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the Games in my adopted city to be a success, but I didn’t have a clue how to do it. It was all learn as you go. Two months before the Games were to open, I decided to phone Iona Campagnolo, who was the Member of Parliament of the northern B.C. riding of Skeena. She was also minister of amateur sports. To my surprise, the minister took my call and when I asked her if she’d consider coming out to open the Games later that year she didn’t hesitate to say yes. I couldn’t believe it.
    It got better.
    A day or two later, the minister phoned back. “John,” she said, “how would you feel if I brought the prime minister along?”
    I nearly dropped the phone. The prime minister was Pierre Elliott Trudeau. I might have been relatively new to Canada but I was aware of Trudeau’s star power; most everyone in Europe was. He cut quite the glamorous figure. Now he was going to be coming to this event that I was organizing. At the time, Trudeau was dealing with any number of issues. There were loud noises emanating from Quebec about separation. I didn’t fully understand the debate, and I couldn’t figure out why anyone in any province would want to leave this amazing country.
    Over the next couple of months there was lots of communication with Iona and the Prime Minister’s Office. Trudeau wanted to make a speech to help launch the Games. He wanted to skate with the athletes one day. He would need to be briefed on what the Northern Games were all about and why they were important. That would be my job.
    The big day arrived, and I was directed by the Prime Minister’s Office to go to such and such a room at the Inn of the North hotel. I was sitting there by myself when the door swung open and in walked the prime minister. He shook my hand and we made small talk for a couple of minutes before I started filling him in on the brief history of the Games. He was warm and funny and personable. I, however, was an awestruck wreck who couldn’t believe to whom he was talking. I remember thinking about my father and wishing he was still around so I could tell him this story.
    After about an hour we walked to the hall, and the crowd was already on its feet. I was behind the prime minister feeling like a 3-million-dollar man. We bounded up the stairs of the stage, and before long I was introducing the guest of honour. I remember acknowledging the problems in Quebec and saying that Trudeau never had to worry about anyone in this part of the country wanting to leave Canada. I even got a bit of a cheer for that line.
    Soon it was Trudeau’s turn to speak. He’d only been speaking for a few minutes when I was left flabbergasted. His speech touched on almost all the points I had raised during our hour-long meeting, during which he barely took a note. As I listened, I remember thinking I’d never met a smarter person.
    A month later I got a letter thanking me for helping him out with his speech and the trip. The letter included a picture of the two of us, taken while I presented him with a token of our appreciation. Only much later did I realize the impact his speech had had on me. I’d never heard someone in such command of an audience before. He didn’t have a line written for him, yet the crowd was enthralled. I eventually realized his secret: he spoke from the heart. He talked about the country, his country, and the need for all of us to band together if we were going to be a great country.
    I matured 10 years from my Trudeau experience alone. Part of it was listening to him talk; part of it was the pressure I was under to get right everything connected with his visit. And certainly part of it was the enormous responsibility I had at the age of 28, organizing such a huge undertaking. I got a headache on the second day of the Games that has never gone away. It got so bad at the time that I was admitted to hospital, where doctors tried to break up what they told me was a massive migraine. Now I carry medication everywhere I go to