Tuesday, Feb. 24, 2004
© 2004 Bell Globemedia Publishing Inc. All Rights Reserved
By Gillian Calder, Susan Calder and Leslie Calder

David Gibb Calder

Engineer, Burns enthusiast, family man, friend. Born Aug. 19, 1935, in Glasgow, Scotland. Died Nov. 2, 2003, in Vancouver, of ALS, aged 68.

David grew up in the tenement buildings of Glasgow's east side, with his parents, Janette Williamina and David, and his sister Margaret. He was educated at Alan Glen's school for boys, where he was an avid student and a dedicated athlete, pursuing golf, cricket, field hockey and soccer.

He excelled in school, first at Glasgow University where he graduated with a B.Sc. (1st class honours) in civil engineering in 1957, and later at Imperial College in London, where he completed his master's. At the same time, he was very active in the church badminton leagues. He was looking for a mixed-doubles partner, and asked a young Janette Ritchie if she would consider the task. She did, and they became partners for life.

David was courted by international engineering firms and in 1967 he and Janette made the brave decision to move their young family to Vancouver. There David's professional life as a structural steel specialist flourished. Among colleagues he will likely be most remembered for his work on the Second Narrows Railway Bridge, and in particular, his pioneering work on its reconstruction when it was damaged by a freighter in 1979. Among friends it will be his work this past summer designing and supervising the construction of a dollhouse for his granddaughter Stephanie.

While David became a Canadian citizen in 1980 and embraced life in Canada fervently, he maintained a love for and commitment to all things Scottish. A particularly loved tradition in our family is Burns Night, with his "Address to a Haggis."

For many of us, though, what we will remember most about David is how he accepted the many challenges that come with Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (Lou Gehrig's disease). He was diagnosed on Aug. 13, 1999, and from that day forward he met the illness head on, shooting in the 70s in his last round of golf, and using his electric wheelchair to travel to and from the neighbourhood village for coffee or library books, even as the illness progressed.

He knew that life with ALS was going to be difficult, but he faced each change that came upon him with quiet dignity, astounding us all by rarely complaining. One of the few things that he commented upon was his disappointment that he was not likely to get the chance to travel again to France. So, last year while David slept on Christmas Eve, our family turned the downstairs of the house into Paris. We arranged for a local travel store to lend us their eight-foot-tall model of the Eiffel Tower, and we decorated his living area with postcards, photographs and signposts all indicating places in France he had visited and loved. Then we all donned berets and moustaches, and waited for him to awaken (see link to story below.)

It was a fabulous morning. But true to form, he again showed us the strength of his character by writing a letter to the editor at the Vancouver Sun telling everyone about his Christmas morning, and offering it as an inspiration to other caregivers and to others living with ALS: that there is still a lot of living to be done.

David's journey with ALS touched a lot of people, most of us lucky to have grown up in a time and a place in which we do not often have to see people behaving courageously. And it seems that dignity is one of those words that gets used all the time. But we can honestly say that until we saw how our father faced the challenges of this illness, we had no idea what those words, dignity and courage, really meant. He will remain an inspiration to all of us.

(Gillian, Susan and Leslie are David's daughters)

Ride for Life Editor's note: Please click here to read this wonderful story David wrote in 2002 about a very special Christmas surprise from his loving family