Gareth "Gar" Lewis, A Giant Of A Man With A Big Camera Hustling Up Film For CKCO News

REMEMBERING A MEDIA COLLEAGUE - I WAS EMBARRASSED THIS WEEK TO FIND OUT, BY GOLLY, I DIDN'T KNOW AS MUCH AS I SHOULD HAVE!

CKCO'S CAMERAMAN AND REPORTER, GARETH LEWIS DIED IN DECEMBER OF 2000 - SUZANNE AND I COULDN'T FIND THE DATE OF HIS PASSING

     I HATE TO ADMIT THIS, BECAUSE FORGETTING IT, IS SO VERY CONVENIENT AND EMOTIONALLY COMFORTABLE. BUT I AM FEELING RATHER PRECARIOUS, IN THIS MORTAL COIL, BIDDING FAREWELL RATHER REGULARLY THESE DAYS, OR SO IT SEEMS, TO MY FORMER MEDIA STAFFERS AND ASSOCIATES. AND YOU KNOW, IT'S NOT THE RESULT OF OLD AGE, THAT MY COLLEAGUES ARE PASSING. ALL HAVE DIED THE RESULT OF ILLNESS, SOME QUICKLY, OTHERS TRYING TO FIGHT OVER THE COURSE OF MANY YEARS.
    THIS YEAR I LOST A GOOD MATE, AND WRITING COLLEAGUE, BRANT SCOTT, LIVING WITH HIS FAMILY IN OTTAWA, AND SEVERAL YEARS BACK IT WAS MY MOST TRUSTED NEWS PHOTOGRAPHER, FOR THE HERALD-GAZETTE, JOHN BLACK OF GRAVENHURST. MY STAFF WRITER, BACK IN THE 1980'S, JUDITH BROCKLEHURST, DIED SEVERAL YEARS BACK, AS DID FORMER ADVERTISING MANAGER, BILL ALLEN, OF HUNTSVILLE. LOU SPECHT, AND THEN HIS SON DOUG SPECHT, WERE TWO MEDIA HEAVYWEIGHTS, WITH DECADES OF EXPERIENCE BETWEEN THEM, AND LOU WAS ONE OF MY BEST FRIENDS, AS A ROOKIE REPORTER, COVERING MUSKOKA LAKES COUNCIL. HE USED TO PASS ME NOTES, SO THAT I WOULD UNDERSTAND WHAT WAS GOING ON. WHEN I STARTED WORKING FOR THE MUSKOKA LAKES-GEORGIAN BAY BEACON, I WAS MOST FAMILIAR WITH WRITING POETRY. IT'S WHAT I STUDIED IN UNIVERSITY. THE ONLY THING THAT QUALIFIED ME FOR THE REPORTING JOB, WAS THAT I COULD WRITE REASONABLY WELL, AND SPELL CORRECTLY. I NEEDED A JOB, AND ONE OF MY REGULAR ASSIGNMENTS WAS COVERING LOCAL MUSKOKA COUNCILS. LOU KEPT ME FROM MAKING A FOOL OF MYSELF, AND GETTING FIRED. EVEN THOUGH HE WAS WORKING FOR THE COMPETITION PRESS, COURTESY BETWEEN REPORTERS WAS OF THE UTMOST IMPORTANCE TO HIM. BUT IT WAS NEVER ADMITTED TO OUR PUBLISHERS, FEARING WE MIGHT BE FIRED FOR SHARING INFORMATION. IT WAS LOU WHO PASSED ME A NOTE, SENSING I WAS IN A QUANDARY, TO TELL ME THAT THE TALL, DISTINGUISHED GUY MAKING A PRESENTATION TO COUNCIL, WAS FORMER MINISTER OF NATIONAL DEFENCE, PAUL HELLYER, THEN OWNER OF ARUNDEL LODGE NEAR TORRANCE. THIS IS WHERE I RAN INTO GARETH, THE REGIONAL REPORTER FOR THE ELECTRONIC MEDIA, FROM KITCHENER'S CKCO NEWS. HE WAS A MEDIA PERSONALITY I USED TO LEAN ON A LOT, BUT THEN HE HAD THE FRAME TO SUPPORT ME. A SORT OF FRIENDLY GIANT WITH A CAMERA ON HIS SHOULDER, AND BATTERY PACK ANCHORED TO HIS WAIST.
     I KNOW, BY ALWAYS THROTTLING FULL SPEED-AHEAD WITH THESE BLOGS, FULL OF BLUNT OPINION AND PROJECTION, AND NOT WANTING TO SHOW WEAKNESS AT MY CRAFT, WHETHER AS A WRITER OR REGIONAL HISTORIAN, I UNDOUBTEDLY GIVE THE OPINION I'M INFALLIBLE. THE PERFECT SPECIMEN OF AUTHORDOM. THE HISTORIAN'S HISTORIAN! ARROGANT? DO YOU THINK?
     THIS WEEK, BOB TIFFIN, OF CTV, RESEARCHING COMPANY EMPLOYEES WHO HAVE PASSED, WAS LOOKING FOR INFORMATION, ON THE DATE OF DEATH,  OF AN OLD MEDIA COLLEAGUE OF MINE, GARETH, "GAR" LEWIS, FORMERLY OF THE CTV AFFILIATE STATION, "CKCO" OF KITCHENER. HE WONDERED IF I COULD RECALL THE DATE, AS I SHOULD HAVE, BEING BOTH AN HISTORIAN AND FORMER MEDIA CHUM, WHO WORKED CLOSE WITH GAR IN THE 1980'S AND WELL INTO THE 1990'S. SUZANNE AND I BOTH KNEW GAR WELL, AND WE PRIDE OURSELVES ON BEING CRACKERJACK RESEARCHERS. IMAGINE OUR CHAGRIN THEN, WHEN WE COULDN'T, FOR LOVE NOR MONEY, FIND THE ELUSIVE DATE, OR EVEN THE SLIGHTEST MEMORIAL REFERENCE, TO GAR, WHO BY THE WAY, WAS INCREDIBLY WELL KNOWN IN OUR REGION. AFTER NEARLY TWO HOURS OF ONLINE SEARCHING, WE HAD TO ADMIT OUR SHORTFALL TO BOB WITH OUR HUMBLE APOLOGY. WE COULD HAVE CARRIED ON, BUT IT WOULD HAVE DEMANDED SOME PRIVACY CONCERNS BEING DEALT WITH, AT THE LOCAL FUNERAL HOME. THAT WAS THE NEXT STEP. WE NEVER GIVE UP ENTIRELY. THANKFULLY THOUGH, BOB EMAILED US BACK, THAT HE HAD BEEN ABLE TO FIND THE DATE, IN THE PUBLISHED MINUTES OF THE TOWNSHIP OF MUSKOKA LAKES, WHERE THERE HAD BEEN A TRIBUTE OFFERED BY THE MAYOR, AND ENDORSED BY COUNCIL, ON NEWS OF THIS MEDIA GIANT'S PASSING. GAR WAS A BIG MAN. NOT BIGGER THAN CKVR'S TRUE GIANT, FREELANCE CAMERAMAN, REPORTER, JOHN PALMER. I CAN STILL SEE THE HUGE SILHOUETTE OF HUMANITY, WHEN BIG JOHN AND GAR WOULD STAND TOGETHER, AT A MUSKOKA DISTRICT COUNCIL MEETING, BLOCKING OUT THE REST OF THE MEDIA, TRYING TO SEE AROUND, OR BETWEEN, THE GENTLE GIANTS OF THE LOCAL MEDIA, TO DETERMINE WHAT THE DISTRICT CHAIRMAN WAS UP TO WITH HIS WAVERING GAVEL. OF COURSE IT MAKES ME MAD THAT I COULDN'T HAVE HELPED BOB TIFFIN RIGHT AWAY WITH HIS REQUEST FOR INFORMATION. THERE'S NO EXCUSE FOR NOT KNOWING. WELL, ACTUALLY, THERE IS. IT'S PERSONAL BUT I DO WANT TO SHARE IT. SEEMS LIKE A GOOD OPPORTUNITY TO REVEAL THAT I'M FRIGHTENED OF SNAKES, PLANES AND FUNERALS.
      I DON'T ATTEND MEMORIALS OR FUNERALS, UNLESS THERE IS NO OTHER CHOICE, WITH THE KNOWLEDGE I WOULD BE OFFENDING FAMILY BY MY ABSENCE. THIS IS A HOLD-OUT FROM CHILDHOOD, WHEN I OVER-DID VISITATION AT THE LOCAL FUNERAL PARLOR, IN BRACEBRIDGE, VISITING TWO SCHOOL MATES WHO HAD BEEN KILLED IN A CAVE-IN OF A TUNNEL THEY WERE BUILDING, IN THE SIDE OF A MUCKY HILL. MY MOTHER WOULDN'T LET ME PLAY WITH THEM THAT RAINY AUTUMN DAY, AND BY MY CONFINEMENT TO HOME, SHE SAVED MY LIFE. MANY CLASSMATES OVER-DID THE VISITATION THING, AS WELL, AND I CAN'T EXPLAIN WHY THIS HAPPENED, OTHER THAN MORBID FASCINATION, WHICH CERTAINLY HAS AFFECTED ME ADVERSELY SINCE THE 1960'S ERA TRAGEDY. INSTEAD OF ATTENDING FUNERALS AND WAKES, WHERE I ALWAYS FEEL AWKWARD AND AT A LOSS OF WORDS, I WRITE MY OWN MEMORIAL TRIBUTES. I'M SURE YOU'VE NOTICED THIS, ESPECIALLY IN THE PAST YEAR. WITH GAR, I MUST HAVE WRITTEN A TRIBUTE, POSSIBLY FOR THE LOCAL PRESS, BUT IT WAS AT A TIME OF MY OWN TRANSITION, FROM PRINT MEDIA, TO DOING MORE PUBLISHING ONLINE INSTEAD. SOMEHOW, WHEN I NEEDED IT, I COULDN'T FIND WHAT HAD BEEN WRITTEN, AND THUS, COULDN'T HELP MR. TIFFIN, AND HIS MOST BASIC REQUEST FOR ASSISTANCE.
     BOB FOUND ME, AND MY CONNECTION TO GAR, AFTER AN ONLINE SEARCH, FINDING A BLOG I HAD WRITTEN ABOUT GRAVENHURST'S HUGH CLAIRMONT, WHERE I MENTIONED MY CKCO CAMERAMAN FRIEND. IT WAS GAR WHO PHONED ME THE CHRISTMAS HUGH CLAIRMONT DIED, TO LET ME KNOW OUR MUTUAL FRIEND HADN'T SURVIVED HIS LATEST BOUT WITH HEART PROBLEMS. HUGH WAS A REGIONAL MEDIA ICON; A LARGER THAN LIFE BAND LEADER, WELL KNOWN THROUGHOUT THE MUSKOKA DISTRICT, FOR HIS PERFORMANCES WITH THE BAND, "THE SANDSMEN." HE WAS A VETERAN COLUMNIST FOR THE GRAVENHURST NEWS FOR MANY YEARS, AND GAR AND I KNEW HIM FROM DOZENS OF MEDIA SCRUMS AT SPECIAL EVENTS, AND AT THE LOCAL PRESS CLUB, WHERE WE WOULD BUY HUGH A BEER OR TWO, SO WE COULD HEAR HIS RECOLLECTIONS OF THE BIG STORIES HE HAD COVERED IN HIS LIFE; HIS FAVORITE BEING THE BLAST OF HURRICANE HAZEL. NOT THE MAYOR, HAZEL. THE 1950'S HURRICANE THAT TURNED THE HOLLAND MARSH INTO A LAKE. I CAN REMEMBER WHEN SUZANNE YELLED OUT TO ME, IN THE SIDE YARD, OF BIRCH HOLLOW, TENDING A SMALL CHRISTMAS-THEMED CAMPFIRE, I HAD MADE FOR THE BOYS, TO LET ME KNOW GAR WAS ON THE PHONE, WITH NEWS ABOUT HUGH. "THE OLD MAN IS GONE TED," HE SAID. HUGHIE HAD PASSED AT SOUTH MUSKOKA MEMORIAL HOSPITAL OVERNIGHT. I HAD KNOWN HE WAS IN THE HOSPITAL, BUT HE'D BEEN THERE BEFORE AND ALWAYS MANAGED TO REBOUND. I HAD WORKED WITH HUGH AND HIS SON MARK, AT THE GRAVENHURST PUBLICATION, "MUSKOKA TODAY," SO THE NEWS HIT PRETTY HARD. THIS WAS A GUY WHO USED TO KICK-BACK WITH THE LIKES OF TORONTO SUN COLUMNIST PAUL RIMSTEAD, WHO ONCE HAD TO PHONE IN A COLUMN FROM HUGH'S BAY STREET HOUSE, RECOVERING FROM AN EVENING'S FESTIVITIES WITH HIS HOST. WE BOTH HAD A LOT OF RESPECT FOR HUGH IN THE LOCAL MEDIA GAME, AND HE WAS A WILD AND CRAZY MENTOR, WHO PUT SO MUCH CHARACTER INTO THE GATHERING AND REPORTING OF NEWS. ABOVE ALL, HE WAS A HELL OF A GOOD WRITER, TO SHARE AN ALE WITH AFTER A DAY'S HUSTLING AROUND THE DISTRICT FOR STORIES.
     ANYWAY, THIS IS THE REASON BOB TIFFIN WAS ABLE TO FIND ME. YOU'D THINK THEN, THAT AS CLOSE COLLEAGUES FOR A LOT OF YEARS, I WOULD HAVE BEEN ABLE TO REMEMBER THE DAY AND YEAR GAR ALSO PASSED.
     THE LAST BIG PROJECT GAR AND I WORKED ON TOGETHER, WAS WITH TALK-SHOW HOST BETTY THOMPSON, OF CKCO TELEVISION, WHO DIED IN 1994. I FOUND THE DATE OF HER DEATH ONLINE, NOT BECAUSE I HAD THE GOOD SENSE TO WRITE IT DOWN WHEN I FIRST HEARD THE NEWS. DEATH UNSETTLES ME, THAT'S THE PROBLEM. AND I SURE AS HELL WON'T LIKE DEATH WHEN IT FACES-OFF WITH ME EITHER. BETTY WANTED MY HELP, AS A LOCAL WRITER / HISTORIAN, TO ACCOMPANY HER ON THREE FEATURE STORIES. I'M PRETTY SURE IT WAS IN THE EARLY SUMMER OF 1988. BETTY, AN ENTHUSIASTIC AND TALENTED INTERVIEWER, WANTED HELP ON A FEATURE STORY, SHE PLANNED TO DO ON BRACEBRIDGE GLASS BLOWER, JAMIE SHERMAN, WHO I HAD WRITTEN A "MUSKOKA SUN" ARTICLE ON, SOMETIME EARLIER THAT SPRING. JAMIE WAS REPLICATING ONE OF CANADA'S MOST HISTORIC GLASS PITCHERS, FOR THE SHOP COLLECTION OF THE ROYAL ONTARIO MUSEUM, WHICH I THINK WAS CALLED THE "LILY" PATTERN; AND BETTY WANTED AN UP-CLOSE AND PERSONAL INTERVIEW, WITH FILM COVERAGE PROVIDED BY THE GOOD NATURED MR. LEWIS. I WENT OUT WITH BETTY AND GAR TO JAMIE'S STUDIO, AND IT WAS AN INCREDIBLE SESSION, WATCHING THE ARTISAN FORM THE BEAUTIFUL AND DELICATE GLASS PITCHER FROM THE RED GLOWING FURNACE. IT WAS A GREAT AFTERNOON. IRONICALLY, OR SO IT SEEMS NOW, AT THE SAME TIME, I WAS WORKING WITH JAMIE, TO HELP TURN PART OF BRACEBRIDGE COMMUNITY MUSEUM, WOODCHESTER VILLA, INTO A GALLERY FOR THE MUSKOKA ARTS AND CRAFTS ASSOCIATION, WHICH ACTUALLY CAME TO FRUITION SOON AFTER, AND GAR GOT TO COVER THIS STORY AS WELL.
     AT THE SAME TIME, GAR WORKED WITH BETTY AND I, TO DO A FEATURE ON MUSKOKA AUCTIONEER, ART CAMPBELL, A GOOD FRIEND OF MINE, AND THEN WE WENT TO THE WELL KNOWN GRAVENHURST RESTAURANT, ASCONA PLACE, WHERE WE MET WITH FORMER MAYOR, WANDA MILLER, AND (GULL LAKE) BARGE-CONCERT MAINSTAY, AND BETTY DID HER INTERVIEW AFTER WE ENJOYED A NICE LUNCH. AS WELL, BETTY TREATED GAR, JAMIE SHERMAN, AND I, TO A SPECIAL BRUNCH, WITH WELL KNOWN MUSKOKA BUSINESSMAN, BRUCE EVANS, AT GRANDVIEW RESORT IN HUNTSVILLE, WHERE THE TELEVISION HOST HAD A RESIDENCE.
     I FIRST MET GAR IN THE EARLY 1980'S, WHEN I BECAME EDITOR OF THE HERALD-GAZETTE. WE ACTUALLY STARTED ON A RATHER SOUR NOTE, WHEN I SENT A TERSE MESSAGE TO HIM, ABOUT USING OUR EDITORIAL COPY FROM THE NEWSPAPER, AS PART OF HIS ON-AIR REPORTING. IT WAS CUSTOMARY FOR THIS TO HAPPEN, LOCALLY AT LEAST, AND HE HAD BEEN DOING THIS PRIOR TO MY ARRIVAL, WITH THE BRACEBRIDGE EXAMINER AND THE HERALD-GAZETTE. HE ONLY USED A PORTION OF THE COPY, SAY, FOR EXAMPLE, FROM THE FRONT PAGE THAT WEEK, TO BOLSTER HIS NEWS REPORTS BACK TO CKCO. THE ONLY REASON IT BECAME AN ISSUE FOR ME THAT WEEK, FULL OF RELATED CRISIS, WAS THAT A SERIOUS ERROR IN A STORY ON OUR FRONT PAGE, WAS BAD ENOUGH IN PRINT, TO THEN MAKE IT ON-AIR FOR THOUSANDS MORE TO VIEW. WITHOUT KNOWING IT, GAR HAD REPEATED THE SAME MISTAKE, AND IT REACHED THOUSANDS MORE VIEWERS, EXACERBATING THE ORIGINAL GOOF-UP ON OUR PART. AS EDITOR I SPENT CONSIDERABLE TIME THAT WEEK APOLOGIZING TO THE INDIVIDUAL, WHO HAD BEEN MISQUOTED BY ONE OF OUR REPORTING STAFF. WHEN GAR GOT MY MESSAGE THROUGH OUR WRITER, BRANT SCOTT, (THE FELLOW WHO GOT US ALL TOGETHER FOR A GLASS OF BEER TO MAKE-UP), THAT I WAS CONCERNED ABOUT HIM USING THE COPY, HE CAME RIGHT OVER TO THE OFFICE TO SEE ME, UPSET ABOUT HIS ROLE IN THE REPETITION OF OUR ORIGINAL ERROR. IT REALLY WAS THE ONLY REASON I HAD BEEN CONCERNED ABOUT SHARING EDITORIAL COPY. I KNOW I HURT HIS FEELINGS THAT DAY, AND I HAVE REGRETTED IT EVER SINCE. GAR WAS A HUGELY COOPERATIVE, SHARING MEDIA-TYPE, WHO RETURNED FAVORS AND EXTENDED NEWS TIPS CONSTANTLY. GAR WOULD SEEM TO KNOW WHEN WE WERE HAVING A CRAPPY NEWS WEEK. HE'D GIVE BRANT A CALL AT THE OFFICE, AND TIP HIM OFF ABOUT WHAT HE HAD HEARD WAS COMING DOWN THE PIKE. HE DIDN'T VIEW US AS COMPETITION, BUT AS NEWS MATES. HE HAD THE MOST INFECTIOUS, DEEP LAUGH, AND WAS A MASTERFUL STORY TELLER. I REMEMBER SITTING WITH GAR AND HIS WIFE PRISCILLA, MANY, MANY YEARS AGO, AT THEIR ATTRACTIVE COTTAGE HOME, ON A BEAUTIFUL LITTLE LAKE, BETWEEN BAYSVILLE AND DORSET, IN THE TOWNSHIP OF LAKE OF BAYS, NOT FAR FROM THE STUDIO OF WELL KNOWN BIRD CARVER, WELDON TRACEY. I THINK THAT'S WHY BRANT AND I TOOK A DRIVE UP THAT WAY, ONE DAY, AND WOUND UP VISITING WITH GAR AFTER OUR INTERVIEW.
     TRYING TO DO MY PART, TIPPING GAR OFF TO INTERESTING STORIES, AND FEATURES, I THOUGHT WERE GOOD FOR CKCO NEWS SPOTS, I PHONED HIM ONE NIGHT, TO TELL HIM ABOUT A FELLOW WHO HAD DEVELOPED AN INTERESTING NEW WILDERNESS THEMED BOARD GAME, THAT WAS JUST THEN BEING MARKETED IN MUSKOKA. IT HAD BEEN CREATED BY A RATHER ECCENTRIC GENTLEMAN, BUT IT WAS DIFFERENT THAN OTHER GAMES I'D DONE STORIES ON, FROM OTHER ENTREPRENEURS IN THE REGION. GAR THOUGHT IT WOULD BE WORTH STOPPING BY, AS NEWS GATHERING WAS PRETTY SLOW DURING THAT WINTER MONTH. I USED TO WATCH CKCO ALL THE TIME, BACK THEN, BUT I DIDN'T SEE THE STORY IN THE DAYS FOLLOWING, SO I ASSUMED HE HADN'T FOUND IT INTERESTING ENOUGH TO MAKE THE VISIT. THIS OFTEN HAPPENED, BUT IT WAS UNDERSTANDABLE. MY NEWSPAPER COVERAGE OF THE GAME WENT OVER PRETTY WELL, AND I THINK THE INVENTOR SOLD A HALF DOZEN GAMES AS A RESULT. ONE AFTERNOON, I WAS ACTUALLY STUDYING THE GAME, THE FELLOW HAD GIVEN ME, AS A PROMOTION, WHEN GAR CALLED. HE SAID. "TED, I JUST WANTED TO THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME THAT TIP ABOUT THE GAME BOARD." I WAS GLAD IT WORKED FOR HIM. "YOU KNOW, IT TURNED INTO A MUCH BIGGER STORY THAN YOU GAVE ME. IN FACT, THAT'S WHY I'M CALLING YOU NOW," HE SAID, WITH TRACE EXCITEMENT IN HIS VOICE. "I WENT OUT TO DO THE STORY (WITH AN ASSISTANT), AND JUST AS WE ARRIVED, THE POLICE WERE LEAVING, WITH THE GUY WE WERE GOING TO INTERVIEW, CUFFED IN THE BACK SEAT. HEY, THANKS MAN, FOR THE GREAT STORY TIMES TWO. FEATURE AND BREAKING NEWS IN ONE VISIT." WELL LET'S JUST SAY, THERE WAS A LITTLE BIT EXTRA GOING ON AT THIS HOMESTEAD IN THE WILD WOODS, AND IT MADE THE FRONT PAGE THE NEXT WEEK FOR A MUCH DIFFERENT REASON, THAN TO ANNOUNCE INCREASED SALES OF HIS GAME BOARDS. WE LAUGHED ABOUT THIS MISADVENTURE, WITH DIVIDENDS, FOR YEARS AFTER, WHENEVER WE'D MEET-UP FOR EVENT COVERAGE.
     THE LAST TIME I MET GAR LEWIS, WAS IN THE SUMMER OF 2000, WITH THIS THEN SIGNIFICANT OTHER, IRENE, AT A FLEA MARKET HELD IN MEMORIAL PARK, IN BRACEBRIDGE. SON ROBERT AND I HAD A BOOTH, SELLING TWO BRACEBRIDGE HISTORIES I HAD WRITTEN THE PREVIOUS WINTER. I HAD HEARD GAR WAS ILL, BUT ON THAT DAY, OUTSIDE OF BEING THINNER THAN I REMEMBER, HE WAS IN GOOD SPIRITS, WITH THAT TRADEMARK DEEP LAUGH. HE FELT THE CANCER WAS BEING MANAGED, AND WAS POSITIVE ABOUT THE OUTLOOK DOCTORS HAVE GIVEN HIM. WE HAD A SHORT VISIT, AND PROMISED TO GET TOGETHER SOME TIME IN THE FUTURE, TO REKINDLE SOME OF THOSE OLD REPORTING MOMENTS, SHARED BETWEEN THE ELECTRONIC AND PRINT MEDIA, HUSTLING TO FILL TIME SLOTS, ON AIR, AND PRINT SPACES BETWEEN NEWSPAPER ADVERTISEMENTS. THEN, I CLEARLY REMEMBER SUZANNE TELLING ME, SHE HAD JUST READ ABOUT GAR'S PASSING, IN ONE OF THE NEWSPAPERS; FEELING STUNNED BY THE MESSAGE, I LEASHED THE DOG AND WENT FOR A WALK THROUGH THE BOG. I DO THIS A LOT WHEN LIFE GETS BURDENSOME. I GUESS I WAS SO STUNNED IN FACT, THAT I FORGOT TO CLIP THE ARTICLE OUT OF THE PAPER, OR WRITE DOWN THE DATE, FOR FUTURE REFERENCE. I DON'T KNOW WHETHER THERE WAS A FUNERAL OR NOT, OR EVEN A WAKE, BUT I COULDN'T HAVE GONE REGARDLESS. IT'S NOT THAT I WOULD HAVE FAINTED, OR BEGUN CRYING UNCONTROLLABLY. I JUST LOSE MY ABILITY TO COMMUNICATE SENSIBLY. I BECOME DISTANT, AND SOLEMN, AND IT FREAKS MY FRIENDS OUT, WHO KNOW ME AS BEING JOVIAL AND QUITE SPIRITED, EVEN DURING PERIODS OF CRISIS. I THINK THIS PHOBIA-STYLE REACTION TO FUNERALS, DOES GO BACK TO CHILDHOOD. I SCARED MYSELF SO BADLY, ABOUT THE APPEARANCE OF DEATH TO THE LIVING, THAT IT SANK DEEP INTO MY PSYCHE. I CAN'T TELL YOU HOW MANY FAMILIES I'VE HAD TO APOLOGIZE TO, FOR NOT ATTENDING FUNERALS AND MEMORIAL SERVICES FOR THEIR KIN FOLK. I TRY TO MAKE UP FOR IT, BY WRITING MY FOND RECOLLECTIONS OF THEM INSTEAD. WORKS SOMETIMES, NOT SO WELL, ON OTHER OCCASIONS. IT MUST HAVE BEEN THE CASE WITH GAR, THAT I JUST COULDN'T FACE THE PROFOUND SADNESS, OF BIDDING ONE OF THE KINDEST MEN I HAVE EVER KNOWN, GOD SPEED TO HEAVEN. I CAN ONLY HOPE THAT MY ABSENCE, DIDN'T SEND THE MESSAGE, I DIDN'T CONSIDER HIM A CLOSE COLLEAGUE. HE WAS.
     UNDOUBTEDLY BOB TIFFIN DIDN'T EXPECT ALL THIS VERBIAGE, FROM A SIMPLE REQUEST, FOR THE DATE OF GAR'S DEATH, FOURTEEN YEARS AGO THIS MONTH. I FELT LIKE SUCH A TOOL THAT I COULDN'T ANSWER HIS QUESTION. IT'S WHAT HISTORIANS DO, TO EARN THEIR KEEP, FOR GOSH SAKES. BUT HIS EMAIL DID MAKE ME WONDER, HOW I HANDLED THE NEWS BACK IN 2000, AND WHY I COULDN'T FIND THE TRIBUTE STORY I'M SURE I WROTE. REGARDLESS, OF WHY I DID, OR DIDN'T COMPOSE SOMETHING OR OTHER, I WANTED IT PUT ON THE RECORD NOW; JUST IN CASE SOMEONE ELSE WANTS TO REMINISCE, ABOUT ONE OF MUSKOKA'S BEST KNOWN AND RESPECTED NEWS REPORTERS, FROM WHAT WE BOTH KNEW THEN, AS A HALCYON BYGONE ERA.
     THANKS BOB, FOR STIRRING UP MY MEMORIES A TAD. MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOU.

THE MEDIA REPORTING ON MATTERS OF PUBLIC INTEREST, AND THEN, UNFORTUNATELY, WE BECOME THE DAILY NEWS

     The media folk in my newspaper days, of the 1980's, here in Muskoka, were a pretty close bunch. There weren't many of us, but we held together as a matter of self preservation. Heaped in the lifeboat in rough seas. No one wanting to be captain. We laughed at our misadventures, and tried to figure out ways to circumvent future disasters out on the hustings. Like spilling hot coffee on the lap of the local Member of Parliament, or the Administrator of the Hospital. I'm pretty sure Gar liked his job, except some of the assignments he got. We met up at accident, fire and crime scenes, not because we were excited to see carnage, but because our pay cheque was directly linked to our performance getting the news stories.
    For us, in a tough print battle with the opposition press, it meant never, ever letting them scoop us. I know the general manager sat down at his desk with the Bracebridge Examiner, early every Wednesday morning, once both papers had hit the news stands. You wouldn't think there could even be a weekly newspaper war, when the circulation for each, was somewhere below 10,000. But it was intense, and it had less to do with us, than with management, determined to out-perform each other. I'd be asked by the general manager to explain why we didn't get certain high profile front page stories, the opposition had run on their front page, and right down to the kind of features they ran inside.
    I knew how to defend our news staff, because we did have many weeks when our front page was loaded with scoops. The opposition reporters, who we drank with at the local press club (a table at either the Bracebridge Albion, or the Holiday House), were exceptional talents as well, and we had to applaud them with a cold pint, when they did pull some magic out of the hat, beating us with a big story above the fold. I caught crap on each occasion, for missing these stories, but we always managed to pull the Marx Brothers "hat gag" on the GM, and he'd get so mesmerized by counter point, I'd be dismissed, or dispatched to grab an advertising photograph of a used car, at a local dealership. That would make him feel better.
     Reporters for both the print and electronic media, all had various complaints about their jobs, ranging from getting frozen toes standing out at cross country ski races, or at accident scenes, and then having to wait an hour longer, to get photos of a special presentation, at the local curling club; or a ceremonial puck-drop at the arena. We often huddled together, trying not to freeze, or fall asleep standing, and then freeze, waiting for the opportunity to take the images, and retreat to our warm cars. When we came back from terrible crimes scenes, such as the shooting of an Ontario Provincial Police Officer, on Highway 11, at Port Sydney, it was nice then, to have associate reporters to talk to, in order to drain our own anxiety. Just because we weren't covering a war, or on location to report on the aftermath of an earthquake, or deadly flood, some of the scenes we stood-at together, with our knees wobbling in a weird unison out of fear, were draining on the soul. Some of our managers thought we had a pretty easy job, which may explain why we got paid so little, for these outreach missions, to report news for the benefit of the public's right to know.
     When we'd sit down for a few pints, after work, we didn't talk about being at accident scenes, or at fires, where there was a loss of life. We talked about anything else, and maybe that was the problem. We held a lot inside, because it was the kind of coverage most of us would have gladly dropped, if it hadn't been for management's insistence, we couldn't get scooped. I never attended a tragic scene that it didn't profoundly impact me, and every time, all I wanted to do, was run the opposite way. I've seen and heard things that I can never get out of my head. But I have always felt, that seeing as I also witnessed so many other amazing and heartwarming situations, come to fruition, that it sort of rounded-off into a happy ending to my news own career.
     We reported the news, the features stories, and the man on the street interviews. We covered the breaking news, with the same commitment to our jobs, as the thousands of assignments, to cover what we called the "grip and grins," (cheque passings and store openings and sundry other ribbon cuttings) But we all knew what it meant to be "the news." Nobody wanted this to happen. We actually used to talk about this, as being our number one dread; that one day we would be reported-on, by others, for undetermined reasons. I always worried about getting caught drinking and driving, which by the way, is now admission that I did a couple of times. Death. We didn't want to make the obit page. No kidding, we used to kid about that very thing, on press night, after the paper had been "put to bed." "Well mates, we stayed off the obituary page for another week, cheers."