Choices:
Henry, as we all do, had choices to make in his life. He was always creative, imaginative. And showed enough artistic promise to have been offered admission to the Ontario College of Art and Design, after high school. He declined, telling me years later that he had not wanted to risk becoming a starving artist.
Henry was also quite the beast on the football field. Years later when I went to Henry’s old high school and played on the football team as well, one of the coaches said, ‘If you’re half as good as your brother, you’ll be okay.” Henry was offered a football scholarship at St Francis Xavier University in Antigonish, Nova Scotia and could have played for the X-Men, but he declined this, too. He didn’t wish to be away from home.
It took a while, but Henry eventually enrolled at George Brown College to begin his training to become a chef. He had finally found his calling, an outlet for his creativity in preparing fine foods. He was deeply interested in his field, working hard, reading, learning from others how to improve his skills. He had a good sense of organization and became very proficient at food costing, ordering, preparing menus. He had high standards for the food that was prepared and how one did their job.
His career was almost cut short, or at the least, got off to a rough start because of the standards he set and his penchant for speaking his mind. One of his favourite sayings was that he did not suffer fools gladly. (Whenever he said this, I subconsciously pulled at my collar, thankful that I was his brother – this relationship cut me a great deal of slack.) As an apprentice, his first placement was at the Art Gallery of Ontario. Apparently, there was a waiter who spent too much time chatting with customers, was too slow picking up, and was a bit too full of himself. Henry finally gave this person a piece of his mind and chased him out to the service area. The manager was ready to fire Henry, but Chef Philip came to Henry’s defense and he was given another opportunity. Henry came to learn a great deal from Philip and always had very kind words about him.
Henry had a long, varied career as a chef. He took pride in his field and his accomplishments, earning the respect of others. And a reputation – from his music in the kitchen, to his wit and, at times, sharp tongue. From what he described to me and what I saw, it was a hard way to earn a living– the long hours, stress, job uncertainty and so forth. Yet he told me he had no regrets becoming a chef. I am sure he felt good about what he accomplished, that he had found his place. But there was more than this. Over the years he had worked with some wonderful people and had made enduring friendships. This became very apparent to me, especially over these last number of weeks, when I have heard and read the concerns, well-wishes, encouragement and, finally, the condolences from his friends and former colleagues. I thank all of you for having given Henry so much over all the years.
Alex
