HARKINS, Pat Garet – 

Pat Garet Harkins died peacefully Sept 19, in St. Joseph's Hospice wing in Guelph, Ontario after suffering a devastating stroke seventeen days earlier from which he never recovered. He was 88. His family and friends, extending from Guelph to Winnipeg to Toronto to Montreal to Texas to Washington and beyond, are united in our shock and heartbreak.

He leaves a canyon-sized hole in our hearts and lives because he was for all of us a rock – of stability, constancy, wisdom, love, acceptance and humour. His first born Michael expressed it this way, "Dad, although you are gone and much missed I feel your care, love and counsel every day like a guiding light on stormy seas."

Pat is survived by his wife Caroline, (nee Clardy), pre-deceased by his wife Ramelle (nee Littleton/Phelan). Survived by three Harkins children: Katharin Ramelle, Michael Garet and his wife Margaret, and Patrick Haley and his wife Mary. Survived by five Ackerman stepchildren: Steven, Sunshine, Rain, Joe, and Ed. Also survived by many loving Harkins and Ackerman grandchildren: Maggie Harkins, Arthur, Hannah and Emma Harkins out of Ontario and Montreal, John, David and Peter Harkins out of Texas, and by Maya, Jasmine, Caleb, Brandon, Zara, Cate, Bobbi Jean, Genevieve, Star, Raven, Kelly and Jane Ackerman, out of Winnipeg, Hamilton, Detroit, Hanover, Montreal, British Columbia, and Toronto.

There are many great-grandchildren in Winnipeg whom Pat enjoyed very much. Pat was recently blessed to meet the latest arrivals in Ontario: Theodore Vines (of Emma and Aaron) and Lennox Harkins (of Maggie).

Pat is also survived by his beloved sister Jan Crews (husband Tom Crews) and their children, Katherine, Carol, and Beth, and grandchildren Delaney, Iona, and Han.

Pat was born in Houston, Texas on February 20th, 1933. As a young man, he was fiercely drawn to rock and mountain climbing and became very adept at scaling sheer rock faces. As his son Mike commented about a famously difficult climb in Colorado called the Kissing Camels: "Dad did it. He loved cliff climbing. He had that incredible ability to climb sheer rock faces which is a metaphor for his life."

He married young which produced his son Michael, (Ruby Cordray) and he assumed custody when the marriage ended. He met his second wife Ramelle at school and found they were both spiritual seekers and interested in Quakerism, a doctrine of non-violence and the belief that the divine lives in every individual, not in a priest or a church building. Quakerism also spoke to their desire to change the change the world as there were many projects and initiatives on anti-racism, peace, and access to health care for the poor. They joined the Houston Quaker Meeting where they attended for several years. Pat had been raised Catholic and was looking for an alternative faith to what he felt were the somewhat rigid confines of Catholicism.

He found a home in Quakerism where questions and diversity were value and the practise of silent meditation until one is moved to speak a deeply comforting and meaningful process. Everyone could 'minister', and he did on occasion drawing deeply from his heart matters of import he wanted to share. For many years he attended meetings, serving as Clerk of Kitchener-Waterloo meeting and participating in many committees which served the peace and justice work of the Meeting. He attended his last one in Kitchener, Ontario a few days before he died.

Pat and Ramelle combined their children from earlier marriages (Katharin and Michael) and together had Patrick. The little house on Maple St in Houston was full of love, family fun, and cats, mostly Siamese cats who liked to leap from counters onto the thin top of door frames and stare down imperiously. The poster in the hall expressed who they were, saying "War is not healthy for children and other living things."

Pat was then a graduate student in psychology and would ultimately look for post-grad work elsewhere. Part of Pat and Ramelle's connection was their desire to live in a non-violent world where peace was the norm. They marched against the testing of nuclear weapons in New Mexico, among other causes, and met often with friends in coffee shops and sang songs of justice and anti-racism. They went to numerous Pete Seeger concerts and the kids could sing We Shall Overcome from a young age.

Their opposition to the military-industrial complex in large part triggered their move to Canada, which did not have a military draft and was known as a peacemaker, not a warrior, taking sons away from the shadow of the Vietnam war; to Winnipeg, where Pat became a post-doctoral student at the University of Winnipeg. From a place where there had been snow once in a blue moon that melted in seconds, to Winnipeg, the town known as 9 months of winter and 3 months of bad skating. They survived and learned about winter parkas and mitts and shovelling driveways and frostbite. The children thrived and learned how to ice skate, cross country ski, and leap off garages headfirst into gigantic snowdrifts and not kill themselves. When Patrick the baby saw snow falling outside the window for the first time, he pointed to it joyously and said Sand! He learned quickly that this sand was for snowmen not for sandcastles on a beach.

They became members of the Winnipeg Quaker Meeting and got involved in projects promoting peace and justice. Later, in Ontario, Pat would become very actively involved in a Quaker-founded program (Alternatives to Violence Project or AVP), going into prisons and teaching the practices of non-violence. He was a big, strong guy and it seemed even quite tough prisoners found it compelling that a man who was their physical equal was proposing peaceful solutions and non-violence mindsets, as opposed to guns and fists. He introduced himself as a farmer (which by then he was) rather than a professor, and gained their trust.

Four years later, the family moved to Guelph, Ontario where Pat landed a professorship at the University of Guelph. More cats, and one fine golden lab named Jessica who adored Pat as the one and only and the feeling was mutual. They ran together every morning.

After a few years at the University of Guelph, Pat accepted the chairmanship of the psychology department at the then Ontario College of Art (now OCAD University) in Toronto. He enjoyed students and teaching very much, but as time went on, he became turned off by the politics in academia and began looking into his heart for what would be more meaningful.

The answer: goats! By this time, Pat and Ramelle lived on a farm near Elora, and had decided to acquire a few goats for milk. They both came to love goats, who were quirky and affectionate, and produced milk that was easier on the stomach than cow's milk. Thus, the seeds of a big idea were born here.

Ultimately, the dreaming and planning and goat-happy couple decided they needed more than four goats. They would go on to have a herd (Elora Dairy Goats) and produce a lot of milk to be sold and they decided they would also learn to make their own goat cheese. They did just that, through intensive research and visits to established goat cheese dairies in Quebec and even France. Thus, Woolwich Dairy goat cheese was born at the kitchen table of a farmhouse on the Elora-Guelph road and thrives to this day under different ownership. Together they pioneered the widespread marketing of goat cheese in Ontario and across North America, contributing greatly to the household name it has become. For a time, Pat was president of the Canadian Goat Society.

Farm mornings were early and busy, with both Pat and Ramelle making their way to the barn for milking and cleanup. Their first grandchild Maggie (Katharin) was settled many times by Pat walking her up and down the barn corridors, listening to the gentle bleating of the female goats and the not-so-dulcet stylings of the males. It isn't any wonder that her baby, one of Pat's great-grandchildren, is nicknamed Goat Baby for the eerily goat-like sounds he made for his first few months.

The kitchen table in the farmhouse was, as it is in many farms, the town square. It seemed as if it were a giant campfire that drew people to its warmth and comfort. There was always someone to talk to, always goat cheese to be eaten, with Pat often holding court with his flyswatter quite happily squashing flies with abandon near peoples' lunches or hands or even faces. New guests had to get used to his fly smashing ways or miss out on all the good talks that happened daily.

 Conversations covered every topic imaginable. Politics were often on the table as it became clearer that Pat had truly parted ways with his birth country, and found a kinship with Canada. He became a full citizen in the mid 1980s and was proud to get out and vote in his new country. He and Ramelle had been excited to move to Canada and for weeks before the drive up here in a classic VW van with the kids and cats, they made up games and quizzes and flashcards to introduce the kids to provinces, capitals, and facts and figures about this big new place they were heading.

Pat had a keen intelligence and read extensively. However, he was certainly not always serious. In fact he was an unabashed punster looking for any opportunity to make some groan-worthy play on words that would start his sons down that road to out-pun the other. He loved to tease and kid and laugh. And tickle the little kids until they begged for mercy. They got him back by always getting in his lap to style his wispy hair into fantastical shapes they claimed were very chic. Another of his signature moves was to call his kids on their birthdays and 'sing' Happy Birthday to them as loudly and tunelessly as possible. He wouldn't speak until his special concert finished.

Life in this house of happiness filled with dogs and cats and sometimes baby goats who required nursing, and family meals and Quaker gatherings, was an idyllic time for Pat and Ramelle. However, it was also where Ramelle received her first breast cancer diagnosis, one which would ultimately prove fatal. She died October 4, 1992. At her Quaker memorial, he said he mourned the loss of a beautiful 32-year conversation.

After a long struggle with grief and loss, Pat responded to a sympathy call from Caroline Ackerman, a long-time Winnipeg friend of the family. As is Pat's way, they ended up talking for hours on end over many days and weeks and the feelings grew. They were married in '94, and lived in Elora 11 years, and then in Winnipeg 16 years.

They enjoyed camping trips and many other adventures that were rich with family and fun and music and talking.

The ensuing 27 years reflect a huge part of Pat's most important legacy: his tremendous love and support of his children, but also his grand-children and great grand-children. It is not hyperbole to say he was revered, as a source of great strength, support, and love. He was interested in each and every one of them as people, as individuals who had something to say, and were worthy of all the love in the world no matter what mistakes anyone thought he or she had made. He was an intelligent, insightful listener, and could be called at any hour of the day or night. In fact, some of the best calls occurred in the late evening, where Pat would dig into a litre of ice cream and listen to one of the kids' problems or concerns or hopes and dreams. And always offer up something meaningful for them to chew on. He never talked down to anyone, despite his big brain and wide-ranging education. He also didn't judge even when he offered advice or alternative views on a subject.

Everyone wanted to talk to him…family and friends who had worked on the farm and became like family, calling him about their lives, their problems, their views on things, and with their questions about big issues of spirituality or politics. They cried, he comforted. They dreamed dreams, he listened and encouraged. They talked of rage and pain of their own or when they looked at the planet; he knew that darkness, but always wanted to press on for hope.

He gave so much to the world, through his family, his activism, his work with goats and more. He has left such an imprint on so many, a big love tattoo that will be cherished forever.

There will be no traditional funeral service. It was Pat's wish to be cremated and that has taken place. As with Ramelle, there will be a tree planted in his name at the Guelph Arboretum Forest and down the road, there may be a memorial service there. Ashes will also be sent to Winnipeg and Texas as the other two places of profound importance to Pat.

It's important to hear from some of the grandkids who are very sad and have also expressed extreme gratefulness that he was part of their lives. To introduce their words, here is a beautiful line from Canadian folk singer Laura Smith, "I need the shade of your love cooling me. I knew it was the shade of your love cooling me."

"Grandad was the man we looked up to. We are going to miss you. Thanks for being in our lives." (Peter Harkins)

"The path you carved for the ones you loved, may one day become old and overgrown, but we will always cherish the journey." (David Harkins)          

"My granddad. A strong and kind soul; he shaped our family with love and direction. You will always be in our hearts." (John Harkins)

"Gramps was a real cool guy. Super smart and nonjudgmental. Liked cats but would never admit it. Also goats. He was so real. When we'd talk on the phone he'd want to know what I was really doing, not what would I would say to a neighbour or a cashier. Like the real stuff I was going through, good or bad. And he would respond with the same honesty." (Maggie Harkins)

"Granddad was always trying to figure out how he could empower my young and deeply troubled mind. Although it was truly challenging for him he went beyond the call of duty countless times when I needed help and couldn't ask. Only he could get through to me and while he couldn't undo my suffering he forever left his loving hand on my soul and saved me from a much darker path. A damn fine man. (Arthur Harkins)

"Grandad was a great listener, and when he would offer his input, it was practical and direct, but would give you enough space to draw your own conclusions. This allowed me to feel like I could talk to him about a plan or a situation, but also be given the room I needed to decided on my own. This meant a lot to me." (Hannah Harkins)

"Grandad never sugar-coated anything. He was a man who spoke the truth, even if it cut deep. And that was one of the things I loved most about him, you knew he was someone you could count on to tell you the god honest truth about everything." (Emma Harkins)

An honest man who spoke his truth within the context of love and deep commitment to family. That is surely an honourable legacy.

The family would like to thank the staff, nurses and doctors of Guelph General Hospital who were kind, supportive, clear and always there for Pat's needs. Your work is heroic. They also wish to thank the lovely medical staff of St. Joseph's Hospital in Guelph who only cared for Pat a few days but ensured he was comfortable and well-treated. If anyone cares to make a donation in honour of Pat, please consider these hard-working heroes at the General and St. Joe's.

"To every thing turn, turn, turn. To everything there is a season, turn, turn, turn. And a time to every purpose under heaven."