By: Russell Bowers

In the four decades since the tragedy of the Ocean Ranger, the impact of that event resonates still in the psyche of Canadians. Families acrosç this province felt it most closely, even ones who didn’t have loved ones directly involved. But families in Ontario and across the western prairies also felt the grief as they too suffered loss.

The joys of living here

Artists in this province often write about and reflect the joys of living here, and similarly, they know how to express our collective sorrow when those rare but too often tragedies visit our lives. The sense of loss around the Ocean Ranger was still palpable in 1989 when Ron Hynes went into a radio studio to do an interview about songs on which he was then working. 

The beloved troubadour who penned Sonny’s Dream along with co-writing many other favourites was asked about his latest work, and with little fanfare, he picked up his guitar and played a song called Atlantic Blue.

A list of names 

Glen Tilley is a St. John’s producer and musician (not to be confused with the former news anchor, Glenn Tilley) and he was in the studio at CBC when Ron arrived that day. He also remembers the Ocean Ranger vividly.  

“I had a cousin who was killed on the Ranger. There was another guy we all knocked around with who was in my kindergarten class. I used to go to school with a guy named Freddy Harnum, for like 11 years, as you did back in those days at Bishop’s Field. When the list of names came out, (music producer) Claude Caines’ brother was on it. I was at that age, where I might have been on the rig working, that age group when this all broke in the ‘80s.

‘Hand of God’

Tilley would eventually produce a radio play about the tragedy called Hand of God, written by Joan MacLeod. Short thereafter, he got a call from another CBC producer about Ron Hynes to ask him to come in and play a new song. At this point no one knew what song Hynes had in mind.

“It would have been the Fall of 1988, so it wasn’t connected to an anniversary or anything. I don’t recall if he went into too much detail about the song other than he was working on it. I’ve since read that Ron was working on this song for five or six years. It was too overwhelming (for him) at the beginning.”

“Ron always played the tragic hero in his own songs, but this one, he managed to challenge that by asking who are the heroes, writing it from one woman’s perspective.”

“Ron started to sing and technically, he sounded very beautiful. I remember putting my head down and slowly the song started to reveal itself. But when you get to the second verse, and that Valentine lyric, it got to the personal. I still feel emotional about it because I could think of all the people that I knew with both family and friends who were lost. And the weight and gravity of this song. I turned to (CBC recording engineer) Terry Winsor and said, ‘this is one of the most amazing experiences of my life here.’ 

“And then, as Ron would do, he finished the song, talked a little about it and then he packed up his guitar, and left. And that was the first time the song was performed in public.”

No one but Ron Hynes could have written that song, Tilley continued. 

“Nobody who walked among us could absorb and realize what that tragedy did to this community. No one else could express it in such a delicate, beautiful, yet deeply resonant way that only Ron Hynes could do.”

NFLD folk music

In the 30-plus years since the composition of Atlantic Blue, a handful of Canadian artists such as Valdy, Tara McLean, and Kim Stockwood have tried to put their own imprint on the song for other Canadians. 

But as you watch the few Ron Hynes performances on YouTube, it’s clear that the song is singularly his.  

“In the annals of Newfoundland folk music, this song will endure. Generations from now, people may not understand it’s about an oil rig, but it’s equally transferable to anybody lost at sea in a tragedy. I would hold this up against anybody who has written anything anywhere to capture the sensitivity of loss and mourning.”

Having a gab with Rick Mercer while he’s hove off in his shed at home in Newfoundland is like talking with an ol’ buddy from ‘ome, because that’s exactly what he is! Mercer’s experiences growing up in picturesque Middle Cove mirror many other Newfoundlanders and Labradorian’s childhoods – or those who were blessed enough to have the freedoms that accompany a rural raisin’, that is. 

When we jump on the phone, like all good Newfoundlanders, our first bit of business is the weather. Today’s forecast? Cold but crisp and sunny. Loves it!

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Mercer admits he’s relaxing at home, sat back all comfy in his glorious shed and that he’s feeling pretty chill, which means he’s got all the time in the world to yarn.

“The shed’s been glorious, except in the winter. It just didn’t matter how big a fire you had in, it wouldn’t work. And then my buddy and I figured out a design, and then he built this Plexiglas sliding window that now keeps me warm. It’s fantastic,” he opened. 

“For a man with no discernible skills, you’ve  done quite well,” I inform him, stealing a line directly from his latest book, Rick Mercer: Talking to Canadians. 

“That’s right. I suppose I have,” he replied – thankfully getting the reference. 

Talking to Canadians is a sensory treat – hitting all the buttons and stirring up all the feels. There’s comedy of course, from how Mercer glued his hand to his forehead in class one day just to get a laugh to how much he sucked at the Flexed Arm Hang in gym class. 

There’s also many touching moments, like sharing tidbits about growing up in Middle Cove or wee little tales about his parents. His dad could make bread or build a house, and his mom was not to be fooled with as becomes evident throughout the memoir. While Mercer declares the only tool he himself can use with any skill is a corkscrew (he also knows his way around the operation of left-over Pride Parade glows sticks, apparently) it soon becomes quite clear that his life’s calling would only require him to master a sense of humour and tenacity. In fact, it was failure that set Mercer on the path to fame.

Show Me the Button

While not wanting to give too much away and ruin reader’s own enjoyment of this delightful yarn, it was the debut of his one-man show, Show Me the Button: I’ll Push It – or Charles Lynch Must Die, that helped chart Mercer’s television course. 

While filled with titillating tidbits and triumphant tales and a whole bunch of hilarity and humour, what really pops out is a heap-load of gratitude. 

“That’s it exactly,” he said. While he offers there was no “oh yeah!” moment when it came to his career trajectory, what his life’s path really has been is a whole bunch of near random encounters.   “It’s not like I had epiphanies when I was writing the book, but I always knew I was lucky and I always knew luck had a factor in any success that I had. And I talk about how important it is to have luck, which of course, you can’t control. But I also realize how blessed I am. 

“So it’s true; I have gratitude. I always knew I was lucky and now I know I’m also very grateful because you cross paths with people and you might only know them for three days or three weeks or something like that, but certain people you cross paths with change the trajectory of your life or your career and those encounters can make all the difference in the world,” he said. 

Newfoundland Roots

Another thing he’s grateful for? His Newfoundland roots. “You don’t think about this at all when you’re growing up, but I think about it now – how lucky I was to grow up in the place that I grew up in. Middle Cove was just so great at the time. You don’t really realize it. That’s why I say I don’t like to dwell too much on my childhood. It’s too painful. Not for me, but for anyone who was not lucky enough to grow up where I did because it was pretty bloody ideal.”

Mercer shared that he’s often caught off guard, even by other Newfoundlanders, when he spins yarns of growing up.  

“I can’t tell you how many times I would be telling a story and I’d be almost embarrassed because my life was so good. I think we were doing 22 Minutes and I was talking to Mary Walsh and she said, “Where did you grow up, anyway?” Because my stories would always involve the pond behind the house that we skated on, or the goat or the pony, or riding our bikes to the beach. It was just this fantastic boy’s life, and I think it pissed people off,” he said with a laugh. 

Mercer’s parents are living nearby and we ask what they think of the tell-all book. 

“I think they’re happy. I think they’ve always had a really healthy, nonchalant attitude towards my career. And that’s been very grounding. And I think they’re proud of all their kids. They certainly get a kick out of it when something cool happens, like when their son just happens to be on the cover of The Herald because as everyone in Newfoundland knows, that’s a pretty big deal. They’re always kind of bemused by that.”

Does he miss being on television? Yes and no, he responded. “I’m still happy with the decision to wrap up the show  and of course no one knows what television will look like in five years, let alone for five minutes. It’s changing so quickly, and so I don’t know if I want to do a television project as I don’t know what that project would look like, and I don’t know where it would be. But for the time being, I’ve been really happy exploring new things.”

Just for Laughs

Touring the country with Just for Laughs and doing standup in “big, beautiful theaters” is one thing he’s looking forward to, he shared,

And he enjoys writing, so there could possibly be more of that, he teased. 

 Everyone remembers the famed Mercer Rants. He reflected on the pressure he put on himself to perfect those in one take so as to not inconvenience any crew member, sharing that some are still “etched into his memory” from the hours and hours of practice. 

The book has many incredible pictures from his past, and we ask about the cover image. 

“That was the poster for my first one man show. So it’s a Justin Hall photograph. Justin, of course, is a great Newfoundland photographer. So I went to the Salvation Army and got my first sports jacket and the sleeves were about four inches too long. And that photo was the poster for Show Me the Button: I’ll Push It – or Charles Lynch Must Die.” 

A pivotal career moment at just 19 years of age, the photo makes perfect sense. We chat about the irony of him having had a career in television when television was considered “an idiot box” in his home growing up. 

“I write about my parents and their bizarre attitude towards television, but I’m really having fun more than anything because it’s not like they were pathologically opposed to television. They, like so many people back then, thought it was a waste of time.”

There wasn’t going to be a television in the Mercer home until they could afford a piano, because both were quite expensive. “Of course, as a child who didn’t play piano, it seemed like the most ridiculous thing in the world to me then, right?” he said with a chuckle. 

Inspired by Ray Guy

Did anyone inspire his style of satire? Ray Guy is mentioned, of course. While the heyday of Guy’s career was before Mercer’s time, he did read Guy’s collection of stories later in life, he shared. 

“I was fortunate enough to know (Guy) a little bit, but not that much and I never worked with him. He was a very shy guy. When I would try to talk to him … at a Christmas party, he would kind of disappear into the chair. But he was always very gracious and I was a big fan of him as a playwright. He had such a sharp pen. Nothing lazy. And I’ve always hated anytime I get a whiff of lazy writing. There was nothing lazy about Ray Guy, that’s for sure.” 

Speaking of not being lazy, Mercer’s brilliance during his Talking to Americans days is legendary. Mercer recently went back to look at some of the show’s transcripts, and even he was impressed, he offered. 

“I couldn’t believe how funny the transcript was. And then I went back and started watching some of the episodes to write this book, and I just remember myself and Pete Sutherland, my cameraman/producer/director, just laughing with tears coming down our cheeks as we were doing it,” he recalled fondly.

It wasn’t work really, he shared. All he really had to do was come up with the questions to ask. 

“All I had to do was come up with increasingly absurd scenarios about Canada. And I would always go in saying, ‘no one is ever going to believe that we were going to legalize insulin this week.’ That was our favorite one for some reason. When the guy said, ‘Congratulations, Canada for legalizing insulin,’ it still makes me laugh. People will believe anything I think,” he laughed. 

As is discovered in Talking to Canadians, Talking to Americans happened by accident. Not giving anything away, however, just know the show’s origins is but another example of Mercer’s “luck.” 

The Rick Mercer Report

Another example of Mercer’s gratitude on display is reflected on his show The Rick Mercer Report. 

“There’s this attitude that emanates from big cities sometimes where they go to a place and the first thing they say is, ‘Oh, the airport is so small.’ Mm-Hmm. No, you’re just a small person. Just keep your mouth shut and listen and look around and maybe you might learn something about this place.”

That was his Mercer Report philosophy, he shared.  “It was an open road for us because celebrating is not something that comes natural to comedians. Comedians generally are known for tearing down, and there’s a place for that, absolutely, but not our show. If we went to Lab City to do the Labrador Winter Games, we were covering it just like we covered the Olympics in Beijing.” 

And Mercer always made sure his proud Newfoundland roots were on display. “Behind the news desk, the map of Canada that was over our shoulders, Newfoundland was about three times the size of Quebec. And it was also kind of in the center. It was the Newfoundland-centered world,” he said.

In fact, his entire career has been about celebrating home. “Everything I’ve done has been informed by the fact that I’m from Newfoundland. And certainly everything about 22 Minutes in the early days was informed by the fact that the people who created it came from Newfoundland. “

What’s next for Mercer? A cross-Canada comedy tour, and possibly more writing.  He’ll enjoy his time home in the meantime, enjoying the East Coast Trail (he has a Park’s Canada jacket he sometimes wears to the delight of other hikers  – locals and tourists) and his Plexiglass/wood-stove heated shed. 

As for Christmas plans? It’s family time, he shared. “I’ll be in Middle Cove where my parents are and have a very low key Christmas with a great dinner and enjoy family and the usual hangers on and just feel really very lucky.” 

For more, visit  rickmercer.com or to get a copy of the book visit penguinrandomhouseca or pop in anywhere books are sold locally.

Stacey McGunnigle and Aba Amuquandoh join Newfoundlanders Mark Critch and Trent McClellan as main cast members of the long-running sketch satirical comedy series.

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Amuquandoh is an actress, writer, stand up comedian as well as a sketch performer. She trained and performed as an actress at the University of Toronto before going on to pursue Conservatory training at the Second City Toronto.

Joining the award winning cast of This Hour Has 22 Minutes on CBC, she is now the youngest ever cast member. She also co-hosts Nostalgique, which was ranked at number two amongst the top five funniest podcasts in the Toronto Star, where she was also featured as one of Canada’s rising stars. You can also see more of Aba this winter as the host of CBC’s Best in Miniature!

McGunnigle is an actor, writer and comedian whose credits include Private Eyes, Detention Adventure, Odd Squad and No Sleep ‘Til Christmas. 

Additionally, founding member and fellow Newfoundlander and Labradorian Cathy Jones has left the series, after being with the production since 1993. Susan Kent, also from this province, left to pursue outside endeavours in 2020.

The 29th season of This Hour Has 22 Minutes continues this fall!

A new comedy called Strays follows Shannon Ross, played by Newfoundlander Nicole Power (Kim’s Convenience) as she tackles her new position as the executive director of the Hamilton East Animal Shelter, where she happens to be in charge of quite an eclectic staff. 

As she explained, Power’s character is ready for new challenges as she puts the big city of Toronto in the rear-view.

As most Newfoundlanders do, our conversation quickly turns to home.

“I’m from Middle Cove and when the caplin came in there would always be people parking all the way up to our house. We would walk down with buckets with my dad whenever they were rolling in, and people would be calling our house to ask us if the caplin were rolling. That happened all the time,” she began.

So how did she go from cartin’ buckets of caplin to staring in her own CBC spinoff? 

Well, like most actresses, she put in her time. From attending school away to tending tables for tips between auditions,  she kept her head down and chipped away at her dreams. 

Universe Expansion

“I kept kind of working and auditioning and doing the hustle; serving at restaurants and trying to learn something new every day and then six years ago I got the audition for Kim’s Convenience for a character named Shannon, who was described as this quirky girl from the East Coast. And that fit with me pretty quickly and the character is one that I really, really love to play,” she shared. 

Three seasons later, and news broke that the team “would expand the Kim’s universe,” she continued. “That was almost four years ago now, so Strays has been in the works for a long time.” 

Speaking ahead of the September 14th premiere, Power shared that she was excited for the big reveal. “This felt like a really right direction for Shannon to go in when she was kind of making this big change in her life,” she said. 

“She was kind of asking herself a lot of big questions about … where she was meant to be and where is her place in the world. And that kind of lines up with everything that the animals (at the shelter) are going through. They’re all kind of looking for a home. So the whole show is Shannon and this incredible ensemble of a bunch of misfits that are just trying to kind of find their place in the world.”

As to how things went while working with animals, Power laughed. 

“You know the old trope, you shouldn’t work with animals or babies? But we actually had such a blast and we had so much help and it always kept us on our toes. You just don’t know what the animals are going to do.” 

A Place in the World

Speaking about her human costars, Power is nothing short of enthusiastic. 

“I keep on gushing about (the cast) just because … this ensemble is just a group of powerhouse comedic actors. And as soon as we started on camera, I said to all of them, ‘this is such a joy’ … It was so easy because of their ability and their talent, and the shelter kind of feels like this breathing, beating heart,” she shared.

As for her own character Shannon? It’s not a stretch to play the role. 

“There’s so many levels in which I connect with Shannon. She grew up on the East Coast. She moved away. She doesn’t really feel like she belongs in a big city. She misses home. She’s a fish out of water in most circumstances.”

But there’s more to that connection as well, she added. “I think how I connect the most is that I’m always bragging about Newfoundland and the people there, but also Shannon has this optimism and she has this ability to always see the good in people and in situations.”

Power tells a tale of heading back to the province to visit family and how there was a big lineup at the airport where bags were being dropped off. 

The woman working there apologized for the delay,

Power continued. “Kind of in unison, all of these Newfoundlanders piped up and basically said, ‘don’t worry, my darling’ and that immediately put her at ease. I was already emotional (being home), but I just burst out into tears because I’m just so I’m so proud to be from Newfoundland. I just always feel so lucky to be a part of a place that has such wonderful people.”

Newfoundland was the first stop, and it turns out that on a royal tour’s first stop Her Majesty hosts a press reception. 

It was not just the local boys. It was for the international press. The international press were like animals and they were not all monarchy supporters. Several called the Royal couple; Philip and I. It was kind of an ongoing joke. 

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‘Your majesty’

The reception was held at Government House. Security was airtight like I had never seen before. Full police clearances and everything else. Now I am sure you have read since the death of The Duke of Edinburgh that there is a whole protocol to meeting the Queen. It is all true. You extend your hand and let her take it. You do not grab hers. She speaks first. You call her “your Majesty” in the first exchange. After that, ma’am is in ham. I was announced as my turn came in the receiving line. “From Newfoundland Broadcasting; Mr. Jim Furlong.”

If you have not met her, the Queen is way shorter than you think. She is a tiny person. I walked over to her and bowed slightly, and she extended her hand.  

She said, “It is very nice to meet you.” I replied, “Thank you very much your Majesty, I hope you enjoy your stay.” 

That was it. My moment was over.

The next media person was being introduced and I moved on down to Prince Philip. He spoke to me. He said, “Newfoundland Broadcasting. Is that a local television station?” I explained that we were local and were part of the CTV Network. 

He asked if we had anything to do with CBC and I explained we were like ITN in Britain. He said television sounded like interesting work. 

I told him it was very much so and I moved on. That was it. I do remember that Prince Philip pronounced the word Newfoundland correctly. 

Finding the press pass

I am not much on meeting famous people, but I have to confess there is part of me that was just glowing after being at that reception. You know,  in the middle of it a thought flashed through my mind. I wished my parents could have seen me. They died when I was a boy. What a strange thought. 

Also, in writing this article I rummaged around a filing cabinet in my home. In the bottom drawer was my press pass. I have kept it since 1978 to remind me of meeting Philip and I.

NTV’s Jim Furlong can be reached by emailing: jfurlong@ntv.ca