Mr. Speaker, I thank my fine friend from Joliette for his sentiments on our friend Steve Neary. I would say Steve Neary and he are similar sorts.
Yes, Steve Neary died in his sleep Friday morning, two weeks short of 71. At least that is what his birth certificate would indicate. But he was much younger, probably 25 or 30, if we judge by the steel trap which was his mind.
As a fighter, Steve was an eternal terrible two. He knew what he wanted and he was single-minded in going after it, and he got it.
That he made the transition so tranquilly from this world to the Parliament of heaven will seem, to some, to be at odds with how he lived. To many, including me before I knew him, Steve's life was a tornado, a turbulent affair. There never seemed to be a time when he was not at odds with someone. Always, there was a battle to be won, a cause to be championed, a case to be argued. And argue he did, and fight and scratch.
Newfoundland is so much the better for his having fought, our people the richer and the institution of Parliament and public debate so much the healthier because of Steve.
But Steve had another side which few saw because he hid it so well. The centrepiece of Steve's life was not turmoil, but purpose. As a result, Steve was actually very much at peace with the world. He always knew what he wanted for himself and he got it. What he wanted for his family, he got it. What he wanted for his people, he got it. He loved to call his people, the "the ragged-arsed artillery".
His family was his pride and joy. If you knew Mary, Pierre and the girls, Andrea, Stephanie and Monique, you would know why. His wife Mary was his pit stop. She kept him on the ground and she recharged his batteries. If you were too big for your boots, Steve could fix that in ten seconds. It takes Mary about five seconds.
Steve knew what he did not like and the top of that list of dislikes were people who took themselves too seriously. Equally, Steve knew precisely what he liked and topping that list was loyalty. He practised what he preached.
During Joey Smallwood's retirement years, when he was abandoned by every ungrateful wretch that he had plucked from anonymity during his premiership, it was Steve who stood by him and carried the torch.
When I first went into politics provincially, Steve was one of my mentors. His straight talk and his uncanny ability to get right to the heart of an issue with lightning speed and humour made me an early convert to his brand of politics.
After his retirement from politics, he came here and did me the honour of being on my staff for two years in 1989 and 1990. What two marvellous years they were. It was a marvellous doctoral degree for me sitting at his feet and having him around.
It is Thursday, six full days since Steve's promotion to that other place. If heaven was not unionized, it is now. If heaven did not have an opposition, it has one now. The word was out, heaven needed an ombudsman. We sent Steve.
I sat with Steve two weeks ago outside his home. He did not reminisce and drool and paw about past glories. He was too busy talking about what had to be done, wrongs to be righted, causes to be fought. The fire was still in his belly.
That is the legacy Steve leaves us. That is why Steve did not simply pass from the scene. Oh, no. He has only taken his seat in that other parliament for which we are all running. Yes, we have lost a friend. We have gained so much from that friend that we will continue to benefit from it for many years to come.
My sympathies to each member of his family, all of whom he is very proud. There is not only Mary, the girls and Pierre, but also the extended family, the grandchild, the brothers, the sisters and the nieces and nephews.