When I was called in 1986 and started receiving copies of “The Advocate,” the first place I went to was the “Bench and Bar” section where I saw who was moving firms. Now, as my career inevitably shuffles off into the sunset, I look to see who is on the cover in the unlikely event it’s me. And I always read “Nos Disparus.”

I have been involved in the drafting of two Nos Disparus columns over the past six months; Len Plosky’s and Kathy Sainty’s. Len was my boss, my mentor and my friend since 1988. He hired me as his “junior” and I worked with him at both Ray Connell and Ferguson Gifford over a span of 10 years as a franchise lawyer. He took me to franchising conferences in Toronto, New Orleans, San Antonio and other cities where I learned all I could learn about this niche area of law, and he introduced me to as many other franchise lawyers as possible. He didn’t keep work to himself and tried to pass on to me as much as he could. When I was out of my depth, he was always available to help me become a better lawyer. As I became more senior, he would pop into my office and bounce things off of me, because he respected my opinion. When Ferguson Gifford wound down, both of us went our separate ways, but we would still meet up at conferences and have lunch from time to time. We met at a restaurant in New West in April 2023, then walked to my house and shot the breeze for three hours listening to my extended Steely Dan playlist (which I knew he enjoyed).
Part of me wonders if he knew he was ill and was saying goodbye, because he passed away only eight months later. I owe my entire professional career to Len.

Kathy Sainty worked with my wife at Kane Shannon and Weiler and then moved to the Supreme Court; eventually becoming Registrar. Kathy was a great friend, colleague and mentor to many inside and outside of the legal profession. She was generous with her time and spent countless hours volunteering both in and outside of the profession, particularly in the support of women and women lawyers. We spent a week with Kathy and her husband in Palm Desert in 2023 and she was celebrating two years cancer free. So it was sad beyond belief that a couple of months later, the cancer had returned and she passed away in January 2024.

There are other lawyers whose lives intersected with mine but who are no longer with us. The great John Sullivan died in a parachuting accident in 1988. Had he lived, he would’ve been my son’s godfather and on the Court of Appeal by now. Kieran Bridge was one of the smartest people I ever met and was the gold medallist in my law school class at UVic. He passed away way too early in 2018. David Long used to joke that he practised in the Insecurities Department at Douglas Symes. He died at 50 and as profoundly sad as that was, he had the most amazing celebration of life I’ve ever been to. Brad Addison was ahead of me at law school but when I appeared in the lobby of Braidwood for my articling interview, he made me feel extremely welcome and was always a gentleman on the files that we were adverse on.

The death of a colleague or mentor is often unexpected, and takes away the opportunity of letting them know, in large ways and small, how much they made a difference at some point in our careers, or how their help or their mentorship made us better lawyers than we otherwise would have been. Like billiard balls in motion, we’re sent in unpredictable directions simply through contact with our colleagues.

Although I don’t believe in heaven, I believe we don’t really die at the moment of our death. Instead, we live a “second life” for as long as the last person who remembers us is alive. For me, Len, Kathy, John, Kieran, David, Brad and my other colleagues at the Bar who are no longer with us will still be with me, as long as I am around to remember them.