Marcel (Joe) Godfrey
Working man, principled realist, maker of things. Born on March 26, 1930, in Toronto; died on Aug. 24, 2014, in Toronto, of converging illnesses, aged 84.
From childhood on, he had two names. His mother's choice: Marcel Honoré. But when that got kicked around the schoolyard, he said, "Just call me Joe."
Marcel/Joe was the youngest in an east-end Toronto family of four boys and four girls. With his father working as a barber on the SS Keewatin, his mother and sisters managing the household, and his brothers off to war, Marcel roamed freely. He rode the streetcar across town at age 6, unsupervised, to swim at Sunnyside Park. He explored the Don Valley, spying on a work camp for German POWs; one prisoner managed to show him a photo of his own young son.
A gregarious soccer and hockey player, Marcel had a sensitive side, too. His drawing talent landed him in a Saturday class with painter Arthur Lismer of the Group of Seven. At the program's 50-year reunion at the Art Gallery of Ontario, he recalled that those lessons occasionally got him in trouble: He was once plucked off the roof of a church by a police officer who didn't believe he was up there to draw an aerial view.
When Marcel entered Danforth Tech, he aimed to learn architectural drafting. But after his father died suddenly, he quit high school at 16 to help support his mother. He took on many jobs: setting up bowling pins by hand, night clerking at a sketchy hotel, and delivering bread, first by horse, then by truck. But it was factory shift work that would eventually allow him to provide for his own family, wife Helen, a Scottish immigrant he married in 1952, and their three children.
By the 1970s, Marcel was known mostly as Joe. During his time as president of Canadian Auto Workers Local 303, he fought for – and alongside – his co-workers against corporate self-interest. He encountered a wide range of people during his decades at General Motors' Oshawa and Scarborough plants, and was a stalwart friend to many. He closed out his working life as a safety instructor, teaching proper use of machines. It suited his precise nature. Colleagues still recall an exasperating final exam – only half in jest – that involved picking up a coin with a forklift.
Upon retirement, Marcel/Joe picked up where he'd left off: as a student. He reviewed every inch of the newspaper, including obituaries. He played harmonica, painted, carved, and did woodworking. He studied tai chi and demonstrated moves to his grandsons He travelled with Helen all around Canada, and to Scotland and, most memorably, to Italy – with its sociable pleasures, his spiritual home. (He introduced himself occasionally as Giuseppe DioLibero – Joe Godfrey in Italian.)
Joe also walked and walked, until he could not. Then he marvelled as his first great-grandchild, Beatrice, took to her feet.
Those who encountered him – coffee-shop cashier, captain of industry – saw him as a colourful personality. At home, he was our feisty, funny, ever-opinionated linchpin. Even through a harsh final illness, we watched him learn new things, make new friends, and try his best to do the work that needed to be done. Marcel or Joe: A man we loved by any name, who will live on with us all our days.
Lisa Godfrey is Marcel's youngest daughter.