Radioactive

Toronto to Tuscaloosa

On The Radio: September Song, Willie Nelson
In The Blood: Lisiniprol, Omeprazole

                                                                              Cancer Update

                 Summer 2017

Only a year ago, here I was.  Some pretty drastic head surgery and the removal of cancer on my neck.  I have not included pictures of the squamous cell damage as they are difficult to view.  I will attach them on a future blog, when I am able to offer you the option of seeing them.

The results of this operation were excellent.  My head looked the best it had been in several years and  it was completely cancer free.

I am showing this little collection to provide a sense of time between operations.  This summer, I had a recurrence of cancer on my scalp.  The biopsy showed in situ melanoma, and excision was done on June 26th.  The subsequent pathology showed there were still margins with cancer.  On July 31st, a further surgery was done to extract the cancerous margins.  The pathology was shocking to the surgeon and to us.  Hidden in the in situ melanoma was an almost invisible invasive melanoma.

The reason I use the word "shocking", is twofold.  Dr. Harrington was puzzled because the melanoma bordered on a previous skin graft, where the donor site was my thigh.  There is no evidence of cancer there, now, or before.  And with all the tests I have had every other month, MRIs, CAT scans, PET scans, blood work, etc.,  melanoma has not been evident.

So let me be clear.  I do not believe that I am in mortal danger.  I do understand that further surgeries are coming and they will be messy.  I was just advised by Dr. Harrington's nurse, Laura, that I  am now scheduled for an operation at Moffitt on Wednesday morning.  After a few more weeks, if we finally get rid of the melanoma, another skin graft on my head is inevitable.  I believe this might be the fourth - and my head is not large enough to handle that much excavation.

Monday August 20

In 1995 I was contacted by  Affiliated Paper Company, headquartered in Tuscaloosa, Alabama.  The only previous contact I had had with them was a visit they had made to see me in Toronto, several years earlier.  I had been running Price Daxion, a paper and sanitary supply business, with 11 locations across Canada.  They wanted our business to partner with them in a marketing enterprise, whereby we would share in national and international supply contracts and share increased supplier rebates.  I could not see the advantages for us at that time, as most of our suppliers were Canadian based and Affiliated had no contacts with them.  In any event, they came back to recruit me to run their business.  For whatever reason, they liked how we treated them and how they were turned down.  How often have you heard of someone being hired because they wouldn’t do business with you?  This episode was a good indicator that you can make an unpopular decision and still not lose your appeal.  It does bolster your case if your position is explained clearly and logically with your emotions in check.   These meetings, and how they were conducted, were instrumental in the creation of a new chapter in my life and that of my family as well.


The courtship was entirely southern in every way.  I was invited to meet the owners and management  in Atlanta for two visits, several weeks apart.  Then Kath was invited to join me for a visit to Tuscaloosa, where she was introduced to the shareholders, wives, family, friends and to the town itself.  The specific job offered was never mentioned over the course of three days. While Kath was out and about, shuttled  here and there by Edith Keith, I visited the office and was given introductions to the senior personnel and access to all of the sales and marketing staff and most importantly, the financials.  The business had good “bones”, but ineffective management and a lack of a cohesive and achievable direction.  There was a marketing component which was comprised of a national account business along with a supplier rebate negotiation, application and tracking component.  Then there was a separate chemical business and 13 distribution houses stringing throughout the southeast from Texas to Florida.  It was the proverbial goose whose golden egg, this time, was mired in a constricted cavity.  I was confident  I could provide the strategic and disciplinary impetus to allow that goose to give birth.  The question still was, “What, exactly, was the position, the offer, and would Kath leave her nearly idyllic life in Toronto behind to make a move like this”.  And that presupposes that the offer would be of a scale that would entice me to leave Canada, my history, friends and business associates behind.  What kind of opportunity, country and people would that take?

We were staying at the North River Lodge, just outside the city, in a gated community, overlooking a large lake, on a private golf club. It was an amazingly beautiful place, with rolling hills, tracts of forest and trees in bloom.  The setting was captivating.

Every time Kath and I got a chance to be together, alone in our room, usually before dinner, we would ask each other what, if anything, either of us had learned about what, exactly, this job was.  Neither of of us had a clue.  How ridiculous.   I told Kath that about an hour of every morning was  spent with Bob, in his office.  His talk was meandering and a significant portion of that time was setting plans in place for lunch and dinner.  Dining was front of mind.  That should have been a clue that he had clearly made his decision about my abilities.   We just had to eat our way to the finish line.  My girl and I laughed ourselves to tears at the absurdity throughout each of our private conversations.  We were having a great time, but were still in the dark as to where this was leading.

At our last dinner with Bob and Edith Keith, and Jack Matthews, Bob asked if he could have a few moments alone with Miss Kathy.  I learned later, that he asked her if she would consider moving to Tuscaloosa as he was going to offer me what he thought to be, “the best job in the world”.  He knew that I would never take the job, or worse, stay for only a short while, if she was not fully on board.    The man knew how to cover all the bases.  The next morning, as we were just leaving the lodge on our way back to the Birmingham airport, several deer sprang across the road directly in front of us. Someone must have said, “Cue the deer".   It seemed all too contrived.  Whoever wrote this play did not miss an opportunity to impress us.  I would realize, much later, those deer would be the bane of our flowerbeds.  But at that precise moment, they were magical.        

Jack Matthews, the hardest-working, most loyal company person one could ever meet, was chauffeuring us.  He had been instrumental in my recruitment process and wanted to know if we had enjoyed our visit.  He really wanted to know if I was planning to accept the job, and being the great salesman he was, continued to press the point.  I told him I was seriously considering it, but I joked that I was worried that if I said no,  he might just dump us by the side of the road to fend for ourselves.  He laughed with all the gusto he could give and slammed the palm of his big hand on the dashboard.  And Jack had one of the world's most honest laughs.

 Jack became a great friend, and his entire family was exceptional.  There was such love in that house and it was open and alive for all to see.  He lived his life to the fullest - all the time - every day.  Opera, poetry and sports were his passions. He was stats crazy.  He loved to debate "the best" of everything.  Players of every position in every sport.  Best games, teams and plays.  Best singers, arias and composers .  He plucked entire poems from thin air and delivered them with an unmatched  passion.  He was such a joy to be with.  He remains to all who knew him, a model husband, father and friend.  He practiced his faith proudly and was an inspiration to us all.

 He talked continually about how great this job would be for me until we eventually reached the Birmingham Airport.  Jack sincerely wanted me to be his new boss and to make his business hum again.  I still didn’t tell him.  I still did not know.

  Jack, singing with the band and hugging one of his beautiful and adored daughters, at his retirement in Ireland.  His old buddy, George Van Fossen, toasting him at our last dinner.        

After about two years with the company, I promised Jack that we would take him to Ireland when he called it quits.  Promise made and promise kept.

 It was a trip of a lifetime for him, his family and friends.  RIP Jack. I love you.  And so too, do your old friends, George and Vern, Clyde and Mike and oh so many more.





On the flight home, I told Kath about the offer -  President, and Chief Operating Officer and a 20% interest in the business.  Bob had committed his full support to whatever I needed to do in improving his company.

The flight home was filled with whispered stories of our separate adventures and all out laughter, tinged with just a touch of nervousness.  We were getting stares.  Eventually I asked Kath if she was worried that I would accept the job.  She said she was worried that I wouldn’t.

Roll Tide!

Bob Keith was a true southern gentleman.  He had a double major in business and divinity, but decided to become a businessman, foregoing his earlier aspirations to become a minister.  He did remain extremely devout, attended church regularly, deeply involved in all aspects of The Church of Christ in Tuscaloosa.  He was tall,  relatively thin, dressed quite formally most of the time and never smoked or drank liquor or swore.  More telling is the fact that he never criticized any who did.   He was an exceptional man in many ways.  In business, as far as I know, he never took advantage of anyone.  He liked making money, but he made sure he made it honestly.  More importantly, he made sure that his employees were paid competitively and had the best of benefits.  All in all,  Affiliated Paper Company was a good place to work.

I called Bob later that week and accepted his offer.  And then we began the daunting task of moving to a new country.   Lawyers and paperwork.  Bob had to prove to the government that I was the absolute best candidate for the job and Kath, Kristin and I began, with the help of an immigration lawyer, to make ready for the move.  We sold our house.  Kath applied for a leave of absence.  In due course, I packed two bags and flew to Atlanta, where I would work from our office there, for the next three months.  There was much travel involved and plans to write.  Atlanta was an easy place from which to travel,  to have meetings and to  prepare for the whirlwind yet to come when I moved into my permanent office.

Kath was left to pack up our furniture and belongings and meet me in July, when we would both move to Tuscaloosa.  Kristin would join us at summer's end and Steph was heading back to McGill University in Montreal.

Bob must have hoodwinked the government, as they agreed on the uniqueness of my resume.  I had been granted an H1B1 visa and  I was moving from a city to a state of similar population.

Bob quickly came to appreciate my vision of what we could be, my honesty in dealing with situations  and my capacity and enjoyment for work.  But more than that, he loved me as a person, and he absolutely adored my family.  He and Edith doted on our girls as they would their own.  They entertained us often and caused us a lifetime addiction to double canasta.

He, and his fellow shareholders, had a business with potential, and I was invited in to make that potential a reality.  It was an adventure and the most fun one should have in business.  The money was good, but the joy of work was fantastic.  I had become the managing partner, created a path forward, loved the town, and made great friends.

Kath and I were almost finished building a new house when I began to feel unwell.  We had been in Tuscaloosa for about nine months.  It was then that I was referred to UAB, in Birmingham, where I began a battery of tests, ultimately to be told I had cancer.  “How bad?”, I asked.  The oncologist said it was not good.  He finally said that he could not promise a year.

Kathy and I had some long and difficult conversations for the next week.  My fight with God over taking Dad had long been put behind me.  I had joined the Catholic Church in 1973, and we had attended mass regularly in Toronto and when we settled in Tuscaloosa, we joined St. Francis Church on the university campus,  believing that attending services with younger people would be a good thing for us.

In any event, I did not go through all the stages of grief and blame that might be expected after receiving such news.  I guess I had learned something from the poor way I managed my father’s death.  We began to make a plan.  We were strong enough, in our faith, to accept whatever was to come.  We would fight cancer for as long as we could, but would accept death, if that was to be, without regret or remorse.  Our agreement was to do whatever was asked of us until there were no choices, and then and only then, accept God’s will.

 I did not tell our girls what was happening, despite Kath’s belief that they should know right away.  I did not want to upset them.  I made the wrong choice.  Some considerable time later,  I finally did tell them.  They were very upset at me for not including them earlier,  regarding my secretive hospital visits and my recent prognosis.  Of course, they were right.  I did learn the hard way, that honesty within a  family is essential.  Like me, they felt that they could handle the truth  and were upset to be sidelined at a time like this.  They needed, deserved, and had earned the right to be involved in the fight yet to come.  I apologized most sincerely and regretfully and learned a valuable lesson.  I had not wanted them to worry.  My family required involvement.

I started the first of my chemotherapy treatments.

In the midst of all this, I got a call from Stephanie, who told me that she had some good news for me.  She intended to exit her dream to be a doctor.  I was a bit stunned, but calm enough to continue our conversation without asking how that could possibly be construed as good news.   I asked what had brought her to that epiphany.  She said that most of her classmates seemed fixated on the money they would earn and they also were not the collegial types with which she liked to work.  She said that she would like to follow my path into the business field.  She said that that seemed to have worked out well  for me and that’s what she wanted for herself.  I asked if she was going to continue her new pursuit at McGill, where she was, or go to a school with a more business - centered approach.  I truly believed, one way or another, that she would stay in Canada, still far from our new home.  “ If you can help get me into the University of Alabama without losing credits, that’s where I want to be.”  Are you kidding me?  I had already met some faculty members, including the Dean of Business.  I had Stephanie send her transcripts and as soon as the school officials saw the strength of her grades, she was in.  She relocated to our new home to start the next semester.  She never has told me directly, but I know that cancer and the probability of my early demise, might have played a part in her decision - to be with us through the difficulties which lay ahead.


I had taken on a new job in a global marketing and distribution business called Affiliated Paper.  I was to become the president, take on some ownership and give new direction to a lagging company.

To make this happen, Kath had to give up her teaching career, to which she was agreeable, given the upside of the job, and her faith in my ability.  Not so enthusiastic, was our youngest daughter, Kristin, who was entering into her sophomore year of high school, in an all-girl, uniformed Catholic school.  She was a great student, had a blooming social life and had strong ties to  girlfriends she had developed over many years.  A move from uptown Toronto to Tuscaloosa was not her ideal.

Despite that little setback, she knew there was no choice.  We flew down to find a place to live and settle on a new school for Kristin.  Our first inspection was at Tuscaloosa Academy.  It was co-ed, with plenty of beautiful girls and boys.  The school had arranged for a young girl called Missy to guide her through classes for the day.  One of the classes was teaching the metric system and Kristin, having grown up using that system, stole the show.  When we picked her up after school, she did not want to look further. She thought this school would be fine - but, more to the point,  I think she thought going to school with boys would be fine.  We enrolled her.  To this day, Missy and Margaux, who befriended her on the first day they met her, remain best friends.

Moving a teenager is not an easy thing.  Kristin missed her friends and life in Toronto.  She vowed that she would head back to Toronto and a Canadian university as soon as she graduated high school. We assured her that would be fine.  So imagine our surprise when one morning  at breakfast she announced "I don't know what y'all are planning next, but I'm staying right here!"

A very good friend of ours, Lois Palecek, has always said “You need to bloom where you’re planted”.  How right she was.  Kristin bloomed.  She became immersed in school activities and after her first full year, she never mentioned Canadian universities again.

So now the gift of cancer had rallied my little family and had brought me an unbelievable partner in Bob Keith, who was committed to my fight with unshakeable faith and love, as was his wife, Edith.  With my own family, along with my extended family, we would face a difficult future together.  Bob, more than anyone, believed that this was a battle we would win.  I was not as certain.