Lynda Clarke
“His big toe was nearly severed, he was covered in cuts, he had hot asphalt pieces all over his body, and two life-threatening infections,” Lynda explains. “But the hospital took such good care of him. We just couldn’t believe the exceptional care he got.”
Motivated to support the Campaign to Create Tomorrow
Not long after, the Clarkes were approached by Paul McCarney, a family friend and long-time supporter of The Ottawa Hospital, who wanted to know if they were interested in supporting the hospital through the Foundation’s President’s Breakfast and, more recently, the Campaign to Create Tomorrow. They readily agreed. Peter’s sarcoma diagnosis motivated Lynda and Greg to act and drove home the importance of a new hospital campus to replace the century-old Civic.
When it opens, the new hospital will be the most technologically advanced research hospital in the country. Lynda and Greg are supporting the build through a recent donation to the Campaign to Create Tomorrow, an ambitious, $500-million campaign that will also focus on taking research to unprecedented heights.
Sharing ‘PapaJo’s ‘light with others
An athlete all his life, Peter was particularly fond of baseball and co-founded the Nepean Knights Baseball Club. Peter and his wife Allison raised three kids, and he coached their children’s teams, as well. Lynda figures his nickname “PapaJo” was somehow tied to “Shoeless Joe” Jackson, a Major League Baseball player in the early 1900s, though no one is entirely sure.
Sarcomas are rare cancers that develop in the bones and soft tissues. Peter had a subtype that had also metastasized. “A fraction of people get diagnosed with sarcoma,” says Lynda, “and we said that just proves how rare Peter was.”
“It is time for this new campus. It’s just long overdue.”
— Lynda Clarke
Unfortunately, cancer is not rare in her family with many close family members battling the disease. Her mother has had four different kinds of cancer, and she’s lost two of her three aunts to cancer. But Lynda says groundbreaking research already underway at The Ottawa Hospital and plans for a new campus are giving her reason to hope.
“It is time for this new campus. It’s just long overdue,” she says. “I hope I never need the services, but I want to know that they’re there for anybody else who does.”
As she thinks about the future, Lynda can’t help but think of the past, and particularly, of her brother, who, right up to the day he died, considered himself the luckiest man in the world.
“So next time you pass by Room 7123, you’ll know PapaJo’s story,” she says, “and perhaps pocket just a little piece of his light to share with others.”
