Remembering Murray Sutherland

well..... our family lost a friend today.

Murray Sutherland died today... from a brain tumour.


Murray was a family friend, for a lot of years. He was quiet, humble, calm.... he played the piano and organ like very few could.... Murray was the kind of person that would impact your life, but because he was so quiet about it, it would take you some time before you realized how much he'd impacted you....

One story from my youth, sums it all up:

When I was in high school, often during the hot days of summer, we kids would PLEAD with my parents to take us swimming....... and often, after supper, we'd coerce my parents to phone Murray and Marg Sutherland, and "invite ourselves over" to swim in their pool....

many times, in my childhood, after supper on a hot day, we'd go over to the Sutherlands' pool and swim.... at some point during those hot evening swims, my dad and Murray came upon the idea of beekeeping..... "wouldn't it be neat if we both got a hive of bees, and kept them together " at the Mackay's house.....
and they did..... Two bee hives, sat side by side, for years, at the back of the 2 acre lot we had on the 4th of Thurlow.....
And often, on Saturdays, the Sutherlands would come over: Rob and Tim would play with us kids, Marg would visit with my mom, and Dad and Murray would go to the back of our lot and "keep" bees... whatever that meant!

On one particular Saturday, as vivid in my mind as if it was yesterday..... Dad and Murray were "keeping the bees" ..... I don't know whether Marg or the boys came that day... all I remember was that it was my dad, Murray and me.... at the back of the lot, keeping the bees.....
As I remember it, my dad was the only one who owned "gear" .... you know the gear I mean, the thick, i mean THICK white coveralls, chain mail denim! with the big screened hat, and the gloves that went from his hands to his elbows.....
and he had it all on, on that particular saturday... I guess he and Murray must have been moving the hives, or something.... cause dad had the smoke thingy out.... you know the one I mean.... the little pitcher, that had burning baler twine inside, to create smoke.....
Dad was using it, he said, for calming the bees.... but... it wasn't!

For whatever reason,...................... the bees swarmed....

and there we stood..... Dad, the stalwart, in the chain mail denim, ........

and Murray and me, in our shorts....

If I shut my eyes, and think about it.... I can still hear Murray ..... behind me.....running ..... trying frantically to outrun the bees......

I, on the other hand..... didn't uh...
I ... sigh...
I didn't have to outrun the bees.....

I only had to outrun Murray......

and I was Seventeen..................... and I could......................

and..

I did.

I remember vividly..... in a complete frenzied panic..... reaching the back door of the garage, just a few steps ahead of Murray......

I don't know what, in that moment, made me slam the door in Murray's face.....

and I don't, to this day, know why I locked the door..... but I did!

And when I shut my eyes, I can still see his scared face pressed up against the screen door mouthing the words : UNLOCK THE DOOR, PLEASE UNLOCK THE DOOR.

and there I stood.... trembling, unable to do anything but breathe....

Murray walked...er...rather .... ran around the house to the front door, and without saying a word, came into the house.....

sigh.....

I don't remember how many bee stings Murray got that day, because of me......

what I do remember are two very vivid things:

First: the shame, from my cowardice, that has remained, for more than 25 years .....

Second: the graciousness of a man, who came silently, that day, into the house, and who remained in my life as a friend, and who, after dozens and dozens of times I've seen him and spoken with him in the years since, has mentioned that incident ... not ever once.