A Tribute to POP!

A Tribute sent with Love, respect and gratitude.

Dear Bill,

Words will never be enough to express the profound impact you had on my life and the paths I chose. The English language lacks the strength to fully capture my gratitude—the kindness and guidance you showed me, and the deep love I have for you and Helen.

I never truly knew my birth father—he chose to keep me out of his life. But as I reflect on my journey, I realize how incredibly blessed I was to have met you. For over forty years, you were more than a mentor, more than a friend—you were a father to me in every way that mattered.

I cherish the Christmases your family shared with me, the laughter we had picking NFL winners, and the fun of “Warren the Greek” making his bold predictions. Though I wasn’t born into your family, you always treated me as if I were. That sense of belonging gave me hope, grounding, and support as I navigated life’s challenges.

I was always amazed by your family’s generosity and shared values. The kindness you and Helen showed to so many lost teenagers and young adults was only matched by your generosity. I often wondered what went through your mind when you discovered bodies sleeping on your sofas, your floor, and crowding your one bathroom.

My wife and children were equally blessed to know you. We all marvelled at your wit, humour, and deep knowledge of local history and politics. When we learned of your passing, each of us grieved the loss of someone so dear—yet we also thanked God for the precious time we had with you. Processing this loss has been difficult, but it has also brought back so many cherished memories.

One of my proudest moments dates back to the 1980s, during the Solidarity Marches in Vancouver. I may have taken things a little far by mounting myself onto a politician’s bumper—but when a photo of it appeared in a local paper, I overheard you telling a colleague, with unmistakable pride, "He lives in my house." You had a gift for being supportive without being pushy, for making your point without ever being harsh. Your quiet strength and unwavering kindness shaped me in ways I will always carry with me.

Bill, I hope you don’t mind, but there’s something I’ve held back for nearly forty years. I only ever knew one time that your lovely wife, Helen, was truly angry with you. One morning, I happened to be up early when Helen told me to sit at her breakfast table. You looked at me and, in a low voice, said you were in trouble. Moments later, Helen appeared with a plate of food—setting it in front of me before leaving the room. It was the only time I was ever served breakfast. Many know this part of the story, but not the final detail. As soon as she left, I looked around to make sure the coast was clear—then quietly handed you some toast. At that moment, we made a silent agreement: until you had left this earth, I would never tell this part of the story. Now, I keep my promise and share this memory with a warm glow.

Some of the best parts of me were nurtured, encouraged, and given a chance to grow because of you and Helen. I owe so much to both of you and will strive to always be my best.

I was truly blessed by you, Helen, and your family. Simply saying thank you feels inadequate, but I say it nonetheless, with all my heart. I am forever grateful.

You were a strong believer in workers’ rights. In sharing the wealth of our great nation with all Canadians and never being afraid to share your political beliefs with others while never infringing on the rights of others to having different views in politics and faith,

Many called you Father, Salty, Mr. R____, but to me you are forever Pop! My children generally also referred to you are Pop as well.

Rest now PoP, dear and noble soul.

Your bed maybe empty, but you are forever in our hearts.

With love and gratitude,

Warren