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Gerry White is a recovering alcoholic who became a lawyer at age 50. Closed the bar, called to the bar, works behind bars — he’s heard all the drunk-becomes-lawyer chirps.
He retired a week ago at 70, when lung cancer did what age couldn’t: made him wrap up his practice, which he ran with a cellphone and a legal pad on his lap, sometimes in restaurants, often in the hectic atmosphere of the courthouse basement.
Representing addicts, as he did most of his career, is not the stuff of limos and boardrooms.
One day this week, White was sitting on the wide porch at the home of his ex-wife Nancy, his knees covered in a blanket, a bucket hat on his head, Blackberry in hand, a walker at his feet. It was a lovely fall afternoon, the autumn of his days.
Gerry White, 70, well-known Ottawa lawyer who works almost exclusively with addicts., retired at the end of September and is battling lung cancer.
He’s lost weight from the chemo treatment, and his blue eyes looked enormous. But his sense of humour just shone.
“High school? I never graduated from high school,” he says, describing his “escape” from St. Pius X, the former preparatory seminary where he boarded in 1958 and ’59.
When he applied to law school at the University of Ottawa at the age of 45, he said, there were three categories of eligibility: “Disadvantaged, mature or regular. They didn’t know which one to put me in.”
Did he enjoy law school? “No. Just not my type of thing. All I was interested in was the criminal side.” He admits he couldn’t draw up a will to save his life. “I had to go to a lawyer.”
He graduated from Carleton University with a degree in about 1970. But he didn’t collect the diploma until 1984, “when I finally paid them.”
White forged a reputation in Ottawa legal circles as the lawyer for alcoholics, advocating for drunks who had tried to turn lives around. There was, of course, not much money in it, the law as unpaid social work.
At his retirement party last week, there were genuine tears. Some astonished lawyers, we are told, discovered they had beating hearts.
“I am not sure Gerry can be easily replaced. There is no one like him to tell it like it is. His legacy is that he changed the way we think about addiction, and the way we, in the legal community, treat those with addiction who come in contact with the justice system.”
These are the words of Ontario Court Justice Heather Perkins-McVey.
“Importantly, over his many years of plain-speaking advocacy, he taught all of us on the bench about addiction and gave true meaning to the word rehabilitation.”
White believes it’s more important to treat the fundamental addiction than to harshly punish the resulting criminality, often of a nuisance variety. And he also fought to have rehabilitation efforts — like extended sobriety — recognized like dead jail time at sentencing.
“My view of it is that an addict or alcoholic has very few defences when caught up in the throes of his addiction,” said White.
“I seldom set trial dates. My approach is to mitigate.”
Fellow lawyer Mitchell Rowe has known White for years, in the courtroom and on the golf course.
“But Gerry’s no hand-holder,” he said of his sometimes-gruff gown-mate, “his clients had to play by his rules. They had to go to AA meetings. They had to abstain. Maybe they had to reside at Harvest House for a year. And if they really tried to recover, he went to battle for them in court, sometimes against skeptical judicial minds. “
White was born in Chelsea, Que., the eighth of nine children, and grew up in hand-me-downs, largely raised by an older sister.
He drank heavily in his 20s, finally sobering up at 32. He knows what it’s like to wake up in a strange place, with no memory. “I’ve been there, sick, drunk, in jail.
“Oh,” he says with a head shake, “there’s no feeling like it. They could say you’d killed somebody and you’d believe them.”
The most remarkable twist in White’s story, however: He married the same woman twice, divorced her twice, and is now convalescing in her home, where a third marriage is rumoured.
He woke up in hospital one morning and there was Nancy, ready to take him home, which she shares with their daughter, Stacie.
“Oh my God, the stories,” Nancy said inside the house, in the St. Laurent-Donald area.
“I think we’ve laughed more in the last month that in the first two marriages.” She’s astonished at the parade of visitors who have stopped by to see White, including retired judges.
It’s Thanksgiving. What’s he grateful for?
“I’m grateful for my sobriety. I’m grateful for so many things,” he says.
“If the guys only knew the rewards. Some of the guys get their kids back, get their wives back. There’s nothing more rewarding that that.”
But who gets his wife back, then back, then back again, 31 years later? Yet ye shall know gratitude, Gerry White, in these, the autumn of your days.
To contact Kelly Egan, please call 613-726-5896 or email kegan@ottawacitizen.com.
twitter.com/kellyegancolumn
查看原文...
He retired a week ago at 70, when lung cancer did what age couldn’t: made him wrap up his practice, which he ran with a cellphone and a legal pad on his lap, sometimes in restaurants, often in the hectic atmosphere of the courthouse basement.
Representing addicts, as he did most of his career, is not the stuff of limos and boardrooms.
One day this week, White was sitting on the wide porch at the home of his ex-wife Nancy, his knees covered in a blanket, a bucket hat on his head, Blackberry in hand, a walker at his feet. It was a lovely fall afternoon, the autumn of his days.
Gerry White, 70, well-known Ottawa lawyer who works almost exclusively with addicts., retired at the end of September and is battling lung cancer.
He’s lost weight from the chemo treatment, and his blue eyes looked enormous. But his sense of humour just shone.
“High school? I never graduated from high school,” he says, describing his “escape” from St. Pius X, the former preparatory seminary where he boarded in 1958 and ’59.
When he applied to law school at the University of Ottawa at the age of 45, he said, there were three categories of eligibility: “Disadvantaged, mature or regular. They didn’t know which one to put me in.”
Did he enjoy law school? “No. Just not my type of thing. All I was interested in was the criminal side.” He admits he couldn’t draw up a will to save his life. “I had to go to a lawyer.”
He graduated from Carleton University with a degree in about 1970. But he didn’t collect the diploma until 1984, “when I finally paid them.”
White forged a reputation in Ottawa legal circles as the lawyer for alcoholics, advocating for drunks who had tried to turn lives around. There was, of course, not much money in it, the law as unpaid social work.
At his retirement party last week, there were genuine tears. Some astonished lawyers, we are told, discovered they had beating hearts.
“I am not sure Gerry can be easily replaced. There is no one like him to tell it like it is. His legacy is that he changed the way we think about addiction, and the way we, in the legal community, treat those with addiction who come in contact with the justice system.”
These are the words of Ontario Court Justice Heather Perkins-McVey.
“Importantly, over his many years of plain-speaking advocacy, he taught all of us on the bench about addiction and gave true meaning to the word rehabilitation.”
White believes it’s more important to treat the fundamental addiction than to harshly punish the resulting criminality, often of a nuisance variety. And he also fought to have rehabilitation efforts — like extended sobriety — recognized like dead jail time at sentencing.
“My view of it is that an addict or alcoholic has very few defences when caught up in the throes of his addiction,” said White.
“I seldom set trial dates. My approach is to mitigate.”
Fellow lawyer Mitchell Rowe has known White for years, in the courtroom and on the golf course.
“But Gerry’s no hand-holder,” he said of his sometimes-gruff gown-mate, “his clients had to play by his rules. They had to go to AA meetings. They had to abstain. Maybe they had to reside at Harvest House for a year. And if they really tried to recover, he went to battle for them in court, sometimes against skeptical judicial minds. “
White was born in Chelsea, Que., the eighth of nine children, and grew up in hand-me-downs, largely raised by an older sister.
He drank heavily in his 20s, finally sobering up at 32. He knows what it’s like to wake up in a strange place, with no memory. “I’ve been there, sick, drunk, in jail.
“Oh,” he says with a head shake, “there’s no feeling like it. They could say you’d killed somebody and you’d believe them.”
The most remarkable twist in White’s story, however: He married the same woman twice, divorced her twice, and is now convalescing in her home, where a third marriage is rumoured.
He woke up in hospital one morning and there was Nancy, ready to take him home, which she shares with their daughter, Stacie.
“Oh my God, the stories,” Nancy said inside the house, in the St. Laurent-Donald area.
“I think we’ve laughed more in the last month that in the first two marriages.” She’s astonished at the parade of visitors who have stopped by to see White, including retired judges.
It’s Thanksgiving. What’s he grateful for?
“I’m grateful for my sobriety. I’m grateful for so many things,” he says.
“If the guys only knew the rewards. Some of the guys get their kids back, get their wives back. There’s nothing more rewarding that that.”
But who gets his wife back, then back, then back again, 31 years later? Yet ye shall know gratitude, Gerry White, in these, the autumn of your days.
To contact Kelly Egan, please call 613-726-5896 or email kegan@ottawacitizen.com.
twitter.com/kellyegancolumn
查看原文...
