Colin Plant lost it all and won a life
Colin Plant of Waterloo Born: Aug. 30, 1974, in Elmira Died: July 2, 2017, complications from pancreatitis
Colin Plant knew about having it all, then losing everything — a life tumble he once described to a reporter as “I just gave up and ended up on the streets. I was terrified.” Terrified but not defeated. Clarence Cachagee said they met through mutual friends while both men were struggling with addiction and homelessness yet they would have deeply philosophical conversations. Colin had ideas and he was consistent in his concern for everyone else.
“He was a deep-thinker,” said Clarence, who turned his life around and is now a support worker for the House of Friendship. “He wanted to know how to help the community and the less fortunate, even though we were the less fortunate.”
After living on the streets for over three years, Colin moved into transition housing then a major opportunity appeared in his life.
In 2010, Supportive Housing of Waterloo opened the region’s first supportive facility providing round-the-clock supportive care.
The 30-unit building on Erb Street West in Waterloo was Colin’s home until he died and though he was never able to beat his addiction to alcohol, Colin managed to live a full life and impact others.
Colin went from a withdrawn, lonely street character, often spending winter nights in Out of the Cold program shelters, to an articulate advocate for social housing, a man who understood how homelessness happens and what can be done about it.
“I lost my confidence,” he once told a
reporter. “I lost a lot of things, but I didn’t realize at the time that was the most important thing I lost.”
Colin not only rediscovered his confidence, he became one of the region’s most fearless leaders, receiving an Outstanding Volunteer Housing Champion award from the Region of Waterloo in 2011.
“Colin had a great deal of respect for people, it didn’t matter who they were,” said Cathie Stewart Savage, an administrator at the Erb Street facility. “He was able to relate in a non-judgmental way.”
On a blistering hot day last week, more than 60 people crammed onto the rear patio at the Erb Street facility for a special memorial to Colin, who had died in his sleep following a two-year battle with pancreatitis.
The ceremony involved planting a cherry tree in the garden with some of Colin’s ashes scattered on its roots. It was a deeply moving ceremony, one that illustrated just how far-reaching Colin’s impact had spread. Why a cherry tree? The organizers wanted to plant a tree that would pollinate and spread its seeds — much like Colin did with his relentless advocacy.
His mother, Brenda Luscott, remembers her only child as a happy, rambunctious boy who was very close to his father, James Plant. When his dad died of a heart attack, Colin was only eight years old and it hit him hard. Add that to a family history of bipolar disease and alcoholism and Brenda said her son faced a “double whammy.”
The problems began in his teens when he became rebellious and hard to handle but he still managed to graduate from Niagara College in graphic design followed by certification in interactive multimedia.
Colin, living in St. Catharines at the time, married, had two children, landed a good job and became a respected member of a remote-control flying club, serving as president and instructor plus he handcrafted his own planes and boats. He eventually lost it all.
During a talk on public housing, Colin once told the crowd that being on the streets robbed him of many things but once he was settled into the Erb Street facility, everything changed.
He told a reporter, “This place is a lifechanger it has made the world of difference.
“I was so ashamed of my life … I am not ashamed anymore,” he said. “That is what this place has done for me.”
Brenda said Colin knew what living rough was like and he never forgot where he came from.
He didn’t view the world he inhabited as us-and-them — it wasn’t the homeless and the professionals — it was everyone in it together, working collaboratively.
He once said that simply acknowledging homeless people on the street can do more than most people imagine.
When he served as co-chair of Step Home Participant Advisory Group, Colin explained that his three and a half years in “revolving door homelessness” taught him a lot about himself.
He’d speak about the complex and interrelated issues of housing, food and health instability while encouraging others to believe anything is possible. He was a living example. Rob Smith, a program manager with Supportive Housing, knew Colin well. He admired how Colin wanted to use his life experiences to benefit others.
“It’s sharing and sharing your story,” said Rob. “A lot of people don’t want to go there. He had the drive and will to be part of it from the beginning.”
With each telling of their story, the person can be re-traumatized, said Rob, but for Colin, reaching out only strengthened him.
Considered an expert on the topic of homelessness, Colin was in demand as a speaker. He was the Waterloo Region representative at an Ottawa housing conference and he took part in a region-sponsored TED talk.
Colin also belonged to an advocacy group that tends toward the more radical side, but he never got caught up in the group’s more aggressive methods.
Rob said Colin believed in diplomacy, in creating dialogue, knowing that was how lasting change would happen.
“Right from the beginning, he thought ‘we have to do this together,’” said Brenda.