It’s an honour for me to give tribute today to Doug Wiseman. I grew up in Lanark county, so Doug Wiseman was a household name and a highly respected MPP in my area.

MPP Doug Wiseman considered a handshake a precious commodity, its value determined by the reputation that preceded it. Suffice it to say, Doug Wiseman spent a good measure of time shaking hands and garnering the trust of the people he represented in the riding then known as Lanark and later as Lanark–Renfrew.

A farmer and small business man born, raised and educated in Lanark county, Doug served as chairman of the Perth retail business association and as member and chairman of the Perth public school board.

When elected to the Ontario Legislature as MPP for Lanark in 1971, Doug Wiseman was hailed by his constituents as a hard worker with a thoughtful, compassionate regard for the people and the land he called home; a man of boundless curiosity who, despite his quiet demeanour, stepped up to the plate when challenged by conflict and controversy. When MPP Wiseman went to bat for the concerns and needs of his constituency, he was in for the full nine innings and as much time as it would take. This drive and passion to serve his constituents continued throughout his political career, from the 29th to the 33rd Parliaments of Ontario.

MPP Doug Wiseman knew how to work with all levels of government. Some of his accomplishments included grants to Carleton Place and the village of Lanark under the Ontario Neighbourhood Improvement Program. A member of the justice and management board committees, Chairman of both the small business committee and the regulations committee, he also left his mark as a member of the Board of Internal Economy.

In November 1975, he was appointed parliamentary assistant to the Minister of Health, and he served as Minister of Government Services until 1983.

In 2012, he was awarded the Queen’s Jubilee Medal.

Doug Wiseman’s genuine love of life informed his ability to engage in constructive debate and productive conversation with colleagues and constituents of every stripe. Good friend and campaign manager Ron Stronski remarked that Doug was as much at home ferreting out kitchen table stories in Lanark county farms and village homes as he was representing his riding at Queen’s Park. Ron was telling me that when they were on the campaign trail in Lanark Highlands and Ron would be driving Doug’s Buick—as big as a boat, he recalled—and the instructions that Doug gave him were, “Just keep driving until I say stop.” Doug said, “Stop.” He got out of the car and went around to the trunk, opened the trunk up and got his rubber boots out and took off across the field to speak to a farmer. When he came back, he said to Ron, “That was a worthwhile conversation.”

Doug loved rural people, he loved rural Lanark, and he loved being the MPP in our area.

One of my other constituents recalls, as a little boy, meeting then-Minister Doug Wiseman. Doug had time to speak to the boy. “Unassuming, soft-spoken, just a plain nice person” is his recollection of meeting Doug Wiseman.

He excelled not only on the political front, but on the home front. He was the beloved husband of Bernice “Bunny” Wiseman, a brilliant, forthright companion and accomplished nurse who co-managed a host of entrepreneurial endeavours, including a privately owned hospital and a successful chain of shoe stores, Wiseman’s Shoes.

Together with their children, Clifford, Karen and Robert, the Wisemans nurtured a thriving family farm, renowned for prize-winning Charolais cattle. Named Chaloa Acres, the Wiseman farm was and is a well-known landmark in Lanark county. It was here and at the family cottage on Bass Lake that time was well spent and greatly cherished.

Doug Wiseman passed away on August 1, 2020. His wife, Bunny, passed away two years later, in April of this year. They are both greatly missed in my home community of Lanark county.

If character, compassion and good grace are the mark of true wisdom, then it can be said that MPP Doug Wiseman lived up to his name.

Applause.

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.

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.

The member for Ottawa Centre.

It’s an honour to stand today, on behalf of the Ontario Liberal caucus, to say a few words of tribute for our friend and our colleague Richard Patten, the MPP for Ottawa Centre from 1989 to 1990, re-elected in 1995, again in 1999 and again in 2003. He served as a minister in the Peterson government, and in opposition he was the critic for education, which was one of his passions.

The essence of Richard Patten was community building. He was always searching for a way to build his community up—and as we’ll hear a little later, his community was much larger than just Ottawa Centre, which was dear to his heart.

As the member from Ottawa Centre just said, he helped save Ottawa’s Aberdeen Pavilion from the wrecking ball, which is really, I would say, a nice unnamed monument to his efforts as a public servant. It’s still there today. It houses a farmers’ market. It’s a beautiful building. If you’re ever in Ottawa Centre and don’t make it to Ottawa South, make sure you go by the Aberdeen Pavilion.

He was also part of the team that helped save CHEO’s cardiac unit. At the time, in 2002, the government of the day wanted to close down the Children’s Hospital of Eastern Ontario’s cardiac surgery unit. He was part of the team that helped save that.

I know he was very proud of that accomplishment, but not as proud as he was of a piece of legislation that he worked hard to pass here in this assembly: Brian’s Law. It was in honour of sportscaster Brian Smith, who was shot and killed in 1995 by a man who desperately needed treatment. That law, after it passed, led to early assessment of people in danger of hurting themselves or others and also led to the thing we know as community orders. That was an important improvement in the management of mental health in our communities. It took a long time to get this bill through, but it showed Richard’s drive to try to make the lives of others better.

As I said earlier, Richard’s world, his community, wasn’t just Ottawa Centre—and as we heard the member from Ottawa Centre say, it did extend past.

This was Richard as a young man—he worked at summer day camps for the YMCA and later on in different branches of the Y when he was at Sir George Williams University.

One summer semester, he worked with Palestinian youth in refugee camps in Syria, Lebanon, Jordan and Gaza under the auspices of UNRA and the World Alliance of YMCAs.

After he graduated from Sir George with a bachelor of arts, with a major in history and the philosophy of religion and a certificate in applied social science, he became the YMCA director in Montreal.

In 1969, he accepted a two-year posting to Georgetown, Guyana, as a trainer consultant to the Guyanese national council of YMCAs. His mission was to manage a process of reorienting the organization and to train staff across the newly independent nation.

In 1971, Richard became the director of international programs for the Montreal YMCA. With the expelling of Asians from Uganda, Richard negotiated an arrangement with the federal government to work with YMCAs and the voluntary sector across Canada to provide support for thousands of Ismailis in language, training, culture and job readiness, and to provide clothing and shelter.

In 1975, after all of this, Richard moved to Ottawa and became the director of international programs for the Canadian National Council of YMCAs. From there, he negotiated with CIDA and received funding to establish international development projects throughout the world in a three-way partnership between the recipient nation, supported by a branch of Canadian YMCA and CIDA.

I worked with Richard. I never had the pleasure of sitting in this Legislature with him. I knew him for about 30 years and worked with him for about 15 of those.

I wanted to reach out to my predecessor in this seat, Premier Dalton McGuinty, the former member for Ottawa South, because he spent a lot of time with Richard. Here’s what he had to say:

Richard’s commitment to public service, to making the world a better place by helping others, shone through everything he did as an MPP and in his years before and after. He cared—a lot. He found joy in service, especially in helping those who couldn’t help themselves. Ontario, and especially Ottawa, are better places because of Richard’s kindness and commitment to his fellow human beings.

I know his wife, Penny, is at home listening, and I want to say to Penny—well, first off, I didn’t meet Richard first; I met Penny. I was in another life. I was managing a store that was in their neighbourhood. We got to talking, as can happen sometimes with me. She knew our daughter was having a diet-related challenge, and she lent me a book. This is about 40 years ago. She was very kind. She said, “You should read this.” Penny, I want to say I’m sorry that I never got that book back to you. I still remember it, and I still have the feeling that I owe you something. Actually, we all owe you something. You shared Richard with this assembly, with Ottawa Centre, with this province, with the world, and that was a lot to ask of you. It’s not easy to be a partner, a spouse, of a political person, and I want to thank you, on behalf of everyone here and everyone Richard helped, for being that strong and supportive partner you were.

Applause.

Mr. Speaker, if you seek it, you will find unanimous consent to allow members to make statements in remembrance of the late Mr. Julian Alexander Arnott Reed, 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.

It is an honour and privilege to speak in this House today to honour the late Julian Reed, member of provincial Parliament, on behalf of the government and the people of Ontario.

Let me begin by welcoming his family and friends who are joining us today: his daughter, Melanie Reed; his son-in-law, Jeff Doupe; his grandchildren Shannon and Weston; and his cousin Linda Mcgregor.

It’s always a sad occasion when we rise to honour a former member of this House, but it does give us the opportunity to speak about their service to their constituents, their community and our province. We can reflect on the work they did in this House and in their community and talk a little bit about the character and personality of the individual.

Julian Alexander Arnott Reed passed away on January 6 of this year, at the age of 85. Former Premier David Peterson remembered him with fondness, saying, “He was a delight ... with a wonderful sense of the community. He loved to tell stories. He loved to talk. He was full of fun and love.” This was reinforced when I spoke to long-time Milton mayor Gord Krantz, who was re-elected for his 14th term last night, about Julian Reed. They worked closely, attending community events with their spouses, and Mayor Krantz remembers him as playing the banjo and as a jovial entertainer. He said Julian was known as a showman and a good singer.

Julian Reed served in this Legislature for the riding of Halton–Burlington from 1975 to 1985, being re-elected in 1977 and 1981. He retired from public life in 1985 but obviously decided he hadn’t had enough of politics, as he then was elected and served as the member of Parliament for Halton–Peel and then Halton, from 1993 to 2004.

The Reeds were an old family in Halton county and Halton region, with roots going back to the 19th century. Julian Reed was born in 1936 and grew up near Norval, east of Georgetown, on a farm that had been in the family most of the time since 1868. He had worked as an actor, seed salesman and pig farmer before getting involved in politics. I’m not sure which of these roles would have been a better preparation for a political career.

In 1968, he got his big break in show business when an agent saw him in a production of South Pacific. This led to work in a variety show and commercials. Mayor Krantz remembers him doing a Vicks cough drops commercial.

The political bug struck him when he got involved to save Norval Public School from being closed. He had met the Minister of Education and asked him if the only way to save the school was to run for office. The minister shrugged and said yes, and so Julian Reed ran for the Legislature.

He had a strong interest in alternative sources of energy—a man truly ahead of his time. He built a small power-generating station on the Credit River, by his family’s farm, in the 1970s, and another later, near Peterborough, connected to Ontario Hydro’s grid. In this Legislature, he spoke out on Ontario Hydro, biotechnology, energy efficiency and many other energy topics. He shared his great knowledge with the members of this House during the late 1970s and early 1980s in the energy crisis. When he went to Ottawa as a member of Parliament, he helped secure funding for an ethanol plant in Chatham and $11.9 million for biodiesel, both approved in the same budget. His passion for alternative energy was almost lethal one day, as he took a bottle of new diesel made of canola oil and 12% methanol to a lunch with Prime Minister Jean Chrétien. The Prime Minister could smell the canola and took a drink from the bottle with the poisonous methanol. Julian Reed then took a drink himself, figuring, “If he was going out, I was going out too.” Thankfully, no by-elections were needed that day.

When one reads about Julian and what his colleagues thought of him, it is obvious he was greatly respected and loved—respected because of his commitment to the causes he believed in, including alternative energy, and because of the knowledge and skills he offered on these causes.

He was a great contributor to public life and public service, but he also knew how to enjoy himself and how to make others happy, especially his family.

He is missed by his family, many of whom are here today, and by his many friends, both in the Liberal Party and in the community he served.

We give thanks for the life and public service of Richard Patten.

Today, we are honoured to remember and pay tribute to a former member of our provincial Legislature, the late Mr. Julian Alexander Arnott Reed, who was the MPP for Halton–Burlington during the 30th, 31st and 32nd Parliaments.

Joining us in the Speaker’s gallery are Mr. Reed’s family: his daughter, Melanie Reed; his son-in-law, Jeff Doupe; his grandchildren Shannon Doupe and Weston Doupe; and his cousin Linda Mcgregor.

I recognize the member for Oakville North–Burlington.

I am honoured to rise in memory of Julian Alexander Arnott Reed, a man of epic proportion. He made a habit of saying yes to life, and in doing so he lived a remarkable one.

He grew up on a farm near Norval that had been in his family since 1868. His early connection to farming, natural resources and renewable energy would shape the trajectory of his political career. However, Mr. Reed did not start out as a politician. After graduating from the University of Guelph with an associate degree in agriculture, Mr. Reed worked as a seed salesman and a pig farmer. But during this time, the stage would call to him, and he would answer yes.

Throughout his life, Mr. Reed poured his talent and passion into musical theatre. He dazzled audiences on stage with his acting and vocals, growing his knowledge of Ontario communities throughout the many regions in which he performed. One night, during a performance of South Pacific in Scarborough, Mr. Reed was discovered by a gentleman in the crowd. As the story goes, a man from the industry told him to stick with him for a few days, and he would break him into showbiz for real. All he needed was $200 for a new suit, $5 for a haircut, and to trust him. Once again, he said yes.

Soon, Mr. Reed was appearing on TV and in movies, in commercials and musical theatre. Mr. Reed was now in the big leagues. That seemed to be a pattern in his life: When he dedicated himself to something, he rose to the top.

Soon, Julian would dedicate himself to preventing the closure of his hometown public school in Norval. He met with the then education minister, who informed him that his only true recourse would be at the ballot box, so Julian said yes to that too. In 1975, Julian Alexander Arnott Reed was elected as the Liberal member of provincial Parliament, representing the riding of Halton–Burlington. There, he skillfully served for 10 years, gaining the love and respect of his colleagues. He served as critic for natural resources, energy, and consumer and commercial relations.

After an eight-year hiatus, Julian ran federally and became the Liberal member of Parliament for Halton–Peel and Halton between 1993 and 2004. He served in the Jean Chrétien and Paul Martin administrations, and as parliamentary secretary to the Minister for International Trade from 1997 to 1998 and to the Minister of Foreign Affairs from 1998 to 1999.

I would be remiss if I did not recount a story that we’ve already begun to hear about the time that he attended a lunch at Prime Minister Chrétien’s home. Mr. Reed had become so excited about a new type of diesel fuel that he carried a sample in his briefcase to show off to everyone. Prime Minister Chrétien, seeing that Reed was carrying a briefcase, told him that this was not a working lunch. He said that he should loosen up. Mr. Reed apologized but explained that he wanted to show him something and proceeded to pull the bottle of diesel fuel out of his briefcase and give it to the Prime Minister. As the story goes, Prime Minister Chrétien took a swig, and Reed’s heart stopped. Mr. Reed weighed his options and then he took a drink too, figuring that if the Prime Minister was going down, they should go down together. Perhaps being an MPP and MP were the parts of a lifetime.

There was one part Mr. Reed returned to three times: Tevye, the lead in Fiddler on the Roof. It makes sense. Tevye and Mr. Reed were community leaders full of warmth and humour, committed to their values, and both possessed a great sense of responsibility and duty to those around them.

Most people are lucky to find one calling in life, but Julian found at least two in his. Mr. Reed is remembered as a warm, highly accomplished man with an unparalleled zest for life. We are honoured to have his family here with us today. Melanie, Jeff, Shannon, Weston and Linda, thank you.

It’s an honour to rise on behalf of the official opposition and pay tribute to the life and contributions of Julian Reed.

Shortly after the death of Julian Reed earlier this year, former Premier David Peterson shared these words: “He was a delight ... he was full of fun and love....You just could not help but like him.”

Farmer, actor, activist, environmental advocate, MPP and MP—throughout all the speeches that were given here today, there’s a theme that is coming out: Farmers have had a large contribution towards the advancement of this province.

You don’t have to dig deep to discover that Julian Reed was a man that made the most of the opportunities that came his way. Even in a place like this, where there is no shortage of compelling personalities, Julian’s backstory is a delightful blend of the conventional and the extraordinary that draws our attention. From the beginning, Julian’s identity revolved around performing and farming—in fact, his listed occupation on the House of Commons website was “actor-farmer”—and rural Ontario always remained close to his heart.

During his 10 years at Queen’s Park, he also became a respected voice on the environment, drawing attention to the dangers of PCBs and the unchecked increase of fossil fuel use, while advocating for energy conservation.

In 1985, Julian took a break from political life to revisit his interests in acting and farming and pursue a new career in renewable energy, only to return to elected life as the MP for Halton in 1993 as part of the Chrétien sweep.

Here, his passions would continue to guide him, burnishing his reputation among fellow MPPs as “a valued colleague who championed environmental, rural and small-town issues.”

But as I read more about Julian, it became clear that he didn’t simply stand out because of his skills. His true talent was his ability to combine his passion, experience and gifts in a way that left an indelible impression on those around him. In the recollections and tributes that followed his passing, nearly every story was punctuated by the way he touched people’s lives just by being true to himself.

In account after account, Julian’s growth and success stem from a capacity to evoke feeling in others—from the patron who launched his show business career following a moving performance, the communities that rallied around him to send him to Queen’s Park and Parliament Hill to ensure they were heard, and the colleagues that fondly remember him as a cherished mentor and friend. His ability to make people feel welcomed—accompanied by an infectious smile, sense of humour and tireless work effort—forged relationships that extended far beyond his political life.

As we acknowledge Julian, it is also important to celebrate his loved ones—both those here in person and those watching from home—and thank them for sharing him with the people of Ontario and Canada. The families of elected officials often shoulder the burden of elected office without sharing the privileges of public service. When Julian left Queen’s Park in 1985, he made it clear that his success would not have been possible without you, and we wholeheartedly echo that sentiment. We hope that our appreciation of your father’s service brings you some comfort in what has been a challenging year as you said goodbye to both mom and dad.

I dug out one of his last speeches that he made as the member for Halton on May 12, 2004, and I want to read it to you. He said, “Mr. Speaker, since this occasion may be the last time I rise in this place, it would be appropriate to point out that our tenure here is the result of the enduring support of many: our constituents, who vote; our loyal party workers, who keep the dream of democracy alive; our loyal staff, who have made it all work so well; and most of all, our families.

“I would like to express my appreciation to my bride of 44 years, Deanna, and our three grown children, Christopher, Robert and Melanie.

“To Deanna who regularly endured the loneliness of an absentee husband and who often filled in when I could not be in two places at once, to our three children who often endured political commentary, some of it unsavoury and uncalled for, I thank them all for giving me 10 productive and satisfying years of service to Canada.” Speaker, I think Julian had his priorities right, and I don’t think mom is lonely any more. They’re together.

In closing, the great poet and author Maya Angelou famously said, “At the end of the day, people won’t remember what you said or did, but how you made them feel.” Julian Reed’s legacy is a powerful reminder that success is not measured on accolades achieved, but lives touched.

Thank you, Julian, for your service to your community, province and country. Thank you to the family for sharing him. Rest well, Julian.