I learned a few months ago that my high school friend, Bruce Hill, had died. I sent a short e-mail of consolation to his wife, who I have met but did not know well, but that does not seem to be enough to do to remember such an extraordinary person. He was quite important in my life. We were not best friends but there were certain things we did together that I think fundamentally changed the way I looked at the world. Let me tell a couple of short anecdotes about him that may give you a sense of him.
We went to a private school, St. Michaels, in Victoria together for grades 8-10 (maybe only 8-9?). After this he went on to Oak Bay High and I stayed on. Anyway, at St. Michaels we had daily PE ("gym" in private school speak). One day a week was enforced cross-country running and other days there were various options. When it was time to sign up for the Spring term, Bruce found our little group (including Stephen Dancy, Paul Modos, possibly Sean Neely although I am not sure if he was still there at that time and maybe some others I am forgetting - apologies) in the library and said, "hey, let's sign up for cross-country running on Tuesdays". I should say that Tuesdays were not the mandatory cross-country running day, that all of us tended to the nerdy rather than the athletic side of things, and that therefore cross-country running was viewed by all of us as a rather gruelling affair. However, Bruce talked us into it. He hinted at a secret plan, and anyway, if you have ever met Bruce you know he has a real charm and charisma. This charisma didn't work on everyone, for example my parents didn't think much of him, but he certainly had our number. It turns out that Tuesday gym for our grade was right before lunch. The few jocks that had signed up for cross country to actually run loped off happily. When we realized we were basically unsupervised for the hour before lunch with "permission" to be off school property, Bruce's brilliance became apparent. You might imagine that we went off and did drugs or got into some other sort of trouble, or tried to do this same scam every gym period. Actually, it was just Tuesdays and we took our lunch up the local hill, "Mount" Tolmie, and ate our lunch outside and talked. I don't remember much of what we talked about, but it was kind of intellectual I guess. I look back now with the insight of having my own teenage children who try out various scams and I am sure that some of the school staff must have known of our clever scheme. I think they looked and saw that it was harmless and that we really had fun (partly with the thrill of breaking the rules), smiled and looked the other way.
My father had a rustic cabin in northern British Columbia on Babine Lake. This is a long, glacier formed lake stretching north of the road from Price George to Prince Rupert. My parents were divorced and I visited my dad there basically every year from when I was 10 or so. This continued into my university years at the University of Victoria, when I would try to have the last week of August free to visit there before the term started. For several of these years, Bruce joined me on these trips. My "other" parents also didn't think much of him, but I sure enjoyed having a buddy there. Bruce was also studying at UVIC and I believe his major was Political Science, with some thought that he might go on to Law. However, he had an increasing interest in music at that time, that later became his passion and his career. He learned to play the organ, began composing, and found some placements as church organist and choir director. I have read some of the other postings about Bruce after his death and it is clear that he made a real contribution to the religious music scene in Toronto where he lived for most of his adult life. Anyway, back in the early 80s he was just beginning this path. For several years, Bruce and I took the ferry to Vancouver, then the bus up to Kamloops (about four hours) where my father lived. The next day we would all go up to Babine in their RV (about ten hours). One year, Bruce missed the beginning of the trip (I don't remember why) and so missed on the ride for the longest part of the journey. We assumed he just wouldn't make it up that year and settled in without him. However, starting a day late he took the bus all the way to Prince George from Vancouver, then the train to Burns Lake, the closest town to where my parents' cabin is. There, he hit a bit of a snag. It is a 45 minute drive from town out to the lake on a logging road. Undeterred, he went to the local United Church and knocked on the minister's door. It turns out that the church shared an organist with another church (in Terrace I believe) too far away to allow him to make services on the same Sunday so he alternated between them. It turned out that the coming Sunday would be musically silent and so Bruce bargained his playing for a ride out to Pendelton Bay. It was not an empty promise. He worked on my father to drive him out that Sunday and dutifully played for the service. His playing improved steadily over these years. At that time, he was not a great player, but certainly enthusiastic.
I saw from the other postings about Bruce that many people knew him as full of energy and enthusiasm, always willing to participate and help out. I will remember him fondly. He will be missed.
