Remembering the great Gordie Howe

Re Farewell, Mr. Hockey, June 11 When I was 8 years old, I appeared in a photo and article by the Star’s Jim Proudfoot. It was 1964, the Wings were playing the Leafs in the Stanley Cup final and my uncle was the bell captain at the Constellation Hotel where visiting hockey teams often stayed. After a tipoff from him, we raced over to the hotel for autographs and caught most of the team milling about the lobby.

Anyway, somehow the Wings’ Bill Gadsby and I wound up in the photo together, and Mr. Proudfoot wrote about my road hockey exploits, while members of the Wings chimed in their opinions. But the real story happened after the photo. The only member of the team whose autograph I didn’t get in that whirlwind attack was that of Gordie Howe. I don’t remember who gave me the lead, but I was told he was in the dining room having dinner. My uncle took me there, and there, curiously, sitting alone, was Mr. Howe, eating bacon and eggs. Bacon and eggs for dinner? And Gordie Howe sitting at his table — alone. My uncle urged me on, and Mr. Howe actually invited me to sit down and chat! Me, alone with Gordie Howe — at dinner! I can’t remember exactly what was said in our talk, but I do remember he was the one asking all the questions, taking a genuine interest in this little boy sitting at his table.

After a generous amount of his time, he gave me a chocolate bar, his autograph and his best wishes.

That moment of genuine kindness has stayed with me all my life. Thank you, Mr. Hockey. Michael Halfin, Newmarket Most of all it was the humbleness and gentility about him that put him in the same revered company as the late Jean Béliveau. Forever a gentleman, one can only imagine the stories now being exchanged between those two giants of the game. That he will be missed is such an understatement, and we wish his loved ones well at this difficult time. Claude McDonald, Kitchener, Ont. Well played, Gordie; well played. Peter Pinch, Toronto