Shin-kicker

Peter Worthington left us this past weekend. He died as a result of a staph infection. I was surprised to learn he was all of 86 years of age. A thick unruly mat of hair threatening to consume his forehead, coupled with a lean and overall fit appearance, conspired to present a more youthful man in our brief encounters on Main Street or Pierson’s grocery store.

Peter lived in Wellington, or rather on the outskirts, for two decades—long enough to watch this community change. Some good. Some bad. That is what change is.

Though he possessed a very prominent soapbox, he rarely imposed his views on the place. He almost never waded into municipal politics—knowing instinctively, perhaps, his outsized voice risked contorting the dialogue rather than propelling it along.

Perhaps, too, he had gained serenity that comes with having witnessed history firsthand for decades. Against the context of world wars, the assassination of presidents and peering into the mind of a horrific child-killer, the worries of Prince Edward County must have seemed both small and reassuring. There were a few exceptions.

Peter was Dukes fan. He loved the story of it—a village of 1,500 producing a winning junior hockey team year after year, culminating in a trip to Charlottetown in 2003 to compete for the national title. He enjoyed the buzz of the village on a Friday night before a game—the restaurants full, the conversations on the street corner, the blankets neatly spread across the rinkside stands ensuring a place to sit and a warm butt for those wise enough to plan ahead.

He understood the central guiding role the Lavender family, and in particular Garry Lavender, played in the success and durability of the team. Peter called his 2004 story about the team “Hockeytown, Ontario.” Copies of that issue of the Toronto Sun remain tucked away in drawers or bookcases across the County. Many will likely be pulled out this week and read again.

Peter had an acute sensitivity to the plight of animals— particularly those at risk of harm.

He was rigid defender of the Bergeron family and Joe in particular. Peter admired his efforts to save, protect and rehabilitate abandoned wild animals at his sanctuary north of Picton. Joe Bergeron worked on the edges of the rulebook—more interested in serving the animals than complying with municipal rules and regulations. This brought him in frequent conflict with Shire Hall. Peter was a staunch and powerful friend. When Joe died in 2010, Peter called him a hero for his efforts to assist animals in distress.

When Peter’s neighbour Dave Thompson lost his dog to coyotes in 2011, Peter used his column in the Sun to warn about the rising threat posed by these wily creatures. Evident throughout his account, was a searing personal sympathy for Thompson’s loss of his nine-year-old Jack Russell terrier Casey. It was evident from this and other writing that Peter’s connection to his own animals was profound, tender and rare.

That column remains for me an intriguing window into the man: the contrasting image of the hard-bitten journalist who climbed through the newspaper ranks, even as they crumbled and reformed around him, with that of the compassionate and earnest defender of vulnerable creatures.

Peter was much more than the narrow description his reputation and this column allow. He was more modest, gracious and caring than his persona conveyed.

Yet by inclination he was a shin-kicker—a selfdescribed vocation dedicated to being an irritant to the bigger, stronger, arrogant and self-serving in our midst.

It is hard to shake the feeling as Peter takes his leave that the era of newspapers is in flux. I will not predict its demise, for I believe the hunger for stories about our world and those who would shape it will continue to propel citizens to seek out reliable, trusted and lively sources of news.

How we do this is surely changing, but the principles Peter understood—telling good stories, providing eyewitness accounts of key events, giving unasked-for advice and mobilizing readers to a cause—will surely remain defining characteristics of the business of news.

Peter knew this. He understood survival in the news business needed a scrappy, irrepressible yet ultimately compassionate voice. Peter was all of that.

rick@wellingtontimes.ca