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‘Well, have ya talked to Jimmy’

I have known Jimmy Hinds for more than 30 years. Not close and intimate like many, but regular and respectful and with a mutual affection based I think on our interest in people and politics and Sudbury.

I have known Jimmy Hinds for more than 30 years. Not close and intimate like many, but regular and respectful and with a mutual affection based I think on our interest in people and politics and Sudbury.


I first met Jim a few months after I arrived in Sudbury in 1973. I was taken by one of the original shareholders in Northern Life to meet Jim and Bill Dobson at the old Trevi restaurant across from our original pigeon infested office on Cedar St.

It was like meeting with the Mafia. I was told not much happened in Sudbury without one or the other of them giving the high sign (particularly Jim), and so I should be aware of who they were and what they were thinking.

They were, I must say, very interested in what this naive long-haired 25-year-old publisher was going to do.

Jim, who was then in the prime of his influence with the federal Liberals had a more practical curiosity. He lived across the street and down the road from Jim Meakes, the publisher of The Sudbury Star, who was extraordinarily powerful at the time, and if memory serves correctly had, in Jim’s view, an unfortunate affinity for the Conservative Party.

Let’s just say Jim saw a lot of merit in Sudbury having two newspapers when one was already set in its ways.

“Prominent Liberal” doesn’t cover it. “Prominent lawyer” doesn’t cover it. “Fundraiser” doesn’t cut it. “Political junkie” is true but wide of the mark.


Plain and simple Jim was a force. He loved the political wars and intrigue. He loved people. He loved Manitoulin Island and he loved Sudbury.

As legal council to Inco and fundraiser extraordinaire for the Liberals, Jim was at the nexus of Sudbury’s political and business nervous system for 40 years.

For most of my business life in Sudbury, Jim walked by the front door of my office at least twice and sometimes four times a day. I never had to call Jimmy. I’d just stand outside the door in the morning and wait for him to show up, like clockwork.

We’d discuss the issues and share a little gossip on Elgin St. in the blazing heat or raging snow storm. It was neutral ground. He would never come in, even if he wanted to ring my neck. He was too smart for that.

If we didn’t happen to run into one another, particularly after ripping a Liberal personage or policy in my column, you knew you would hear something sooner or later.

Often it could take weeks for a message to arrive. You’d be sitting at Franks Delicatessen, and someone would say, “Now what were you smoking when you wrote such and such.” It was a message from Jim.

The number of people who benefited from a good word (let’s not even talk judges) numbered in the thousands over the years. Jim loved to promote talent and give it a helping hand where he could.

Of course, it was important to be a Liberal, but if you weren’t, it didn’t entirely disqualify you from life unless you were a right-wing Conservative. Jim believed common sense would prevail eventually. He had immense influence locally, nationally, and provincially.

What was special about Jim, however, was not his power, which was considerable, nor his connections, which were astonishing, nor his sense of humour, which could be rough, nor even his civility, which argued with his competitiveness.

What was special about Jim for me was his Sudburyness. I know. That’s hokey. But it’s true.

The Sudbury I love, the straight talking, hard-driving, competitive, compassionate, stubborn, irascible, fair-minded, unpretentious place I have lived, was defined by people like Jim.

As arguably Sudbury’s most powerful citizen for decades, Jim didn’t wear it and if you were new to town you would have never heard of him. He enjoyed and respected people of all walks of life. He was unaffected by his success and always had his feet on the ground.

It is a new era. It is unlikely there will be any new Jimmy Hindses.

It is impossible to count the number of times a conversation about politics or people or community would be punctuated by  “Well, have you talked to Jimmy about this?”

He was a gate keeper, and a player.

Jimmy died last week, and with him a little bit of Sudbury.

Michael Atkins is the president of Laurentian Media. He can be reached at[email protected].



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