Lightfoot’s passing, then and now

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This article was published 04/05/2023 (901 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

‘It is with profound sadness that we confirm that Gordon Meredith Lightfoot has passed away. Gordon died peacefully on Monday, May 1, 2023 at 7:30 p.m. at Sunnybrook Hospital in Toronto. He died of natural causes. He was 84 years old.” — release from Lightfoot family

“Lightfoot was sitting in the dental chair and heard in the background … legendary radio host Charles Adler expressing his sorrow on the news being widely reported. ‘The first thing I thought of was to call (Charles) and tell him I was still alive,’ Lightfoot said with a chuckle. … ‘I remember, I was checking to see if I had a pulse,’ he said. ‘At the time it seemed strange but now it seems funny.’” — Gordon Lightfoot in 2018, reminiscing to Joe Warmington of the Toronto Sun

I was just minding my own business on Feb. 10, 2010, hosting one of thousands of national radio shows I did over many years in many different parts of North America.

On this day, I was at the Winnipeg studio of what I called the 50,000 watt blowtorch of Manitoba, the venerable CJOB.

I can’t remember what topic I was offering commentary on.

I can’t remember who I had just interviewed.

But there was never a day where my eyes weren’t on at least one computer screen while I was performing on live radio.

Something came across the screen that made me interrupt whatever I was doing and share my immediate real-time feelings with my national audience. The screen told me that David Akin, a veteran journalist who I knew and trusted, had confirmed reports on Twitter that Gordon Lightfoot had passed away.

This was David Akin out of Ottawa saying he nailed down the story. Canada’s tremendous troubador had written his last lyric, sung his final note. There were to be no more serenades for the Canadian soul.

Gordon Lightfoot wasn’t my best friend. He was every Canadian’s BFF (best friend forever). Those were the thoughts bicycling through my brain faster than the speed of sound.

My decision to take the screen seriously and get the story to air immediately was not difficult. Because I felt David Akin’s credibility was Rock of Gibraltar solid, the words “hesitate” and “double check” didn’t occur to me. There was no need to apply the brakes and wait for some sort of official confirmation from Lightfoot’s office or family. I wanted our audience to be the very first in Canada to hear the devastatingly sad news.

On that day in February, 13 years and 3 months ago, the good news was that the story was 100 per cent wrong. My audience knew it was wrong, when I took a phone call less than 20 minutes after I made the announcement. I had just done a riff, as I was wont to do, with not a word of script, just my spontaneous thinking out loud of what Lightfoot meant to the country and to me personally.

So I imagine I must have done a 10 to 12 minute ramble, wrapping it up with a phone number, the bridge from listener to host. I wanted to grant the audience a chance to respond to the death of the legendary Lightfoot.

I was fully expecting the phone to light up with the voices of mostly boomers expressing their pain upon hearing the news.

What I wasn’t expecting was getting a call from the grave, or at least someone who was reported to be dead.

“Hi Chuck.” It was the warm and gentle baritone of someone I knew. It was Gordon, himself, telling me he had been listening to the show and, yes, checking his pulse.

This was quintessential Gordon Lightfoot, low key, casual, conversational-Canadian. The greatest lyricist I ever heard, travelling the many ribbons of darkness that I drove across in the land both he and I loved, was on the phone from Toronto in a live conversation.

The exact words will never matter.

The only thing that mattered was life itself. Gordon Lightfoot was alive.

There are many reasons why Lightfoot touched my Canadian heart in song. He touched all of us. And there are some personal reasons why I give credit to the late Gordon Lightfoot for giving me professional advice that changed the trajectory of my career and my life. I will save that for another column.

That will never matter nearly as much as the day Canadians learned that the people’s poet was still breathing.

And if you could read my mind on Feb. 10, 2010, you would see these five words “Thank God I was wrong.”

This time, Canadians were not as fortunate.

Charles Adler is a longtime political commenter and podcaster.

charles@charlesadler.com