On Family, Hockey and Healing Read online

  Copyright © 2001 by Kimphyl Investments

  All rights reserved. The use of any part of this publication, reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, or stored in a retrieval system without the prior written consent of the publisher — or, in the case of photocopying or other reprographic copying, a license from the Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency — is an infringement of the copyright law.

  Anchor Canada and colophon are trademarks.

  National Library of Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Gretzky, Walter

  On family, hockey and healing / Walter Gretzky.

  eISBN: 978-0-307-36937-6

  1. Gretzky, Walter. 2. Gretzky, Wayne, 1961– Family.

  3. Cerebrovascular disease—Patients—Canada—Biography. I. Title.

  RC388.5.G74 2002 796.962′092 C2002-902930-9

  Photographs from Wayne Gretzky’s marriage to Janet Jones, by Garneau Studios, appear courtesy of the Gretzky family. Photograph of Walter Gretzky on the golf course, by Brian Thompson, Brantford Expositor, appears courtesy of Stephan, Sylvie, Paul and Daniel Namisniak. Photograph of Wayne Gretzky receiving the Order of Canada, by Sgt. Christian Coulombe, Rideau Hall, appears courtesy of the Gretzky family. All other text photographs appear courtesy of Walter Gretzky and his family.

  Published in Canada by

  Anchor Canada, a division of

  Random House of Canada Limited

  Visit Random House of Canada Limited’s website: www.randomhouse.ca

  v3.1

  To my grandchildren:

  Paulina

  Ty

  Trevor

  Tristan

  Nathan

  Austin

  Zachery

  Kayla

  Dillon

  Luke

  Avery

  Mila

  May this inspire you to realize that there is no such word as “can’t.”

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Foreword by The Heart and Stroke Foundation

  Introduction

  chapter one A COUNTRY BOY

  chapter two SMALL-TOWN DAD

  chapter three “PINCH ME, MY SON’S IN THE NHL”

  chapter four STROKE

  Photo Insert 1

  chapter five HOME AGAIN

  chapter six BACK IN THE GAME

  chapter seven REACHING OUT TO OTHERS

  chapter eight A LUCKY MAN

  Afterword

  FOREWORD

  At the Heart and Stroke Foundation of Canada we had to face a hard truth in the mid 1990s. At that time stroke was Canada’s forgotten disease—even though it was the country’s fourth leading cause of death. According to a 1996 Foundation study, almost half of all Canadians said they wouldn’t know what to do if they thought they were having a stroke. And only thirty-nine per cent of us could name one of stroke’s most common warning signs: a feeling of numbness, sudden weakness or tingling in the face, arm and leg. At the same time, new drugs coupled with greater medical knowledge were making it possible to reduce and even reverse stroke’s devastating effects—but only if people knew what was happening to them and sought and received urgent emergency medical help.

  It seemed clear to us that the Foundation needed help to spread the message on stroke and we decided to commit to a major public awareness campaign. Getting the facts out is one thing. But how could we persuade people to pay attention to those facts, and take our message to heart? The Foundation needed to put a special face to stroke—a face that would give Canadians the knowledge and the courage to recognize and react immediately when they suspected stroke. An instantly recognizable face, of a person who would be highly respected and credible in carrying a message of hope for those recovering from stroke, their families, and indeed, for all Canadians.

  Who better to help the Foundation in this mission than Walter Gretzky?

  When he had his life-threatening stroke on October 13, 1991, it seemed as if the whole country was waiting for news about his recovery. As his family members flew in to be at his bedside, the prognosis was grim. But Walter battled back, with the help of excellent medical care, dedicated therapists and the love and grit of his family. Not only was he leading a full life but he was constantly giving back to charities and communities. Would he help us?

  We were nervous as we stood at the Gretzky doorstep in Brantford, Ontario, on a blustery December day in 1999. We were there to make the Foundation’s pitch, but we also knew we were joining a long line of organizations that had sought the endorsement of the Gretzky family to help get their messages heard. What if Walter said no?

  We didn’t know then that the word Walter has the hardest time saying is “No.”

  Walter Gretzky exudes human kindness and caring. If Walter thinks he can make a difference in just one person’s life, he’s there without question. He has a remarkable sense of duty to others, and often pushes aside his own needs and personal reservations whenever a gesture on his part—big or small—has a chance to evoke a feeling of hope or even a smile. After five minutes in his presence, we understood how strangers can quickly become so comfortable with him and why they often turn up on his doorstep to ask him to visit a relative who’s suffered a stroke.

  But he’s humble. He’ll chat about hockey, about coaching kids, about the big events in Wayne’s career, about his pride in all his children and grandchildren. He’ll tell funny stories about things that have happened to him on the road and about the way he likes to tease his wife, Phyllis. But he couldn’t understand why anyone would be interested in the details of his life or think he was some kind of expert on stroke. In his eyes, he was just an ordinary hard-working down-to-earth guy from Brantford to whom some extraordinary things had happened: like coming back not once but twice from brushes with death and raising the only hockey player in the history of the game called the Great One.

  When the Foundation made the case that if Walter went public with his story someone might listen to his message and get to the hospital in time, he agreed to get involved. If his words could help save even one life, it would be worth it. And once Walter was involved, being Walter, he put his whole heart into it.

  That initial public service campaign became a springboard to countless other activities Walter has undertaken for the Foundation in its fight against stroke. From a “Dear Walter” newspaper column, to media tours, to fundraisers, Walter has travelled this country tirelessly to get our life-saving stroke messages heard.

  Overcoming his real humility in order to publicly recount his personal journey back from stroke in this book speaks volumes to his unwavering commitment to helping others. The lasting impact from Walter’s stroke was on his memory, and telling his life story meant once again having to confront what he has lost. One night driving with his publisher from the family farm back to his house in Brantford, he summed it up for her: “I just have to think of it this way. Yes, I’ve forgotten some of the good times, and I’ll never get those memories back. But I must have forgotten a lot of bad times too, and that’s a blessing!”

  There are many people who must be acknowledged for helping to bring this book to life. First and foremost, the Gretzky family— Phyllis, Wayne, Kim, Keith, Glen and Brent, and Ian Kohler, Kim’s husband and Walter’s former rehabilitation specialist. Special thanks must go to Glen, Kim and Ian, who were instrumental in turning the dream of this book into a reality, and had the foresight to realize that Walter’s story could be a source of hope and inspiration for other stroke survivors and their families.

  At Random House Canada, we thank the publ
isher, Anne Collins, and rights and contracts vice president Jennifer Shepherd for their expert counsel at every juncture along the way. We are also grateful to Moira Farr for her ability to help Walter catch the memories of a life on paper.

  At the Heart and Stroke Foundation, we acknowledge the contributions of Dr. Ken Buchholz, Sharon Edwards, Dr. Gail Eskes, Elissa Freeman, Karen Fedun, Rick Gallop, Tim Julien, Gail Leadlay, Mary Lewis, Doug MacQuarrie, Scott Ogilvie, Sylvia Poirier, Dr. Frank Silver, Richard Sutherland and Dr. Michele Turek.

  Diane Black Frank Rubini

  HEART AND STROKE FOUNDATION

  One of Walter’s favourite sayings is, “Every moment of every day is precious to me.” For those of us at the Foundation who’ve come to know Walter, every day he has been our stroke crusader has been precious to us.

  INTRODUCTION

  Whenever people meet me, they are usually very curious to know, “What’s it like being Wayne Gretzky’s dad?” Wayne is my oldest son, of course, a pretty good hockey player whose name may ring a bell for you. He’s retired from the ice now, but he’s still managing to keep himself busy. I guess he inherits that, along with his love of hockey, from his dad. It’s a question I get asked all the time, and in response, I say that mostly it’s been fantastic beyond my wildest dreams. It’s given me the chance to travel widely, meet amazing people and do things that I never would have had the opportunity to do otherwise. I love to tell stories, and believe me, these experiences have given me some good ones! It’s all been a great adventure, and I’ve been happy to share it with my family and friends.

  Naturally, I feel enormous pride, as any father would, in my son’s accomplishments. People often seem to think I had something to do with those, but I always say, when it comes to talent like that, it seems to me there’s some destiny involved. I just did what I could to help it along. And really, the thing I am most proud of is the fact that apart from being a great hockey player, Wayne’s a great person off the ice. As a parent, that’s what you most want to be able to say about your kids, in my opinion. When I talk about feeling lucky, that’s what I mean, more than anything else.

  I’ll be honest with you, though: sometimes all the fame and celebrity that go with being related to the guy they call the greatest hockey player who ever lived have been a challenge—for Wayne, for me and for the whole Gretzky family. It’s a privilege but also a responsibility that has to be handled carefully. Living so close to the spotlight, you can be a magnet for some pretty strange things, and we’ve certainly seen it all: the good, the bad and the ugly. We have tried to take it all in stride and keep things in perspective. Fans of Wayne would be disappointed if we didn’t. We all appreciate that if it weren’t for those fans, we wouldn’t enjoy the kind of life we do.

  But with all the relentless focus on Wayne over the years, people tend to forget the whole picture. The fact is, I’ve been the proud dad of four other great kids, too: Kim, Glen, Keith and Brent, the latter two both talented hockey players in their own right. I’ve also been the grateful husband, for the past forty-one years, of a wonderful woman, Phyllis, and granddad to twelve (at last count) members of the new generation. Away from the limelight, we Gretzkys have a fulfilling family life that we cherish and protect.

  I’d say, more than anything, we are ordinary people who have had some extraordinary things happen to us. Maybe that’s why so many others feel comfortable approaching me and telling me their own stories—and I’ve heard them all, including some very sad ones. Whether I’m at home or on the road, I do what I can to help. Sometimes, I’ve noticed, all people really want is someone to listen to them and to show some caring and compassion. I’m happy to do this whenever I can, especially when I see that a person is having a rough time getting over a big hurdle in his or her life, through no fault of their own. There are many people out there, especially kids, who deserve a helping hand.

  You have to understand, I have a very down-to-earth background. My parents were immigrants to this country. They had no money, they simply came and were grateful to quietly put down roots and work hard all their lives to give their children a good home and a good start in life. I’m really just a country kid at heart. If someone had told me back when I was growing up on our little cucumber farm in Canning, near Brantford, that one day I’d be travelling all over the world, meeting prime ministers and presidents, hobnobbing with all sorts of remarkable people, both famous and not so famous, I would have said, “No way!” Sometimes, I swear to you, I have to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming. Wayne says the same thing. People call him the Great One, but he’s remarked on more than one occasion that he’s really the Grateful One.

  Wayne’s phenomenal success has brought on a lot of public curiosity about us, but still, I have to admit, when people suggested that I write a book telling the story of my life, the idea was a little foreign to me. So much has been written about Wayne, why would anyone be interested in a whole book about me? I’m just a guy who grew up on a farm, worked for Bell Canada for thirty-four years and raised a sport-loving family in a small Canadian town. It doesn’t seem very remarkable.

  But something out of the ordinary did happen to me back in 1991, which changed the course of my life dramatically. I had a brain aneurysm, or stroke, that nearly did me in. Truly, when it happened, I wasn’t supposed to live through the night. I was only fifty-three years old at the time and just a few months into a retirement I had been dreaming about. Believe me, recovering from that stroke wasn’t easy. It was a devastating blow to our family. None of us could have known back then what a long and painful journey it was going to be. Once I’d woken up from the surgery, my work was cut out for me. I literally had to start from square one, trying to figure out who and where I was, and how I was going to get my life back. This is a fairly common problem after a stroke. The worst part was that I lost a great deal of my memory and my capacity to retain new memories. It was not easy coming to terms with this loss, for me or my loved ones. In fact, for awhile it was downright depressing. It took a very long time for me to become independent again. I had to go through many phases of recovery, which was gradual and, at times, very frustrating. I was physically weak at first and extremely confused. The truth is, I hardly remember a thing about the first three years or so after my stroke. I know it was hard on my family. They like to say that I was “sleeping” through that period. When I don’t remember something from that time, they’ll say, “Dad, that happened while you were still sleeping. It happened before you woke up.”

  Well, as luck would have it, the stroke didn’t kill me, and here I am, ten years later, healthy, happy and eternally grateful that I can tell any story at all! I try to be philosophical and accept the reality of what’s happened. You have to do that if you are going to move on from that kind of setback. Difficult as it has been, with the love and support of my family and many other dedicated people in my life, I have regained my independence and have learned how to cope with difficulties I have with short-term memory, and those gaps in my long-term memory, which include most of the ’80s and the majority of Wayne’s career highlights.

  So many memories were lost to me with the stroke! It’s a strange feeling, to stare at a photograph of yourself from a decade or more ago, and say, “Gee, I guess that really happened,” because there I am, but I honestly have no recollection of the event. Sometimes, people approach me in public and, not being aware of my problem, will start talking about a time we met back in the ’80s. Of course, they assume I’ll remember and be able to engage in their reminiscences. But most of the time, I’m sorry to say, I just don’t have access to those memories; they’re really gone for good. It sounds sad, but I look at it this way: it’s unfortunate that there are good things I don’t remember from the past, but then again, there’s a lot of not-so-great things I can’t remember, either. You could say that’s a blessing too!

  People who know me well say I’m a different guy now than I was before the stroke. I guess I’d have to agree with them. The
changes are fairly obvious. For one thing, I used to hate the game of golf, and now you’d have a hard time getting me off the course! Joking aside, I am a lot more outgoing and less serious than I used to be. I wasn’t all that keen on public speaking before, though I would do it when called upon; now I just love being up in front of an audience. I never envisioned my retirement unfolding this way, but I’m busier than ever with speaking engagements across the country, and I love being on the move, meeting new people, sharing my stories and hearing theirs. You cannot imagine what a blessing it is for me to be able to do this. I’m having the time of my life! After my stroke ten years ago, and for several years following, I don’t think I or anyone in my family would have thought it possible that I’d be where I am today. That is what fills all of us with gratitude.

  Most significantly, I’d say the greatest change of all is that I don’t worry about the little things in life the way I did before. And worrying really was a big part of my life for a long, long time. All that just seems to have been swept away, which I consider to be a good thing, too. I enjoy life now, much more than I ever did before. Why not? I guess I have a sense of how short and how precious our lives really are, and I want to get the most out of mine and offer what I can to others I meet along the way.

  I’m grateful, so many years after my aneurysm, to have this opportunity to look back on my life, before and after, piecing together the memories I do have—some, especially from childhood and my early life, are very vivid to me—and, with help, reconstructing all the other events of my life. You might find out some things about me here that will surprise you. I hope you will find this book entertaining and that you’ll enjoy hearing my stories as much as I enjoy telling them.

  ———

  A lot of people helped in creating this book, and I thank them: family members and friends who assisted me with their own recollections of incidents from my early life, and people who were key to my recovery, especially Ian Kohler, my rehabilitation therapist and now a member of our family, too—but I’ll let him tell you how that came about in the chapters concerning my rehabilitation in hospital and at home, in which he played an essential role. In fact, I trust Ian so much, I’ve let him tell much of the story of what happened during the early weeks, months and years of my recovery. He was there, every step of the way, and I can’t thank him enough for all the help he gave me, along with my wife, Phyllis, my daughter, Kim, and my sons, Wayne, Keith, Glen and Brent. I must extend a warm thank-you to Sandi McLean, Phyllis’s sister, who was a pillar of strength and a stabilizing force for Phyllis and Kim at a critical time during my recovery. Without a moment’s hesitation she would drop whatever she was doing to assist in any way possible. A special thanks to Butch Steele, Eddie Ramer and Ron Finucan, who stood by Phyllis and Kim through my days and nights in the hospital, and through the years of my rehabilitation. Other friends and neighbours who helped along the way: Charlie Henry, Warren MacGregor, Mary and Sil Rizzetto and Karen Redpath. I owe a deep debt of gratitude to Laurie Ham, who just happened to be the guardian angel who got me to the hospital in time for treatment, and Dr. Rocco de Villiers, the neurosurgeon at Hamilton General Hospital who saved my life.