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We look at our Northern specials as the people in high places: the politicians, lawyers, elected folks, white collar. But the ones that stand out and made Yellowknife and the North what it is are those that live outside the box, yet stay close to the ground and to the people.
Yellowknife just lost one of those in Larry Galt. Right across this country, people are grieving. Within hours of Larry's passing on May 17, friends from British Columbia to Newfoundland and Labrador got the news that a best friend and brother had rode his bike into the great beyond. Many are mourning the loss of this one-of-a-kind Northerner.
The number of lives Galt touched and even saved is immeasurable, yet those who knew him know that all the attention he has garnered since his passing would make him mad. If you listen closely, you can hear him swearing about it from here.
He wanted sobriety; not accolades.
No one knows better than others in recovery that success comes from not only maintaining sobriety but staying humble. Galt wrote the book on humility and that's why he was best known during his clean years as a gentle giant and how he managed to remain in the shadows even though on his bike he was always larger than life.
Galt called Yellowknife home for more than 50 years - the only time he left was when he was chased out by the RCMP.
“He loved living on kilometre 16,” said long-time friend Jim Warren.
His shack had no frills and keeping the house warm in the winter and lit was always a challenge.
But it offered everything this bush rat treasured: solitude and a close relationship with his creator.
Galt quickly earned a reputation as a wild guy after coming here in the early 1970s, sometimes working at fly-in mining camps for entire winters or helping on traplines. One thing he did consistently in those early years was close the bars and cause chaos where ever he went.
He became a hardcore drunk and was eventually run out of town by the police who said he had two choices: leave or go to jail.
Galt left but, according to long-time friend David Radcliffe, who now lives in B.C., he returned a short time later knowing that those police had been transferred. He was right.
After inheriting a hefty chunk of money in the 1990s, Galt made the decision to get clean.
According to Radcliffe, Galt knew that a drunk and druggie with a bundle of money was a one-way ticket to death. He made the choice to invest the inheritance and continue to live the modest off grid life and, most of all, to follow Radcliffe into recovery.
It's no exaggeration to say that was a Herculean task for this dedicated drunk, but his recovery and helping others on that path would become the new centre of his life.
Radcliffe said Galt saved lives by the example he set and become as dedicated to this cause as he was to alcohol and drugs.
In recovery circles, it is strongly suggested that participants find a God of their understanding. The North, with its breathtaking environment and animals, is where Galt had found his God a long time ago and why he spent so much time there, said Radcliffe.
Radcliffe also said that the reason Galt travelled so much after he sobered up was because he had set out to make amends to anyone he may have hurt during his drinking days.
Galt successfully apologized whenever that was required and taught others to do the same. People grew psychologically and spiritually under Larry’s care and everyone became humble enough to help others and develop relationships with their maker.
Galt sponsored many people over the years who wanted what he had: good friends, laughter and camaraderie. As Radcliffe noted, how Galt lived his life encouraged others to get clean.
Galt never gave up on the people he helped and remained loyal to those he met in the program for years, even decades later. While Yellowknife and especially the bush was his home, he spent his springs and summers fishing mostly in B.C. but all over Canada with his buddies, many of them fellow recoverees. They kept each other on the right path.
Galt's ashes will be spread this summer on Great Slave Lake alongside his fellow bushrat friends who he remained dedicated to, up to and including the time of their passing.
An excerpt from Don’t Look for Me Here sums up Galt's life best:
“That bird in the sky that flies by you singing.
That soft summer breeze that trembles the trees.
Those cold winter nights when stars start to sparkle,
They're all part of me and I’m part of these.
That laughter you share, I'm part of that laughter.
Those tears that you shed, I'm part of them, too.
Don't look for me here, not here in this graveyard.
How can I be dead when I'm part of you?”
The North lost a trooper, but heaven gained a shining star.
