Though I’ve not worked with George for twenty years, I think of his advice often. “Share your tape” was one of George’s oft-repeated mantras. Specifically it meant if a competitor is late to a news conference—an event where multiple reporters were all gathering the same quotes—you should share your tape, because one day it will be you who is late. But I have always taken it to mean when there is no reason not to share information with colleagues or competitors—no reason for exclusivity or secrecy—one should always share information as we as journalists all share the same goal: to represent the public, and to educate the public. George understood this, and never let his competitiveness harm relationships with journalists, or anyone else.
George may have been the intrepid reporter to Rafe Mair and many members of the CKNW audience, but I’ve worked with many intrepid reporters over the years. I haven’t, however, worked with anyone else like George. Someone feared by ne’er do wells, and liked and respected in equal measure by colleagues, competitors, newsmakers and his audience.
— Steve Lus
Executive Producer, News, CBC British Columbia
I was invited to board one of two Vancouver Police boats to learn more about their function. Now the story can be told. Our boat ran out of gas just as we sailed under the Lions Gate Bridge, headed to False Creek. That little incident did not make the news. (I might have been thrown overboard!) Alex Waterhouse-Hayward photo
Introduction
I’ve always been insatiably curious. As a kid growing up in Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan, which was known as the Friendly City, I kept tabs on everything. I knew the voices of all the announcers on local radio station CHAB. I listened to the news and knew that local boys had gone off to war. For some reason unknown to me then, I kept track of all the taxis in town, as well as the delivery trucks.
I rode my bike everywhere, including to high school, except in the winter. We lived on the edge of town in the last house before the open prairie with a faraway view of a government grain elevator a mile to the west and the revolving beacon of light from a wartime airport to the north, which shone in my bedroom window at night. I loved my time in high school at Moose Jaw Tech, but I was very young compared to the other kids. I had started Grade 1 at age five because of my November birthday and then I did well, skipping Grade 7 because of school overcrowding and my good marks. I finished school at age sixteen, but my marks faltered toward the end because of my sudden interest in girls. I failed some of my final exams and cannot really claim to have passed Grade 11, the final year of a three-year commercial course. Thus I did not graduate, although I did not consider myself to be a high school dropout.
My unquenchable curiosity and my passion for radio led me down a path of excitement that has never ended. It was a dream job to become a reporter through more than four decades of such a remarkable period in the history of British Columbia—from the mid-1950s through the 1990s. I have a box full of tapes from covering many stories, but I’ve never bothered to listen to them. This memoir is entirely from memory. I did not keep notes, but I’ve easily been able to recall incidents and the people involved.
I had been retired for more than a decade when it crossed my mind that my four grandchildren, then in their teens, might one day like to read about what their “Papa” had done in his life. As I began writing, I realized that indeed I had led an extraordinarily interesting life in what many considered to be the “golden years” of radio during an exciting time in BC’s colourful history. For forty-three years, from 1956 to 1999, I worked in Vancouver as CKNW radio’s senior news reporter. Over the years, I built up a list of contacts that was the envy of many of my colleagues.
In George Garrett: Intrepid Reporter, I write about some of the big stories that happened during my career at CKNW: Premier Bill Vander Zalm investigated by the RCMP, Premier Bill Bennett’s involvement in an insider trading scheme and an on-the-scene recording of a prominent judge telling police to “go to hell.” I reveal how I got the story on the questionable practices of a lawyer by posing as an accident victim, how I became a tow-truck driver to expose a forgery scheme, and how I posed as a security official to gain access to where securities are kept at the Vancouver Post Office. I once impersonated the friend of a hostage in a prison riot by offering her a gift of flowers when she was taken to the hospital. Another time, I took my dear wife, Joan, with me to get a story at a nudist colony. I had no choice but to strip. Joan refused.
Life as a reporter was exciting for me, but it was often stressful for Joan. I covered all types of crime, kidnappings, murders, plane crashes, earthquakes and riots—notably the Rodney King riots in Los Angeles in 1992 when I was assaulted.
These pages take you behind the scenes in the life of a news reporter, from a police party in a morgue, to the violent streets of Vancouver’s notorious Downtown Eastside, to infiltrating a high-level meeting at Government House in Victoria. It’s all here, including some personal tragedies: a broken jaw, bruised face and missing a tooth, a serious accident on the Tsawwassen ferry dock, the loss of my son, Ken, in a canoeing accident, and my beloved wife Joan’s devastating diagnosis of Alzheimer’s disease.
Through it all, almost without exception, I was fortunate enough to be liked and respected among my peers. I reciprocated those feelings with gusto. I developed positive relationships with dozens of my colleagues, and many of those went on to become lifelong friends. Some of them provided memorable comments along the way.
The late Rafe Mair, one of Vancouver’s venerable radio hosts, wrote, “George Garrett is the standard by which good reporting is judged.” Of the news I broke daily on the Clifford Olson murders of children, Mair said, “Garrett seemed to know details almost as soon as the police did.” It was Rafe who gave me the title of “the Intrepid Reporter.” The dictionary defines intrepid as one who is fearless, dauntless and courageous—very brave. I don’t claim to have any of those qualities. Relentless, persistent and determined might be a more accurate description. In fact, I was recently given an Award of Excellence by the Volunteer Cancer Drivers Society. The inscription read, “Presented to Founding Member and Intrepid Fund Raiser George Garrett.”
I take my fundraising responsibilities seriously. I was not getting email responses from one of our donors when one day I happened to see their vehicle while driving in the pouring rain in Langley. I followed the car until two men emerged. I was immediately at their car door, saying, “Remember me? I’m the guy seeking your support for the Volunteer Cancer Drivers.” Rather than being taken aback, their response was positive. “Yes, George. We are definitely supporting you again this year.” My perseverance paid off once again.
In this memoir, it’s my hope to take readers on the often incredible journey that has been my life, from my days as a farm boy in Saskatchewan to the top echelons of journalism in British Columbia. I’m inviting readers to follow the path of my reporting career and come behind the scenes as I reveal the parts of my stories and escapades that my listeners never heard when I was on the air.
I hope you have as much fun reading about my life as I have had living it. Enjoy the journey!
Chapter 1
Curiosity
How does one go from being a poor kid on a Saskatchewan farm to a career in radio news in a metropolis like Vancouver—a career that spanned nearly half a century?
In a word—the answer is curiosity!
Since my early childhood, I have always wanted to know everything about virtually everything, often to the annoyance of others. I recall visiting my aunt, Lucille, when I was nine years old in the summer of 1944.