Early ruffian found a life of value as devout Christian, humanitarian
Lorne Bolger of Elmira Born: April 29, 1925, in Pilkington Township Died: April 18, 2017, of age-related illness
Lorne Bolger started life as a farm boy, a rabble-rousing kid quick with the fists, known for being tough. But that picture is far from the man his sons Paul and Jim Bolger knew and loved, a man of infinite kindness and generosity, a man who was usually the peacemaker.
If anyone has ever made a drastic turnaround in life it was Lorne Bolger and the sons credit their mother, Cindy Bolger, for being the positive influence. Irish Catholic boy meets an independent Mennonite girl at a religious conference: an unlikely pairing.
“His life completely flipped,” said Jim, noting that a bar had a set of boxing gloves kept in a closet for Lorne when he’d visit and decide to challenge someone. He was a guy of high spirits who loved to have fun.
“People would tell us ‘your dad was the best dancer for miles around,’” said Paul. “We never knew that guy.”
Lorne’s stabilizing influence, Cindy, was born into a traditional Mennonite family, sent out to work as a housemaid at age 12 and expected just to get married and raise a brood of children. But the independent minded Cindy had other ideas. She moved to Toronto, upgraded her education and went into nursing, graduating from the Kitchener-Waterloo Hospital School of Nursing in 1951. She married Lorne in 1959.
The couple’s sons see so many differences between their parents but somehow they made it work. Lorne was the risk taker. Cindy was risk adverse. Lorne was Irish Catholic, albeit nonpracticing. Cindy was Mennonite and deeply connected to her faith.
Lorne was born one of three on a farm near Inverhaugh, northeast of Waterloo, a farm that remains in the family today. As a teenager with plenty of farming experience, he was given an opportunity that turned into a career.
“His first job offer was from J.M. Schneider,” said Paul, referring to the Kitchener businessman who founded the meat company. The family had already done business with Schneider, supplying feed for his Waterloo lamb farm so he knew Lorne.
The teenager’s job would be buying cattle for the packing plant. He liked the work and after gaining some experience, Lorne went to work for a Toronto-based cattle buying business. Several times a week, Lorne would travel to the Ontario Livestock Exchange in Toronto and to farmers around the province, looking for cattle fat and ready for market.
Jim worked with his dad for awhile and saw him in action. The cattle buying business could be dirty at times but Lorne always told his sons to practice business so they would never have regrets. His handshake was his bond.
When things got ugly in the sales ring, when it seemed violence was about to erupt, Lorne would throw up his hands and tell everyone to calm down.
He also threw the name of Jesus into every conversation. Lorne had converted to the Mennonite faith and was not what you’d call a Sunday Christian. He practised his faith in everything he did and would share that faith with anyone who would listen.
In his free time, Lorne volunteered helping people living on the fringes, such as the House of Friendship where he served on the board. Lorne was also one of the founders of Ray of Hope, which this year celebrated its 50th anniversary.
The organization began as a halfway house for men leaving jail but after partnering with the province they opened a secure facility for youth. Lorne’s sons speculate that their father’s troublesome past might have made him sympathetic.
“When they started it, it was to help kids who had lost direction,” said Paul, who added that his dad wasn’t really a handyman type so instead he took on the role of counsellor at the Mannheim-area facility.
Jim said “he wanted to make a difference in a kid’s life.”
Lorne didn’t just help create the facility,
he volunteered there, often bringing the delicious food he and Cindy prepared. On weekends, the family would pick up kids from the facility for a day of picnicking and swimming in a nearby pond.
Lorne was also an active volunteer with the House of Friendship, getting to know all the residents. But he also had the unfortunate habit of giving the men his address so it wasn’t unusual for a desperate man to show up at the family’s front door, once when Lorne was in the bathtub. Undeterred, the man asked Lorne for $5 because he was desperate.
Most people would have scolded the man for such an intrusion, but Lorne asked a family member to fetch his wallet and handed over the cash.
Their dad was very generous, said the sons, as was their mother. Both believed in giving half their salaries to charity. As adults, Jim and Paul grew to understand what a sacrifice this was, but they don’t recall ever feeling deprived.
Despite the many qualities that Lorne’s sons admired about him, there were also a few embarrassments. Such as how Lorne always stood up in church asking the congregation to pray for various people. Such prayer requests were common practice during service but Lorne took it to the full degree, with a grocery list of prayers.
“He would get up every Sunday, he never missed an opportunity,” said Paul. Even when family pulled at his pants trying to get him to sit, Lorne had a single minded determination to do the opposite.
There was one moment in Lorne’s history of declaring, however, that stays in their mind.
The gospel group, Bill Gaither Trio was performing at the Kitchener Auditorium and when they started to play Lorne’s favourite song, “The King is Coming” a song he considered his personal anthem, Lorne launched to his feet and placed his hand on his heart.
The sons recall trying to get their dad to sit down but then something remarkable happened: people all through the auditorium began standing too, until the whole place was on its feet.
It was an experience Paul and Jim will never forget, a testament to their father’s determination and his faith.