Honour Downie’s legacy with reconciliation work

Backstage, Gord Downie struggled to walk, hands braced on a friend’s shoulders. When he stepped into the stage lights in Toronto, Gord transformed. From deep reserves he drew strength for the first live performance of The Stranger, and throughout a haunting musical interlude, Gord walked unassisted. He paced the length of the stage with short, stiff strides, every step dedicated to Chanie Wenjack’s last journey.

In more than a decade, we’d never seen a WE Day audience so still. Singing alongside Pearl Wenjack to tell her brother Chanie’s story, Gord began what he called the most important work of his life.

The Tragically Hip’s final tour had ended just weeks before, and he would spend the next few months on WE Day stages across the country introducing Canadians to Chanie, the 12-year-old boy who died walking, following train tracks while running away from a residential school.

Like all Canadians, we got pulled into the gravitational wake of Gord.

He talked about legacy. Not his own—that had long been cemented in the hearts of Canadian music lovers—but what all of us will leave behind as a nation. He once quipped that people were growing tired of him, having spent a year saying one long goodbye. It was a dark joke, playing at his own mortality. He was the only one who laughed at it, but we understood the subtext.

Gord wasn’t concerned about his own place in public memory—his final year was dedicated to raising awareness about the impact of residential schools, the long road ahead for reconciliation, and the Gord Downie and Chanie Wenjack Foundation.

Hidden in his self-effacing humour was his greatest fear — he didn’t want the public attention for his cause to die with him.

The Tragically Hip created the soundtrack for Canada. We learned to drive with their iconic songs playing in the background. They wrote the music for campfire singalongs and awkward school dances. But that is not Gord’s legacy.

Gord dedicated the final year of his life to the most difficult and important conversation we need to have as a nation. Generations from now, he will be remembered as much for his voice as for giving voice to others.

At WE Day Canada this summer, a youth choir surprised Gord with their own rendition of his mournful tune about Chanie’s story. Through watery eyes, Gord watched 100 young singers interpret his most significant work, taking up the torch for his greatest cause.

As the choir drew to a close, each member pulled out a velvet hat, a tribute to the front man’s iconic style. With their final notes, they tipped their hats to him.

Let’s all tip our hats to Gord now. Don’t let the project that took up his final months and last energy die with him.

In every city, people would ask Gord how to get involved. He said he was a singer and a poet, so he wrote and sang about it. What do you have to give? If each of us finds our own way to contribute to reconciliation, we honour the legacy of Gord Downie.