My offer holds:
The day David Suzuki dies, don’t wait for my call. Don’t wait for my email.
Just show up at my place around 8pm and we’ll head to the nearest bar to celebrate.
There are 8 million David Suzuki stories in this frigid nation.
You’ve heard mine, and others.
I showed up a few days later, the lone company representative amongst a large group of protestors, a number of them armed young men with covered faces a la the Oka images we all remember so well.
Suzuki began the press conference. Now that the had the other side’s information, with plenty of evidence about their responsible harvesting and silviculture practices, I thought he would moderate his tone and the protest would head in a different direction.
Talk about naive.
He launched into a blistering attack on MLTC, completely ignoring the evidence that didn’t jibe with his conclusions.
Then he did something I’ll never forget. He announced that Markham Hislop, a representative of MLTC, was in the crowd and pointed me out. Immediately, no doubt choreographed ahead of time, a number of large and armed men surrounded me, leaning in in a very threatening manner. They remained that way for the remainder of the press conference. Some of them muttered very nasty things in my ear.
Intimidating? You bet. I was shaking when I finally got back to the car.
