It's just plain broken!

As many of you already aware, my next younger brother Dave lost his life at the ungodly age of 56 in a motorcycle accident when a driver coming the opposite way decided to turn left right in front of him on Wed Aug 2nd, 2023. Fast forward to this past week, and the driver's case was finally put in front of the legal system, a full 14 months later, and only due to the fact that the guilty plea was submitted.

The driver was an 60 something year old lady, and although there has been much speculation on the minds of many close to our family as to why she made the decision, there equally as many anguished periods of bewildered contemplation in trying to understand why the gears of the legal system were grinding at such a frustratingly slow pace. Information surrounding the accident was kept close to the chests of the authorities for a painfully long stretch, and our family struggled with the snippets that did find their way to us, often prompting anguish and heartache.

At the beginning of October (I have forgotten the actual date), the Crown met with those in the family that could attend to discuss the ramifications surrounding a handful of delays and decisions that were having a profoundly disturbing effect on the proceedings. Despite the delay, my family was relieved to meet with the potential of learning information that came directly "from the horse's mouth", as it were ... or at least we thought.

The delay in legal action, it was explained, was due to the backlog of cases, and to the rights that the accused had to 'appropriate' representation, specifically her ESL needs requiring a translator. These two issues were creating a potentially horrific cascade of dominos that might allow her to walk away without meaningful repercussion. I am sure that anyone reading this can empathize with the emotional roller coaster we had just been loaded into. As it turned out, for the case to proceed to a legitimate trial, all of her rights had to met to make the mark in the court calendar, and (drumroll) if the case couldn't be scheduled within 18 months, the pending charges would be dropped.

Wait ... WHAT?

The only saving grace (odd term in this case) was if she were to plead guilty to a lesser charge, making an illegal left turn, a plea that would remove my brother's death from the case entirely, she would still face some form of punishment, even if it was simply a fine. Any sane individual in our family's situation would find that unpalatable and insulting, but there it was, staring us dead in the face, it's balled fist ready to strike. With the Crown and the attending officer choosing their words very carefully, they responded to the angered outcries of consternation coming from our side of the table, as it became obvious that Dave's demise was about to slip through the cracks in the legal system like so much melting ice.

All of this came to a head when our family was invited (another odd choice of word) to Zoom the court proceedings surrounding her plea. Imagine if you can, being the mother of a child who was robbed of a full life and the person responsible be allowed to pay a fine in traffic court, but that's what my mother had to deal with, and the flames of her pain were 'fanned' by the defence attorney's attempts to paint his client as the victim. Since our family was muted and unable to interact, there were questions that arose that begged to have answers, so following the conclusion of the trial, my mother reached out to the system for answers, but the responses only served to exacerbate the confusion.

The defence stated that my brother was going 77 kph just prior to the collision, but anyone who knew Dave in any way, shape, or form would know that he was a very conscientious and defensive cyclist.

The response received indicated that tire marks indicated a speed of 40 kph at the time of impact, while the accident recreation report cited it was likely that Dave was accelerating towards a speed of 77 kph. There was dash-cam footage of the collision showing the car cutting off Dave, leaving him little or no time to react, so does it even matter how fast he was going? The fact that the defence was allowed to insinuate that Dave was at fault in some manner was treacherous and deceitful.

The defence also stated that the accused required a full year to pay the $1000 maximum fine for her discretion, due to the fact that she existed on a monthly income of $800 per month.

Who can possibly live in the city of Barrie on $800 per month? It's obvious that she has either (a) hidden streams of income, or (b) someone assisting her. 

What remains is an unpalatable gross negligence that the Canadian legal system equates my brother's life to $1000.00, and the pain, anguish, suffering, and financial implications of his family's life without him in it the carnage of what we Canadians are forced to accept in today's world. Compounding all of the decrepit details was the revelation that she would no longer be allowed to drive ... unless it was an emergency. 

Seriously? Who gets to define what amounts to an emergency? Her? Her family?

Our legal system is just plain broken folks, FULL STOP!

I love you Dave, always have, always will.

God rest your soul as you family struggles with how Canada has decided what your life was worth. Our clan will continue to support Dave's immediate family as they deal with the continuing injustice that has befallen them.

No ordinary guy!

When you decide that you have found THE ONE, and you both agree to make it official, you have to accept their family dynamics into your life ... NOT that I am complaining. Actually, if I'm honest, far from it, but we all have our curiosities, stories, and skeletons, so when you get the opportunity to learn a wee bit more about that "adopted" group, it's usually an eyebrow raising affair.

My bestie has an Uncle Dick ... or I guess it's appropriate to say she had, since he passed recently ... the older brother of my MIL Pearl. Although I was able to spend some quality hours with Uncle Dick over the past few years, I didn't really know his story very well. I learned a lot of new information when we gathered at his home following a beautifully loving farewell service.

His birth names were James Samuel. At that gathering following his service his curious nickname was discussed at length and was punctuated by a lot of head scratching and shoulder shrugging since no one could offer information about where the moniker came from, other than the fact that he had been addressed that way for decades. Joyce has always known her uncle as Dick, but the gathering of life-long friends at his service would reveal that he was known as Jim or Jimmy as well.

How confusing is that?

Now Dick is a name that you don't hear much anymore, aside from the obvious snickers it generates from today's young'uns, and it seems to have fallen out of favour. I've know a few Dicks over my years (the NAME not the quality), but all of them were originally labelled Richard, and for a variety of reasons, were "shortened" to Dick. If you wish a more all-encompassing explanation, CLICK HERE, but suffice it to say that once the 1970's hit, and with it an expanded sexual liberty, the oft used nickname for the male appendage became wide spread, prompting the name to fall out of the top 1000 baby names quickly. 

Getting back to Joyce's uncle.

Almost as a polar opposite of the insinuated meaning for male parts, Uncle Dick was a genuinely astonishing human being who was quick with a smile, full of one liners, generous to a fault, and definitely "old school" ... but he was born in 1925 so no one could blame him! One of the polarizing personalities throughout his years in his adopted home town of Georgetown, Dick was an iconic symbol of what it was to be a good person, establishing life long friendships in his neighbourhood, on the golf course, and at the coffee shops in town. Above all else, Dick was the consummate family man, insisting that all family gatherings take place in his home, spreading his love equally as he revelled in his grandchildren and great grandchildren.

Where did this gem of a human learn to be so awesome?

Born in 1925 into the abject poverty of Upper Gagetown in rural New Brunswick, he quickly learned that there was a popular way to live life, and then there was the Painter way ... actually, the Paynter way ... but that's another story for another time. The family suffered the untimely passing of their father in 1933, what history buffs will recognize was during The Great Depression, with Dick a wee lad of 8 years (grade 3) at the time, the family decision was that he would forgo the remainder of his school experience to help the family's need. He found work thanks to his older brother Charlie in a logging camp, chopping wood for the cook to run the stove, true 'blue collar' employment that would be a continuing theme throughout his working life. As it would turn out, trees would become a central component of his earning years, investing 30 years at the paper mill in Georgetown after moving to Ontario with his beloved Ruth.

In a rather cute story, Dick met his soul mate Ruth thanks to his job building roads in rural NB. He was recommended a rooming house run by Ruth's mother, and since her daughter would need a ride back into town every now and again, the rather smitten Dick was more than happy to oblige her needs. After a few shared journeys, the rest is history, as the saying goes.

Shouldering more than their fair share of hardships, the family would lose 2nd born son John Paynter in WWI, drawing the remaining siblings together with even tighter bonds, John's military pension helped make ends meet during some really tough times. Life in Upper Gagetown during this point in history meant no running water, no indoor plumbing, and even no floors in portions of the home. 

Fast forward a gaggle of years, Dick and his older brother Charlie relocated to Georgetown, and in a stroke of financial genius, purchased a large triple lot in the city's northeast end. They severed the lot into 3, sold the one, the proceeds helping build two identical homes side by each in 1955. Living beside your brother means that your two families become intertwined, the kids viewing their cousins more like siblings. Add to this that my in-laws, Pearl and Jim, lived in the same city not far away, and the recipe for a tight family becoming even tighter was a certainty. Unfortunately, Charlie and his wife Helen would predecease Dick, as would his beloved Ruth, but everyone's favourite uncle would remain a stalwart force in the neighbourhood for 49 years until being 98 years young eventually forced the family hand, his health deterioration causing a fall that forced a hospital stay and Covid infection that proved to be too much for his system to handle.

James Samuel Paynter mercifully passed in his 99th year.

Joyce and I offer our most sincere, heartfelt condolences to Joyce's Mom Pearl for the loss of her bestest buddy Dick, her cousin Kevin and the rest of the Georgetown Paynter clan, and Joyce's many relatives who made the trip from near and far to celebrate a life well lived.

He was CERTAINLY no ordinary guy!

I'm honoured and humbled

Sometimes we're good, but more often than not, we've surrounded ourselves with good, and that often leads, to coin a phrase from my good friend Kevin Simms, to SUPER good! Those are the things that fill our hearts with warm fuzzies, feed our souls with positivism, and prompt a 1000 watt smile. Thanks to many quality choices over my 35+ year coaching career, I wa
s blessed with relationships that made me a better human, and a prime example of that was a deep friendship that blossomed thanks to our love of a fringe sport here in Canada ... Rugby.

Ron Andrews and I met while pounding the sidewalks out front of Barrie Central just days after making the leap from the elementary panel to secondary, a partnership formed over a passion for coaching and a love of rugby. Moving forward, we got up to a host of shenanigans over our 20+ years together, many of them immersed in high school sports as we co-coached our way through teaching careers at Barrie Central then Barrie North. In my personal truest personification of the saying "the whole greater than the sum of its parts", we shared in a lot of success and jointly created portions of our resumes that prompted my nomination of Ron for the Barrie Sports Hall of Fame in 2019, and his reciprocated nomination of me here in 2024. 

My induction ceremony is still fresh in my mind.

Below is the acceptance speech I gave at the behest of the BSHOF committee on that night. I decided to share it here because it makes some poignant points which I feel strongly need to be heard by as many as possible.

Members of the Barrie Sports Hall of Fame Committee, fellow inductees, esteemed guests, beloved families, and cherished friends,

As part of the input from the Hall of Fame committee, it was suggested that a small acceptance speech would be appropriate … emphasis on small. Those of you who know me well are astutely aware that I don’t shy away from the microphone, so I’ll do my best to keep to an acceptable time frame. 

My apologies in advance, be they required.

It behooves me to open with a heartfelt, sincere thank you to my former colleague, co-coach, mentor and incredible friend, Ron Andrews, for not only nominating me, but leading me, supporting me, and embracing our friendship over so many years. We are kindred spirits, he and I, with nary a disagreement during our entire relationship, something I have come to know as extremely rare and special.

Without that relationship, there wouldn’t be this honour.

Any person bestowed such an honour has a lengthy list of those in their lives that sacrificed to allow the bullet list of accomplishments leading first to nomination, then enshrinement. I am no different, but considering that my experience permeates a number of organizations, sports, and institutions over 30 plus years, to list individuals would inevitably mean that some may be missed, and that would not be my wish. My ever-present goal was to ensure that each of the coaches and athletes I interacted with came away with an understanding of how much I appreciated them and their efforts so I am confident that they know how much our shared time meant, and great a part they played in the pathway to me standing before you tonight.

I thank each and every one of them with all I have.

As such, I do feel compelled to declare my sincerest and profound gratitude to my wife Joyce since it was her willingness to become SuperMom in those early years that made that resume possible. She's the rock that we built our Life on together as she shouldered the load of our toddler's needs and all that comes along with that, while I was chasing my passions. It's considered corny to say, but I absolutely grow more in love with her each and every year. 

My gratitude also absolutely extends to my children Maddison and Keaton, since they each sacrificed hours with dad and tolerated me swooping in for dinner, bath, and bedtime routines, before I bolted out the door again for a night game or practice. When they were a little older, some of that time was spent sharing their chosen sports, and they shouldered that “blessing” like Champions, enduring the tenuous combo of DAD-COACH, each blossoming in the circumstances as we jointly realized more than our fair share of success. I will never regret coaching my kids, but you’ll have to ask them if it was worth it. I will unequivocally state that standing here before you is one SUPER proud dad.

To be here today is a dream come true, but not for the reasons that some might surmise at first guest. Having this incredible honour bestowed upon me and my family, in my mind, is the ultimate justification for the countless hours invested in other people's children in my determination to ensure that the young people I had opportunity to work with came away from their athletic experiences with the same pride, satisfaction, and sense of accomplishment that was gifted to me when growing up in this amazing city. 

For me, coaching has always been about paying it forward, a lesson I learned at the knee of my dearly departed father, gone now 18 years. He would be sitting there in the front row, grinning like a Cheshire Cat. I am wearing his Queen's Football Hall of Fame ring tonight that a part of him is present to 'see' this.

Let’s not call it by any other name … I was, and continue to be, blessed. 

Blessed to have had life-altering moments as an athlete thanks to the coaches who gifted me hours out of their lives, igniting the flames of my own coaching desires.

Blessed to have had all those parents trust me with their greatest treasures over 35+ years of coaching, supporting the team’s efforts with such positivism and joy ... and, of course, with their financial sacrifices.

Blessed to benefit from so many gifted, dedicated, focused, enthusiastic, and determined young people for willingly accepting my guidance and input, applying it with such skill and poise.

Blessed to have coached with some giants who allowed me to stand on their shoulders, accepting me and all of my quirks, sharing their expertise, and bolstering my passion with theirs.

As I am sure any of the members of the Hall in this Builder Category can attest, enshrinement is a singular recognition of a team award, or more appropriately, teams. No coach can be successful without athletes and families willing to embrace his/her teachings and recommendations, no championships or accolades earned without the singular, unified mindset of the many.

I accept this honour with a humbled heart on behalf of what I estimate to be thousands of athletes.

Being a Barrie Boy through and through, I have been attended a number of these Hall of Fame ceremonies for athletes or teams I've worked with, vicariously celebrating their recognition as they shone the spot light on our beloved city's sporting successes, daring to dream if that could be me at some time in the future. For the Hall to acknowledge that my career’s good fortunate was worthy of special attention makes my heart swell with pride, and for that there are no words of thanks that will suffice.

To everyone in the Barrie Sports Hall of Fame that played a part in this, not the least of which is the artist, Sheila Romard, who’s talent created the picture behind that curtain, you all have my sincerest thanks for making an old coach’s dream come true.

To my fellow 2024 inductees Dan Mariouelli, Emily MacTavish, and duo Mitchel Islam & Alexandra Paul, if you've come away with the same feelings as I surrounding this incredible recognition, you'll most certainly have spent the day after taking stock of your blessings, a profound sense of humility flooding your soul. You all spoke along similar themes in your acceptance of your induction, and as I hung on your every word, a flood of warmth filled me from the toes up as I realized how blessed and fortunate we all were and are to have Barrie to thank for helping make our lives spectacular.

I can't say enough about the volunteers that comprise the committee that guardians the Hall. Your efforts, energy, and time are remarkable, generous, and appreciated. In fact, I am so moved by the entire process, I publicly  profess that I will offer my own energies to the committee that others will be gifted this experience in the future. 

Would any of you Barrie Boys or Girls care to join me? I can't think of a more worthy endeavour!