GROMYKO
GROSNEY
GROSSMAN
GROSSO
GROTHIER
GROTTOLI
GROVER
GROMYKO o@ca.on.york_county.toronto.globe_and_mail 2003-11-26 published
A scholar and a gentle man
'Fine example of a great Canadian' who founded Ontario's Brock
University was once private secretary to prime minister Mackenzie
KING
By Ron CSILLAG,
Special to The Globe and Mail Wednesday, November
26, 2003 - Page R9
In an almost Zen-like fashion, James
GIBSON knew the value of
not acting. In the late 1960s, when a group of student radicals
seized part of Brock University, hoping to be dragged away kicking
and screaming, Dr.
GIBSON, who had helped found the institution
a few years earlier, reacted in a way no other university president
did when faced with the same problem: He did nothing. The protesters,
he reasoned, may have had legitimate grievances, but their unseemly
actions offended his firm sense of propriety. In time, the students
simply went away.
It was an effective, though uncharacteristic, action for a man
who embodied Brock's Latin motto: "Surgite," freely translated
as "push on." That he did, through some 65 rich years of advancing
higher education and in public service, most notably as a private
secretary to former prime minister Mackenzie
KING, whose penchant
for soothsaying and assorted eccentricities Dr.
GIBSON kept mainly
to himself until later in life.
Just five days before his death in Ottawa on October 23 at the
age of 91, Dr.
GIBSON was doing what he loved: Watching a new
group of graduates receive their diplomas at the fall convocation
of Brock University in St. Catharines, Ontario, the school he
had launched as founding president in 1963.
At a recent memorial service at Brock, David
ATKINSON, the university's
president and vice-chancellor, recalled a man whose attributes
a strong moral fibre, clarity of thought and a general uprightness,
all tempered by a warm and gentle touch -- harkened to a quaint,
bygone era. "It's unlikely we will meet anyone like him again,"
Dr. ATKINSON said.
In the House of Commons on October 27, Dr.
GIBSON was praised
by St. Catharines Liberal member of parliament Walt
LASTEWKA
as "a fine example of a great Canadian."
Dr. GIBSON, whose knowledge of Canadian history and government
were legend, was in the news this past summer as the oldest of
over 1,000 Rhodes Scholars who flew to England for a five-day
bash honouring the centenary of the trust. With his brother William,
also a Rhodes Scholar, Dr.
GIBSON dedicated a re-leaded stained-glass
window at the chapel of Oxford's New College.
A normally discreet man, he had sharp words for former prime
minister Brian
MULRONEY, not an Oxford graduate, who surprised
guests at the alumni dinner -- and raised a few eyebrows -- when
he took a seat on the podium alongside Oxonians Bill
CLINTON
and Tony BLAIR, and guest Nelson
MANDELA.
Many alumni, Dr.
GIBSON
included, felt that Mr.
MULRONEY, who had been invited by The
Independent newspaper chain, had no business being there. Though
upset, Dr.
GIBSON retained his dignity, saying simply, "I was
offended."
James Alexander
GIBSON was born in Ottawa, in 1912, to Canadian-born
parents of Irish-Scottish stock with strong Methodist and Quaker
leanings. Raised in Victoria, he graduated with a B.A. in history
from the University of British Columbia at age 18. Less than
a year later, he was one of the youngest boys at Oxford.
"That was the real dividing line in my life," he told The Globe
and Mail last July. "The economic depression was beginning to
take over and some of the graduates in my year at University
of British Columbia ended up digging ditches, but I had a guaranteed
income for three years."
The annual stipend was only £400 but it enabled Dr.
GIBSON to
live comfortably and travel to the rest of Europe when he wasn't
studying modern history, debating in the Oxford Union Society
and keeping wicket for the New College cricket squad, the Nomads.
Back in Ottawa and armed with a doctorate in history, he joined
the Department of External Affairs. On his second day on the
job, he was whisked to the prime minister's office for a six-month
secondment that lasted nine years. Mr.
KING, who was also External
Affairs minister, blocked Dr.
GIBSON's promotions to postings
abroad three times because "he told me I stopped him getting
into trouble."
The prime minister was a notorious taskmaster, calling on his
assistant to work most evenings and weekends to draft letters
and speeches. Throughout, "Dad never complained about anything,"
said his daughter Julia
MATTHEWS. "
But as he got older, he loosened
up a little."
According to his daughter, he came to describe the famously erratic
leader as "a very grumpy man and a very lonely man, insensitive,
and quite damaging to work for."
Ultimately, it occurred to the clan that perhaps the unmarried
prime minister was simply jealous of Dr.
GIBSON's status as a
beloved family man and father of three children. "Whenever we
went on a family holiday, Dad always got called back," remembered
Ms. MATTHEWS.
But a high point came in the spring of 1945, when Dr.
GIBSON
accompanied Mr.
KING and 380 other delegates to San Francisco
and the founding of the United Nations. During the historic two-month
conference, Dr.
GIBSON got personal glimpses of such leaders
as the Soviet Union's Andrei
GROMYKO and Britain's Anthony
EDEN,
but the task at hand, he later recalled, was to keep the Canadian
prime minister "on the rails."
Fearing he would never advance in the public service, Dr.
GIBSON
resigned in 1947 and took a teaching post at Ottawa's Carleton
University, where he later served as the first dean of arts and
science and deputy to the president. By the early 1960s, he was
courted by a group of community leaders in the Niagara peninsula
to establish Brock University. When he began as founding president,
the school had seven faculty (known as "the magnificent seven"),
29 students and a "library" consisting of a shelf of books. Today,
it boasts more than 15,000 students and 47,000 alumni.
His first order of business at Brock was the creation of a library.
Now housed in the campus's Schmon Tower, it has become something
of a landmark on the Niagara Escarpment. Dr.
GIBSON, fondly known
by faculty as "James A.," remained as Brock's president until
1974. He was named to the Order of Canada in 1992, and the library
was named after him in 1996.
He was also a leading figure in the Unitarian faith, serving
for a time as chaplain of the Unitarian Congregation of Niagara.
Asked what dinner-table conversation was like at home, Ms.
MATTHEWS
sighed good-naturedly. "Oh, God. There was a lot of current events.
He had all the answers. He was always lecturing, but he could
be really charming." Even after his vision started to fail, he
travelled, read and wrote. "He never felt old."
After moving from his beloved St. Catharines to an Ottawa retirement
home, Dr. GIBSON lectured residents on "governors-general I have
known."
Dr. GIBSON was predeceased by his wife of 57 years, Caroline
(née STEIN,) and leaves three children, seven grandchildren,
two great-grandchildren, his brother, and a sister, Isobel
SEARLS.
His final days were summed up poetically by Josephine
MEEKER,
a former professor at Brock. After attending the university's
convocation last month, Dr.
GIBSON "went for a long walk, returned
to his residence, went into the lounge area, took off his coat
and folded it up, put it on the back of his chair, sat down,
folded his hands in his lap, closed his eyes, and died."
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GROSNEY o@ca.on.york_county.toronto.globe_and_mail 2003-05-22 published
Trumpeter ran jazz club
By Mark MILLER
Thursday,
May 22, 2003 - Page R7
Toronto -- He was the voice of doom.
Every so often, out of the blue, he would call.
"Mark," he barked loudly into the telephone. "Paul Grosney,"
he continued, his voice dropping on the third syllable. "We've
lost another one."
And now we've lost Paul
GROSNEY.
The
Toronto trumpet player who
kept the local community informed of deaths in the world of jazz
has himself passed away. He died Saturday in his sleep at his
Toronto home. He was 80.
An amiably gruff man with the proverbial heart of gold, Mr.
GROSNEY
liked to be in the know. As a teenager in his native Winnipeg,
he would make the acquaintance of the American musicians who
passed through town -- members of vibraphonist Red Norvo's band,
for example, which played a fortnight at the Odd Fellows Hall.
"In those two weeks," Mr.
GROSNEY remembered in 1994, "I got
to know those guys very well. I got them up in the morning and
put them to bed at night."
Mr. GROSNEY, who was born on February 10, 1924, spent some time
in Toronto and New York after travelling overseas with an Royal
Canadian Air Force variety show during the Second World War.
Later, he served as the bandleader in several Winnipeg nightclubs,
notably the Rancho Don Carlos, where he played for many important
American entertainers.
In 1959, he returned to Toronto and continued his career in hotel,
theatre and studio orchestras. He also ran a booking agency and
acted as music director from 1973 to 1984 for the now-legendary
jazz club Bourbon Street, where he matched visiting American
stars with local rhythm sections.
In later years, Mr.
GROSNEY led his own jazz group, the Kansas
City Local, and was a featured soloist with other Dixieland and
Swing orchestras. His recordings include the 1998 Compact Disk
I'm Just Wild About Harry, a tribute to the American trumpeter
Harry James.
Mr. GROSNEY's connections extended beyond music to show business
more generally. He enjoyed a second career writing sketch material
for Canadian and U.S. television variety shows, including The
Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour and Bizarre.
He leaves his son Michael and sister Jeanette
BLOCK.
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GROSSMAN o@ca.on.york_county.toronto.globe_and_mail 2003-03-06 published
The day the music didn't die
Beloved Toronto trumpeter credited with helping preserve a unique
form of New Orleans jazz
By Sarah LAMBERT
Thursday,
March 6, 2003 - Page R9
Toronto -- The tightly knit world of New Orleans traditional
jazz has lost one of its greats with the death, last month, of
Cliff (Kid)
BASTIEN, leader of Toronto's treasured Happy Pals.
The trumpeter is credited as having nothing less than single-handedly
kept alive the unique, raw, New Orleans style of jazz, through
his leadership and mentorship of hundreds of musicians.
Saddened fans and musicians filed into the city's Grossman's
Tavern all week last month to pay tribute to Mr.
BASTIEN at the
long-time home of the Happy Pals, where the walls are lined with
photos of his fans and musicians. It was a send-off worthy of
New
Orleans, birthplace of the kind of jazz Mr.
BASTIEN played
with his seven-piece bands, the Camelia Jazz Band and later the
Happy Pals, during the 30 or so years he played at the Toronto
landmark.
"He was never late. Never, never ever, said Christine
LOUIE,
whose family inherited Mr.
BASTIEN's
Saturday-afternoon gig when
Al GROSSMAN sold the bar in 1975.
So it was with sinking hearts on February 8 that his loyal audience
and band members watched the minute hand tick past 4 o'clock,
waiting for him to arrive, brass trumpet in hand.
When he was found later that afternoon still sitting in his armchair,
apparently looking up a new song in his hymn book, the Happy
Pals played on and raised a glass in tribute to their leader
who died as he lived, surrounded by music. He was 65 years old.
Noonie SHEARS, a long-time friend and leader of the traditional
impromptu parade that would inevitably snake through Grossman's
as Saturday afternoon wound down, said she thought Mr.
BASTIEN
was looking up I'll Fly Away, the old gospel song recently dusted
off in the movie O Brother, Where Art Thou?
The band played it for the first time at Mr.
BASTIEN's official
memorial at Grossman's the Saturday following his death.
Born in 1937 in London's East End, Mr.
BASTIEN emigrated to Canada
in 1962 after a stint in New Orleans. It was there that he heard
trumpeter (Kid) Thomas
VALENTINE play and, experiencing a kind
of epiphany, Mr.
BASTIEN followed him from club to club and studied
his style. It ultimately inspired a lifelong ambition to keep
alive New Orleans-style traditional jazz.
A purist who drew a distinction between his chosen genre of music
and the more popularized Dixieland Jazz, Mr.
BASTIEN once said:
"Had I never heard that music, I wouldn't have become a musician.
I wouldn't play anything else."
I Like Bananas, Caledonia, All of Me and Louisiana Vie en Rose
were just a few of his standards. But, as Happy Pals' trombonist
Roberta TEVLIN explained, Mr.
BASTIEN wasn't content to simply
recycle the old chestnuts.
"Cliff kept adding songs. I've probably played 1,000 different
tunes with him. He was particularly notorious for finding songs
outside the standard jazz list, said Ms.
TEVLIN, who joined
the band 20 years ago, along with her saxophonist husband, Patrick.
Bob Dylan, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Western Swing numbers,
Nigerian folk songs and Dean Martin could all tumble out during
a set, said drummer Chuck
CLARKE.
Mr. BASTIEN's
Friends and peers point out that he was known for
three primary qualities: His love of music, his scorn for fame
or publicity and his mentoring of local musicians.
During the memorial at Grossman's, Downchild Blues Band headman
Donny WALSH arrived from Florida to sit in with his harmonica,
as he had done regularly with Mr.
BASTIEN in the 1970s. Juno-nominated
bluesman Michael
PICKETT was there, as well as jazz singer Laura
HUBERT, formerly of the Leslie Spit Treeo, pianist Peter
HILL,
The Nationals and many more.
From the worldwide New Orleans jazz community, among those who
came to pay their respects were saxophonist Jean-Pierre
ALESSI
of France, trumpeter Roger (Kid Dutch)
UITHOVEN of Orlando, Florida,
clarinetist Kjeld
BRANDT from Denmark and Toronto's Brian
TOWERS,
Jan SHAW and Joe
VAN
ROSSEM.
"I cannot imagine the Toronto traditional jazz scene without
Cliff BASTIEN and his raw, emotional New Orleans-style jazz,
Mr. TOWERS wrote in a notice posted on the Internet shortly
after he learned of the death of his friend.
"He was probably the most popular and influential figure on the
Toronto traditional jazz scene. He taught many others to play
their instruments in the style and introduced thousands to the
joys of New Orleans traditional jazz.
"We went to Grossman's after our own gig and Jan and I played
some hymns with the Happy Pals. A sadder and more emotional scene
I have rarely seen."
Toronto musician Joanne
MacKELL, leader of the Paradise Rangers,
wonders how things might have been if she had not met Mr.
BASTIEN
when she was just starting out.
"Though I was young and inexperienced, Kid would always invite
me up to sing, Ms.
MacKELL said, recalling how the band took
her under its wing when she discovered them in the early 1970s.
"Kid didn't care about money or popular opinion. He filled Grossman's
Tavern every Saturday for some 30 years because he played great
music with honesty and integrity and he inspired me to try and
do the same."
Until just last year, Mr.
BASTIEN, who feared flying, avoided
the lure of the road, taking only an annual sojourn to New Orleans
for the French Quarter Festival. Finally, in the fall of 2002,
he accepted an invitation to tour Scandinavia with the Danish/Swedish
band New Orleans Delight, playing with George
BERRY on tenor
sax. A new Compact Disk is due to be released this spring.
His official recordings are few, numbering about a dozen, as
Mr. BASTIEN preferred to play to an audience. Though, as Ms.
TEVLIN pointed out: "There are bootleg tapes all over the place."
His legacy, the band says, is keeping the New Orleans style of
jazz alive.
"Kid Thomas
VALENTINE was one of the greats, and when he was
gone, Kid BASTIEN carried on. Kid
BASTIEN was one of the greats,
and now Kid's gone. So who's going to carry the music on now?
We will, said saxophonist Mr.
TEVLIN on behalf of the Happy
Pals, who intend to continue the Saturday-afternoon tradition
at Grossman's.
In another side to his life, Mr.
BASTIEN was an accomplished
commercial artist whose hand-crafted signs, woodwork and acid-etched
glass can be seen in many local pubs, including Toronto's Wheat
Sheaf Tavern. His work can be found across Ontario, Quebec, British
Columbia and California, as well as in Europe.
Mr. BASTIEN's wish was to be buried in New Orleans.
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GROSSO o@ca.on.york_county.toronto.globe_and_mail 2003-07-10 published
GROSSO,
Dr.
Roberto
Born in Rome, Italy on November 11th, 1928. Died on Tuesday,
July 8th, 2003 at home surrounded by loved ones. He is survived
by his loving wife
Caroline (née
PANCARO,) his four daughters,
Cristina GAGE, Francesca
GROSSO, Beth
GROSSO and Sylvia
RENNIE
his three sons-in-law, Brian
GAGE,
Steve
PAIKIN, and Scott
RENNIE,
and his four grandchildren, Alessandra and Robert
GAGE,
Matthew
RENNIE and Giulia
PAIKIN. Dear brother of Maria Grazia Grosso
ROSSI (husband Filippo) of Rome, Italy and Gian Carlo
GROSSO,
predeceased (wife Alessandra of Rome, Italy).
Visitation to be held at the Jackson and Barnard Funeral Home,
233 Larch Street, Sudbury, Sunday, July 13th from 2: 00 to 6:00
p.m. Prayers 3: 00 p.m. Sunday. Funeral Mass to take place at
Christ the King Church, 30 Beech Street, Sudbury on Monday, July
14th at 10: 00 a.m.
In lieu of flowers, donations to the ''Dr. Roberto Grosso Memorial
Fund'' for St. Joseph's Villa would be appreciated.
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GROTHIER o@ca.on.manitoulin.howland.little_current.manitoulin_expositor 2003-01-29 published
Mary Jane
(GROTHIER)
WHITE/WHYTE
On Wednesday, January 22, 2003, at Sunnybrook Health Sciences Centre,
Toronto, at age 71, after a lengthy illness. Loving mother of Scott
and his wife Carole of Toronto. Proud grandmother of Maddie and
Nickie. Survived by her cousin David and his wife Joanne who were so
kind to her over the years. Daughter of the late Wilmer (Bud) and
Pauline GROTHIER, formerly of Woodstock, Ontario, and predeceased by
her only sister, Margaret
CURRAN.
Mary
Jane was a graduate of the
Toronto General Hospital nursing program and a longtime volunteer at the Donwood Institute
where she helped countless people cope with the struggles of
addiction. She loved her cats, her old dog Misha and all the
Friends she met along the way. A Service of Remembrance was held at
the Humphrey Funeral Home, A.W. Miles Chapel, Toronto on Tuesday,
January 28. For every summer of her life, including the last one,
Mary Jane would travel to her favourite place in the world, McGregor
Bay. To honour her love for that precious corner of Georgian Bay,
donations may be made in her memory to the G.B.A. Foundation, 48
Lesmill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 2T5.
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GROTTOLI o@ca.on.york_county.toronto.globe_and_mail 2003-02-22 published
ALBOINI,
Christina (née
GROTTOLI)
Peacefully, at her home in Stoney Creek, on Wednesday, February
19, 2003, in her 85th year. Beloved wife and best friend of the
late Vince
ALBOINI.
Loving mother of Victor and his wife
Lesley
of Toronto, and Leonard of Grimsby. Caring grandmother of Lauren
and James, and Paul, Brian and Andrew and Michael. Christina
was born in Hamilton on November 4, 1918. Christina had a wonderful,
vibrant, spirt and zest for life. Christina will be fondly remembered
for her gifted musical abilities including her choir singing
and violin playing at Saint John The Baptist Church where she was
a longtime member. Friends will be received at the Donald V.
Brown Funeral Home, 36 Lake Avenue Drive, Stoney Creek, on Friday
from 7-9 p.m. The Funeral Mass will be held at Saint John The Baptist
Church (King Street and Edgemont, Hamilton) on Saturday, February
22 at 10 a.m. Private entombment Holy Souls Mausoleum, Burlington.
As an expression of sympathy, donations may be made to the Heart
and Stroke Foundation or the charity of your choice.
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GROVER o@ca.on.york_county.toronto.globe_and_mail 2003-12-24 published
Charlotte Isabel
GROVER
By Kathryn
STORRING,
Wednesday,
December 24, 2003 - Page A20
Woman of words, lover of cats. Born September 25, 1953, in Toronto.
Died October 1, of cancer, aged 50.
You may have noticed my cousin on one of her regular tours of
Toronto's Eaton Centre. A large woman -- a side-effect of medication
she may have been somewhat dishevelled, depending on the day.
You may have also noticed how her purposeful stride was interrupted
by a limp, the result of a hip problem. It's unlikely she returned
any glance you cast her way. In middle years, she wasn't out
to seek your acceptance or the approval of the so-called normal
world.
Charlotte GROVER did not have an easy life -- not one most of
us would choose. She had schizophrenia coupled with mild autism,
after all. But how do we measure happiness or define achievement?
In the end, is it not about being cushioned by love, living in
a supportive home, knowing you've overcome incredible challenges?
Raised by doting parents and living for the past eight years
with Pilot Place, a residence for schizophrenics, Charlotte was
gentle, endearingly polite and keenly curious about her interests:
words, animals, history, droll jokes. All of this made it easy
for me and another cousin, Holly
McBRIDE of Peterborough, Ontario,
to accept a request from Charlotte's mother that we be future
co-guardians. In retrospect, my acceptance may also have been
an attempt to settle the past -- all those years when Charlotte's
name evoked profound sadness in our extended family; those years
when few of us knew what to say or do.
Charlotte's father, John, an accountant who loved art and poetry
as much as numbers, died in 1993. Her mother, Rachel, whose remarkable
intellect fuelled a career at the University of Toronto's rare
books library, had a stroke last spring that has left her partially
paralyzed.
As a child, Charlotte was healthy, bright and cheerful, but her
behaviour was decidedly unusual. I remember her standing apart,
watching, as her cousins played on my family's farm near Peterborough.
It was more than the awkwardness of a city kid visiting country
cousins. Often she would retreat to the house and read a dictionary,
emerging to recite definitions in her measured tones. There was
also her obsession with our Siamese cat, Simon. Insistent, predictable
questions would start with, "Do you like Simon, Kathy?" and progress
through a stream of comparisons to other, lesser felines.
Still, her behaviour did not attract labels. If anything, we
looked upon her as an intellectual in the making. However, in
teen years, schizophrenia overshadowed her life. School marks
plummeted. Attempts were made to find specialized education and,
later, suitable lodging -- fresh starts and new disappointments
for parents who were steadfast in their love and support. With
visitors to the family home, Charlotte was distant. Conversations
would pull her in, but she would quickly disengage. Often, making
tea was her easiest social connection.
This all changed in recent years with improved medications and
her move to Pilot Place. She still visited her mother regularly,
but her life found a new rhythm in a mix of independence, support
and routine. She took pleasure in visits to the Eaton Centre
or the library's history section. She had setbacks, including
a vascular necrosis, which affected her hip, but she never complained
unless you made specific inquiries. Instead, she filled conversations
with questions about family, jobs or hobbies -- and, of course,
Simon.
It seems unfair that during this period of calm, cancer was silently
stalking her. By the time it revealed itself, with painful blood
clots, Charlotte had only one week to live, spent in St. Michael's
Hospital. We gathered there -- family, my aunt's Friends, a compassionate
medical team and Pilot Place staff. If it had to be, it was the
best it could be.
Kathryn STORRING is Charlotte's cousin.
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