The Scout Brigade
of Fort George

Established in 1984

Gone Home

May 3, 2007

Farewell Old Friend

My name is Evan Woodhead. I am honoured to say that George Semple and I considered each other “best friends”, for almost 30 years. I have to say I really struggled with what to say here today, because there were SO many stories.

By way of celebrating George’s life, I would like to share some of my experiences with him, some of the things I learned from him, and some of the things that made him so important to so many people.

First of all, we were Boy Scout leaders together. For years there was a whirlwind of weekly meetings, a weekend camp every month, canoe trips,  hikes, banquets, and a week-long camping trip every summer.

We went to lodge together. He was at my initiation ceremony, sitting beside my father. He was there for my installation as Worshipful Master, and I was there for his. We went through the Scottish Rite and joined the Shrine together. And I never saw him more pleased & proud than the night his oldest son was initiated.

And we did things just for fun. We went fishing, hunting, scuba diving, and boating. We went to his cottage with family, and to movies with friends. Sometimes we would just relax in his basement, and have a good talk.

So, to pick out just a few stories from all that, I thought I would focus on what I think of as George’s “five senses”.

His sense of TRADITION was important to him, in both the little things and the big ones. He and I made annual pilgrimages to the Sportsmen’s Show and the Gilwell reunion. Our Scouts camped on the same site every year at Haliburton. He was a keen student of local history, especially the War of 1812. A big part of his sense of tradition was his commitment to teaching young people, and passing on the lore of life: morals; ethics; and practical matters – how to stay warm in a tent when it’s 40 below outside; how to find firewood in a rainstorm.

His sense of JUSTICE was a little unorthodox. It really came down to a sense of not burdening others (individuals or society in general) with cleaning up after you. In fact, giving a little more than you take. Cleaning up your campsite, and leaving some firewood ready to hand for whoever uses it next. For example if you caught a fish, before you could reel it in, he would start reminding you of the rule – “You caught it, you clean it.”  He also had an unusual kitchen rule at camp. It is almost a universal arrangement for one camper to cook and another to clean, but George put the cooks in rotation – everyone took their turn, and the cook cleaned up his own pots. You know, he was right. There weren’t half as many dirty pots when the cooks had to clean them.

His sense of DUTY was all about community service. This was his job, and also his passion on his own time. Most of us will never know all the things he did to keep us safe. There were high-speed chases, shoot-outs, and undercover drug busts. I know that he went to New York to bring back fugitives so many times that the U.S. Marshals developed a lot of trust in him. They eventually made him an honorary U.S. Marshall so they could arm him to the teeth and bring him along on the arrests. He brought a deep wisdom about human nature to this work. As an example, he told me how he would find out if a car was stolen when he stopped a driver on the highway. If it was a nice, shiny, well kept car, he would come up to the window and say “Gee that’s a real shame about that big dent in your bumper – it looks fresh, did it just happen?” If the driver was the owner, he would yelp and jump out to see, so George would apologize (“Oh, sorry, it must have been the way the light was hitting it”). If the car was stolen, the driver would make up a story to explain the non-existent dent. Off the job, his community service was also all about decades of service as a Scout leader and a Mason, and both those sides of his life were precious to him.

I can’t leave out his sense of FUN. I will always think of him in terms of the OPTIMISM, ENERGY and ENTHUSIASM with which he threw himself into every worthwhile project. George was always ready for adventure. We have traveled as far as 1,000 miles to go fishing. Camped in 40-below temperatures. Taken a dozen kids on 3-day canoe trips. Re-lived the battle of Fort George.

And first and foremost among all these was his sense of LOYALTY.

Loyalty for George was the cornerstone of his being. If he considered you a friend, that was absolute. If he promised to do something, you could take it to the bank. If you needed help, there he was. My wife’s car broke down in Toronto one winter night, and I had to come in from Oakville to pick her up. When I got there, who was with her? George. He knew she was stranded, and took it on himself to make sure that she was okay. A mutual friend of ours had to go to Vancouver for his father’s funeral, and George perceived that he needed support, so at the drop of a hat George went with him.

I think only Brenda knows the full extent of this support he gave his friends. How many times the phone rang and George sailed off on a rescue mission.

That loyalty wasn’t given freely. There were tests, and the bar was high. If he was your friend, you can be sure it meant that he considered you an honourable person, and that is high praise.

He also had defense mechanisms. Especially in the early days, he did not like to tell people he was a police officer, because virtual strangers expected him to do them favours. So he told them he was a toothpick salesman. I have heard his sales pitch and it was pretty impressive. He would launch into a spiel about the superiority of his toothpicks. Acme toothpicks. The real deal. Old school. Wood. None of those plastic wannabe-toothpicks I’ll have you know. Then, if he really found someone pesky, he would try to sell them a truckload of toothpicks.

The other side of that loyalty was forgiveness. He knew I didn’t like bagpipe music, so whenever we encountered it, he would lament – “Pity the man who hears the pipes, and was not born in Scotland.” This mystified me at first, since George was born in Toronto. Finally I figured out that it was his way of forgiving me for not liking the bagpipes. It sort of translated as “The barbarian Sassenach can’t be expected to appreciate the finer things in life. Like the bagpipes. But he’s our friend, so we have to take him as he is.”

One of the last times I talked to him was when he phoned me from the hospital. His speech was badly slurred and I couldn’t make out what he wanted. I apologized but simply couldn’t understand him. He said “that’s okay, buddy” and he rang off.

That was the measure of the man. Always ready to help his friends. Always ready to forgive their human failings.

A notice has been published in the Toronto Star

 SEMPLE, George

  SEMPLE, George Peter  (Retired Senior Constable, O.P.P., Simcoe Lodge No. 644, A.F. & A.M. and Leaside Shrine Club) Passed away at the Trillium Health Centre, Mississauga on Thursday, May 3, 2007, in his 69th year. Beloved husband of Brenda. Loving father of Dayle and Lorne. George was a Constable with Downsview and Port Credit O.P.P. detachments for 29 years, and an active member with Scouts Canada and the Masonic Lodge. Friends may call at the Turner & Porter Yorke Chapel, 2357 Bloor St. W., at Windermere, east of the Jane subway, on Tuesday, May 8, 2007 from 2-4 and 7-9 p.m. A Masonic service will be held Tuesday evening. Funeral service will be held in the chapel on Wednesday, May 9, 2007 at 1 p.m. Interment Glendale Memorial Gardens. For those who wish, donations may be made to the Heart and Stroke Foundation of Ontario.