CCNA - Best Feature, Autumn MacDonald
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Friday, May 7, 2010 VOL. 97 NO. 70 www.quesnelobserver.com $ 1 19 + 5 % GST RELAY SUPPORTERS .......... A3 HERITAGE BUFFS ............. A14 TURKEY SHOOT ...............A20 2008 WINNER QUESNEL - CARIBOO OBSERVER SINCE 1908 Why he PARTYs AUTUMN MacDONALD Observer Reporter It’s about choices and realizing how they impact those around you. That’s why Christopher Fitzger- ald dedicates his time to the Prevent Alcohol and Risk-Related Trauma in Youth program. In his third year with PARTY, Fitzgerald says it’s about eliciting emotion. Trying to impress upon young minds the consequences of actions, the pain those choices would cause loved ones and the ability to change ones’ path. He speaks in a low voice, silently opening the heavy back door of the hearse, Fitgerald shows the group of Grade 11s the casket cor- ridor, the “final ride.” Sneakered feet shuffle into the garage where nostrils detect Fitzgerald’s last cigarette. Hands jammed in pockets he ushers the teens into the embalm- ing room. It’s bright, crowded, hot and sterile. The table gleams, fluids line the walls. He briefly explains procedure, no drawn-out careful language is used. It might dilute the hard truth. He displays their choice of cas- kets and traces a long finger along the smooth pine of someone’s final resting place. Fitzgerald chokes up when discussing eulogies he’s given, families he’s worked with and lives lost. He steadies his voice and rests his eyes on his audience. It’s the ones who get it, he says, the ones you know you’ve reached. And having met them, having brought them into his world he smiles and tilts his head: “I have more hope for the future.” PARTY runs yearly and is offered to all Grade 11 students. To learn more about the program, www. partyprogram.com. Check out next Friday’s Observ- er for the final PARTY installment. AUTUMN MacDONALD Observer Reporter H e does his best work at night. By the light of the moon, the silence of sleep is interrupted by the songs of Josh Groban and Lady Gaga as the hands of Christopher Fitzgerald glide over a loved one, preparing them for their final resting place. He breaks, goes into the garage and paces as he writes the eulogy. Smoke curls above his head as he finds that perfect verse, that one word that will bring peace, comfort and closure to those left behind. This isn’t a job. It’s a service and Fitzgerald is humbled to be a part of the eternal chain of life, death, pain and comfort. Landing the job and undergoing rigorous training was “accidental,” but Fitzgerald says everything he’s ever done has guided him to his life’s work, which he is practising at Clayton’s Funeral Directors. From gardening to model construction, from his time spent as a truck driver to 15 years as a behavioural therapist, from his time as a soldier, Fitzgerald firmly believes his “past lives” have prepared him for what he’s meant to do. “Nothing is ever wasted,” he says softly. He takes comfort from watching others achieve a sliver of peace while going through the grieving process. He doesn’t believe life is supposed to be all pleasure. “We’re always hunting for more,” he says, his eyes focused on the burning ember of his cigarette. “But we can’t appreciate it because we keep running from the pain.” He smiles wryly and flicks the ash. Fitzgerald was 14 when he heard the shrill scream of the telephone. He stood frozen, watching as his mother picked up the phone and heard the news her sister was dead. It was Christmas. She had died in a car accident on her way to visit them. “Watching her go through the stages of grief, the agony,” Fitzgerald says, pausing as he stares at his hands. “I take solace from what I do now, knowing I might help, knowing I might have a part in that.” He says it’s the moments of pure pain laced with closure that reinforce his destiny. The mother unsteadily walking into the room, sitting down and reaching for the hand of her son. He’s not there. It’s his shell. But she’s able to touch him one last time, to stroke his palm and tell him, “I’m sorry.” Fitzgerald says apologies are a constant, grief a complicated emotion. But, to know the opportunity was guided by his hand, in the ink of twilight while Gaga fills the speakers, settles his heavy heart. Those are his moments. With death his companion and grief close behind, these times of punishing agony are Christopher Fitzgerald’s honour. Midnight Angel Midnight Angel Christopher Fitzgerald believes in the honour of his profession. Autumn MacDonald photo Deb Quick, Travel Consultant Toll Free: 1 866 992 5169 BCReg#23929 www.AskDeb.ca 250-992-5169 in Quesnel Conditions apply 266 Carson Ave. 250-992-3673 Come preview the 2011 Superduty Pick-up May 12 th 5 - 8 pm
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CCNA 2011 Premier Award Finalists Best Feature Story - Circ. 4,000 to 12,499 Autumn MacDonald, Quesnel Cariboo Observer
Transcript of CCNA - Best Feature, Autumn MacDonald
Friday, May 7, 2010 VOL. 97 NO. 70 www.quesnelobserver.com $119 + 5% GST
RELAY SUPPORTERS ..........A3HERITAGE BUFFS .............A14TURKEY SHOOT...............A20
2008 WINNER
QUESNEL - CARIBOO
OBSERVERSINCE 1908
Why he PARTYs
AUTUMN MacDONALD
Observer Reporter
It’s about choices and realizing how they impact those around you.
That’s why Christopher Fitzger-ald dedicates his time to the Prevent Alcohol and Risk-Related Trauma in Youth program.
In his third year with PARTY, Fitzgerald says it’s about eliciting emotion. Trying to impress upon young minds the consequences of actions, the pain those choices would cause loved ones and the ability to change ones’ path.
He speaks in a low voice, silently opening the heavy back door of the hearse, Fitgerald shows the group of Grade 11s the casket cor-ridor, the “fi nal ride.”
Sneakered feet shuffl e into the garage where nostrils detect Fitzgerald’s last cigarette.
Hands jammed in pockets he ushers the teens into the embalm-ing room. It’s bright, crowded, hot and sterile. The table gleams, fl uids line the walls. He briefl y explains procedure, no drawn-out careful language is used.
It might dilute the hard truth.He displays their choice of cas-
kets and traces a long fi nger along the smooth pine of someone’s fi nal resting place.
Fitzgerald chokes up when discussing eulogies he’s given, families he’s worked with and lives lost.
He steadies his voice and rests his eyes on his audience.
It’s the ones who get it, he says, the ones you know you’ve reached.
And having met them, having brought them into his world he smiles and tilts his head: “I have more hope for the future.”
PARTY runs yearly and is offered to all Grade 11 students. To learn more about the program, www.partyprogram.com.
Check out next Friday’s Observ-er for the fi nal PARTY installment.
AUTUMN MacDONALD
Observer Reporter
He does his best work at night.
By the light of the moon, the silence of sleep is interrupted by the songs of Josh Groban and Lady Gaga as the hands of Christopher Fitzgerald glide over a loved one, preparing them for their fi nal resting place.
He breaks, goes into the garage and paces as he writes the eulogy. Smoke curls above his head as he fi nds that perfect verse, that one word that will bring peace, comfort and closure to those left behind.
This isn’t a job. It’s a service and Fitzgerald is humbled to be a part of the eternal chain of life, death, pain and comfort.
Landing the job and undergoing rigorous training was “accidental,” but Fitzgerald says everything he’s ever done has guided him to his life’s work, which he is practising at Clayton’s Funeral Directors.
From gardening to model construction, from his time spent as a truck driver to 15 years as a behavioural
therapist, from his time as a soldier, Fitzgerald fi rmly believes his “past lives” have prepared him for what he’s meant to do.
“Nothing is ever wasted,” he says softly.
He takes comfort from watching others achieve a sliver of peace while going through the grieving process.
He doesn’t believe life is supposed to be all pleasure.
“We’re always hunting for more,” he says, his eyes
focused on the burning ember of his cigarette.
“But we can’t appreciate it because we keep running from the pain.”
He smiles wryly and fl icks the ash.
Fitzgerald was 14 when he heard the shrill scream of the telephone.
He stood frozen, watching as his mother picked up the phone and heard the news her sister was dead.
It was Christmas.
She had died in a car accident on her way to visit them.
“Watching her go through the stages of grief, the agony,” Fitzgerald says, pausing as he stares at his hands.
“I take solace from what I do now, knowing I might help, knowing I might have a part in that.”
He says it’s the moments of pure pain laced with closure that reinforce his destiny.
The mother unsteadily walking into the room, sitting down and reaching for the hand of her son. He’s not there. It’s his shell. But she’s able to touch him one last time, to stroke his palm and tell him, “I’m sorry.”
Fitzgerald says apologies are a constant, grief a complicated emotion.
But, to know the opportunity was guided by his hand, in the ink of twilight while Gaga fi lls the speakers, settles his heavy heart.
Those are his moments.With death his companion
and grief close behind, these times of punishing agony are Christopher Fitzgerald’s honour.
Midnight AngelMidnight Angel
Christopher Fitzgerald
believes in the honour of
his profession.Autumn MacDonald photo
Deb Quick, Travel ConsultantToll Free: 1 866 992 5169
BCReg#23929
www.AskDeb.ca
250-992-5169 in Quesnel
Conditions apply
266 Carson Ave.250-992-3673
Come preview the
2011Superduty
Pick-upMay 12th
5 - 8 pm
