Jack Layton is receiving virtually royal treatment in death.
His body has being lying in state in the Centre block Parliament building in Ottawa. Tens of thousands of people have come to pay their respects, waiting in line for hours to do so. His wife, Olivia Chow, also a Member of Parliament, has been there, with their children and granddaughter. (She took a quiet detour to visit his parliamentary office while on the Hill.)
This afternoon, his body will be taken to Quebec. That is the province where he was born (son of a former federal Conservative cabinet minister) and where his party made its "breakthrough," making it the Official Opposition in the Commons.
From there, it will go this evening to Toronto. The city is his home; he served on its City Council for many years before moving to federal politics. His body will lie in state at Toronto's City Hall, until just before the state funeral, which will be held in the Roy Thompson Hall, Saturday at 2:00 p.m. Eastern time. I believe it will be televised.
Jack Layton was a much beloved man. I always thought there was something so very different about him. He was not your average politician. He really loved people; he really cared, deeply about people. When he was on Toronto City Council, he often rode a bike around the city, so he could easily stop and talk to people. Yes, he was concerned about the environment, but people, and their lives, seemed his key interest. He is someone who will be hugely missed on the national scene.
Canadians were largely shocked and saddened to learn this morning that Jack Layton had died. Layton, the Leader of Canada's social democratic party (called the" New Democratic Party," or NDP) was 61. He died of cancer, after a long and effective career as one of Canada's elected leaders.
The Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (one of Canada's national television and radio networks) had a story early this morning, which has been circulating across the country and around the world.
Layton left behind a Letter of Thanks to Canadians, which was released later this morning.
(For those of you not familiar with the British/Canadian parliamentary system, our Parliament is the same as the US Congress, Our House of Commons is like the US House or Representatives, and Layton (as Leader of Her Majesty's Loyal Opposition in the Commons) would be like the Minority Leader in the US House of Representatives.
For me, Layton's death is on a par with the deaths of the Kennedy brothers, John and Bobby. Also the death of Lady Diana Spencer (ex-wife of Prince Charles). The Spirit of Canada is smaller today because Jack Layton has died
Here is a video recording of Layton at his finest, here in "River City." Truly, a man of the people.
An informal gathering will be held here in a few days. That had already been arranged by mid morning. Timing of the gathering will, I suspect, depend a bit on when Layton's funeral is held.
Outside Layton's constituency (as in "district") office in an older residential area of Toronto, a bouquet of flowers is growing by the hours. On the sidewalk, written in chalk, a simple, "Thanks, Jack."
Friend and fellow journalist Jim Taylor has an interesting and challenging piece on remembering of the use of the first thermonuclear weapon. That, of course, was at Hiroshima, Japan, on August 6, 1945. His comments can be found on his blog, amongst other places.
For me, two points were of particular interest.
1. Once you let the genie — any genie — out of the bottle, it's very tough to get it back in.
2. Hiroshima legitimizes international terrorism, by primarily targeting civilians.
It is not a horrific read, but neither is it comfortable.
I encourage you to take some time to consider it.
IN FLANDERS FIELDS
In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918), Canadian Army.
McCrae died of pneumonia on January 28, 1918, while still commanding No. 3 Canadian General Hospital in France. That may have been the same hospital at which my uncle died the previous spring, a victim of wounds suffered in the Canadian offensive at Vimy Ridge.
√
There is an ancient Chinese saying (and this one is apparently legitimate) to the effect that, "The man who finishes his house, dies."
At this rate, I'll live forever.
There are some people, however, who are not doing so well. Some have succumbed to the A/H1N1 'Flu. For more information, you can check the latest report from the World Health Organization (WHO).
As I mentiond earlier, I was going to "paw" in the garden for a while this morning -- a normal spring time thing to do.
One of the first things I discovered outside was a dead Robin, close to our 24 hour self-serve food and water bird restaurant. I checked it out -- I was pretty sure it was Mrs. Robin. There were no signs that it had hit our building; there were no signs that it had been attacked by a cat or something like that. I set her beside the little St. Francis statue in our yard, only a foot or so from where I found her. I went and checked the nest. There was nobody on it -- but inside there were three beautiful little eggs -- all "Robin's egg blue." I estimate they are about a week from hatching, given the past activities of the mother.
I talked to several people people at our University's Veterinary College (where they do quite bit of work with birds). We decided that I should bring Mrs. Robin in for an autopsy, to make sure that it wasn't some bird disease that had killed her. We don't want any more strange infections floating around. I'll eventually get a report on her death. As for the eggs, there was nothing they could do.
We had some other things to do, but came back in the late afternoon. We checked in the back yard, and there was another Robin - sitting on the fence, looking up at the nest. It finally flew up to the nest. It didn't get on the nest -- it just stood there --looking at the eggs and looking around, and around, and then back at the eggs. I was pretty sure it was Mr. Robin. I had to do something on the other side of the yard, and when I got to the far end, he rose up as if to challenge me, thought he never said a thing, and I don't go over. Eventually he left.
Meanwhile, at the other end of the garden, the Nuthatches are carrying on, as usual, apparently unaware of the tragedy at the other end of the Maternity Ward.
P.S.: I just got a brief phone report from the pathology lab. There are signs of an infection in her, but it not the kind of thing which should have killed her. There were a few extra questions for me about the circumstances under which I found her. I'll get a fuller report when the pathologists are finished doing their work.
While I was on the phone, Mr. Robin came back and checked everything again very thoroughly, before leaving again.
--------
I wonder how birds mourn and grieve.
