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Upon joining the Headwaters Writing Guild, I very quickly sensed the most striking element of the group's synergy. It had to do with the shared remembrance of a man named Ed Wildman. He's spoken of frequently and always with respect; always with admiration. You sense a kind of aura come over the group when his name is spoken. If conversation had been fractured into different groups they'll suddenly unite again at the mention of his name.

And when they speak of Ed's ideas and values, I always have to smile at their familiarity. Because they're the same ideas and values that are faithfully extolled by the veterans of our writing group today.

It seems I'd narrowly missed meeting one of those extremely rare and special people who's capacity to give and to nurture seem without limit. A man who to some degree, is a mentor to me, without us ever having met. I set out to try to get to know him better:

How did you guys come to know Ed Wildman?

Nancy:
Ed had writing workshops. He started one for the Dufferin Arts Council. It was to run for two weeks but they extended it another two weeks. Janet and I attended the first one in October 2001. That's where we met. After that, Ed had his workshops out of his home in Honeywood. J.C. joined in March 2003. C.R. met Ed when she joined us in March 2004.

What were the workshops like?

J.C.:
He'd read from a book and tell us how the author got started. It was very meaningful. It wasn't like going to school. There were no rules for writing. You'd just write and whatever came out was a story.

Nancy:
He taught us not to just tell a story but to throw the story onto the page.

I've heard it said that Ed 'empowered' his students. Can you elaborate on that?

J.C.:
He didn't make us have an outline. He let us just go with the flow. And it was okay to be different. Everyone writes differently. He said that the only way you can fail at writing is to quit writing. And he never told anyone what to do. He gave you the confidence to resolve your problems for yourself.

Nancy:
Even after all this time, it's still hard for me to write about Ed and how much he inspired us to write. He could always find something good in your writing. He always made me feel that he understood me and thought I was talented and that doesn't happen too often. He made you feel as if he were in your corner coaching you - as if you were a boxer. Janet and I talked about having a writing group in Orangeville but we didn't form one because Ed is such an inspirational person we always wanted to attend his writing sessions.

How was he inspirational to you?

C.R.:
He was simply a nice human being. Everything he said made sense. You could trust he wouldn't tell you something unless he believed it.

J.C.
Like when he said he'd stayed up late and wrote a hundred and eleven pages in one night. I was flabbergasted. But it reinforced the lessons he taught us.

Nancy:
Ed joined our Orangeville group in December 2003. We did our best writing with him there. We all wanted to wow him. He just inspired or encouraged you to do your best. He's a natural at this. He's charismatic but the biggest gift he gave to anybody is that he made you feel special. I have never met anybody like Ed and I don't think that I ever will.

How did he make you feel special?

C.R.:
He focussed on my strengths. He didn't just make general compliments. He paid attention. He liked my plays.

Nancy:
When he talked to you, it felt like you were the only person in the room. I know that it sounds as if I am talking about a fairy tale person but Ed sometimes became discouraged with his writing. He told me that I always inspired him to keep writing; that I had the words he needed to hear during a bad spell.

J.C.:
My first day there he told me it was the first time someone had made him cry with one story and then laugh with another. He always had something nice to say about everyone.

Janet:
I don't know why, but for some reason Ed represented both of my parents simultaneously: the "good father" that my dad could sometimes be, intelligent, articulate and kind, and also my nurturing mother who praised minor accomplishments and always saw the good, never the bad. My husband summed it up succinctly by saying that we respected Ed.

What are your fondest memories of Ed?

Nancy:
One day after I had written about my family the other members of the group were appalled. Ed asked me, 'Are you a fighter, Nancy?' I thought for a moment, and I said, 'Yes, I am. I had to learn to fight. When you live in a violent home, it's natural.'

Ed nodded in agreement. He said, 'All the fighters that I know come from the same background as you did. They told me the same thing. They said, there wasn't much of a choice.' I nodded back. Nobody in my whole life ever understood me the way that I felt Ed did.

Janet:
Some things I’ll never forget. Like the way Ed offered us coffee and cookies when we went to his place to write. We’d run out of coffee and Ed would offer to make more until we were all wired tight as a spring and popping up every few minutes to go to the bathroom.

Nancy:
At the funeral, they talked about when Ronnie Hawkins and Ed were walking in downtown Barrie - Ed's hometown. Everybody stopped and talked to Ed. Finally Ronnie said, 'Wait a minute here Ed, who's the celebrity, you or me?' Everybody laughed because we all knew that Ed is a special person.

It sounds like he really left his mark on the world.

C.R.:
All the ladies loved him. He was charming. He was even the Toronto Sun Sunshine Boy one time!

Nancy:
He volunteered at Hope Acres, The Salvation Army's Long Term Rehabilitation Centre in Glencairn, with his writing workshops for years and I know everybody there loved him.

I read his book of poetry called 'Gentlemen of the Street'. It changed my whole understanding of what poetry could be. I realized I too had stories that could be told this way. It broke a barrier for me and that's when I started writing poems. What else has Ed written?

Nancy:
He wrote about Jimmy Parker, a Canadian boxer. He loved boxers. His partner Frances hopes to get it published.

C.R.:
He wrote a play called Saying Goodbye to Eddie - about his own funeral. But his real funeral was nothing like it. I said 'Don't be fooling around with death, Eddie! Don't tempt it!' He laughed. He died a year later.

If you could say one last thing to Ed, what would it be?

Janet:
I'm looking at my watch, and thinking of both Ed and my parents. The watch was inherited from my mother, and has a delicate paua shell bracelet and face. I got it in 1999 when my mother passed away but I only started wearing it this month, for the bracelet was too big for me. I admired it sitting there in my jewelry case, and when the watch I was wearing broke, I took this one to the jeweler’s and had a couple of links taken out.
Now I'm looking at the watch, and thinking of Ed and remembering mom and remembering dad. Ed, you shine as softly as the paua shell watch. Yes, Ed we're like family and you are one remarkable man.

Email from Ed Wildman,
February 2004

I am grateful to you for carrying on with the writers and will be with you in spirit if not in body on Saturday. I miss getting together with everyone and hope that will all change when the weather gets better and spring approaches. I heard from Janet who is back writing and says your support and help are responsible. I tell you, you are a special person.

Love and blessings to you and J.C..

Ed Wildman
Lawyer, Poet, Author, Storyteller
1932 - 2004