I also attend church regularly when I’m at home. Our whole family feels comfortable there, because it’s the same church we’ve been going to for years, and everyone knows us as ordinary parishioners, not famous people. There’s no pretense there. Everyone needs a place like that to keep them grounded, and to keep in perspective what is truly important in life: family, community and nurturing the spiritual side of yourself. Ellen particularly enjoys it, because people at church are very accepting and kind and treat her with great respect.
Our church is special to us, and I like to help out with the charity work they do, their fundraising events and chores. Every year, we have Wayne Gretzky calendars made up, and I always donate lots of them to the church. I appear at charity auctions and drive shipments of donated toys and supplies to depots from where they’re delivered to kids in Third World countries. There’re so many things to do when you really start to get involved. Sounds crazy, but in a way, I find this kind of work the opposite of stressful. I’ve got a good friend, Betty Kelso, who works in the church office, and I love to duck in there unexpectedly through the back way now and then to chat with her. That’s great downtime for me. I go during the week, when there’s no one around and I can put up my feet and relax between errands and appointments. It’s a wonderful change of pace from all the public appearances. And Betty spoils me. She knows I love orange suckers, and she always has a supply on hand just for me. No wonder I keep coming back!
I like to do things on the spur of the moment. Bob Coyne and I were at the church one time, and the minister was mailing out a big bunch of letters for all the parishioners. He was lamenting about the high cost of postage, so on an impulse, I said, “I’ll take them.” Bob and I drove all around the city and hand-delivered about 140 envelopes. I got a kick out of people’s reactions. We would knock on the door, and people would come and say, “Oh, it’s Walter Gretzky!” I would shake their hands, give them their letter and say, “I’m just delivering this for the church.” We had so much fun, we did it twice. Of course, we could have simply gone to the post office and paid for the postage ourselves, because the money we put out in gas far exceeded the cost of stamps! But you know, the people enjoyed it, which made it worth doing. I’ve volunteered to do it whenever they want. Now I gather that word has spread through the church that Walter delivers letters.
But I’m not all work and no play, despite what some people might tell you. The other place where you’ll often find me when I’m not on the road, is the golf course. I’m always itching to get out there once the snow has melted, and will golf right through until the ground freezes up again. On one level, it’s good fun and exercise—as I’ve said, I like to keep moving. But I think maybe there’s more to it than that; it has helped in my recovery by building up my confidence. I started out as a non-golfer, and my friends still tell me I’ve got the craziest swing known to mankind. But it works for me. I know some people suspect me of lying about my scores, but this is where a memory problem comes in handy: I can always claim that I simply forgot! The course is a place for me to kid around with the guys, and I’m sure Phyllis enjoys having me out of her hair on those long summer days. I like to tell my stories in the clubhouse, and in a way, it’s a testing ground for my speeches. There are always groups of people there willing to listen, and I’ll gauge from their reaction whether a story is one that will work for an audience. I’m always trying to perfect my speaking style and find new material that will be entertaining to a crowd.
I’ve met some remarkable people in my travels and made some great friends wherever I’ve gone, but sometimes you don’t even have to leave your street to find a special friend in this world. Take Daniel Eickmeier. I met him on Halloween night, about seven years ago. Daniel was eight years old at the time. I didn’t know his family; they were new to the street. They had moved to Brantford from Windsor, so that Daniel could attend the W. Ross Macdonald School, where they have terrific programs for kids like him— programs you can’t find anywhere else. As well as being visually impaired, he has some motor problems that make walking difficult for him, so his mother took him out trick-or-treating separately from her other two kids.
That first Halloween, Daniel stood at our door in his costume and started asking me questions about myself. He knew something had happened to me, but he wasn’t sure what it was. At one point— I’ll never forget his tone of voice or how he worded it, so thoughtful and mature for a boy of only eight—he said, “Well, Mr. Gretzky, how long was it after your medical mishap that you were able to speak to your friends and your family?” That’s when I figured out what he was doing. He wasn’t asking about me; he was asking about his dad. We were aware, you see, that Daniel’s father, who was only in his early forties, had recently had a stroke and couldn’t yet talk. Daniel was obviously wondering when his dad was going to talk again. Talking with his dad was crucial to Daniel, because he can’t see.
I was deeply touched by this intelligent, curious and brave little boy, and decided to get to know Daniel and his family better. Now he and I are great buddies. I like to bring him souvenirs from wherever I’ve travelled. Sometimes, too, I’ll go down and visit late at night, when Daniel and the other kids are in bed, just to have a chat and cup of tea with his mum and dad, who are great people. I think at first, they wondered who the heck was knocking on their door that late. But now, they know it’s just me, and we enjoy our conversations. I just like to see how they are doing, because although they are very strong people who handle their difficulties beautifully, I know they’ve got a lot on their shoulders, and want them to know I am there for them.
Daniel’s met Wayne, too, and is a great fan. We’ve even gone golfing together, and he is a key part of our annual fundraising tournament for the CNIB. There’s a nice painted portrait of Daniel and me out on the golf course, right in the foyer of the W. Ross Macdonald School. They’re as proud of him there as I am. We talk about all kinds of things. He’s a teenager now, and I’m sure he has a very bright future ahead of him, because he’s so smart. He’s into ham radio and communicates with people all over the world.
I love to do special things for him whenever I can. There’s one time I’ll always remember. Back in 1997, on a beautiful September day, I decided to take Daniel to a Blue Jays game. He is their number one fan. He listens to every game on his radio headset. Tom and Jerry, the voices of the Jays, are special to him. He knows them like friends, because they’re in his head all the time. So I called Bob Coyne, who knows Daniel from the school, and told him, “I’d love to take him down to the game. You know a bit more about travelling with blind kids than I do. Would you come with us?” Bob said sure, and away we went to the game in Toronto.
Now, Robbie Alomar, one of Daniel’s favourite players, had been traded to the Baltimore Orioles, and was coming to play against the Jays that night. So I phoned Tom Bitove, Wayne’s partner in the restaurant, which is right near the SkyDome and where they know Robbie, and they made arrangements for Daniel to meet him. I wanted it to be a big surprise. We had an early supper at the restaurant (Tom and all the staff there always treat us so well they make us feel like we own the place) and then went over to SkyDome. It was late afternoon when we got there, batting practice time. We looked around and sure enough, there were the restaurant people standing with Robbie. We didn’t say a word to Daniel as they ushered us out onto the field, and we walked right up to Alomar. He leaned down and said, “Hi, Daniel.” Well, Daniel knows the players’ voices, and his face just lit up. “Robbie Alomar!” he said. You could see what a thrill it was for him. Robbie talked to Daniel and gave him an equipment bag filled with baseballs, caps, pins and other baseball paraphernalia, items signed by all of the Baltimore Orioles. Then, Robbie leaned down and said to him, “Daniel, you know what I’m gonna do for you tonight? I am going to hit a home run, especially for you.” I was thinking, “Uh-oh, what if he doesn’t!” But with that, he gave Daniel a rub on the top of his head and said, “I’ve got to go to batting practice n
ow. I’ll see you later.”
At that moment, Brian Williams from CBC Sports, who was there to cover the game, saw me, came right over and said, “Walter Gretzky, how are you? What are you doing here?” I said, “I brought my friend Daniel to meet Robbie Alomar.” Brian saw that Daniel was blind and said, “I’ll bet you’d also like to meet Tom and Jerry. I can take you up there right now.” So we left the field and took a special elevator up to the broadcasting booth. Tom and Jerry let Daniel recite the lineup that night, and then they showed him how they do their special effects. They let him play with all the gizmos and gadgets in the broadcasting booth, and he had a wonderful time. As we were leaving, one of them asked us, “Where are you guys sitting?” And I said, “Exactly behind home plate, front row.” And he said, “Okay, we’re going to alert the TV crew, and they’re going to put you on the big screen several times tonight, and we want to mention Daniel’s name in the broadcast.” We left the booth and took our seats.
It was a regular baseball game, nothing special. In the seventh inning, Robbie came to the plate. He’d been up two or three times prior to that and had got a single twice, I think, but no home run. Here in the seventh inning, he was up again, and he faced the pitcher, who slid the ball down, and bang, Robbie knocked it right out of the park. The interesting thing to note here is that at that particular time in Robbie Alomar’s career, he was being ostracized by fans for a spitting incident with an umpire. And so he was not exactly popular in Toronto. But the crowd around us had heard that Robbie Alomar was going to hit a home run for Daniel, and when that happened, there was a standing ovation just in the little zone where we were sitting. After he finished running the bases, he came across home plate and ran back to that rope-type mesh that was between us and the playing field. He reached through, grabbed Daniel by the hand and said, “Daniel, that was for you.”
BOB COYNE: I thought I was gonna die, right there on the spot. No one other than Walter Gretzky could have orchestrated that. I certainly couldn’t have produced an evening like that for a little boy. No way. Not many of us could. But Walter, because of who he is, has access to an awful lot. There are many other Canadians who have as much standing as Walter, but they don’t use it the way he does. Walter probably didn’t even want to go to the ball game himself. But there he was that evening, to provide a thrill of a lifetime for a kid, and he did it.
I’ve got another special friend, Jesse, who is also visually impaired and a former student of the W. Ross Macdonald School. He’s in his twenties now, but our whole family got to know him well while he was at the school. A few years ago, we had one fabulous time together, thanks to Wayne and my (second) favourite game, golf.
Every year, at the CNIB golf tournament, we have a charity auction of various prizes. Gino Reda, the sportscaster, always moderates. He is a wonderful guy, a wholehearted participant in the event, who has been very generous with his time and efforts over the years. One of the items up for auction that particular year was an all-expenses-paid vacation for four to St. Andrews Links in Scotland. Now, golf courses don’t get any better than that, and everyone knew it was a real plum of a package and deserved some good bids. But bidding was slow. Wayne was there, of course, and thought, “What the heck, I’ll buy up this one.” He wanted to send me, Gino, Ron Finucan and Jesse for one special week of golfing we’d never forget.
It was funny, because after the announcement that Wayne had bought the package for the four of us, Gino’s young son ran over to his dad, who was busy with something else, and shouted “Dad, Dad, Wayne Gretzky is sending you over to golf in Scotland!” Gino thought his son had simply gotten mixed up, and said to him, “No, no, that’s not happening.” When he finally was told that it was definitely happening, he just couldn’t believe it.
That was one memorable vacation for all of us, I’ll tell you. Especially for Jesse, because he fulfilled two big dreams on that trip. He had never been on an airplane, and he’d never been to the ocean. And he was always saying that among all the things he wanted to do in his life, flying in a plane and going to the ocean were right up there on his “must do” list.
St. Andrews itself is spectacular, right on the North Sea. Every day, we’d drive to the course along those narrow, windy roads, and I particularly enjoyed the sight of the sheep and their lambs scampering around on the green hillsides. It was quite magical. Our accommodations were incredible, as were our meals, although there was one dinner that didn’t sit well with me, and Gino and Ron don’t let me forget it. I was so taken with the peaceful sight of all the lambs on the hillsides. But one evening, unbeknownst to me, we were served lamb. Naturally, it’s a specialty in the fine restaurants there, but I wasn’t clued in to that. I began my meal and then asked, “What’s this we’re eating, anyway?” When someone said “lamb,” I was stunned. I didn’t want to be rude, but I really could not bring myself to eat it. I just put down my knife and fork and wouldn’t eat any more, claiming I wasn’t hungry. But Gino and Ron knew I was thinking about all those little lambs I’d seen, and asked the chef to prepare something else for me to eat.
Ron and Gino had died and gone to golf heaven, of course, and I was having a pretty good time there, too. But in the first couple of days, my chief concern wasn’t playing golf; it was making sure that Jesse got the chance to realize his second dream. It was fine to be near the sea, but from the course, all he could really experience was the sound of it.
My buddies tease me about that trip to this day. I really would not let up until I had figured out a way to get Jesse near the water. At one end of the course there were some rocks along an incline to the shore, very rugged, but if you went gingerly you could walk along until you got down to the sea. So one morning, I just said, “Come on Jesse, let’s go.” Ron and Gino wondered how the heck we were going to do it, and followed behind us, as I led Jesse along by the hand. They were worried that we were going to fall in, since I can sometimes list to one side and Jesse couldn’t see his footing. It was fairly precarious and slippery, but I was determined. And in the end, we did it. When we finally got down to the sea, I made sure Jesse got to dip his hand in the water, to get a real sense of where he was. I said, “Here we are, Jesse. Now you can really say you’ve been to the ocean.” It was a special moment for Jesse and for all of us, I think.
When you go to the W. Ross Macdonald School, you’ll see its motto on the wall: The Impossible Is Only The Untried. It dates back to the late 1800s, but no one knows who wrote it. I think it is an excellent motto for anyone to have, whatever their capabilities. I believe we all have to challenge ourselves every day to be our best. Sometimes, what seems impossible really is only something that you haven’t tried. No one who saw me back in the days after my stroke would have believed I’d be here today, offering you these thoughts, sharing with you a few glimpses of my life. Every day, it seems, something new happens that gives me a fresh perspective on life, and I have to say I’m happy to be alive.
My involvement as a spokesperson for the Heart and Stroke Foundation has also brought me many wonderful moments, just connecting and relating with people who are going through similar problems as mine.
FRANK RUBINI: I remember one woman in particular from Trenton who wrote the Heart and Stroke Foundation to thank us for recruiting Walter as our stroke spokesperson. She had been going about her usual day, driving somewhere, when she started to feel uncomfortable. She had no history of heart disease or stroke in her family, but what she was feeling reminded her of the signs and symptoms of stroke described in a front-page article in her local newspaper. Only days before, Walter and I had been near her town as part of a national media tour for the Foundation. A journalist from the local paper covered the story and listed the signs and symptoms of stroke in the article.
Because of the information she learned from that article, she decided to exit the highway and seek help. She pulled into a strip mall and parked her car in front of her favourite butcher shop. As soon as she opened the car door and went to get out
, she collapsed, and a person from the shop ran out to help. She was rushed to hospital and treated with a new time-sensitive drug treatment for ischemic strokes (caused by a blockage in a blood vessel in the brain) and made a near-perfect recovery.
I found out later that this woman was only forty-seven years old, with four children. Walter and I still talk about how different that woman’s life would have been if Walter hadn’t made that speech in Kingston.
Walter never wants to admit that he has such an impact on people’s lives, but he does. I travel with him and I witness the effect he has on people and how they listen so intently to every word he says. I have to admit that I live my life differently as a result of knowing Walter, his family and their philosophy of life.
As far as I’m concerned, no one should ever have to feel that they are alone in their struggle toward recovery. When that feeling of isolation sets in, it’s easy to give up, and that’s the last thing you should do. In reaching out and touching people, giving them some hope, I enjoy my role immensely. Helping others to hang in there and figure out how to get over all the obstacles, which I know intimately because I’ve had to overcome them myself, is what it’s all about, in my opinion.
On Family, Hockey and Healing Page 20