The Reminder is making its archives back to 2003 available on our website. Please note that, due to technical limitations, archive articles are presented without the usual formatting.
April 20 was a historic day in the political career of Gerard Jennissen. That is when the Flin Flon MLA delivered his last formal speech in the Manitoba legislature. Here is a condensed version of his address: Mr. Speaker, we all come here to this weird and wonderful place, stuffed to the rafters with egos and ideologies, full of humour and heckling, sometimes serious debate and often not. A friend phoned me the other day and asked me, when does kindergarten start for you guys? And I was a little puzzled by that; I know what he meant though. He meant, when does the Legislature start. It wasn't a very flattering way to ask the question, I guess, but decorum is often lacking in question period, and that's unfortunate because it's only part of the story. Serious work does get done here, but the cameras don't record that. Mr. Speaker, we all have a story to tell here, and I'd like to tell mine. I have lived and continue to live in three different worlds, but they overlap. That is Europe, my first home, in Canada and finally northern Manitoba, which really is a different world. I was born in early 1942 in Slek-Echt, the province of Limburg, which is the southernmost province of the Netherlands. The capital of that place is Maastricht; I was born maybe 20 kilometres north of Maastricht. My very earliest memories of Europe, Mr. Speaker, are memories of war, of fear and of pain. After war we played with the material lying around. I saw many casualties. Many of my friends were hurt; some of them were killed. I'll never forget, it'llÊÊalways haunt me, when my cousin, a baby, was shot Ð her leg was shot by a sniper, almost blew the leg off. See 'Horro...' on pg. 10 Continued from pg. 9 To this day I cannot believe why, in broad daylight, a sniper Ð an English sniper, by the way Ð would shoot at a woman carrying a baby. I guess those clever German Nazis could just disguise themselves. I just can't understand it; maybe it was just some young kid who was trigger happy. Perhaps there is a just war and, if there is one just war among thousands, perhaps it was World War II when we fought Hitler. I could maybe live with that. But this is the forum where we settle our differences, with words. We do it diplomatically. We don't do it with blood and bullets and bombs. My dad was a coal miner, Mr. Speaker, as well as a farmer. I don't recall him ever sleeping. He had a night shift and he farmed during the day. I can never figure out how we ended up with nine kids in our family; he never seemed to ever go to bed. In 1952, we moved to Canada. I was 10 years old. Dad had enough of war-torn Europe and he dragged mother along, who hated every inch of it. He was 45 years old, ready to retire. He'd been in the coal mine since he was 13. His lungs were completely black. He had black lung disease. They still let him into Canada because, I guess, he brought along a lot of young women and one boy, the oldest. That was me. It took four or five days to cross from Rotterdam to Halifax, Pier 21, they herded us onto an immigrant trail and we bounced across this beautiful land. Canadian culture We stopped in Winnipeg, I remember, in that old railway station. Some kid Ð I think he was an Aboriginal kid Ð gave me a bottle of Coke. It's the first Coke I'd ever seen. After the war it wasn't in Europe. Somebody gave me a comic; it was Mickey Mouse. So this was my first introduction to Canadian culture: a bottle of Coke from an Aboriginal kid and a comic book. We did finally get to Senlac, Saskatchewan. It was evening, sometime late in May. The farmer that my dad was going to work for picked us up. It was very rainy, stormy. We ended up in the middle of theÊÊÊprairie in a house that didn't have water, didn't have sewer, no vehicle. The roads were virtually impassable most of the time. In Canada, three more sisters were born, so altogether eight younger sisters, and I often felt, Mr. Speaker, that I was living in a girls' dormitory. So those of you who say I have no sensitivity to women, think again. Lucky Mr. Speaker, regarding my formal education, I've always been lucky to have been instructed by some of the most inspiring and fantastic teachers and professors. In high school, Mrs. Tunbridge opened up for me the world of English literature. And I realized much later on that even though we used to joke about her, Mrs. Tunbridge was the most important influence on my life as a teacher. I spent seven years at the University of Saskatchewan, at both the Saskatoon and Regina campus. I picked up four degrees, several with distinction. My dad used to say to me: "Gerard, you have more degrees than a thermometre, but I don't need someone to tell me what temperature it is; go and drive those fence posts. And he was right." I met Tommy Douglas at the Saskatoon campus. I believe it was the winter of 1963. I was an instant convert. There was no one like Tommy. It does not surprise me at all that more than 40 years later, our little prairie socialist, the father of Medicare, became our most famous Canadian in the country, in a country-wide phone-in vote. When Tommy talked about building the New Jerusalem, he energized us, he lifted us beyond ourselves. I can only describe it as a profoundly religious experience. We all became Tommy's children and we still are Tommy's children. See 'Love...' on pg. 12 Continued from pg. 10 When I was finishing my graduate studies in 1969 in Regina, I met my future wife, Lisa. It was love at first sight and we were married in August of 1970. We both taught in rural Saskatchewan. I taught high school English and later university English. We moved to Cranberry Portage in 1972 where I taught at Frontier Collegiate and Lisa taught at Cranberry elementary school. We have three children, John, who is married to Shannon, a beautiful young lady from Winnipeg. They live in London, England, where Shannon teaches. John is a filmmaker. Last year he won an award at the Bournemouth Film Festival in Britain, and this year he was very happy because his new film has been accepted at the Cannes film festival, coming up this month or next month. My daughter Tracy, I would call her a political activist. She calls herself an actress. No, she calls herself an actor; I call her an actress. I guess I'm old fashioned. She's in New York. She is prepping for her Lady Macbeth role in her next Shakespearean play, which is off Broadway. My youngest son, Andrew, and his partner, Marissa, work in Winnipeg. My son does computer stuff I don't understand anything about and Marissa is a chartered accountant. Mr. Speaker, the third of my overlapping worlds is the world of northern Manitoba. Truly, this is the world that has captured my soul completely. How can it not tug at your soul, this starkly beautiful land of sun and water, rocks and pine? This land that so few southern Manitobans really, truly understand. 'The most beautiful people' In this land live the most beautiful people in the world, and I say this honestly Ð because of their honesty, because they're upright and generous and neighbourly. We know that we cannot survive in that land alone. We have to rely on one another, and we need one another. Yes, sometimes there are political differences. They do not last long, and when the election's over, we all go back to being northerners again. Mr. Speaker, I have no enemies in northern Manitoba Ð just potential friends, potential friendsÊÊwho haven't yet been converted to help us build the New Jerusalem envisioned by Tommy Douglas. In all humility, I give profound thanks to my constituents Ð the constituents of the Flin Flon riding Ð who elected me four consecutive times. I'm not sure if I'm worthy of that honour, but I thank them profoundly for having done so. Only once, Mr. Speaker, and again I'm being extremely honest here, only once did I actually question my decision for having stood for public office. It was probably my most difficult moment. It was the night of my first election. The very popular Tory candidate from Flin Flon came to the Labour Temple to congratulate me and my wife. His wife stood beside him. Her name is Maxine. And I looked into that woman's eyes, Mr. Speaker, I'd never seen such unspeakable pain, and I wished then that I had not won. I wished that they would have won, because I didn't think it was worth it. Hollow victory My whole victory was in ashes; it was hollow. Why do I have to do pain to someone else in order for me to win? And yet that's our system. This is the ugliness of the politics we engage in, because we can't get along, and we do need a party system. I don't like it that way, Mr. Speaker. I'd rather do what they do in Nunavut and have a system where we all agree. Mr. Speaker, I thank my many friends and supporters in Cranberry Portage, in Flin Flon and Sherridon, in Snow Lake, Granville Lake, Leaf Rapids and Lynn Lake. I don't want to leave a single constituent out. Mr. Speaker, let me go to the end, nearing the end, and say that I am extremely grateful for the opportunity of serving this Chamber. But, as I ride into the sunset this October, I want you to remember I'm not dead quite yet. Between now and fall we are entering the proverbial silly season, and we shouldn't really call it that because there two very serious elections coming up. And I want you to remember, we should elect those that are Ð that truly represent the people. We have to choose real democracy, Mr. Speaker, not dollar democracy. We have to ignore the elites because they're already well off. We have to be fair and just, but we have to put the welfare of the many ahead of the profit for a few. Mr. Speaker, we have to fight those that would privatize and pillage the assets of the people because that's what's happening, and they will take control away from the people. We have to stand up, Mr. Speaker, for Tommy Douglas and with Tommy Douglas, and we have to be counted. And, Mr. Speaker, all of us can be part of building the New Jerusalem. It doesn't have to be under the banner of our own party, although, of course, we would hope that. There are people of goodwill everywhere. We should have charity towards all and malice towards none. I think, maybe Abe Lincoln said that. The north is so beautiful. I would urge my brothers and sisters from the south to really try and understand it and realize how much more we need so that the people, particularly in the outlying regions, can have dignity and can live with water and sewer and all the amenities you live with every day and you take for granted. We're not just all talk; we're not just all wind. We want some real things and some real change. I implore you, I appeal to your better instincts. Please, the people you represent, do the real job you need to do. Make democracy count. Help us build this new Jerusalem. Thank you, Mr. Speaker.
