I met Al Purdy a couple of times when I was a newspaper editor near his home on the Bay of Quinte. He came in to ask my advice (!!!) after being announced by the receptionist as "there's some older guy out front to see you, he looks kinda seedy." He had been comissioned to write one of those "My Canada" type of pieces for a magazine sponsored by Imperial Oil and wanted my suggestions for some scenic spots around The County to send the photographer. Needless to say, I was at a loss for copies of his books to have him sign at the time, but rattled off a list of picturesque spots in the area. About a year later, I was called on to introduce him at a local literary festival and we agreed we'd have to have a beer together sometime, but unfortunately for all concerned, the Quinte Hotel burned down, I got fired from the newspaper and moved to Japan, and the celebrated poet passed on before such an meeting could be convened.
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