National Heroes

There was Steve Fonyo, in the wake of another young man whose bout with cancer left him with an amputated leg, determined to do just as his predecessor Terry Fox did, dedicate himself to a formidable physical effort to empower himself and to stimulate Canadians from coast to coast to coast to fund research into cancer. As a young man, just as occurred with Terry Fox who himself did not live to see his reputation soar into the national consciousness, Steve Fonyo ran to his coastal destination and dipped his prosthetic leg into the ocean, a symbolic gesture of having completed his quest.

And in the process he raised $13-million for cancer research, at the age of 19. He was held in public esteem, and he loved the attention and the praise. But his brief moment of fame simply did not last. Still, as a symbol of the country's recognition of his outstanding achievement, as a cancer survivor who extended his physical resources to bring attention to the need to combat cancer in all its dread forms, he was presented with the Order of Canada. A public beach in Victoria was named after Steve Fonyo. This was a young man proud of his reputation and his contribution to cancer research.

And then, twenty-five years later, there is Steve Fonyo, older, and not particularly wiser, but certainly much sadder. One run-in with the law after another tarnished his once-golden reputation as a national hero, and he was taken down off the pedestal that the Order of Canada raised him to, as it was revoked because of his growing criminal record. A record reflecting petty crime, petty criminal offences, reflecting a young man growing into a confused, resentful older man trying to quell his inner demons.

Passing bad cheques, five drunk-driving convictions, a cocaine habit, a problem with alcohol, and assault. This sad figure of a man trying to pick up the pieces of a life that went badly awry tells a journalist who has written about him that his problems all stemmed from depression, from the trauma he suffered at the death of his father mere months after the conclusion of his historical fund-raising run across Canada. He has weaned himself off drugs and alcohol, his last DUI was 14 years earlier.

He wants another chance at life. He lives a fairly meagre existence, with money in short supply, working as a truck mechanic. He plans to marry his live-in girlfriend, and wants to be married on the very beach named after him. Hoping it will retain its name. He sees himself settling into a quiet home on a quiet street with his two cats, and his new wife, content to stay out of trouble and to just get on with his life. He is decidedly unhappy at the loss of his Order of Canada medal.

And here is another national hero, although one not as universally known outside professional medical circles and the national capital as Mr. Fonyo. The esteem in which this national hero, Doctor and Senator Wilbert Keon is held, is that of a skilled heart surgeon instrumental in pioneering new surgical techniques and in treating heart-attack patients. He was responsible for the development of the acclaimed University of Ottawa Heart Institute, from which institution he retired in 2004.

He and his wife and their three children lived in a leafy suburb outside the city centre, in a 10,000-square-foot home. He has always been well-remunerated for his scientific-medical expertise. And when in 1990 he was asked by then-Prime Minister Brian Mulroney, who needed to stack the Chamber of Sober Second Thought with enough supporters to pass his GST legislation, his first reaction was "I can't afford it". The base salary of a Canadian senator currently is roughly $132,000; and senators with additional positions on committees earn considerably more.

That kind of guaranteed income does not represent an unaffordable position to most Canadians. Mr. Mulroney was quick to assure Dr. Keon that he could continue in his medical career while sitting as a senator: "...there are many many precedents for this so you don't have to worry about that." So, Dr. Keon selflessly decided he would accept that paltry senatorial pay cheque and by the way continue his other career, in medicine. Which enabled him to finance his three children's university expenses outside the country.

Dr. Keon did much good as a senator, helping to create some critically needed national health research institutes. He also, doubtless, as many other Senators in the Upper Chamber famously, but quietly do, engaged in lobbying. When a senator who represents a law firm or another kind of independent business calls in federal bureaucrats to ask favours of them, this is unregistered lobbying. Which is handily overlooked. Dr. Keon, now 75 years of age, has of necessity stepped down from the Senate.

While still a new senator, and while labouring mightily as a renowned heart surgeon, Dr. Keon was arrested by an undercover police officer posing as a prostitute. He avoided any kind of prosecution by agreeing to attend "John school". Where, presumably, he was informed in no uncertain terms that by engaging in such activities as soliciting for sex, he was seen as a problem in society. This was quite an embarrassment for the man, but he had a forgiving family. He soiled himself, some might think irreparably, but they might think wrong.

If one has prestige and power and emotional support and a forgiving public with a short memory, all is forgiven. His Order of Canada was awarded in 1984. He was not asked to return it.