The weird photo on George Gerhardt’s obituary says a lot about the man.
Obviously the product of computer manipulation, the photo looks like a warped image in a fun house mirror. Now why would anyone want to be remembered like that?
“He was a free spirit,” says his brother Larry Gerhardt, who adds, nothing his brother did surprised him.
Read the obituary George wrote himself and it’s obvious, this wild and crazy guy had an incredible sense of humour; often self-deprecating, always unexpected. George wrote: “Wails of grief, tearing of clothes and gnashing of teeth were heard across the land on news of the passing of quite possibly, Canada's Greatest Living Commercial Artist ... now Canada's Greatest Dead Commercial Artist.”
George might have exaggerated slightly though he was talented, a much sought after creative director and newspaper columnist despite having quit school after grade 10.
“He was a character,” says childhood friend Doug Ratz, a man brimming with stories of their wayward youth. Growing up in a quiet Waterloo neighourhood it was an era Doug explains “could have been really boring but we never let it get that way.” Though their pranks usually backfired. Like the time George devised a plan to dig up a farmer’s turnip field, leaving the bounty of their night’s hard labour strewn along the rows. George, Doug and their equally complicit posse then trotted downtown Waterloo, eating turnip. The lucky farmer woke the next morning to find his crop had been harvested. What a time saver. Then there was the night the boys went yard to yard, cutting all the clothes lines. A homeowner discovered their mischief and called police
“The penalty was that we had to replace all the wash lines, says Doug. “It cost us about $400. Some of the lines had been really old. They all gone new wash lines.” And there was the bomb incident, when the boys used gunpowder from stolen bullets, a mason jar and a wick. They managed to blow out a 10 foot hole in the ground and send an adjacent tree sailing over a fence. Some boys outgrow mischief making. George never did.
His brothers David and Larry recalled George was adept at practical jokes, unpredictable and always adventurous. Growing up one of four kids, George had a restless spirit and after leaving school he left home, touring Canada and the U.S. on a motorcycle before heading to Europe for several months of travel. Years have dulled the memories of exact dates, but his brothers remember George worked in the catalogue division at the T. Eaton Company department store in Toronto, and he also sang in the company’s operatic society. In 1968 he moved to Victoria, British Columbia with his wife Glennis, landing a job as creative director at the Shopper and when the advertising paper closed, he moved to the Vancouver Island Visitor then to the Victoria Times Colonist newspaper where he stayed until retiring earlier this year. George never settled for an ordinary life. He was active in local theatre, volunteered for the jazz festival, took up skating with Glennis and it seems he never wore anything but loud, Hawaiian shirts. George wanted to be noticed but he was also kind and generous.
California artist, David Glover got his start under George’s tutelage and recalls his mentor providing an art studio. David tried to pay rent, but George refused, saying he would be dropping by to work on his own artistic endeavours. In a memorial, David wrote “Funny thing is, years passed and you never did show up. You came to Victoria like a breath of fresh air and I am sure everyone there is gong to miss your artistic flair and that crazy laugh.”
That breath of fresh air was always exploring new ideas and he once used his credibility as an arts columnist to start a letter writing campaign to Star Trek founder Gene Roddenberry. George wanted the television series resurrected and would not be dissuaded. In one response from Roddenberry, George was thanked for inviting Gene and his wife Majel to tea in Victoria and promised, they would take him up on the offer.
Life was good for George, though after Glennis died and he had recovered from heart surgery, perhaps he just needed family. In August, George moved to a basement apartment in Larry’s Kitchener home. In early November, he was diagnosed with cancer and two weeks later, this funny, engaging man died. As for that wacky obituary, well George actually wrote it in 2004 when he was having all his teeth removed. “He was sure he was going to die,” says Larry.
George. Always the drama king.
vhill@therecord.com