1. The Ottawa Sun n Monday, October 15, 201210 NEWS
Editor’s Note: It’s been a
year since beloved Ottawa Sun
columnist Earl McRae died.
His daughter Caitie offers this
touching tribute to her dad.
The Broadway hit musical
Rent opens with the ensemble
cast singing a powerful ballad
called Seasons of Love, which
ponders how to measure a
year in a person’s life.
But how do you measure a
year in the moments of loss?
Is it the amount of times you
reach for the phone to make a
call, only to catch yourself?
The number of times you
found old Christmas gift bags
with his writing on it? Is it the
amount of times you’ve sat out
on the back patio and glanced
over longingly at his empty
chair? Or the number of times
you’ve worn his old ratty dress
shirts to bed?
Autumn had always been
my favourite season for many
reasons, but I’ve never been
able to quite put my finger
on why. Of course, the cliche
characteristics of autumn —
leaves rustling along the side-
walk, the aroma of apple pie
wafting out of the oven — cer-
tainly played a part, but for me,
it was the sense of new begin-
nings that inspired me during
this time of the year; a feeling
that I was about to embark on
something new and foreign.
When my boyfriend phoned
methenightofOct.15,2011,to
inform me my father had sud-
denly passed away, I remem-
ber gazing out of a taxi cab in
Montreal, buildings across
the street hardly discernible
through sheets of doleful rain,
my phone pressed up against
my ear, but not listening any-
more.
In just a few words, I felt
sentenced to autumn’s per-
dition, nostalgic feelings
expunged.
Funny how powerful words
can be. Especially if you regard
them the same way a master
carpenter does his tools. They
are there to build and create,
to alter and repair, to make
something out of nothing.
And in the ensuing days
of my father’s death, his col-
leagues and fans introduced
me and my family to a side of
him we rarely interacted with.
Through anecdotes and mus-
ings, ponderings and retell-
ings, we came to truly appre-
ciate that my father was the
same way with words a car-
penter was with his tools.
I always say he was born to
be a father, but damn, was he
ever a great writer and some-
times, those two roles crossed
paths. At my 6th grade grad-
uating ceremony, I didn’t
win an award that every-
one believed I was a front-
runner for. I was devastated.
I was never the kid to receive
accolades or acknowledge-
ments of any kind and when I
was passed over for an award
I felt I truly deserved, I went
home sobbing. Little did I
realize that my father had left
the ceremony a few minutes
prior to me, and waiting on
my bed when I got home was
a letter. Amongst the fatherly,
affectionate prose were a few
important words:
“Awards are nice, but one
does not need an award to
know and prove one is special
and accomplished. The award
itself isn’t the accomplishment
— the accomplishment is. Life
isn’t always fair, but it still
doesn’t take away from who
you are as a person, or what
you achieved. Remember: the
accomplishment is far greater
than the award.”
Ironically, it was writings
like that, words infused with
genuine sensitivity, his fin-
ger on the pulse of the people,
that allowed my dad to fill his
office wall with more awards
than I can count. To him, and
to everyone who knew him,
they didn’t just represent his
wizardry with words; they
were the physical manifesta-
tion of his ability to mix can-
dour with sincere empathy.
My father was a person
whose interest lay not in the
story, but in the people behind
the story. He felt a duty, a
responsibility, to lift words off
the pages of a newspaper and
give them life; give them real
meaning.
In the year that has passed
since his death, I can now
measure his impact. He leaves
behind a realization. An awak-
ening. The truth that journal-
ism — writing — is to carry a
voice for those too small or dis-
counted for; to turn attention
to those needing it; to discover
humanity and fragility in situa-
tions tarnished by the deprav-
ity of human nature.
He reminds us that being
a good journalist is a privi-
lege, not a right; an honour,
not an entitlement; and a self-
less talent that is bred within
the stitching of one’s soul, not
taught within the confines of a
classroom. It is to be used for
good, not reckless ignorance,
the end goal being the better-
ment of society, the furthering
of human progress, the apha-
sic now having a voice.
And all you need is integ-
rity, and a pen, to do it.
REMEMBERING EARL McRAE
JESSICA BEDDAOUI
Ottawa Sun
Sometimes Earl McRae could be
counted on to wear a reasonably
decent tie.
One of those times was on the
occasion of the annual Blacktie
Beanfest fundraiser, which, like
most Elvis Sighting Society events,
he helped create.
This will be the first year
his fellow Elvis admirers and
fundraisers are faced with the
prospect of forging ahead without
him. The best way to do that, they
figure, is to do it in his honour.
“It’s been really hard,” said Elvis
Sighting Society vice-president
Randi Hansen.“We miss him.”
McRae was a huge Elvis fan — in
1989 he helped found the Elvis
Sighting Society so fans of the
King could meet and share stories
about sightings. Eventually, the
Elvis Sighting Society started
focusing on charitable endeavours.
Founding members decided
they wanted to create a black tie
event that was “a little tongue
in cheek,” said Hansen.“People
come dressed in black tie from the
waist up, but then they wear jeans,
poodle skirts, sneakers.”
This year proceeds will go to
Citizen Advocacy, an organization
dedicated to helping people with
disabilities, and the Children’s
Village of Ottawa-Carleton, which
provides funding for children who
can’t afford to go to summer camp.
The Elvis Sighting Society has
decided to give Sun readers a
preview of the speech president
Kurt Stoodley has prepared to
honour McRae.
“He loved life in all of its forms
— the good, the bad and the ugly.
Defined by his outstanding writing
and sometimes twisted sense of
humour, he was an old-fashioned
newshound,” reads an excerpt.
The 21st annual Blacktie
Beanfest takes place Oct. 27 at the
Ron Kolbus Lakeside Centre. To
order tickets call 613-440-3882 or
e-mail randi.gcg@rogers.com.
jessica.beddaoui@sunmedia.ca
Twitter: @JessicaBeddaoui
DAD’SWAYWITHWORDSLegendary columnist most concerned with people behind the story, his daughter writes
BlacktieBeanfest
tipshattoMcRae