by Douglas P. Welbanks
A gray sky guided Mike and I to the Parish Hall door at St. James’ Church, a place famous for its outreach to the Downtown Eastside community. It was Saturday, May 14th 2011. Michael Gillette, a good friend, had volunteered to strum background sonatas on his classical guitar while the church hosted a public celebration of May Gutteridge’s life.
Over the last three years, while researching her life, I was surprised by how many people had never heard of her. This seemed to be quite strange as my memories after working at St. James’ Social Service so long ago, in the early 1970s, remained vivid and crystal clear. She helped so many people in so many incredible ways.
I asked her friends and colleagues to share their version of her momentous story because May influenced each person, differently. Her story would be best told this way.
Mike Harcourt, the former Mayor of Vancouver and Premier of British Columbia, described her this way:
“May was a formidable woman – not the kind of person you would say no to. And, why would you? Because her cause was so eminently worthwhile.”
Father Don Willis, a former assistant priest at St. James’ Church from 1992-2005, gave an unbeatable description of who she was.
“To recall May Gutteridge at work, and to see all that has since come from her leadership and example, is to be reminded of her belief that every single one of us is a child of God, and her insistence that every individual be treated as such.
The Church calls us to see Christ in all others. Not an easy task. But looking back over my own long life I cannot recall anyone who has more successfully translated the challenge into reality than May. It’s tempting to speculate on how many of the problems and divisions that currently exist in our frequently judgemental society would disappear if her example were more widely followed.
I am privileged to have known May as a parishioner, a co-worker and a friend. May the work she inspired long go on.”
These and numerous other stories from friends, colleagues and family helped me articulate a description that best suited May’s complex and diverse character – and led to the publication of From Lost to Found, The May Gutteridge Story in 2011. The response to the book’s public appeal to permanently record May Gutteridge’s life and to remember her progressed to the event today.
***
We were lucky to get a parking spot on Gore Avenue directly across the street from the entrance. We got out, plugged the hungry parking meter with metallic delights and suddenly Darren, one of the people recruited for the day’s festivities, emerged from the castle-like wooden door at the side entrance.
We unloaded Mike’s guitar equipment and rushed across the busy street to set up everything for 2pm – when people were expected to arrive.
Up a small flight of familiar steps we went – well-travelled during my earlier social worker career, and we entered the hall that hosted so many of May’s past events.
To the left, several tables joined to form a contiguous line that criss-crossed the room diagonally – in front of the stage. Rows of china cups and saucers were delicately stacked three-high. Sugar and milk containers sat at the far end along with thermoses soon to be filled with freshly brewed coffee and tea. This immediately caught our attention because it contrasted so radically from the normally empty room and wide-open shiny floor that reflected the trickling tidbits of light from the outside alley and the flickering lights beaming inside from above.
Straight ahead and midpoint in the room a head table with 7 chairs was squarely position in front of a striking Christian cross made from polished woods and shells from the South Pacific, donated to St. James Church by the Melanesian Brotherhood of the Solomon Islands. In front of the head table, rows of chairs, carefully arranged in theatre style, with a centre aisle, went back to the north wall. The parish hall looked great.
Michael Gillette found a place for his equipment off to the side the head table and began unpacking. Mary Brown, a St. James’ parishioner and board member of St. James’ Community Service Society, appeared on the stage and descended the stairs to greet us.
I could see Pamela Jeacocke and a group of ladies in the kitchen, in behind the stage, busy baking a delicious selection of oven-baked pastries for May’s many friends and family. I went up and asked if I could snap a picture for posterity which was shyly refused.
From the top of the stage I digested the symmetry of this well-organized chamber that sat quiet and empty. I worried with considerable anxiety that very few would attend as just the day before I had received a flurry of apologies and cancellations. Father Don Willis who authored one of the most endearing testimonials about May, couldn’t make it due to surgery the day before. Sally Hatfield, an early volunteer and one of May’s long-time supporters, also underwent surgery and was unable to come. Monica Hogg, one of my greatest allies who brought May back to life on the internet and who contributed endlessly to the restoration of May Gutteridge’s historical record, couldn’t make it. Philip Green, a long time friend who originally introduced me to May Gutteridge in 1972 had left for a family reunion in Chicago that could only be held on May 14th. So, my reservations were real.
Mike Gillette’s first warm-up song interrupted my retrospection. The reverberating notes and lively melody filled the room with anticipation. I went down the stage steps and then out to the street to see if anyone – anyone – might be coming. Darren, a tall strong young man, proudly stood by the door to point potential attendees in the right direction. Out from a crowd, Janette Andrew and Herbie Roberts, whose life-long relationships dated back to the very beginning of the May Gutteridge legacy, became visible and smiled as they were the first to enter. John and Ann Conway also appeared at the door. John was the Chair of the May Gutteridge committee, formed in late December 2010 to organize the May 14th celebration, and Ann was a former colleague of May’s from the St. James’ Family Agape program. Their early financial and moral support for writing the May Gutteridge story allowed my good intentions to be translated into a final, well-edited book.
Mary MacDougall, the former Executive Director of Catholic Family Services in BC arrived with Trudi Shaw, now a Deacon but who was a former staff member in her early career with May. Trudi and Mary both graciously took over the role of greeting people and handing out beautifully designed programs printed through the generosity of Glenmore Printing of Richmond.
Lance, Tallulah and Ursula Gutteridge followed with artefacts and enlarged pictures of their great mother and grandmother. A full-scale framed picture of May, inscribed with her birth date May 21st, 1917, and her passing on February 26th, 2002, was positioned on an easel at the end of the head table so that the audience would see May as they watched and listened to the keynote speakers.
Into this festive atrium came a slow but constant stream of people climbing their way up the steps to enter this room already transformed with tender loving care. Many professionals were now in the room. Among them were Sr. Elizabeth Kelliher from the Sisters of the Atonement, Scott Small from the Catholic Charities Men’s Hostel, James Bennett, well known for his work with disadvantaged in Surrey, Marleen Morris and Jonathan Oldman from St. James Community Service Society, Helmut Boehm, the Executive Director of Wagner Hills Farm and a current city councillor, Ellen Woodsworth.
All the keynote speakers, Archbishop Douglas Hambidge, Judy Graves, Carol Matusicky, Lance and I had arrived, except for Mike Harcourt. Would he come? I asked myself still twitching with apprehension.
We began to take our seats when someone with a black leather jacket entered the doorway and began shaking hands with everyone in the room. It was Mike. I exhaled a quiet sigh of relief.
We announced that the presentations would begin in 5 minutes. The room by this time was quite full. More chairs were added.
John Conway, the Master of Ceremonies, welcomed all the guests and introduced the first speaker, Archbishop Douglas Hambidge. He walked to the microphone that stood at the end of the table in between me and May’s picture, and began the celebration by saying, “When I first came to the diocese no-one would mention the name May Gutteridge. After all, she had picketed the Anglican Church of Canada. Can you imagine that?” He spoke with vitality and humour as he recalled how May intimidated and angered some in the church with her passionate crusade for the poor and the disenfranchised. The Archbishop also informed us how May consistently referred to those she helped as her friends.
Judy Graves shared her heart-warming story of personal agnosticism back at the time she first met May Gutteridge. How she eventually converted her beliefs to embrace the kind of Christianity she witnessed through May and others in the Downtown Eastside who never lost faith and never gave up.
Dr. Carol Matusicky, the former Executive Director of the BC Council of Families, kindly supported my efforts to help the working poor throughout the 1980s and 90s while I transferred May’s teachings into the provincial government. Carol enthusiastically read my early drafts of May’s life and provided endless encouragement. Ironically, Carol possessed first hand knowledge about the Downtown Eastside as her family had owned a marine business in the same block at Powell and Gore Avenue in the 1950s and 60s.
Mike Harcourt disclosed to the audience how elected officials and bureau chiefs locked their doors when they heard that May Gutteridge was in the building. He said, “Harry Rankin would be upset to hear that May was at City Hall. ‘What does she want this time?’ he often complained.”
We could see that Mike enjoyed his ruminations of this strong, courageous woman who could knock down the walls of disinterest and apathy, ‘always politely’ and send shivers of fear through the halls of bureaucracy.
Mike told an amazing story about how May had pushed government for better and safer living conditions for the poor in the Downtown Eastside for years. One day in the early 1970s he witnessed the Commercial Hotel go up in flames from his storefront office that resulted in the tragic death of several people. In a matter of just a few weeks, the amendments she had vigorously lobbied for, were finally enacted.
Lance Gutteridge took the microphone next fully intending on publicly presenting the framed picture of his mother to St. James’ church to be hung in the May Gutteridge Room. As he began his reflections of early childhood in Prairie River Saskatchewan, the lack of plumbing, the sink that drained into a bucket that everyone forgot to empty until it was too late, his voice quavered with emotion. His warm tribute to his mother ended, gracefully.
I had the honour of speaking last. I had fully intended to thank a long list of people. I had planned to begin by thanking the Archbishop for continuing to speak to me after reading one of my earliest and rawest manuscripts. I also reserved special mention of Bishop Michael Ingham for smiling as he flipped through the pages of an early draft. My visit to his office led to Lyndon Grove and his book, Pacific Pilgrims, which helped accumulate new information most helpful to the reconstruction of May’s earlier days.
I wanted to thank Fr. Don Willis personally for giving me such inspiration in the earliest hours without reading one word from the manuscript. His blind faith endorsed me as a person and as a writer and gave me the confidence to keep going.
David Triguerio also read primitive early drafts, answered my many phone calls, helped me collect missing information, soothed my frustration with the faded memories of friends and colleagues that blocked the restoration of her life and an unexpected apathy blowing in all directions from professionals, the media and the Christian community outside of the Anglican circle of the Diocese of New Westminster – and for contributing a 3,500 word and most uplifting article, spoken with humour and in his usual caustic voice.
I also wanted to thank Philip Green who acted as my agent and ambassador to St. James’ Church and likewise read early drafts and contributed a well-written article. Like all of these early articles that included Tyleen Katz, Kathy Swain, Ken Christie, Helmut Boehm, Benny Chin, Lorena Gulbrandsen, Bill Hustler, Father Alwyn Hyndeman, Maureen Lange, Father Harold Nahabedian, Herb Roberts, Janette Andrew and Wes Wagner, these were edited out of the book by my editors. I resisted the loss of the personal tone and syntax of the contributors but eventually agreed to have the stories, facts and events told in chronological order.
I wanted to thank Randy Murray, the Communications Director for the Anglican Diocese as his strong support and help in getting the word out to the parishes about May’s life and this celebration, today, was invaluable.
I wished to thank Jack Ong for putting May on Wikipedia, guaranteeing her a permanent and ubiquitous presence in the global community.
Sitting directly in front of me was living proof that May Gutteridge lives through others as I glanced at Sandra Gray’s face. Her mother died at 39 years of age leaving 6 young children behind. May took up the difficult case for having the eldest teenage child appointed legal guardian. She succeeded. Today, Sandra has a Bachelors degree of Social Work and her sister a PHD in social work.
Lorena Gulbrandsen also reaffirmed May’s loving and caring approach to helping people as she was hired in the mid 1970s, the daughter of a family Mrs Gutteridge first met in the early 1960s who found life-long employment at St. James. I wanted to thank her for travelling such a long distance to pay tribute to May….
However, the keynote speakers before me were sooooo good. I said to myself, “how do you follow that?” So, I decided to express my gratitude, firstly, to everyone in attendance, and secondly, to everyone at the head table and those in the kitchen who helped make May 14th, 2011, another memory not to be forgotten.
See photos of the event