James Grassby: curious, furious and fun

There were days when Jim Grassby was insufferable. I mean, you would arrive for your Sunday morning gabfests that would include anywhere from three to 10 other keeners, and he would be onto something and he wouldn’t stop.

Maybe the City of Sudbury was wasting more money, or the provincial government had turned down funding for one of his preferred charities, or worse, someone with money was not giving what Jim considered to be an appropriate donation, and he just couldn’t understand why.

He’d be asking for advice, but it was really a thinly disguised — well not even a remotely camouflaged — call to action, your action. “What are you going to do about this, Mike?” I would frequently answer; “I’m going to order a cup of coffee and some bacon and eggs and I’m not going to speak until you can lay off and allow me to get my eyes open.” Other attendees had their own strategies for coping when Jim was in full flight.

Jim was a force of nature. He had a combination of traits you just don’t normally find in the same human being. He was an engineer and he demanded innovation and efficiency. He held patents on new processes which he invented at Inco when something annoyed him enough to solve the problem himself.

Jim had a heart the size of northern Ontario. His signature accomplishment in his retirement years was his support for the Sudbury Action Centre for Youth, which was established to help children at risk.

Jim could not abide lost potential. It would bring him extraordinary joy to see a young man or woman clawed back from the depths of despair and hardship to find their potential. He would do a jig.

Good people come in all sorts of shapes and sizes, but what set Jim apart beyond his enormous capacity for action was his true outrage about the injustice he saw around him.

Jim told the truth. It was uncomfortable. He would look you straight in the eye, describe a situation or circumstance or a need, and demand a response.

You would get up in the morning feeling perfectly adequate, and by the time Jim was done with you, you had either made a commitment of action or you felt guilty about not. The thing about Jim is that he walked the talk. He didn’t waste time on niceties. He just got to work.

Whether Jim was helping start the volunteer fire department in Lockerby 60 years ago or sitting on the board of Théâtre du Nouvel-Ontario without the benefit of being able to speak French, or starting the first credit unions in Sudbury, or helping launch and fund the University of Sudbury, or raise money for the United Way, or start his cherished Sudbury Action Centre for Youth (note the word action in the name), or mentor a young man who had lost his way and needed a kick in the pants to find the confidence to go to university, Jim was consistent and resolute.

What mattered were results. Jim believed there was a social contract between the fortunate and the less fortunate. He was instrumental in raising millions and millions of dollars for community action in his lifetime.

In a world where senior executives can make the average wage of a Canadian worker within days of the beginning of the New Year, Jim was having nothing of it. It sickened him.

When it moved him, Jim would commandeer space in Northern Life to express his point of view. On one occasion he wrote a short piece on what governments were for, given his view that most people had forgotten. He concluded the piece with this:

“Then, if there is anything left over, let the rich have it for their Rolls Royces and monster houses — but not before ordinary rights of citizens are satisfied.”

This from a vice-president of Inco.

Jim won a slew of awards, including our own Community Builders award and, let’s be honest, the recognition pleased him greatly. It gave him an audience.

His richest reward he could have anticipated but was not there to witness.

His children and their children spoke lovingly and movingly at his funeral about his mentorship, his love and his high expectations, which have guided and, no doubt on occasion, terrorized their lives. It was a life well lived and his spirit is alive and well in his family and many friends and associates.

I know that is true for me.

Michael Atkins is president of Northern Life.