The following was written by University of St. Michael’s College Interim Principal Mark McGowan as part of his weekly message to his staff.
Each Name was a Life
This missive comes a few days earlier than usual… Normally I would not disturb you during Reading Week, but Remembrance Day is this week, and I could not let it pass without some thoughts about the College and the students and alumni who lost their lives in the major wars of the 20th century. Each year I try to attend our ceremonies of remembrance at the Slype, the walkway between More and Fisher Houses, which is where the names of those who “fell” are inscribed. I regret that I am unable to be on campus tomorrow but would like to leave you with a few thoughts about the “last names.”
The last name on the list of young men commemorated for their service in World War I is Fred Webster. Early in my teaching career at SMC, I had a mature student in my history of Christianity class who offered me a story about his mother’s favourite uncle, this same Fred Webster, who coincidentally was part of a much larger research project in which I was engaged. Fred was a student at St. Michael’s College who suffered from a debilitating heart condition. When he tried to enlist locally in the Canadian Expeditionary Force, he was refused on medical grounds. He tried many times to join his classmates overseas, but every time the refrain from recruiters was the same: rejection. On the streets of Toronto, Fred was berated by passersby as a young man who was a shirker, not doing his bit for “King and Country.” They had no idea of the story of his repeated attempts to enlist and his repeated rejections. In January 1918, however, when the Allies were desperate for reinforcements in a war that was not going very well, Fred was accepted and was sent to the military training camp near the Toronto Exhibition grounds. As a well-educated recruit who worked in banking, Fred was promoted to Acting Sergeant in March. During the mandatory swim near Hanlan’s Point, however, Fred had a massive heart attack and drowned. At age 24, his war ended in Canada.
When I arrived at St. Michael’s in 1991, I attended my first Remembrance Day ceremony at the Slype. Among the group of students and Faculty I noticed a woman standing at attention close to the opening of the Memorial. She remained for some time after the ceremony had ended. In the months to come I saw her from a distance, from time to time, in Alumni Hall. The following year, on November 11, she was at the Slype again. I asked my colleague, Mimi Marrocco, who this older lady was, standing at a distance from the group. Mimi told me her name was Sister Mary Zimmerman, CSJ. She had been the Executive Director of St. Michael’s Hospital (1963–85) and was currently assisting Father Bob Madden in Alumni Affairs. Then Mimi added that she came here every year to remember her husband, Maurice Dier Zimmerman, the last name on the World War II list. An alumna of SMC, Bernice Veronica Lannan (Sr. Mary) met Maurice at St. Basil’s Parish, where she was actively engaged in parish activities. They were married in 1943 at St. Basil’s, just before Maurice shipped out with the RCAF. He never returned; his squadron was stationed in the Middle East, and he was declared missing, later killed in action, when his plane crashed during a raid over Greece in July 1944. Four years later, after having worked in the pharmacy at St. Michael’s Hospital, the widowed Bernice (Sr. Mary) decided to join the Sisters of St. Joseph where she had a distinguished career, including an associate professorship in U of T’s Faculty of Medicine. She insisted on keeping her married name in religious life. Each year she ventured to the Slype to honour her Maurice. She died in 1994, faithful to a love that never ceased.
Every time I pass through the Slype, I remind myself: Each name was a life. Each life was a story. Lest we forget.
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