Words from Greg’s colleague, Ric Ernst

I worked with Greg for several years at The Province newspaper. He was a reporter and I was a photographer.

The reporters always caught a ride with the photographers to their stories. Some days you could be with several different reporters.  I always enjoyed being paired up with Greg. Greg wasn’t like the other reporters. He was probably the kindest guy you’d ever meet. And you’d never peg him to be a reporter. For a tabloid newspaper no less. He wouldn’t backseat drive and tell you to slow down and which way to go. And he never called you “My photographer” when talking to the story subject like a lot of reporters would do. No, Greg always showed measured respect. And for that, you could only respect him back.

During those rides to and from stories most reporters would talk about the story we were going to. Some would talk about the office and the latest gossip about co-workers. Too many of them talked about themselves. Not Greg. He wanted to know how you were doing. How things were going with your life and family. I remember once I told him how tough of a time I was having with my teenage daughter. How we weren’t connecting anymore and how difficult it was to get her to talk to me like before. I told him how she’d come home from school and just go into her room. No words. I said I missed our conversations. Greg asked what did I want to talk to her about? I said “Anything. Just how her day was. What happened at school? Just regular stuff.” Greg gave me a tip. He suggested I tell her how my day went, what happened at my work, what stuff I did that day. Maybe she’d do the same. It wasn’t something I had thought of. And it worked. Well, not right away. But after a couple times and a lot of eye rolling on her part, my teenager wasn’t quite so distant. And I got to thank Greg for that.

Greg was truly a good man. This world was a better place with him in it.

Words from Greg’s colleague, Arlen

Here are a few words I put together to describe how I remember Greg:

Greg was a kind, gentle soul, knowledgeable on many topics and was always willing to discuss his opinions on topics in a calm, caring and thoughtful way.

He was always interested in what one had to say and, even after months of not speaking to him, would remember what we had previously talked about because he cared.

He was truly an exceptional human being.

Words from Greg’s colleague, Les Bazso

As stated by my colleagues, Greg was truly a wonderful person.

He was always such a calming influence on me. He would cock his head, look you in the eye and give you that friendly reassuring smile.

Every time I was assigned to a story with Greg, no matter how difficult or how sensitive the nature, “It was a good thing”!

He was a great listener; you always got the impression that he cared about our conversations. Some interview subjects assumed that his smile was their easy pass to run out the clock. Always the professional, Greg would remind them that they still haven’t answered his question.

Greg was passionate about photography and sports. I was invited to give a presentation about Editorial Photography at a photo conference in Abbotsford. The high quality of the speakers had me totally intimidated. How many people would actually show up for my editorial presentation?

Surprise: the room was packed. Needless to say I was a bundle of nerves and felt in over my head. As I nervously started the show I glanced out at the audience, near the back row a head stood out above others. There was that beautiful face, reassuringly smiling back at me.

After the show Greg patiently waited for me outside the room to say that he attended most of the other presentations and wanted to tell me how much he appreciated my images.

I looked forward to covering high school basketball tournaments knowing that sometimes I would get a gentle tap on my shoulder and there would be that wonderful smile.

I consider myself so fortunate to work along side Sara at Langara College; a wonderful reminder that Greg’s caring and friendly smile live on.

Thank you, Greg.