TORONTO (Aug. 31) — People who are observant, religiously, will often say “you can question God; you can be angry at God… but you can never dispute the existence of God.” For whatever it’s worth, I ascribe to the aforementioned quote. And, I am far–more spiritual than religious. You will, however, easily pardon the Gaudreau family today if it has immense difficulty believing in a higher power. How could the Almighty — in any denomination — allow two young men, innocently bicycling on the side of a road, to be struck by an allegedly drunk driver and killed on the spot? That sounds like the polar–opposite of omnipotence, doesn’t it? Even more–so when factoring that Johnny and Matthew Gaudreau were in suburban New Jersey to celebrate the wedding of their sister, Katie; scheduled for today and immediately postponed. The whole thing is too cruel and unspeakable to comprehend.

For nearly the past seven years, I have worked at a funeral chapel (Benjamin’s Park Memorial) here in the north part of Toronto. During that time, I have brought into our care people of all ages — from infants to centenarians. It is always heart–wrenching to encounter families of the deceased. It becomes agonizing and piteous when there’s a tragedy. Not three weeks ago, I worked the funeral service of a young boy (Benji Covant) who died suddenly at Camp Northland. Benji was 17 and uber–popular. More than 1,300 distraught souls jammed every inch of our building — inside the chapel; in the foyer; outside, under the main entrance — to pay tribute. The overwhelming majority of them were peers of the deceased; also in their late ‘teens. I’ll be the first to admit that staying in my professional lane was very challenging. The wailing of Benji’s distressed parents was enough to crush any person with a hint of compassion. I remember asking myself, repeatedly; incredulously, “how will these people go on?”

I have the same sentiment today about the Gaudreau family.

Johnny and Matthew left behind parents, siblings, wives and children. They were just beginning the prime years of their journey when the Jeep Cherokee driven by 43–year–old Sean Higgins attempted, as per police reports, to pass a vehicle in front of him. Higgins, allegedly impaired after consuming a half–dozen beer, chose the inside (or shoulder) lane and smashed into the cycling brothers, both of whom were pronounced dead at the scene. At his arraignment, Higgins reportedly sighed with exasperation when informed he’d be spending the weekend in jail. He also allegedly told police he continued to drink after getting behind the wheel of his Jeep. Though Higgins evidently remained at the scene of the tragedy, the apparent indifference he voiced while being indicted has multiplied the anguish by many lengths.* Drunk driving remains an epidemic in the United States. It is nearly impossible to prevent… or to police (until after the fact). Young adults perish every day as a result of another person’s incomprehensible stupidity. The hockey world, today, is anguished beyond measure over another–such incident.
*It’s been learned, unbelievably, that Higgins worked in a drug/alcohol rehab center, from which he was immediately placed on leave.

JOHNNY GAUDREAU OF THE COLUMBUS BLUE JACKETS POSED ON THE ICE AT NATIONWIDE ARENA WITH WIFE, MEREDITH, AND THEIR YOUNG CHILDREN: SON JOHNNY (BORN IN FEBRUARY OF THIS YEAR) AND DAUGHTER NOA (TWO IN OCTOBER). THE COUPLE MARRIED IN SEPTEMBER 2021.

Early today, Meredith Gaudreau somehow found the strength and courage to issue a statement. As per the story: Along with a selection of photos of the couple and their two children — daughter Noa, one, and six–month–old son Johnny — Meredith wrote: “The absolute best dad in the world. So caring and loving. The best partner to go through parenthood with. John never missed a single appointment. Was the best at putting the baby to sleep and the apple of Noa’s eye. I love how much she looks like him. We are going to make you proud. We love you so so so much daddy.” But, the kids will never–again see their father. Or, grievously, retain any first–hand recollection of the man who doted over them. Johnny’s brother, Matthew, leaves behind wife, Madeline, just more than three years since their wedding. And, gut–churningly, it was revealed that Madeline is pregnant with the couple’s first child (due in December). Again, it is not difficult to wonder “where was God?” Or, “how can such an appalling circumstance victimize a beautiful, close–knit family less than 48 hours from a grand celebration?” These are questions without answers. There will never be answers for the families (parents, in particular) of Benji Covant, Johnny and Matthew Gaudreau. Or any others that have so–shockingly lost children through accident or illness.

I remember a Saturday morning in May of 1987. I was watching TV in my apartment near Allen Rd. and Eglinton when the phone rang. “Get ready to hear bad news,” warned the man on the other end. The father of one of my closest friends, Mark Goodfield, had fallen asleep in the family sauna and perished of heat stroke. Jake Goodfield was the youngest and hippest of any of our dads; just a wonderful man who enjoyed baseball and jazz music. We attended numerous Blue Jays games at old Exhibition Stadium. How could he be dead? Adding, immeasurably, to the anguish was that son, Mark, and his bride, Lori Ashley, were to be married within two weeks. Most of Mark’s friends, myself included, spent that Saturday eve close to our parents. Somehow, the Goodfield family held it together and the wedding came off. Certainly not as planned. And, beneath a pall that lingered like a storm cloud.

Just more than 13 years earlier, on the morning of Feb. 21, 1974, Dad awakened me with the inconceivable news that former Maple Leafs defenseman Tim Horton had died overnight in a single–car mishap on the Queen Elizabeth Way (QEW) near St. Catharines. I all–but laughed at my father. “What do you mean ‘he’s dead?’ I just watched him play last night at the Gardens.” Dad then explained that Horton had lost control of his speeding Ford Pantera; was ejected from the vehicle, and perished at the scene of the accident. Though barely scraped or bruised, the Hall–of–Fame defenseman had sustained a broken neck. All I remember about the ensuing hours was being in a complete daze, even while on a high–school ski strip to Horseshoe Valley. Tim Horton dead? It just couldn’t be possible. But, the 43–year–old veteran, after playing superbly for the Buffalo Sabres against his former team, had chosen to drive back across the border — even after consuming alcohol and opioid pain–killers for a broken jaw (which swelled noticeably during the Leafs–Sabres match). It was a prescription for disaster.

If you ever watch a film of Horton being carried by pallbearers to the Hearse after his memorial service, four days later, you will catch a brief glimpse of yours truly. I somehow positioned myself at the rear entrance of the funeral coach and looked on while former Leaf teammates Dave Keon, Allan Stanley, Carl Brewer, Bob Baun, Dick Duff and Billy Harris loaded their late pal into the vehicle (yes, I skipped junior high–school that day).

At only 14 years of age, I was barely able to process the moment. It was my first–such experience.

GRAINY TV IMAGE OF TIM HORTON BEING USHERED TO HIS FINAL RESTING SPOT AT YORK CEMETERY IN TORONTO ON FEB. 25, 1974. ON THE NEAR SIDE OF THE CASKET (FRONT TO REAR) WERE FORMER LEAF TEAMMATES DAVE KEON, BOB BAUN AND ALLAN STANLEY. DICK DUFF AND GEORGE ARMSTRONG CAN BE SEEN ON THE OPPOSITE SIDE. KEON (STILL ALIVE AT 84) HAD PLAYED FOR THE LEAFS AGAINST HORTON AND THE SABRES ONLY HOURS BEFORE THE FATAL ACCIDENT.

But, how does one bury a child, the alpha–fear for any parent? Let alone two sons, simultaneously? As will Guy and Jane Gaudreau in the next few days. After a senseless and clearly preventable tragedy. Like I said, there are aspects of life we can appropriately comprehend. Having a child pre–decease a parent isn’t among them. Our hearts; our DNA; our SOULS cry out to the Gaudreau family. And, to all that have suffered a similar fate.

Never hold back the three most–important words in the English language: “I love you.”

Say it to the people you routinely cherish.

Then, say it again.

EMAIL: HOWARDLBERGER@GMAIL.COM