The member for Timiskaming–Cochrane.

Speaker, if you seek it, you will find unanimous consent to allow members to make statements in remembrance of the late Mr. Douglas Jack Wiseman, with five minutes allotted to His Majesty’s loyal opposition, five minutes allotted to the independent members as a group, and five minutes allotted to His Majesty’s government.

The member for Haldimand–Norfolk.

Today we are honoured to remember and pay tribute to a former member of our provincial Legislature, the late Mr. Douglas Jack Wiseman, who was the MPP for Lanark during the 29th, 30th, 31st, 32nd and 33rd Parliaments and for Lanark–Renfrew during the 34th Parliament. Mr. Wiseman’s family is watching the tribute from home this afternoon.

The member for Timiskaming–Cochrane.

I appreciate the opportunity to rise today to pay tribute to Gord Miller, who came to Queen’s Park in 1975 as a member of the Liberal caucus. Gord is a political legend in Haldimand–Norfolk.

Again, I’d like to recognize and welcome Gord’s family to Queen’s Park: his son, Doug, along with his wife, Flora; grandsons, Jamie and Geoff; granddaughter Meghan and her husband, David; as well as their children, Brynn and Mason.

My predecessor, Toby Barrett, knew Gord well, and I have heard many stories in local political circles. Gord was known to give Toby a hard time over his opposition to wind turbines. However, the two agreed on at least one subject—a subject the member from Oxford alluded to. The people of Haldimand–Norfolk had never warmed to the idea of regional government. Gord knew this well as a municipal councillor. So in 1975, he ran provincially on the platform to scrap it, and he was successful. Gord would go on to serve as the MPP for Haldimand–Norfolk for 15 years, until 1990. While the scrapping of regional government did not happen during his term, Toby picked up the torch, and in 2001, the new Haldimand and Norfolk counties were reinstated.

I spoke with my good friend Dennis Craddock last week. Dennis became the provincial Liberal association CFO when Gord decided to run—a job Dennis still performs. He told me, “He was a giant of a man whose iron fist in a velvet glove dictated his life.”

Gord lived his entire life committed to community service and could often be found in an arena—in his early days as a player, in later years passing along his passion for the game to players as a coach.

A farmer by trade, Gord was a distinguished politician, a down-to-earth, down-home guy who easily related to those in the community.

Despite humble beginnings, Gord shared what he could give and began volunteering at a very young age, flooding the ice in the 1940s for local hockey players, an elder at the Jarvis Presbyterian church and a 75-year member of the Lodge.

Doug often wondered how the man he looked up to found time to do all he wished while still being a husband, father and eventually grandfather and great-grandfather. Gord always told his four boys—Doug, Barry, Glen and Alan—that his commitment to the community never seemed like work, but rather, it was fun.

I am told he always gave credit to the women in his life, who supported him and picked up any slack at home while he was away. Reta Johnson was Gord’s first love and mom to the four boys. Sadly, Reta passed away in 1973.

In 1976, Gord married Shirley Christmas, who was instrumental in helping Gord deliver scrolls and attending dinners with him.

Former MPP Jack Riddell and his wife, Anita, were two of Gord’s very best friends. They shared many committee trips while here at Queen’s Park, but their friendship extended well beyond the political calling.

I’m told Gord worked here at Queen’s Park and in our beautiful riding as hard as he did in his fields. I’d say that’s good rural Ontario stock.

As a lover of trees and the forest, Gord, well into his nineties, could be found piling wood on the property. He said it kept him young.

Last year, on February 23, Gord passed away at his Jarvis-area farm, where he first came into this world. He was three days shy of his 97th birthday.

Speaker, Haldimand–Norfolk is a better place because of the work Gord Miller accomplished and laid before us. In the community of Jarvis and beyond, his absence is felt as strongly as locals long felt his presence.

It’s an honour to stand here today on behalf of our Ontario Liberal caucus to pay tribute to Mr. Gordon Irvin Miller, Liberal MPP for the riding of Norfolk from 1975 to 1990. And we all heard that right: 1975 to 1990, a Liberal MPP in Norfolk. That in itself probably says a lot about Gord Miller.

Now, I obviously never had a chance to meet Mr. Miller, but you get to know people by going through articles and talking to other people. I know that he was raised by his family in Jarvis, Ontario, and he and his brothers, Bruce and Bob, took over the farm from their father. Fittingly, as we said earlier, that farm is on the road that’s named after him, the Gordon Miller Trail.

He started his political career as a school board trustee in 1960, and he was a trustee from 1960 to 1967, followed by many years in municipal politics—town councillor from 1978 to 1981, reeve from 1971 to 1973, regional councillor from 1973 to 1975, and deputy mayor of the city of Nanticoke in 1975.

As if that wasn’t enough, when the residents of Haldimand–Norfolk weren’t happy about the two-tiered government that was pushed on to them by the Conservative government of the day, Mr. Miller decided to run in the 1975 provincial election to have his constituents’ voices heard at Queen’s Park. He went on to win by over 2,000 votes over incumbent MPP Jim Allan, who had held the riding for 23 years. He was re-elected in 1977, 1981, 1985 and 1987, and served as the parliamentary assistant to the Minister of Transportation.

From what I gather, he cared deeply about his community. He was a community builder. He was someone who wanted—and we’ve heard it here today—to make his community better, and the work was fun. That’s a good sign.

As the Hamilton Spectator puts it, Gord was “the quintessential good neighbour.” What a nice legacy.

Mr. Miller was named the 1990 Jarvis Citizen of the Year.

Again, as if all those other things weren’t enough, he was a Sunday school superintendent, member of the Haldimand–Norfolk United Way, advocate for Crime Stoppers and chair of the West Haldimand General Hospital Foundation. It was a life full of service that I won’t say is unmatched, but it’s up there, near the top of the kind of service that we’ve spoken about in this community, with some members here who have passed away.

Aside from being a politician, he was a big-time sports fan, a coach, a player, interested in baseball and hockey.

I think it’s really important, when someone serves 30 years in public service—and the family is here today—to thank the family for allowing their father and grandfather to serve his community. We all know that in that kind of service, it takes you away from the things that you—where you want to be, who you want to be with, sometimes. It’s a big sacrifice. It’s a big sacrifice for us as members, but it’s an even bigger sacrifice for our families,

So to his son Doug; daughter-in-law Flora; grandsons Jamie, Geoff and David; granddaughter Meghan; great-grandchildren Brynn and Mason, thank you.

And on behalf of the Ontario Liberal caucus, I want to thank Mr. Miller for dedicating his life to public service. Thank you.

Applause.

The member for Kingston and the Islands.

I rise today to pay tribute to the former member for Lanark, Douglas Wiseman.

Doug is survived by his beloved wife, Bernice, whom he married in 1951, his three children, Clifford, Karen and Robert, his three grandchildren and his two great-grandchildren. He is also remembered by his siblings, Dave, Walter, and Colleen.

I know that his son Robert, daughter-in-law Julie and grandson Austin are watching from home, and I want them to know how honoured I am to say something about Douglas today.

Born in 1930 in Smiths Falls, Ontario, as the son of a farmer, Doug enjoyed the allure of small-town Ontario. Before beginning his career in politics, he made a living as a farmer, developing a prominent cow-calf business at Chaloa Acres in Perth. His dedication to the community was evident in his work on the Perth public school board for 12 years and as chairman of the Perth retail business association for three years.

In 1971, Doug was elected MPP for the constituency of Lanark, where he remained until 1990. During his time in office, Doug held the titles of assistant to the Minister of Health, Minister without Portfolio, and Minister of Government Services.

Doug was an admirable member of Parliament who never feared speaking up against his own government, always putting the people of Ontario first.

His popularity amongst the people did not go unnoticed: A news story from 1984 detailed an appreciation dinner for Doug selling out in just a few hours, leaving even some of his fellow MPPs without tickets.

In 1990, he said he was motivated to step aside because he wanted a younger, newer face to represent the newly expanded riding of Lanark–Renfrew. After stepping down, he was able to spend more time with his family and continue to pursue his shoe store and real estate businesses. Though the decision was difficult, it allowed him to return to his roots and spend his retirement from politics doing his favourite things: being with his family at the cottage or working on his farm.

Doug Wiseman passed away on August 1, 2020, at the age of 91. On behalf of all of my Liberal caucus colleagues, I wish to say that he will be missed. May he rest in peace.

It’s an honour to be able to rise today and pay tribute to Douglas Jack Wiseman on behalf of the official opposition. He passed away on August 1, 2020, in his 91st year. As I was doing the research for Mr. Wiseman—I never had the opportunity to meet him, but I very much enjoyed doing the research. He had a long career of public service—but one stuck out to me that I didn’t think anyone else was going to talk about, and I think I would like to, in honour of him, talk about something that obviously he loved. He was, for a period, the chair of the eastern Ontario Charolais association, and in the 1960s and 1970s he bred many prize-winning Charolais cattle.

Just a brief history of Charolais cattle: They’re a beef breed that actually were introduced into Canada in 1959 and were recognized as an official breed in 1960 in Canada. So to be a breeder of prize-winning Charolais in the 1960s and 1970s—that was groundbreaking.

Not everybody here is going to know what a Charolais cow looks like. If you’re driving down a country road and you see a beautiful herd of almost-white, tan beef cattle, likely those are Charolais, and many other beef cattle have been influenced, because Charolais bulls were often used in British beef breeds to put—for lack of a better word—more meat on them. If you think that politics is partisan, you should get into a meeting talking about whether Charolais, Herefords or Angus are the best breed. I am sure that Mr. Doug Wiseman was heavily involved in that, being a part of the Charolais association.

But to be there that early is incredible, and prize-winning bulls and prize-winning cattle at that time—it’s still a really tough business, but now there’s DNA testing, genomics. But back then, it was a true art to be able to raise a prize-winning show animal which would later develop the whole breed. That’s something that was really important to him, and I think it’s something that should be mentioned in this House.

In his career in the Legislature from 1971 to 1990, one of his many roles—he was Minister of Government Services, and he, according to media reports, identified some issues in his ministry for which he lost his portfolio. He identified issues that needed to be identified—and, not trying to be partisan, but sometimes the biggest fights, regardless of party, are within the party. He identified them and lost his portfolio and kept identifying issues that needed to be corrected. That’s something that should be also recognized. Coming from a farm—farmers aren’t the only honest people, but farmers are pretty honest. I think that should be recognized, too—for what he did.

When he retired, he sold shoes—and that became a chain of shoe stores. He did that, and his own community recognized the quality of person he was.

He had a long career in many levels of politics and spent many of his years here.

He made a great contribution to agriculture. I don’t think you can do much more with your life than that in 90 years.

I would like to thank his family for sharing him, not only with the province, but with the agricultural sector—sharing his talents with the rest of us. It was a life well lived. Thank you.

I have the privilege today of paying tribute to Lily Oddie Munro, a cabinet minister in the David Peterson government whose political journey began in my hometown of Hamilton back in the mid-1980s.

Lily Munro was first elected MPP for the riding of Hamilton Centre in 1985 after losing a by-election the year before by the slimmest of margins—just 64 votes. She was appointed Ontario’s Minister of Citizenship and Culture, the only woman in cabinet at that time. Two years later, following the Liberal landslide of 1987, she became Minister of Culture and Communications. She was an energetic, self-confessed workaholic who embraced cultural issues.

Lily Munro’s career certainly did not begin on a political path. After graduating from Delta Secondary School in Hamilton, she went to work as a secretary at Stelco steel. Munro remained at Stelco for 13 years. She then decided that she wanted to improve her formal education. She was driven and determined. At the age of 32, Lily Munro enrolled at university and earned not just one degree but three degrees, including a doctorate in educational philosophy. Following graduation, Dr. Munro worked as a psychologist. She became the director of the Centre for Continuing Education at McMaster University.

Lily Oddie became more engaged in politics when she began working for federal MP John Munro, a man whom she later married. John Munro once described his wife as a “tough fighter and a hard fighter.”

As Minister of Culture, she was a fierce proponent of funding for the arts and culture. She fought for funding to restore the Elgin and Winter Garden theatres because she desperately wanted to provide year-round employment for seasonal theatre staff. She weathered the storm around accusations of conflict of interest in the Patti Starr affair and brushed aside daily calls from the opposition to resign. Her staff called her “Tiger Lily.”

Lily Munro had deep roots in Hamilton. She immigrated to Canada from Britain with her family after the war. She served on various boards and committees in Hamilton that promoted the well-being of women, children and the disabled.

Lily Munro has been described as being shy and reserved, but those who knew her well say otherwise. She was spontaneous, energetic and warm.

At 80 pounds, she was a black belt in karate. I’m told that in an east-end Hamilton karate club, she once broke another woman’s ribs.

At the age of 60, Munro decided she wanted to ride a motorcycle. After getting her licence, she went on rides with friends to the United States. She gave up the bike at the age of 70, at the insistence of her son.

She was a woman with no reservations about getting up on stage in costume for roles in theatre.

Another time, the culture minister graced the front page of a Toronto newspaper dressed as a character from the musical Cats.

When the Hamilton Tiger-Cats won the CFL Eastern final in 1985, Munro led this House in an Oskee Wee Wee chant. In fact, Lily Munro was a staunch Steeltown cheerleader who raised Hamilton’s profile at Queen’s Park.

Decades after her high school graduation, Lily Munro was inducted into the Delta high school Wall of Excellence.

Lily Munro embraced life. She lived a long and full life. She passed away at the age of 83.

I want to thank her son, John, and grandson, Finn, for sharing their mother and grandmother with us. She was a woman who had Hamilton’s best interest at heart, and we are a better community because of her work.

We give thanks for the life and public service of Douglas Jack Wiseman.

Today we are honoured to remember and pay tribute to a former member of our provincial Legislature, the late Ms. Lily Oddie Munro, the MPP for Hamilton Centre during the 33rd and 34th Parliaments.

Joining us in the Speaker’s gallery today are Ms. Munro’s family and friends: her son, John Oddie; her former daughter-in-law, Mara Fabrizio; her grandson, Finn Munro; her cousin Lynn Larson; and her friends Robert and Doug. Welcome to Queen’s Park.

I recognize the member for Flamborough–Glanbrook.

It is my honour to stand today to acknowledge the life and legacy of the late doctor, psychologist and MPP Lily Oddie, formerly Lily Munro, who served as the Liberal MPP for Hamilton Centre from May 2, 1985, to September 5, 1990, and who also served her community and Ontario on multiple legislative committees and as Minister of Culture and Communications and, later, Minister of Citizenship and Culture during her tenure.

I want to thank her family and loved ones here today in the Legislature: her son, John; her former daughter-in-law, Mara; her grandson, Finn; and Lynn, a wonderful cousin; her friends Robert and Doug; and, of course, Mr. David Warner, the former Speaker of the Legislative Assembly of Ontario. Thank you to the family and loved ones of Dr. Munro for sharing her so generously and selflessly with the people of Hamilton Centre, with Ontario. This isn’t an easy job. It’s not easy work, and it’s often thankless. So thank you for sharing her with us.

While I didn’t have the pleasure of knowing MPP Oddie Munro personally, it has been quite rewarding of an experience getting to know her through the archive. It is clear to me that she was an incredibly strong woman and, even through political trials and tribulations, she proved herself as exactly what her former husband, MP John Munro, once described her as: “a tough fighter and a hard fighter.”

It’s like the great Eleanor Roosevelt once said, “A woman is like a tea bag—you can’t tell how strong she is until you put her in a little hot water.” I know a thing or two about having to be a strong woman in the face of adversaries and adversities, and it is clear to me that Lily, who at one point served as the only woman in cabinet, had grit. Because she and many other women MPPs were here, we continue to see more women exploring careers in politics, running in politics, not as afraid to hold their own and speak their truth.

MPP Oddie Munro was a newcomer in politics. Her very place in this building was a break from tradition, something she very much embraced. She was described as warm, spontaneous and compassionate. She reportedly dressed up on Halloween and, on her lunch break, would bop to the music in the park across the street. Her presence here was humanizing—a word not associated, frankly, with politicians, not then and not even now. She served with care.

She also had an eye on equity and the need to confront the exclusionary and often oppressive social structures that left certain groups of Ontarians behind. As the Minister for Citizenship and Culture, MPP Oddie Munro made it a top priority to “meaningfully enfranchise minorities who feel excluded from the power structure,” as reporter Marilyn Linton once noted. For her, “meaningfully” was the key word. This meant engaging with marginalized communities directly to find out what enfranchisement looked like for them, rather than making assumptions.

MPP Oddie Munro made it her mission to “unleash the talent that has been overlooked around this province for the past 43 years by an old boys’ network,” as reporter Joe Serge noted in a Toronto Star article back in 1985.

Here in Ontario today, with only 39% of women elected to this Legislature, we still have a long way to go. But make no mistake, MPP Lily Oddie Munro placed cracks in that glass ceiling, and us women here continue to do so.

She was also a committed advocate for culture and arts, working each day to prove that the sector is more than the fluff the old boy’s network made it out to be, or just a “frill,” as former Conservative Premier Mike Harris referred to it in future years. In her own words, “Culture is more than dancing, singing and 25th anniversaries. It is philosophy and values. If we put culture at the bottom of our list of priorities, it’s to our detriment in the end.”

In fact, Lily appeared as a cast member in the dress rehearsal of the Guys and Dolls show at the Lighthouse Festival Theatre in Port Dover, and she was also photographed dressed as a cast member of Cats, which was showing in Toronto at the time at the Elgin and Winter Garden Theatre Centre—for which she advocated its full restoration.

It was this all-encompassing outlook towards arts and culture and her pioneering mind that helped amplify and uplift arts and culture into the economic powerhouse it is today. Her vision for Ontario’s film industry helped place our province on the map as a competitive hub for production. She was largely responsible for ensuring an arm’s-length relationship between arts organization, such as the OAC, and the government, which we know is fundamental to arts autonomy across Ontario.

Her work in protecting Ontario’s heritage continues to be felt across the province, including in my own community of St. Paul’s, home of the Maclean House, which was saved from demolition thanks to a strengthened Ontario Heritage Act under Minister Munro, at that time.

Her dedication to her community and a better world in Hamilton and beyond continued long after she left politics in 1990, through her career in social work and education, which included her work at St. Catharines YWCA and serving on the Immigration and Refugee Board.

Upon leaving Queen’s Park, she told the Spectator that, “All of us go into politics knowing we have to be tough.”

While this remains true, Lily Oddie’s legacy gives us a new definition of what it meant to be tough. Tough is also compassionate, it’s warm, it’s refreshing. It’s donning a tutu, dancing to Willie Nelson across the street.

MPP Lily Oddie Munro is a woman who had a black belt in karate and who, at 60 years of age, according to her son John, learned to ride a motorcycle. She loved to travel with her friends to the US, she loved life and she loved working hard for her community. What a life, I say. What a life.

Thank you for this opportunity to honour her today, and thank you once again to her family for sharing her with Ontario and Hamilton Centre.

Mr. Speaker, if you seek it, you will find unanimous consent to allow members to make statements in remembrance of the late Ms. Lily Oddie Munro, with five minutes allotted to His Majesty’s government, five minutes allotted to His Majesty’s loyal opposition, and five minutes allotted to the independent members as a group.

The member for Beaches–East York.

I am honoured to be here today paying tribute to the Late Lily Oddie Munro and I’m thrilled that her family and friends are here in the chamber to hear all the beautiful accolades.

Lily served as the MPP for Hamilton Centre and firstly as the Minister of Citizenship and Culture, then was renamed as the Minister of Culture and Communications. At the time, under a Liberal government, she was the only woman sitting in cabinet. Lily was a champion for arts and culture in Ontario and saw the arts not as idle luxuries but as significant contributors to the economy. Arts matter.

Lily was born in Lancastershire, England, on September 27, 1931. She moved to Hamilton with her mother in 1942, where she graduated from Delta Secondary School before working at Stelco. She got her start in politics working for John Munro in Ottawa and went on to obtain degrees from Dalhousie University and Athabasca University, including a PhD in psychology. She worked as a psychologist and later as the director of the McMaster University School of Adult Education.

After an already robust career, Lily made the bold decision to run for office in 1984 in a by-election and went on to be elected in 1985. During her time as an MPP and minister, Lily worked hard to strengthen local organizations and projects, and diversity within the Ontario Legislature. She said, “We are a province proud of its multicultural identity, and I want that reflected in the backrooms and boardrooms of Ontario.”

I am happy to see the strides we’ve made towards a more diverse House since Lily served, but we still have much further ahead to go. I hope we can continue to diversify the voices that sit and speak in this chamber. Every person in Ontario should see themselves represented in this room.

Lily Oddie was a trailblazer for women in politics. At one point, she sat as the only woman minister in Ontario, and was rather outspoken about how she was perceived in this position. Her staff even referred to her as “Mr. Minister,” a dig at her impressive place in the boys’ club. As the wife of a prominent politician, she had to work hard to be remembered for more than just her husband’s name. She felt she couldn’t beat the system, so she joined it, changing the province from the inside out. Her legacy will continue through all the women elected to this legislature. I’m proud to stand here, knowing the sacrifices Lily and the other women who came before me have made so that we always have a place at the table.

As the Minister of Culture and Citizenship and, later, Culture and Communications, Lily had a unique perspective on arts and culture and was outspoken about an often-overlooked sector of government. In her words—and as the MPP for Toronto–St. Paul’s has mentioned—“Culture is more than dancing, singing and 25th anniversaries. It’s philosophy and values, and if we put culture at the bottom of our list of priorities, it’s to” the detriment of our world. That can’t be said enough. I echo this statement, as critic for culture, and appreciate the importance of these areas that she highlighted throughout her career.

Today and every day, we can remember Lily as a strong, resilient leader who brought a lot of needed attention to arts and culture in Ontario. I’m inspired by her hard work and advocacy and so strongly respect the work she did during her service as an MPP and minister. She sounds like a real character, so I feel her spirit lives on in here and will live on. May she continue to rest in peace.

We give thanks for the life and public service of Lily Oddie Munro.

Today we are honoured to remember and pay tribute to the former member of our provincial Legislature, the late Mr. Richard Patten, who was the MPP for Ottawa Centre during the 34th, 36th, 37th and 38th Parliaments.

Joining us in the Speaker’s gallery are Mr. Patten’s friends Barbara Jordan and her husband, Allan Morrison. Mr. Patten’s family is watching this tribute from home this afternoon.

I recognize the member for Nepean.

Speaker, if you seek it, you will find unanimous consent to allow members to make statements in remembrance for the late Mr. Richard Patten, with five minutes allotted to His Majesty’s government, five minutes allotted to His Majesty’s loyal opposition, and five minutes allotted to the independent members as a group.

This is my first speech back since the election, and I want to say it’s a truly an honour to be able to represent Nepean again, inside the city of Ottawa, but also to be here with all of my colleagues.

This is a very important tribute for me to give because this was very a close friend of mine and somebody who needed no introduction to anybody in our nation’s capital. That’s why I’m pleased to provide the tribute today for Richard Patten—a great friend, a great leader and, to me, he was a great mentor.

Speaker, I know that there are many people here today in this assembly that are listening to this tribute, and I think it’s the finest moments we have as members of this Legislature to offer our tributes to those who have passed, but also to learn about them and their contributions rather than just being here in the day-to-day where we sometimes get a bit frustrated with one another. And trust me, from time to time, I saw a little bit of frustration in my dear friend Richard Patten as we served together in 2006 and 2007.

I know, also, there are a number of people from back home that are watching this tribute today. That includes his loving wife and community leader in her own right, Penny Patten. It also includes his former campaign manager, a great friend of mine, Isabel Metcalfe, and the candidate he roundly defeated, in 2003, for the Conservative Party, my husband, Joe Varner. And Joe, I’ll pay for that when I get home.

But I have to say, I know many of the members here—and I do hope that they read his biography and they talk a little bit about his time in cabinet. But I want to talk about the man that I knew and the lessons that I learned. Because Richard spent a lot of his life working for charities and not-for-profits and really trying to lift our city up. He did that through the Royal Ottawa hospital. He did that at CHEO as the foundation president. He did that throughout his life through the YMCA, and when I was Minister of Heritage, Sport, Tourism and Culture Industries, he served on the Shaw Centre.

But he was more than a politician. He was a gracious gentleman, and he taught me five things. I think these five things are a lesson for all members of this assembly, regardless of where you come from, regardless if you are a brand new member of provincial Parliament or, like me and Ernie, been stuck here with the furniture.

He was a humble person. He offered great humility. When we ran the campaign in 2003 against him—well, not really against him, but for a vision—every single day, Richard Patten and my husband cemented a friendship. And I lament that Richard, before he passed, had to see the polarization in politics today, because Richard Patten didn’t have a partisan bone in his body. He had the community bone, and it was because of that humility that I think of him, and I think of him fondly. I actually started, in recent years, passing my own types of judgment on how to best represent my constituents, as well as this Legislature.

He also taught me—and I will steal this because Minister Mulroney is here, a line from her father: Dance with the ones that brung ya. You might think it’s about politics and back-slapping, but no, no, no, not with Richard Patten. And I know today we’re going to be also giving a tribute to our former Premier, Bill Davis—Brampton Bill. Well, one thing about Richard Patten is that every single day he stood in this Legislature, you knew the people of Ottawa Centre, the people of Ottawa, sent him to this place—and Speaker, you’re nodding because you served with him. You knew he cared more about our city than the crap that we sometimes have to deal with in politics. That is a tremendous lesson for me and it’s one that I’ve tried to follow and emulate.

He taught me that we need to make friends, both in politics and outside of politics. And he displayed that because of the friendship that he provided me. When I arrived here in 2006, three short years after he defeated my husband in a race in Ottawa Centre as the Nepean–Carleton MPP, he became my friend and he mentored me. In fact—and this may shock a lot of people, and I mentioned this to his former campaign manager Isabel Metcalfe today—when he left politics, he actually became a donor to me; a significant contributor. He always lifted me up. But he also proved that, just after politics seems to end things—and he had defeats in his life; he was defeated. He always knew that he could count on friends after politics. Speaker, I’m not going to mention my recent months, but I can tell you there were a number of people who made sure that, in this business, their friendship to me came before politics. And that says a lot about politicians, in my opinion.

I think the other thing that he taught us was to be sympathetic toward this institution and understand that as much as we are ever evolving in this institution, there are things, historic traditions that we should respect. And I remember him sitting right here, because back in the day—he had been a former minister—they kept former ministers like this guy here from Oxford down there, and it contributed to a great debate. I know I’m a little bit over time, but this needs to be said, because when I get to speak—I actually got to serve with some legends. I actually got to serve with Peter Kormos, one of the funniest people in the Legislature, and you know that too, Speaker. And the two of them one night—I was 30 years old, I had a brand new baby, Victoria, who had just been born, and I was sitting way over there where Joel Harden is. I was sitting where the current member for Ottawa Centre is, myself and Christine Elliott. And the two of them were bickering back and forth, and I thought, “I have made it. I have made it to the floor of the assembly where the real stuff happens.” And then, of course, I was sadly disappointed to learn that that really doesn’t—nothing happens down there. It happens in other places. But he respected this institution, and I can tell you, when he left it, he didn’t put the lights out. He advocated for change, more autonomy for the private member. And I think he’d be pleased to see that this Legislature in the previous incarnation of Parliament adopted more measures for private members.

Finally, I want to say this, because you should all understand this: I have had the privilege of serving for 17 years. He had the privilege of serving for 20. “MPP” is a really nice title. It goes right—say your name, “MPP.” But Richard Patten taught us that you do not need a title to serve your community. You can just get up and see a problem and fix it. I’m glad that he earned his right to be here through successive votes to this assembly. He was a man of great strength and character. He battled cancer.

I have a lot of funny stories that I don’t have time to tell, but I will say this: Richard Patten left this place a gentleman, and he left this earth a gentleman, but just like the others we’ve learned about today, they are our teachers. They are teachers that remind us that there’s life after politics, and they are teachers that remind us that when we’re here, there is an ability for us to be gracious to one another.

I want to thank you, Speaker, for this opportunity.

And to Penny, I’m so sorry that we’ve lost Richard, but I know he is resting in peace—actually, he’s resting in power.

It’s an honour to rise today as the member for Ottawa Centre, remembering the life of Richard Patten. Friends who are present here, friends who are watching this from home—I agree with the member from Nepean. This was a giant figure in our community. I regret to say I never knew him very well personally—

He was someone whose presence certainly lives on—serving as MPP for Ottawa Centre from 1987 to 1990, serving again from 1995 to 2007.

I could, as the member from Nepean did—and I will just list it briefly for the record—talk about the fact that this is the politician who helped save the Aberdeen Pavilion from the wrecking ball. If you ever get the chance to see it at Lansdowne Market, look at it; it’s a beautiful structure.

This is the politician who helped drive the fundraising structure by being the president of the CHEO Foundation for our children’s hospital, which, as current CEO Alex Munter tells me, has made an enormous difference today.

But when I think about Richard Patten—as the member for Ottawa Centre previous to me, Yasir Naqvi, told me recently—I think about this gentleman as a citizen of the world. What does it mean to be a citizen of the world? Well, Oxfam, a charity with which many of us are familiar, calls a citizen of the world “someone who is aware of and understands the wider world—and their place in it.” As a citizen of the world, “they take an active role in their community and work with others to make our planet”—not just their city, their province or their country—a “more peaceful, sustainable and fairer” place. Why do I think about that with the life of Richard Patten? With what I was inspired to read based upon some leads that luckily were furnished to me by a family member, Sheila Laursen, who worked for the Montreal YMCA and whose friends Scott Haldane, Sol Kasimer and Bill Pigott worked with Richard Patten, I think about someone who was an accomplished athlete, who spent an entire summer in the late 1970s teaching physical health and education to Palestinian refugees in Syria, in Lebanon, in Jordan and in Gaza, and after that experience went on to continue to talk about the plight of the Palestinian people. It is difficult to talk about that plight today. Politicians are afraid sometimes to talk about the suffering of the Palestinian people, who live in open-air prisons, who suffer some of the most egregious human rights abuses every single day. It is dangerous to do that now, but Richard Patten did this in the late 1980s. And he went on to live in Guyana for two years and talk about the suffering of the Guyanese people.

He worked in friendship with Indigenous communities across this country, not through a charity model or a pity model, but a respect model, nation to nation, thinking about how he, through his dense connections, could use the platform of a politician or the platform of a major community organization like the Children’s Hospital of Eastern Ontario to pay it forward and to help others who are fighting hard to make ends meet.

Why do we become a global citizen? I think people decide to become a global citizen in politics because they look beyond their city, their riding, their province, their country, and they see the world for what it is: a world in which eight people—eight people—today collectively own as much as the poorest half of the whole world, 3.5 billion people; a world in which the poorest billion on this planet account for 1% of global consumption but the richest billion account for 72% of global consumption.

Article 13 of the United Nations charter of human rights says that everyone has the right to leave their country. But what we know is that 3% of people around the world actually live outside of their country of origin, and we have spent decades putting up borders and obstacles to stop people from enriching other societies with their talents.

Thankfully, it is part of the Canadian story that we have tried to create a place that is welcoming, that says to people from around the world, “Come here, build your dream here, help us make a better place here.” I would like to think that the inspiration for that ideal comes from the Indigenous peoples who shepherded and walked over this land for generations, who themselves were welcoming.

That’s what I think of when I think of a giant like Richard Patten—someone who was a global citizen, someone who worked hard for his city, and someone who said that it’s not enough to work for your riding and we have to use the resources and the skills we have to make our world a better place.

Thank you so much to friends who are here and to friends watching for all of your work and for lending Richard to us.

He would have loved you.