Editor’s note: Eddie Greenspan passed away Dec. 24 at the age of 70. Below is an excerpt from his brother Brian’s eulogy.
My brother Eddie ascended, and eventually transcended, the very peak of the legal profession. From a fiercely talented, young advocate, he rose to become the model for all of us who wanted to be lawyers in the first place. The tributes to Eddie’s remarkable life have eloquently and publicly resonated throughout our country these past few days – it is clear from the countless messages of admiration and affection that so many of you share our profound sadness and that our heartbreak is your heartbreak – our entire family is deeply grateful for the tremendous outpouring of love and respect.
Eddie’s devotion to our justice system is legendary. His enormous contribution to the administration of criminal justice has been and will continue to be a source of inspiration to current and future generations of those who view the role of the defence as Eddie did: as the defenders of democracy. As the safeguard against tyranny.
But his passion for justice – and his passionate fight against injustice – represented only one aspect of his remarkable life. He was intolerant of intolerance, he couldn’t fathom disloyalty, and despite his apparent comfort and ease with the smell of the greasepaint and the roar of the crowd, he was intensely private, in some ways almost shy. He was passionate about his family, he was passionate about his friendships, he was passionate about literature and film, he was passionate about food and travel, and he was passionate about his continuing search for knowledge. Eddie’s library was the temple in which he thoughtfully and meticulously housed his life of learning and ideas, ideas he shared so generously with law students, colleagues, friends and family.
Eddie was not only our lifelong friend and confidante, he was the barometer by which we judged our successes and our failures. Despite his toughness at times, Eddie embodied our mother’s values – he was unfailingly and genuinely courteous and respectful to everyone he met. His celebrated sense of humour, his impeccable timing, his deadpan delivery, were foreshadowed by his contagious sense of mischief – the twinkle in his eye. He was addicted to the comedians of the ’60s – while our friends listened to Motown, he recited verbatim Shelley Berman, Lenny Bruce, Jackie Mason, Bob Newhart and the Smothers Brothers. Eddie would take a simple line – a simple theme – and make it a comedic symphony. It always began with that twinkle in his eye, that sense of mischief – always self-effacing, relentlessly on target, but never mean.
I fondly recall perhaps the one occasion when neither his sense of mischief nor his sense of humour put a smile on our mother’s face. While home for the weekend in Niagara Falls during his first year in university, he asked our mother if he could borrow the car to go out on a date. Mom, always a soft touch, gave him the car. Only he hadn’t told her that the date was almost two hours away in Toronto.
He phoned me, his 16-year-old brother, at midnight. “Cover for me,” he said. He had been at Fran’s Restaurant with his date, only to discover that mom’s car had been stolen while he was eating a hamburger.
“What should I say?” I asked. “Be creative,” he replied.
But no amount of creativity could have saved the day. By the time he called again, a few hours later, the car had been found downtown, crashed into a wall. Still, Eddie’s creativity, his early advocacy, did save the day – he convinced mom that she had, in fact, known he was going to Toronto and that he was the victim of this horrible and traumatic crime.
Niagara Falls was not only our birthplace, it was a town in which the values of loyalty, friendship and generosity – values in which Eddie so deeply believed – were fostered and embraced. When our father passed away, Niagara’s small, but tightly knit Jewish community provided both emotional and financial support, and arranged subsidies for us to attend Young Judaea camps. Our family had been firmly rooted in Yiddish tradition and culture, and through our involvement in Young Judaea – which Eddie brought to Niagara Falls – we developed a strong and indelible connection with Israel. It was a connection to which Eddie was devoted throughout his life: Israel as a beacon of democracy and hope.
Canada’s pursuit of social justice was both enhanced and advanced on almost a daily basis over the course of the past 45 years by my brother, just as on a daily basis he enriched the lives of family and friends. The courts, his colleagues and his clients will long remember his forceful advocacy, and his dedication to justice and the defence of the defenceless.
Those of us who knew him and loved him will cherish the memory of his warmth, his intellect, his humour, his perceptiveness, and his sage advice. Eddie’s life was not only well lived, it was lived courageously, with an unerring sense of purpose and compassion.
Brian Greenspan is a defence lawyer in Toronto.