About Stuart Morrison – Legal Publishing Executive 1949 – 2011

Last year, when Thomson Reuters acquired the Canada Law Book Company, we expected that CLB’s President and CEO, Stuart Morrison would enjoy a well-earned retirement, after winding up all the Cartwright Group businesses that West didn’t acquire. That is why we were shocked to learn that he died of leukemia on Saturday.

Stuart was a real character among Canadian legal publishers, a man of strong views and language, who lived his life with gusto – he would tackle any challenge. There are stories of his bungee jumping, when all around quietly slipped away. Any opportunity to shock, he would take.

I first encountered him around 1982 at CLIC meetings, when he was a young sidekick to Wally Cowing and Stan Corbett, the then top management of Canada Law Book. Stuart spent the next 28 years at CLB – surprising, I suspect to both him, and them.

For the roughly thirty years I knew Stuart, there was pugnacity in our dealings. If there is an edge in any of my post, it comes with his character.

His was an extraordinary career in many ways. To see Stuart debate with the legal great and good, you would not have known that he was, in his own words, “a drop out from a respectable British school with its accompanying tradition of cross-dressing”. This post won’t dwell on “cross-dressing” but Stuart was right at home riding his hog with the Hells’ Angels.

He lacked any formal education after his pre A Level drop out from his minor public school in England. He fetched up in BC, where I seem to recall he joined the Attorney General’s department, under the Socred government, in the courts. Slaw readers who are bibliographic obsessives might even like to see if there are any extant copies of Stuart’s sole published work, the Victoria Family Court Maintenance Study – a work that is scarcely consonant with his subsequent career. It was the lightning strike that galvanized him, since it exposed him to the legal system. Then he persuaded to appoint him as a Justice of the Peace. Victoria was a little dull for Stuart, and it would have been impossible to see him as a bureaucrat administering traffic offences.

He reached Vancouver, where Jack Cram gave him a job at Western Legal Publications. He was in a marketing role and when Canada Law Book bought out Jack, they also acquired Stuart. They needed a marketer, and Stuart was the closest one to hand. Phil George went west, and Stuart came east to Aurora Ontario.

He was the marketing face of Canada Law Book, until after Stan’s retirement the controlling shareholders picked Stuart – rather than the company’s young publishing VP, Geralyn M. Christmas – to be the CEO. He was the CEO until the sale.

Stuart loved controversy – paradoxically, because he was, in many ways, an arch-conservative. His prime contribution to Canadian legal publishing was probably his creation of the Law Times, which in its early years was a provocative, irreverent, muck-raking publication which was fun to read and which generated a fair number of libel suits. After a few damage awards, Stuart decided that libel insurance might be a good idea, and perhaps fact checkers had their uses. After a few controversies too many, the advertisers started to walk, and Law Times pulled in its horns.

But the Law Times was always willing to puncture a few legal egos, to grade judges like any other commodity, and to pursue stories for the sheer whim of it. Stuart regarded it, as he did the Canadian Lawyer, as his personal vehicle for whatever interested him. What’s happening in post-independence South Africa? Well let’s get Morris Manning to accompany Stuart on a fact finding mission – with great wine and safaris, of course, thrown in. Then CBC interviews afterwards, on the basis of their mission.

He liked to try and influence legal opinion. But any legal newspaper is ultimately ephemeral. Stuart was a gadfly.

Stuart wasn’t a conventional legal publisher.

Hell, Stuart wasn’t a conventional anything.

Printers’ ink didn’t flow in his veins. His heart did not go pitter patter at the prospect of publishing an academic work that would transform Canadian law. Alan Marks – who ran CLB’s publishing programme in its glory days – he wasn’t.

CLB ventured tentatively into electronic publishing – but after an early investment in QL, Hugh Lawford squeezed CLB out, and it never really became an innovator. It had its law reports, of unrivalled quality, and a modest back list. It became, frankly, a little complacent. Attempts to diversify the business seldom made money.

Thirty years ago, Canada Law Book’s reputation was unparalleled – the quality of its list, and the resources it devoted to new works put it ahead of its then competitors. The slow decline matched the rise of Thomson as the dominant legal publisher in legal Canada. They weren’t easy years for Stuart. Margins were squeezed – see Stuart’s testimony in front of the Commons Heritage Committee . A relentless focus on the bottom line – on the business of publishing rather than the traditions of professional publishing.

Ultimately the only future for Canada Law Book was to be sold. The Cartwright family preferred a sale – as opposed to the major investments that might have been required to turn the business around. Stuart was the one who prepared the business for the acquisition. The family got what it wanted – and Stuart did well. Over a century of legal publishing history is scarcely visible when swallowed up by Thomson Reuters West. Stuart’s leadership of CLB was not without its critics – Ian Cartwright had been criticized as being too hands-off and Stuart was a safe pair of hands, not a publisher.

A pity he didn’t get to enjoy his rewards.

Stuart was a bundle of paradoxes. Every Stuart story had a twist. Highly opinionated, though undereducated. Canadian though somehow terribly English. Convention-shocking in a conservative trade. A legal publisher whose heart was more in marketing – and running a tight business – than publishing books. A bon vivant who put in time on the line learning how to be a sous chef. Hard headed, though with a soft centre for blind horses and vulnerable animals.

In the end a combination of malaria (picked up in Namibia) and leukemia did him in. He will be mourned and missed by his family and friends.

He didn’t want a funeral. You’ll see no obituaries. Next time you have a drink, think of him and smile. That’s all he would have done.


  1. I am so sorry that Stuart is dead. I greatly enjoyed his company, his stories and his hospitality. He was a charming man and I shall miss him. The last time I met him, he told me of his farm, his cattle and his plans for spending his time. It is sad that he wasn’t able to enjoy a long and happy retirement.

  2. Thank you Simon for an unsentimental and engaging summary of Stuart’s publishing career. He was a maverick and gloried in his capacity to get someone really wound up. He did it often enough to me. But he also scattered glamour and amusement around. And, in a good 18th Century English tradition, turned out to be a seriously good businessman concealed behind a flippant facade. I shall indeed take your recommendation and think of Stuart when I raise a glass of wine. I am sad that he is gone.

  3. Well put, Simon. While I agree completely that Stuart was an unconventional publisher, he was a publisher nonetheless and a damn good one. In re-reading his testimony before the Heritage Committee in 2004, which you referenced, I was struck by how thoughtful and forward-thinking they were and how sad it is that no one seems to have listened.

    Stuart was a fierce, if sometimes sneaky, competitor, a marvelous raconteur, and a friend. I, for one, will miss him.

  4. Alisa Posesorski

    I also met Stuart in the early 80s at CLIC. It was very interesting to watch his transition over the years from underling to senior statesman of Canadian legal publishing (albeit always with an outrageous remark at the ready and a twinkle in his eye). I never believed a word he said. He lived to provoke, and was always entertaining and gracious. He will be missed. I’m sorry he didn’t get a chance to enjoy his retirement. My sincerest condolences to his family.

  5. Simon, I was stunned by your post about Stuart – I’ve known Stuart since 1979, when we both worked at the BC Ministry of the Attorney-General: everything you have said about him is entirely appropriate and true. He had his rough edges, but I also enjoyed discussions with him about law books and legal publishing. I will certainly hoist a pint to Stuart, and at the next CALL conference I hope others will join me in doing so as well, so we can toast his contribution to the Canadian legal community.

    Neil Campbell
    Faculty of Law
    University of Victoria

  6. Well said Simon – an excellent summary of a complicated but fun individual. I only knew him in the past few years while working at CLB Media but I always admired his attitude, forthrightness, and quick sense of humour.

  7. Albert Oosterhoff

    Thank you Simon for your vivid description of Stuart’s life. I’ve known him since he joined CLB. He was a character, indeed, but one with heart. I greatly enjoyed his company, over dinner (he was always a fine and generous host) and otherwise. I am shocked that he is no more and sorry that he did not get the chance to enjoy the fruit of his labours. I shall miss him.

  8. What a shame. I worked for Stuart before the CLB acquisition at Western Legal. A classy, intelligent and fair man, I’m sure he will be missed by many. I moved on when Western Legal closed its doors in Vancouver and unfortunately lost touch with Stu. I will think of him next time I’m riding my Harley, as he loved his bike also.

  9. I was the editor of Canadian Lawyer, intent on following the righteous path blazed by Steven Brill at American Lawyer, when CLB up and bought the magazine and deputized Stuart Morrison as my controller.

    Stuart loved driving down from Aurora to visit our small office, swap law-firm gossip and breathe the air in the legal canyons. He and I were close in age and mischief-minded, and we got along famously for a time. Probably we were both living too large in the excessive 1980s for that to last.

    The first fissure came in Vancouver, at the CBA’s annual bun toss, when I bumped into Stuart after hours and found him quite over-refreshed from a tour of his old haunts. He went to the john and came back in his lady friend’s wrap, high heels and bright lipstick. He began parading the bar like the Queen of the Nile and mincing at a couple of forest workers doing beers at a nearby table.

    It was a jaw dropper — not the kind of intel that any salaryman wants on his boss, frankly. I had decided on absolute discretion by the time I got back to Toronto. But the office had already heard the story. From him. “I never hide the things I do,” he told me pointedly. “That way I can’t be blackmailed.”

    That turned out not to be strictly true, but never mind. One way or the other, our gears were soon grinding. Stuart’s self-developed notions of a publisher’s code of conduct didn’t remind me much of my Globe and Mail experiences. And being from a military family, he found me sadly lacking at toeing the line and following orders. Eventually, when the big mudfight came, the CLB fathers (big surprise) chose to forgive him for his transgressions and wrote me a cheque to get lost.

    I next saw Stuart while sitting with friends on The Esplanade. He flashed a wolfish grin my way, every inch the victor. “Look who’s having a good time on my money,” he said.

    He was an original.

  10. It was 1981, I was 20 years old and dying of boredom working in life insurance. My personnel agent (thanks, Barb!) sent me on an interview at Western Legal Publications – she enticed me with the underdog tale of how Jack started the company and said I might get along well with Stuart – the young, handsome Englishman running the operation. I really wanted a change and it all sounded much more romantic than my current situation.

    I wandered in through a sliding glass door (were these Jack’s old balcony doors?) on to bright, orange shag carpet. There was no reception area – I turned left and was directed into the office of the General Manager. Behind the General Manager’s desk was an attractive fellow with a black, leather motorcycle jacket He was laying back in his chair with his feet on the desk smoking cigarettes (Players’ Light regulars). He introduced himself as Stuart Morrison (did not rise from his seat or shake hands) and proceeded to ask three questions with the fourth being, “Can you do the job?” I said, “Of course!” and he peered over his sunglasses, looked me in the eye (for the first time as far as I could tell) ending the interview with “Start Monday.”

    Words that came to mind after that interview: “What a self-indulgent pr*ck. What have you gotten yourself into?”; arrogant; abrupt; cocky; and attractive. He turned out to be the best boss I ever had and a most entertaining friend who would:

    *find ways and reasons to regularly say lewd and lascivious
    *drink and dance with you at the Gandy Dancer
    *drink too much and leave you stuck with bill at Il Giardino
    *dismiss you from work early to ride on the back of his Ducati to someone else’s house in the British Properties for a dip in their pool
    *make you feel invisible one minute and then like the centre of the universe the next
    *help you make fun of both your ex-husbands over martinis
    *allude to situations that you would take as fact and then find out years later – no, that never happened or no, I never slept with him (multiple sources, both sexes)

    Mentor is not a word I would ascribe to Stuart and yet, by observing his chameleon-like manner in business and social situations over 19 years, he taught me a lot. He was the master of “It’s just business.” A lesson I needed to learn. He loved food and drink (especially on someone else’s dime) but could play the game while maintaining his own brand of integrity. I would bet Stuart was a great time for many of us and an opportunity for the adjective “irreverent” to be used in casual conversation. Which despite his aloof exterior would probably provide him with some twisted pleasure. Especially, if you can tell your story within earshot of the staunchest, most pompous, conservative-type you know. Oh, and embellish it a little by adding that you slept with him, even if you didn’t. He wouldn’t mind…

  11. Isabel Wrotkowski

    Stuie – I was thinking about you when I drove through Aurora for the first time in years just last night – only to hear today that I’ll never be able to use you as a reference again!
    I met Stuart through his second ex-wife. I was working in the marketing department of a large trust company and as a good corporate citizen – we produced the program for one of the Toronto Arts communities at that time. Although she and I had never met, we had a phone relationship. She mentioned that Stuart was looking for a Production Manager for Canadian Lawyer Magazine and wanted my permission to put my name forward. I jumped at the opportunity. Getting together for an interview became a challenge. We were in the midst of producing both our quarterly reports and a corporate annual report – I was working 24/7.
    Stuart suggested meeting me at my current place of employment to conduct the interview! I informed the security guard that I was expecting a guest and Stuart showed up right on time – 7:30 am – between press proofs on a Saturday morning. I bought him a coke and talked about anything but work or work experience. At the end of 2 hours he asked when I could start. I asked if he wanted to see my resume and he told me it wasn’t necessary – I had the job as soon as I bought him the coke!
    Working with him was one of the best experiences of my life. I would have stayed with him to the end if my new husband has not taken a job in Guelph. He was all the things mentioned in the previous blogs – in addition, he was a humanitarian and a giant softy. I can’t count how many times he helped someone out when I was around. He never expected to see a return – he was just nice. He taught me about good wine and great food. He made me laugh and never had a mean thing to say to me. I will miss him. I will raise a glass to him at the earliest opportunity and smile while regailing who he was. Rest in peace Stuie.

  12. I met Stuart in 1976 when I was a student at the University Of Victoria. He lived just down the street on Carbury Gardens. We had mutual friends – both straight and gay. In those days, Stuart’s behaviour and lifestyle was a combination of hedonism, fierce intelligence, and ambition. He was never an easy or forgiving friend and you could be summarily removed from his roster of visitors – or reinstated on a whim.

    We both located in Toronto in the early 80’s and this was, frankly, a pretty wild time in Stuart’s life. Torontonians will remember the infamous downtown bistro, Bemmelman’s, the “it” spot for many. The tales of excess in those days are numerous, and Stuart was an avid seeker of refreshment who engaged in many horizontal jogging marathons with willing partners of both sexes.

    As we progressed into the 90’s, some of our cohort checked into the Betty Ford, others slowed their pace and re-channeled their energy. Stuart began to focus on polishing the upbringing of his handsome teenage sons, completed the renovation of a row house in an edgy part of town, and took up with the very attractive Kelly Morefield. His principal indulgences coalesced into a good lamb dinner, a few scotches and a stirring opera.

    Alas, my partner Trevor and I once again became persona non grata, for reasons we didn’t fully understand, and this development coincided with Stuart’s move to the lovely countryside just North of Toronto, where we learned he became a gentleman farmer. Outspoken, impatient, irreverent, and charming, Stuart told wonderful stories about terribly un-PC topics such as “hunting for Bambi”, skewering the ego of a noted lawyer or political figure, or sparring with one of the lovely women with whom he enjoyed serial monogamy.

    I recall a dinner at his home on a sunny summer evening with several friends and his yappy Bichon Frise in attendance. A lamb roast in the oven, wine and other libations flowing freely, Stuart’s sharp grin, his witty and acerbic comments, and opera pouring from the stereo. I remember feeling that life just doesn’t get any better than this. And, in the presence of this complex, handsome, charming and uncompromising man, it didn’t. Goodbye, Stuart

  13. I first met Stuart when I co-authored (with Winkler, CJO) a volume of O’Brien’s Encyclopaedia for CLB, and came to know him better as a fellow publisher when, as an antidote to law practice, I got involved in Lancaster House. From the start I liked Stuart, and I think that what I really liked about him was his lighthearted irreverence, his disarming candour, his caustic sense of humour and his irrepressible desire to “epater le bourgeois.” Once, I said: “You know, Stuart, your Law Times newspaper is half information, and half trash.” Without missing a beat, he said: “You’re half right!” Another time, I said: “Stuart, I have a really great idea.” Instantly he replied: “Don’t tell me. I’ll steal it!” What a likeable rogue, I thought. So it really surprised me when Stuart subsequently phoned me to urge that I intervene on behalf of a widowed CLB staff member whose claim for spousal benefits had been denied by an insurance company. Indeed he never stopped calling until the widow’s claim was allowed. It was only then that I realized that I had finally seen the real Stuart Morrison. Requiescat in pace.

  14. My apologies on the original post.

    Some of Stuart’s friends have pointed out that I trimmed a year from his age (inadvertently) and got wrong just exactly when the Manning and Morrison boondoggle to South Africa actually took place – had I access to digital records of the Canadian Lawyer or Law Times, I would have got more facts right.

    Keep the stories coming – he would have appreciated their candour.

  15. It has been as helpful as it has been hard reading all of your remembrances of my father. He was, as many above have pointed out in understatement, a complicated man.

    His death was a terrible shock to my brother and I, remote as we are here in Vancouver. I had hoped that he would have been able to see his grandchildren more while enjoying his retirement. Selfishly, I had very much hoped the same for myself. To know that I won’t ever see him again and that my children will only ever know the vibrancy of his character through my reminiscences and those of his uncle (there are so many grand ones) is especially difficult. “Life is complex,” was the Cheshire line he would habitually employ, rather frustratingly, whenever I would seek his counsel. It used to drive me nuts. But to hear him say it one more time…

    Love to you, Mr Brown, for making me laugh a little. Those teenage years on Belsize Drive made for a most fascinating parade.

  16. Courtesy of Philip Quinn, here is a profile of Stuart, the guy who loved his toys, preferably fast and turbo-charged.

    It came from the National Post Drivers’ Edge publication in 2002 – not as far as I can tell available digitally anywhere.

    Worth reading for the insights into Stuart and for the anecdote of Eddie Greenspan – onetime biker – and we mean one time.


    The ultimate 60s fantasy for a boy growing up in England was not Raquel Welch starring in the movie One Million Years B.C. but the North American muscle car.

    They were in short supply over there and it wasn’t until his career was established in Canada, that Stuart Morrison, 53, president of Canada Law Book Inc., was able to realize his dream, first buying a Pontiac Trans Am then a Chevrolet IROC convertible.

    “I drove minis (in England) so when I came over here the idea of driving a big muscle car was appealing.”

    He’s still in love with speed whether it’s driving his turbo-charged Subaru Impreza WRX or radically transforming what was once a very traditional legal publishing company into a multi-dimensional business publishing Canadian Lawyer magazine and Law Times, and a variety of industrial trade magazines such as Advanced Manufacturing, and Structured Cabling.

    “My business is primarily now either in licensing our (legal) data or acquisitions of companies in the magazine area.”

    As we drive through the side streets of Aurora near where Canada Law Book is located, our voices are almost drowned out by powerful revving of the WRX’s 227 hp engine.

    “I was not pre-sold (on the WRX) until the first time I accelerated through the gears. I was very impressed by everything I had read about it and the performance data looked good on paper. But the first time I actually drove the vehicle I was sold. I went from a 370 hp automatic (a Jaguar) to this and it has comparable performance. Its maneuverability equal to the Jag’s in good weather and far superior in bad weather.”

    He liked the fact that the WRX like all Subarus has all wheel drive all the time (which some have judged to be the best in the industry).

    “In the winter the car is brilliant. It’s never put a foot wrong. Where I have a cottage (Mulmur near the town of Creemore) there’s dirt roads and gravel and it goes through everything.”

    He tried other all-wheel drive vehicles such as the Porsche 911 Cabriolet but the far less expensive WRX had something these other vehicles didn’t have, room for Bailey, his 80 lb. Labrador Retriever.

    “I’m an outdoor person. It fits all my gear—even picnic tables to put on the boat (he owns a 40-foot Carver 390 motor yacht which he lives on during the summer), and 200 lb. propane tanks to put in the cottage.”

    After he bought the car in November 2001, he noticed just a bit of a lag in the turbo and brought it to the attention of the staff at Downtown Subaru in Toronto.

    “It was hesitating for a nano second between 5500 rpm and 6,000, so I took it in and they pointed out ‘you had to be driving it fast for it to hesitate’ and I said, ‘I drive it fast all the time so they fixed it’.”

    As the WRX speedily climbs the hilly roads surrounding Aurora, I ask Mr. Morrison ‘do you race this thing?’

    “Racing is illegal,” he insists.

    However at times he’s raced motorcycles and cars around the approved circuits at Mosport and Shannonville.

    While owning his Ducati 900 GTS, he hung out with writer George Jonas’s Ducati racing club and zipped around the Mosport track with other team members such as film director, David Cronenberg.

    “Cronenberg used the cylinder heads from a Ducati as the transponder in his movie The Fly.”

    In fact, Mr. Morrison has shown an amazing ability over the years to blend his social and professional lives.

    “(Lawyer) Eddie Greenspan writes Martin’s Criminal Code for us…George Jonas did some work for us…the only time Greenspan ever rode a motorcycle was under the direction of Jonas. As he points out it was his first and only experience. He got on the bike, started it up, put it into gear and drove headlong into a brick wall and broke both his wrists. He’s not fond of motorcycles.”

    For a few years, Mr. Morrison wasn’t either after he took a spill off his Ducati.

    “I crashed it at Mosport during the Ducati club days. The accelerator stuck wide open and the kill switch had been disconnected. I was on a straight doing 160 km/h and had a high side crash over the front when I tried to bring the bike under control. I broke my shoulder.”

    He’s back to riding bikes, and owns a Kawasaki KLR 650 and just recently test drove the Kawasaki ZRX 1200 R.

    However, he does the daily commute from downtown Toronto to Aurora in his five-speed WRX and time spent in traffic has allowed him to get to know the car inside out.

    “The only problem with the car is its interior,” he explains. “It’s very lacking and there’s no upgrades available. You can’t even get a leather interior. I have to use a seat cushion in the car because I found my back was killing me. The seats are not adjustable to any great extent. But then again I went from a Jaguar XKR convertible that sells for $113,000 to a car that costs $35,000.

    But he’s prepared to put up with a little discomfort in return for the WRX’s combination of speed, maneuverability, and practicality. In fact, he’s trying to get his hands on the WRX upgrade called the STi which is not yet available in Canada. It turns out 276 horsepower at 6400 rpm.

    “It’s available in Australia and England,” he explains. “I’ve talked to the dealership about getting one.”

  17. Thanks, Simon, for an accurate portrait of such a knotty individual as Stuart. Not an easy task, but you managed it admirably. Of course, one can’t help thinking what Stuart would have thought — impossible to know, which of course was one if his “attractions,” the unpredictablity of his reactions. I met Stuart when CLB took over Canadian Lawyer Magazine, which I was art directing at the time. It became immediately apparent to Stuart that I was a) English (albeit from a different social strata than him) and b) gay. At which point Stuart set out immediately to demonstrate big-time that he was no boring, small ‘c’ conservative publisher. Which, I have to admit, was a lot of fun. We had a blast working together, produced some fine designs, and became fast friends.
    I like to think, that, were it not for me, this obituary would have been published some twenty years ago. At that time I had a modest and quite remote cabin in the Mulmur countryside north of Toronto. Before buying his own house in the area, Stuart liked to come and visit me for a day or a weekend, often unannounced, which was fine by me. One particularly frigid Saturday afternoon with temperatures at 20-degrees below or colder I decided, suffering from cabin fever, to head back to the city. I packed up and left, but when I reached Orangeville, about half-an-hour into the journey, it began to snow heavily so I turned around to return to the cabin. As I approached my property I saw something metallic off to one side amongst the large trees that grew to the side of my driveway — the large object would have not been visible from the road, which was little-used anyway. On closer inspection I realized it was a Jeep that had obviously slid off the drive and into the trees. It was wedged firmly between two tree trunks. As I floundered through the deep snow I saw a hand give a regal wave from the front seat, and saw Stuart’s smiling if pallid face. Teddy, Stuart’s despicable dog, was going bananas at his side. Two tree trunks prevented him opening either door of the two-door Jeep, and, as I learned later, there was no way of opening the back door from inside. Teddy might have made it out of a window but there was no way Stuart could squeeze out. This was an era before the widespread use of cell phones so Stuart was completely incommunicado. Had I not changed my mind and returned home, Stuart would certainly have died of cold, once the gas ran out and the heater failed. When a tow truck eventually pulled the Jeep free and Stuart and Teddy were released I seem to remember Stuart saying, blithely, that hypothermia was “probably quite a nice way to die.”
    Although we lost touch in the last while, I always thought I’d see Stuart again — I’m not totally discounting the idea, simply because he was, to use a trite expression, larger than life.

  18. I just learned of Stuart’s passing, and was saddened. I was the editor of a magazine about the Canadian magazine industry from 2000-2007. On several occasions I had reason to interview Stuart, in his role as head of CLB Media. He was always refreshingly, shockingly frank. He would utter the most outrageous things. Tough to know, early on in our relation, if he was serious. (He was.) I was an avid motorcyclist, as was Stuart, so we connected on additional levels. He loved his KLR 650 dual purpose bike. I would run into him at work functions. He’d arrive in his Porsche. I visited his Greenbank hobby farm a couple of times, too. He drove me around his many-acred property on his quad. He beamed as he explained his plans for it. This would have been around 2008. I met his partner, Debbie, and enjoyed a Thanksgiving dinner with them around that time. Charming hosts, both, and my condolences to you, Debbie, and to Stuart’s sons.

    No mention has been made in these remembrances of Michael Fitz-James, the editor of Canadian Lawyer Magazine, a CLB title. I don’t know if Stuart was responsible for hiring Mike but I do know Mike and Stuart worked together at CLB. Mike died too soon as well, in 2005, of Lou Gehrig’s. Mike was gruff and no-nonsense as well. I never learned how Stuart and Mike got along but they were birds of a feather.

    I’m dumbfounded at Stuart’s passing. He wasn’t that old. I never kept in constant touch with him but, driving south on Hwy 35 the other day, through Sunderland, I saw a sign that said “Stewart Morrison Insurance” and wondered if that was him (despite the improper spelling of his fist name — perhaps I remembered it incorrectly.) I knew he was recently retired from CLB and thought, hey, maybe he’s into the insurance biz now. When I got home I Googled it and, eventually, learned of his passing.

    I remember Stuart. He was the sort of fellow you don’t forget. I wanted to see him again. I won’t. Not in this life, anyway…

    I want to thank all who have shared their remembrances of him. I really enjoyed reading all of them. He was obviously the object of much affection. An authentic man.