Submitted by Rosemary Taylor

Terry Slack was a rare character. He grew up with next to nothing, when his family emigrated to Canada when he was a kid. They lived by the Fraser in more ways than one, recovering wood from its banks and harvesting fish from its waters, which thus provided for many of the family’s needs, collecting driftwood to provide shelter, firewood and more. He played with the Musqueam kids who also lived in that area, and everyone got on well together.

He often spoke of the Japanese fishermen and their families who were his neighbours, who all worked and fished together. During the war, when they were sent to internment camps in the interior, and their land, boats and other possessions were confiscated, Terry offered to save what he could till the rightful owners returned. Not all of them did, but he managed to return some of their belongings when the war was over. Terry treasured the richness of the life he led, provided entirely by the environment around him.

He absorbed a great knowledge of the flora, fauna and history of the local area that he willingly shared with everyone, and one thing I distinctly recall was his generosity in giving credit where credit was due. He used to make small gifts out of recycled wood – usually a fish-shaped piggy bank if I remember rightly – and occasionally in a group gathering would acknowledge someone who had quietly done a great deal in the community, thanking them with the gift on behalf of everyone. A totally unpretentious event, intrinsically very meaningful to those who knew the recipient, all very low key, usually a surprise, but manifesting deep-down heartfelt kind thoughts on behalf of everyone made visible through Terry’s actions.

He was a master of recycling long before that word became mainstream. Among other things, he collected decommissioned dock wood, removed what was damaged, and then made what he called ‘dock chairs’ (deck chairs) from the good wood and gave them away.

Such a modest person is a rare find, but he was well recognized as a treasure among those who knew him.

During the annual Salmonberry Days in Dunbar, he and Angus Macintyre, who drove the No.7 bus all his life, organized bus tours. Angus would bring one of the old-style buses from the depot and people loved going for a spin in them as part of the festivities.

I worked with Terry on many small environmental committees which sprang up when a need was seen, such as the Fraser River Coalition, which took the river under its wing at a time when the waters were not as clean or as healthy for salmon as they are now. In those days ‘the solution to pollution was dilution’, from which the Fraser suffered in abundance. Nobody ‘appointed’ the coalition’s members, people joined in order to promote the cause and worked amicably together for years. There was never any hierarchical organization in any of the groups – everyone just mucked in together to get the job done, and stuck with it for many years. The group organizing Salmonberry Days in Dunbar was similar – initiated and long supported by Helen Spiegelberg, it was also very informal and friendly, meeting round the kitchen table, benefitting from the lively company while planning next year’s activities.

Terry had a huge impact among those who knew him and in the community to which he contributed so much. He had a great sense of humour, enjoyed the simple things in life, and shared his enthusiasm with everyone who knew him. There are some people in one’s life it’s a privilege to know. For me, Terry Slack was one of them, the very Salt of the Earth in every way.

Note: Terry and his wife, Sharon, were members of Nature Vancouver from 1987 to 2014, and were active in the Conservation Section. An obituary was published in THE VANCOUVER SUN.