Tim "Coach" Hewlett

I'd like to take you back to January 11, 1944.

I was about 3-4 at the time, and I woke up that morning and went down to the kitchen. My Mom wasn't there. Instead I found Moms friend Marg Thorp preparing breakfast. Seems Mom had gone into labour overnight, and had gone to the hospital for the delivery.

Three or four days later, my Dad came through the door with a bundle wrapped in blankets and said to sister Karen and me, "How do you like this little baby?" That was my first introduction to Tim.

As he grew and became more mobile, we were all impressed by how quickly he moved for a little guy. His legs seemed to be little machines.

Mom often told of going to Loblaw's to shop with Tim in tow. In those days there were no shopping carts - instead, they gave you a basket to collect your groceries Mom put the first item and moved down the aisle with Tim beside her. She put the basket down on the floor and was looking at some items on the upper shelves. When she made her selection, she looked down at her basket, and it was empty, and Tim was nowhere in sight.

Going to the end of the aisle, she turned and found Tim sitting on the floor, the box of cereal between his legs, and trying valiantly to remove the packaging. This prompted Mom to buy a leather harness and a leash so she could keep track of Tim when they shopped.

This was not the last time Tim's fleet-footedness and curiosity caused the family some concern.

Those of you who remember the house on Gladstone may recall that the church next door had a tennis court. This was not a simple paved asphalt court, but rather a genuine clay court topped with fine gravel about the consistency of sugar. Member of the church took great pride in this court - it was watered, rolled, and groomed every week.

To keep the balls in the court, the church had erected a 10-foot high chicken wire mesh fence on 2 x 2 posts between their property and ours. As you all know, chicken wire is not very strong, and 2 x2 posts not very sturdy.

One Saturday afternoon Mom looked out the kitchen window to find Tim climbing the chicken wire fence. He was up at least 8 feet. She dropped what she was doing and ran outside screaming at Tim, "Hold on dolly, don't let go, we'll get you down."

Between yelling at Tim to hold on, she yelled at me to go and get Dad, and have him bring a ladder. Dad was downstairs mixing paint when I called down to him. Apparently, as the story was related to me after, Dad put the paint can down on the floor, grabbed the ladder and rushed upstairs and outside. After 2 or 3 minutes of coaxing, Tim finally let go of the wire fencing and Dad carried him down the ladder and put him on the ground. Tim, thinking he was in trouble, immediately ran into the house.

While Mom and Dad folded the ladder, they talked about how lucky they were that Tim hadn't fallen, or that the chicken wire hadn't broken.

Back inside the house, Tim was nowhere to be found, so we assumed that he was hiding upstairs. As Dad started down the cellar stairs, he stopped part way and looked as Tim sat on the floor sitting in a puddle of green paint, which he had spilled from the can. Dad said it was too funny for him to be angry.

One spring 2 or 3 years later, when the frost was coming out of the ground, Tim got onto the tennis court and somehow found himself sinking into the clay. His first attempt to extricate himself led to him falling over backwards and ending up with his pants and jacket covered in gray goop. After 2 or 3 more attempts, he finally freed himself and went home. Several weeks later, when it was time to start tennis, the first order of business was to dig Tim's boots out of the mud, and repair the damage.

When Tim started school, he went with Karen and I to Brock Avenue Public. One of Tim's teachers told Mom, "Tim is not a slow learner, but he is a day dreamer - he seems to focus more on sports than school topics."

This was indeed true, because most of the time, when school let out for the day, Karen and I would head home, and Tim would head off either to a ball diamond, or a hockey rink. In those days, the city didn't have many arenas with artificial ice - it was all outdoors. Many times Tim would come home late for supper, with frozen hands and feet, and ice formed on his hair and eyebrows.

By the time he was 14 or 15, Tim was playing a good level of hockey in the Metro Toronto Hockey league with Columbus Boys Club and a church team called Holy Family.

Tim could hardly wait for January 11, 1960 to arrive. He knew that on that day he'd turn 16 and be able to get his Driver's License, so late in 1959 he started to harass me to teach him to drive, even though it wasn't legal.

On New Years Eve, between 1959-1960, there was a New Years party at the house on Gladstone. The doorbell rang, as guests arrived, and when I answered the door, I noticed that my car was not in the driveway where I'd left it. Seems Tim had taken my keys from a coat pocket and gone to visit some friends. According to Tim's friend's, they'd pushed the car by hand up the street so we wouldn't hear it start. Luckily, the police didn’t catch him.

Tim got his license the day after his 16th birthday, and of course this opened another chapter. Tim would frequently "borrow" Dad's car and go riding with his friends. One night we got a phone call from Tim. He had a flat tire, could someone bring him a tire on a rim. Dad was a little puzzled since he knew there should be a spare in the trunk. When we got to where Tim was stuck, Dad asked about the spare. Tim's reply - "Oh I had a flat last week and figured you'd get it repaired, but you hadn't." Dad's reply, "You didn't tell me you had a flat last week, and I didn't even know you'd taken the car last week."

During the early 1960's Tim got his first job as a typesetter with Cooper & Beatty where he met Helen (I'm sure you'll hear more about this later). Because this was a union shop, Tim was earning more money than me, and almost as much as Dad who had been working for more than 20 years.

His salary allowed Tim to show his amazing generosity. We shared a bedroom on Gladstone, and the closet was always filled with sharp new clothes. Tim would buy them, and I'd wear them, and Tim never refused to lend them to me.

About this time, Tim and I started playing hockey with a group that started at 11:30 at night and played till 1:00 am. You may have seen the "Sleepless Knights" crest on display here. That Christmas, Tim outfitted me with a complete new set of equipment - pants, shin guard, shoulder pads, elbow pads gloves, and an equipment bag to carry it all. As I was thanking him, he remarked, Well Hewlee, you may not play that well, but when you're on the same team as me, you're going to look the part." He often teased me saying, "We're going to be a defense pairing, so I'm always there to cover your mistakes"

Speaking of defense pairings, one afternoon Tim and I decided to get haircuts together. The place we went to had 6 or 7 chairs, and as it happened, we both sat down at the same time in chairs next to each other. As you know, when you get a haircut, they always remove your glasses. For Tim and me this was problematic since without our glasses we couldn't see past the end of our noses.

The two barbers working on us seemed to intentionally move at the same speed and when the final touches were being done, we both found ourselves with hairspray being applied, a hairnet laid over our heads, and a blow dryer being used to set the spray. As this was happening, I notice in the mirror, someone standing behind us with a smile on his face. Without glasses I couldn’t identify him, but that night as we walked into the dressing room for our game, one of the other guys comments, "Here they come - the terror of the defense corp. complete with hairnets"

We all feel that it was Tim's love of sports that prompted him to start Sutton Sports and later Hewlett Sports, and why he encouraged his girls to be so active in sports.

If I had more time I could tell you about Tim’s success with racing Go Karts. I could tell you about the dozen or so cars he owned in his late teens. No story about Tim and cars would be complete unless I told you about the Chevy Corvette that was his pride and joy, and which he sold when he and Helen started their family. If I mentioned the Corvette, I’d have to tell how after the sale, he was driving past the house of the guy who bought the car, and how Tim looked sideways to see if the car was in the guy’s driveway, and since he wasn't watching where he was going, how he ran into the back of a car that had stopped in front of him.

So many more good memories to share of a fun loving and generous brother, but I'm going to finish my remarks at this point and let Tim's daughter fill you in on "The Helen Period"

Little brother, I'm going to miss you!

Yesterday our Dad joined Heaven's All Star Lineup. He is now playing sports, euchre and hitting lots of homeruns with the rest of the God's angels. He passed peacefully, surrounded by family. We are grateful. Thank-you for all you have been and continue to be in our live’s Dad. You shine bright...so bright. I love you, I love you more. Keep them laughing!

HEWLETT, Tim “Coach”

January 11, 1944 to September 22, 2013

Longtime resident of Aurora, Owner of Hewlett Sporting Goods, Coach of Girls Softball Leagues, Essential Nutrition Consultant, Advocate of “The Charter of Health Freedom”

Peacefully passed away surrounded by family at Southlake Regional Health Centre. Coach will be dearly missed by his loving wife Helen; daughters Jill, Dena and Angie (husband Jamie Robertson); grandchildren Sydney and Jesse (father Sam Burland) and Bryndoven (father Jeremy O’Krafka); siblings Terry Hewlett (wife Margaret Cleveland), Karen Hewlett (partner Rita Benton) and Marlene Butcher; his late parents Maurice and Lillian Hewlett; in-laws Viola and the late Tony Diacovo and all of the extended Bergin and Perugini family, and many friends.

Visitation will be held at the Thompson Funeral Home, 530 Industrial Parkway South, Aurora, 905-727-5421 on Wednesday September 25 from 6-8pm and on Thursday September 26 from 2-4pm and 6-8pm. A funeral service will take place on Friday September 27 at 11am in the chapel with visitation beginning at 10am.

In Coach’s memory donations to the March of Dimes Canada would be appreciated. On line condolences may be made at www.thompsonfh-aurora.com

SPEECHES:

Jill Hewlett (First born daughter)

Thank-you so much for being with us today. We are so grateful for the outpouring of love, care, tributes to dad and support.

As most of you know, my dad had a huge energy and presence about him. He loved people and he loved life. His warmth, optimism, tenacity, sense of humour, fiery spirit, sensitivity, work ethic, loyalty to his family and friends, and dedication to any cause he championed was truly unrivalled.

Every day these gifts encouraged, inspired and uplifted me.

Simultaneously, they were the source of one of my biggest fears: that the day that he would eventually leave us, there would be a void so big in my heart and life, that I would never be able to fill it.

I mean how do you fill a void like that?

The answer is: you can’t.

But in that space there is definitely opportunity to reminisce, reflect, laugh, cry and make new connections. My sisters, our mom and I are grateful to do that with you today.

Many of you here knew our Dad from different times and places in his life, dating back the good old Hewlett Sporting Goods Days – those eleven years are a speech unto itself.

We were so proud living behind and above that store. I remember my sisters and I playing tag after hours, running around the equipment and clothing racks, pretending we were store mannequins in the front window, watching him sharpen hundreds upon hundreds of pairs of skates – because he was the best skate sharpener around, helping him change the letters on the big Yonge Street sign, join him on his “pick-ups”- inventory runs to the city and watch him have so much fun as he served and interacted with his customers and ran a business that he loved so much.

It also was the place I experienced my first part time job, my dad wasn’t only my dad, and my coach, he was my first boss. The day John Candy came in to buy $1000+ worth of Blue Jay paraphernalia was quite a memory.

Of course there many other ways you’d know Coach too, such as baseball diamonds & coaching, the Town Park, Church, Health Shows, Nature’s Emporium...,and of course through being a long time resident of Aurora. A town he loved dearly.

In the process of knowing my Dad, you shared in:

-Conversation ...pertaining to sports and minerals of course

-Laughter because he loved to joke around

-You probably even found yourself arguing with him... because he loved to debate

-AND I bet, he gave you a nickname of some sort...because, that’s what he did.

Yep, our Dad played life just like you would a favourite sport; with enthusiasm, passion and drive.

So 15 years ago when he experienced multiple heart attacks and triple bypass surgery and the doctors sent him home with a list of medical prescriptions, advising him to sit on the couch with his feet up, as they couldn’t promise how many years he’d have left, he ignored and defied the Doctor’s orders.

Instead he sourced out natural methods and came across an incredibly effective, plant based line of supplements that were easy to take. For the next decade and a half he continued to lead a tremendously active life, medication free. No one would have ever guessed he had such a serious heart condition.

On that note we can’t go without mentioning how much our ‘Youngevity’ friends means to us. Dad was beyond grateful with how it changed his health and his life. It kept him actively clicking along for many years, medication free. It became his mission to share the good word with everyone.

Special thanks to Angie’s and Mom’s efforts, the business continues to grow and they keep his passion alive. We know that you will be supporting us Dad, as we continue to share the good word..

2.5 years ago things began to catch up and Dad went to the hospital with a heart murmur. In the process of getting a stint inserted, some plaque was dislodged and it ultimately caused a stroke.

The medical team didn’t think he’d make it. But kudos again to his tenacious spirit and dedication to his supplement regime (which he continued to take even while in the hospital), three months later he beat the odds and walked out of South Lake to continue his life. Albeit, a changed one.

While he could walk, he did not have full function of his right side of his body, so his walking slowed down, he could no longer drive and he had developed expressive aphasia - meaning that he understood what people were saying, but he couldn’t get the words out very easily.

It was extremely frustrating to be slowed down like this – being such an active, outgoing, and communicative man, but amazingly it never put a damper on his bright spirit and not once did he think he wouldn’t get better. Actually, it was not until just a few days before he passed away, that he looked at me, took my hand and said, “I don’t think I’m going to make it.”

I had never, in all my life of knowing my father, heard him give up on anything or anyone – ever. He was the eternal optimist, the poster boy for loving life and the quintessential believer.

When it came to anything I ever did, wanted to do, or anything he thought I should do – my father was my biggest cheerleader.

He was also the person who encouraged me the most to write a book. It’s an accomplishment that I’m very proud of and I am so grateful for his ongoing prompting. As an aside for many years as I wrote my monthly blog prior to producing the book, my Dad was my editor. I’m an audio learner, so I understand things better when I say them out loud so I would call him and read it over the phone. He always made the time and didn’t just give me ‘ear service’ – he took the job seriously and would jot down comments for changes and improvements and 9/10, I followed his great suggestions.

Over the past 2.5 years, the love of his life of 47 years, our mom Helen, became his full time care giver. She was always a supportive and loyal life partner and stuck right by him their entire marriage. But during the last phase of his life on earth, he had an early taste of heaven – mom’s care for dad was the kind that a devoted mother gives their newborn child. She became his earth angel, advocate, voice, right arm and as always, his best friend.

Amazingly, even though things were quite challenging, they still made laughter a daily activity.

Our parents met in their early 20’s working at Cooper & Beatty advertising in Toronto. According to dad, all the guys working there had a crush on her...she was the ultimate catch. (Well look at her...she still is!)

Anyway, my dad didn’t think he had a chance, but in his heart he knew he was ‘the right one’ for her and she was ‘the right one’ for him – so he mustered his courage, stuttering and all, and asked her on a date.

He was so convinced that she’d say no, when she accepted his invitation, he sheepishly walked away saying, no problem, I totally understand, it’s ok...and then it clicked in that she had actually said yes!

On their first date he took her to a football game. Not long after they arrived and were seated, his nerves really caught up with him; after all, he was out with the woman of his dreams. So he needed to excuse himself. He was gone so long that the people seated around my mom became worried too.

Eventually, mom spotted him on the playing field, not getting autographs from the players, but being attended to at the First Aid tent for his weak knees and the butterflies in his belly.

Evidently he continued to overcome his nerves and win her hand in marriage. The greatest of all his victories!

Post-stroke, due to his aphasia, dad needed certain words repeated to him on a regular basis, throughout the day and even in the middle of the night. As a support tool, mom began writing his “words" on large cue card sized paper, in big, bold lettering. Although he couldn’t always read them, they became his safety blanket and he wouldn’t leave home without them.

Over this past summer as Dad’s health began to slow down even more, his word selection became fewer.

His favourite words, the ones we repeated with him hundreds upon hundreds of times, the words he even had the nurses say with him and fellow patients enjoyed and caught onto as well, are the words found on the back of the memorial card:

I love you. I love you more. Keep them laughing.

Dad, thanks for shining so bright, for reminding me to have a sense of humour, to stand up for what I believe in, and to love and live life fully.

I love you and I love you more.

Dena Hewlett-Burland (Second born daughter)

Like Dad, I’m not normally at a loss for words…but where do I begin?

I found it a little overwhelming at first walking down memory lane, trying to put on paper all the fond memories we have of this incredible man. I quickly realized that it would be impossible to include all of them so I’m hoping the highlights I have chosen will give you all more of an idea of who this amazing man was and just why he was loved & admired so much by his 3 little girls.

Dad may not have gone to College or University, heck the man never fully completed high school, but he was the smartest guy we knew! He knew so much about so many things and of course had his opinion on all of it!

He was constantly teaching, or more like ‘coaching’ the 3 of us throughout our lives. Dad may not have been a cook and the sight of a hammer made him nauseas, but Dad taught us valuable life lessons through practical application, common sense & a whole lot of humor.

He showed us the meaning of hard work, taught us to respect others, proved how good manners go a long way and told us to follow thru - not only with our baseball swing - but in everything we do

Aside from Mom, coaching ball was Dad’s next true love. The ball diamond was definitely his favorite classroom. He coached the 3 of us for close to 30 years combined!

His dedication & passion for coaching us, & many others, was evident. His patience (for the most part ;), his ‘go hard or go home’ attitude & love for the game was inspiring to my sisters and I. We not only learned how to play ball, we learned more about ourselves and became better for it.

I’ll never forget the summer I decided I no longer wanted to play ball. I guess you could say I was bit of a risk taker talking like that in our household! One day after school I came home expecting to hang out with a friend that evening when Dad told me I had ball practice, the first one of the season. Confused as I just told my parents only a week or so earlier that I didn’t want to play anymore, Dad replied. ”Dean, the team needs you & you’ll truly regret not playing”. He was right. If it wasn’t for Dad’s encouragement & persistence, I wouldn’t have experienced the best season I had ever had and would have missed out on the next 3 seasons. Dad never stopped pushing and encouraging us girls!

Dad was one who could not sit still. He was an extremely hard worker….so much so we only went on ONE family vacation. To Dad, holidays were going to the roller skating rink, track & field meets and the ball diamond.

The success & popularity of Hewlett Sports, a store I’m so proud to call my Dad’s, is a prime example of the dedicated worker he was.

After receiving many messages upon Dad’s passing, a common quality that was mentioned about him was his sense of humor and the way he loved to make people laugh! It couldn’t be truer. Growing up, the 3 of us did not always appreciate the timing of his jokes, but that was Dad….always lightening the mood with a bit of humor 

He had a friendly smile and joyful wave to anyone who’d pass by him. He would make friends wherever he’d go and always seem to make a lasting impression. Today, and the over the past few days, is evident of that.

Dad liked to talk & growing up it was a joke in our house that he did so because he loved the sound of his own voice! We appreciated Dad’s excellent communication skills and that he always had time to talk to his girls. The telephone was an important device to Dad & I’m personally grateful for it. Being the daughter who moved out of Aurora at a younger age and lived at a distance from our parents, the phone was widely used. It didn’t matter who Dad was talking to, he ALWAYS answered my call….and when he answered I would ask ‘Hi Dad, how are you doing?’, Dad’s response was the same EVERY TIME…”Hey Dean, better now that I’m talking to you!” It really made me feel so loved & special.

Dad also had a love for music. His LP collection was top notch and for many years we had a juke box in the basement which was filled with his favorite 45’s. And he could dance! Dad had some of the best moves going.

Both of our parents have had health conscious minds for years. As kids, a trip to the local health food for a treat was normal to us, regular chiropractic visits before the age of 10 was a common outing and did you know that one

of the Aurora laws was ‘no candy on week days’? Well, we were led to believe it was. Our Halloween candy boxes would last until the following year as it was only allowed to be consumed in our house on weekends. As adults, we are very thankful for the strong influence put on us for healthier choices.

One of my last cherished memories of my Dad was when I took him to a Blue Jay game in August of last year. It was a priceless event! The picture you have seen on the memorial card is one I took that night at the game. His smile says it all….it was by far the best outing my Dad & I went on together. Even with the lack of use of one arm, his aphasia, and slower legs, Dad was cheering, talking to the crowd, doing the wave & participating in the 7th inning stretch! I saw my “Dad” that night.

We laughed, we cried, we shared so many wonderful times with our Dad the ‘Coach’. We could always count on him to be in our corner cheering us on when no one else would and he believed in everything we did, even when we ourselves had our doubts. He stood by us, encouraged us and made us believe that anything was possible.

Dad, your 3 little girls could not be more proud to have you as a best friend and as a father. I’ll really miss you.

Angie Hewlett (Third born daughter)

“Give me a C-O-A-C-H what’s that spell? “Coach!”

What's that spell? “Coach!”

“Hit me don’t shit me guys!”

Let’s get one thing straight here, my husband and many others have been known to call me the Assistant Coach.

WHY? Because I’m so much like my dad.

That is such an Honor!

My dad really wanted a boy – well, you’re looking at her!

In my younger days I was often mistaken as a boy, because of my short hair and natural athletic ability.

So Dad thank you for raising me the just the way you DID! It was Flopp’n Good!

Many of you would remember Hewlett Sporting Goods. Boy he was so proud of that store and, we have so many childhood memories there.

And him driving all over town in his Hewlett Sports truck that was decked out in sports logos like Adidas, CCM, Nike, Bauer, Puma...and then in his later years, his “Life Gets Better” van.

You could always count on Coach to honk, wave, and even go out of his way to yell out the window and of course stop for a chat or two.

COACH! COACH! COACH! Boy you were a Coach for so many!

At Wells Street Public School and Aurora Senior Public, dad was the WARM UP, CONFIDENCE BUILDING and TEAMWORK Coach.

He always gathered the athletes together for a complete warm up at all sporting events especially at track and field.

Like father like daughter we really didn’t enjoy school too much...BUT THANK GOODNESS FOR SPORTS.

My dad started to really understand when I was in grade ten just how much I didn’t like going to school when I wasn’t getting to the bus stop on time.

So chasing the school bus we’d go... dad wearing his PJ’s and driving the only way COACH did, really fast.

He continued doing this for years - all school year round.

During the summer months, our time was spent playing softball. T-ball, House League, Diggers and then founding his own team, his pride and joy, THE OAK RIDGES DIAMONDS GIRLS REP SOFTBALL TEAM!

This took lots of time and dedication and he did it for the love of the sport and coaching.

Coach wanted us at the ball park one hour before each game. He would be setting up the dug out with the bats, helmets and line up organized just perfectly and then getting the team in the warm-up circle!

I can hear his voice now saying:

“Do it with Feeling girls”

“Two Hands...Two Hands...GIRLS”

“Keep your eye on the Ball”

“This is serious FUN!”

“Girls remember his third base signals!”

Boy did we look sharp with our uniforms on in our circle and Ghetto Blaster blaring Coach’s favorite tunes such as:

“OK BLUE JAYS”, “Get Back Joe Joe”, “Shame Shame Shame” and of course, “Center Field”!

Now they are my favorites and I know that when the girls who played on the “OAKS” team hear those songs it brings back great memories and touches their hearts too.

It's a special and rare bond with our Coach!

He left an everlasting impression on so many lives in the sporting arena. Many ball friends have shared with me that their fondest memories are with our Coach, the team building, confidence, skill development, leadership and all the memories of traveling to different towns for season games and tournaments. Go Diamonds!

Dad was my Coach for so many sports starting at a very young age when our parents put us into competitive roller skating.

I loved to run, Auntie Marlene loved to run and dad loved to run!

Just the other day at the hospital my dad’s sister Marlene said, “When we all are up in Heaven together we are going to have a kick butt relay team!” I said who will be the fourth leg she said their mother! So it “runs” in the family.

Thank you Dad for being my personal Coach and manager for so many track and field years!

You always made sure:

- I got a goods night rest and thank you Mom for the pasta the night before and the oatmeal the morning of!

- Dad you always supplied me with the best running shoes, track tops and equipment

- For keeping me focused and calm at the starting line and carrying my track bag around

- For yelling out “Skate Skate Skate” on the side lines

- FOR ALWAYS BEING SO PROUD OF ME!

My most current memories are working the Youngevity business with my dad and mom. Thank you for leading the way for us. You have taught me so much about the importance of minerals and about sharing it with others.

I am so pumped to continue to spread the word!! We both share the same passion and dedication to helping others.

Again I am so grateful to have had you as my DAD, BEST FRIEND, COACH and BUSINESS PARTNER!

THANK YOU DAD you are always in my HEART and you live on through me.

Here’s to you DAD, 3 Cheers for Coach:

Hip Hip Hooray!

Hip Hip Hooray!

Hip Hip Hooray!

I LOVE YOU!

Sydney Burland (First born Grandchild)

I was so happy to have you as my Grandpa, who we call ‘Papa Coach’.

I remember before he had his stroke, Papa Coach was always up and playing outside with me, Jesse and cousin Bryndoven. We had lots of fun. He was always joking around with me, Jesse, Bryn, Aunt Jill, my Mom, Aunt Ange and Grandma Helen.

Even after his stroke, he was always smiling 

I will miss you Papa Coach….. I love you!

Bryndoven O’Krakfa (2nd Born Grandchild)

Dear Papa Coach,

I hope you are doing well in heaven.

Even though you are not here, you will always be my best buddy.

You really make me shine bright, even when it’s a rainy day.

You are my grandpa…so Hip Hip Hooray!!

Love, Brynner

Terry Hewlett (Older Brother of Tim)

Tim: The "Pre-Helen Period"

I'd like to take you back to January 11, 1944.

I was about 3-4yrs old at the time, and I woke up that morning and went down to the kitchen. My Mom wasn't there. Instead I found Mom’s friend Marg Thorp preparing breakfast. Seems Mom had gone into labour overnight, and went to the hospital for the delivery.

Three or four days later, my Dad came through the door with a bundle wrapped in blankets and said to sister Karen and me, "How do you like this little baby?" That was my first introduction to Tim.

As he grew and became more mobile, we were all impressed by how quickly he moved for a little guy. His legs seemed to be little machines.

Mom often told of going to Loblaw's to shop with Tim in tow. In those days there were no shopping carts - instead, they gave you a basket to collect your groceries. Mom put the first item in and moved down the aisle with Tim beside her. She put the basket down on the floor and was looking at some items on the upper shelves. When she made her selection, she looked down at her basket, and it was empty, and Tim was nowhere in sight!

Going to the end of the aisle, she turned and found Tim sitting on the floor, the box of cereal between his legs, and trying valiantly to remove the packaging. This prompted Mom to buy a leather harness and a leash so she could keep track of Tim when they shopped.

This was not the last time Tim's fleet-footedness and curiosity caused the family some concern.

Those of you who remember the house on Gladstone may recall that the church next door had a tennis court. This was not a simple paved asphalt court, but rather a genuine clay court topped with fine gravel about the consistency of sugar. Member of the church took great pride in this court - it was watered, rolled, and groomed every week.

To keep the balls in the court, the church had erected a 10-foot high chicken wire mesh fence on 2 x 2 posts between their property and ours. As you all know, chicken wire is not very strong, and 2 x2 posts not very sturdy.

One Saturday afternoon Mom looked out the kitchen window to find Tim climbing the chicken wire fence. He was up at least 8 feet. She dropped what she was doing and ran outside screaming at Tim, "Hold on dolly, don't let go, we'll get you down."

Between yelling at Tim to hold on, she yelled at me to go and get Dad, and have him bring a ladder. Dad was downstairs mixing paint when I called down to him. Apparently, as the story was related to me after, Dad put the paint can down on the floor, grabbed the ladder and rushed upstairs and outside. After 2 or 3 minutes of coaxing, Tim finally let go of the wire fencing and Dad carried him down the ladder and put him on the ground. Tim, thinking he was in trouble, immediately ran into the house.

While Mom and Dad folded the ladder, they talked about how lucky they were that Tim hadn't fallen, or that the chicken wire hadn't broke.

Back inside the house, Tim was nowhere to be found, so we assumed that he was hiding upstairs. As Dad started down the cellar stairs, he stopped part way and looked as Tim sat on the floor sitting in a puddle of green paint, which he had spilled from the can. Dad said it was too funny for him to even be angry.

One spring 2 or 3 years later, when the frost was coming out of the ground, Tim got onto the tennis court and somehow found himself sinking into the clay. His first attempt to extricate himself led to him falling over backwards and ending up with his pants and jacket covered in gray goop. After 2 or 3 more attempts, he finally freed himself and went home. Several weeks later, when it was time to start tennis, the first order of business was to dig Tim's boots out of the mud!

When Tim started school, he went with Karen and I to Brock Avenue Public. One of Tim's teachers told Mom, "Tim is not a slow learner, but he is a day dreamer - he seems to focus more on sports than school topics."

This was indeed true, because most of the time, when school let out for the day, Karen and I would head home, and Tim would head off either to a ball diamond, or a hockey rink. In those days, the city didn't have many arenas with artificial ice - it was mostly outdoors. Many times Tim would come home late for supper, with frozen hands and feet, and ice formed on his hair and eyebrows.

By the time he was 14 or 15 years old, Tim was playing a good level of hockey in the Metro Toronto Hockey league with Columbus Boys Club and a church team called Holy Family.

Tim could hardly wait for January 11, 1960 to arrive. He knew that on that day he'd turn 16 years and be able to get his Driver's License, so late in 1959 he started to harass me and Dad to teach him to drive, even though it wasn't legal.

On New Years Eve, between 1959-1960, there was a New Year’s party at the house on Gladstone. The doorbell rang, as guests arrived, and when I answered the door, I noticed that my car was not in the driveway where I'd left it. Seems Tim had taken my keys from a coat pocket and gone to visit some friends. According to Tim's friends, they'd pushed the car by hand up the street so we wouldn't hear it start. Luckily, the police didn’t catch him.

Tim got his license the day after his 16th birthday, and of course this opened another chapter. Tim would frequently "borrow" Dad's car and go riding with his friends. One night we got a phone call from Tim. He had a flat tire, could someone bring him a tire on a rim. Dad was a little puzzled since he knew there should be a spare in the trunk. When we got to where Tim was stuck, Dad asked about the spare. Tim's reply - "Oh I had a flat last week and figured you'd get it repaired, but you hadn't." Dad's reply, "You didn't tell me you had a flat last week, and I didn't even know you'd taken the car last week."

During the early 1960's Tim got his first job as a typesetter with Cooper & Beatty where he met Helen. Because this was a union shop, Tim was earning more money than me, and almost as much as Dad who had been working for more than 20 years.

His salary allowed Tim to show his amazing generosity. We shared a bedroom on Gladstone, and the closet was always filled with sharp new clothes. Tim would buy them, and I'd wear them, and Tim never refused to lend them to me.

About this time, Tim and I started playing hockey with a group that started at 11:30pm at night and played till 1:00am. You may have seen the "Sleepless Knights" crest on display here. That Christmas, Tim outfitted me with a complete new set of equipment - pants, shin guard, shoulder pads, elbow pads gloves, and an equipment bag to carry it all. As I was thanking him, he remarked, Well ‘Hewlee’, you may not play that well, but when you're on the same team as me, you're going to look the part." He often teased me saying, "We're going to be a defense pairing, so I'm always there to cover your mistakes"

Speaking of defense pairings, one afternoon Tim and I decided to get haircuts together. The place we went to had 6 or 7 chairs, and as it happened, we both sat down at the same time in chairs next to each other. As you know, when you get a haircut, they always remove your glasses. For Tim and me this was problematic since without our glasses we couldn't see past the end of our noses.

The two barbers working on us seemed to intentionally move at the same speed and when the final touches were being done, we both found ourselves with hairspray being applied, a hairnet laid over our heads, and a blow dryer being used to set the spray. As this was happening, I noticed in the mirror, someone standing behind us with a smile on his face. Without glasses I couldn’t identify him, but that night as we walked into the dressing room for our game, one of the guys commented, "Here they come - the terror of the defense corp. complete with hairnets"

We all feel that it was Tim's love of sports that prompted him to start Sutton Sports and later Hewlett Sports, and why he encouraged his girls to be so active in sports.

If I had more time I could tell you about Tim’s success with racing Go Karts. I could tell you about the dozen or so cars he owned in his late teens. No story about Tim and cars would be complete unless I told you about the Chevy Corvette that was his pride and joy, and which he sold when he and Helen started their family.

So many more good memories to share of a fun loving and generous guy. Little brother, I'm going to miss you!

Joe D’Addario (Coach’s Best Friend)

Hello my name is Joe D’Addario and many of you here todaymay know me from Nature’s Emporium. Nature's Emporium was Coach's second home.

I met Coach over 15 years ago. He came into our store to

sell us juice. This may be hard to believe, but at first Coach and I did not get along! He thought I was a know it all and

that I talked too much.

I learned so much from Coach over the years. He taught meto be strong, honest with myself, stand up for my beliefs and to fight for my rights! Our rights! Everyone’s rights!

He worked tirelessly advocating for our freedom to choose

natural medicine and to not lose them to government

regulations. The entire health food industry and all of us thattake natural medicines owe Coach Tim Hewlett a debt of

gratitude.

Much more importantly through Coach’s example he taught me how to be a good husband, a loving father and a better

person.

He loved his wife Helen more than anything, his daughters

Jill, Dena and Angie were the apples of his eye and his

grandchildren were so very dear to him.

When Coach came to our store everyone knew he was

there. He spent hours stuffing the Alive & Vitality magazines with his Doc Wallach flyers. He would even serve and may Iadd, advise our customers. He had nick names for all the

employees, Mel was Meller, Emily was Emmer, Teresa was T and I was Joey! Oh Coach, he was so creative!

When coach had his stroke a couple of years ago most people were shocked! Coach! No way! How could Coach have

had a stroke? He always talked about health… impossible!

Many people didn’t know that some 16 years ago Coach hadhad a heart attack, a disease that ran in his family. If Coach had not embarked on his journey of health and longevity I

believe he would have been taken from us long ago.

After his debilitating stroke two years ago we almost lost our dear Coach again, but many of us close to him knew there

was no way he would have let that happen!

I knew that I would see him walk into Nature’s Emporium

again and a few months later he came in using a walker. Hecould barely speak, hardly remember and half his

body was paralyzed but NOTHING could ever stop Coach. He loved and at the same time loathed it when people said

he looked great --- but it takes time.

A few months later he came in using a cane, his memory

was getting better and speaking in broken sentences. A short time thereafter he came in on his own. He had his

stride back, and his collar was turned up again! He was

telling jokes! Coach was back! You see coach NEVER gave up! He did things on his own terms…even death. That was

the final lesson he taught me. Always do things on your own terms…even death.

I can feel Coach’s spirit in the store, I can still hear him calling me Joey...which deodorant to keep more stock of, which mouthwash to use...do you think he was trying to tell me something? No way! If I smelled bad he’d flat out tell me Joey you stink!!

I’m truly blessed to have known Tim Hewlett and to be

anointed with his spirit. He made Nature’s Emporium, our community and our world a better place!

Because of our common beliefs and purpose we use to affectionately call each other Soul Mates…he’d say to me “Joey don’t ever forget I’m your campaign manager and your Soul Mate!”

I will never forget that my dear friend. I will never forget

Coach Tim Hewlett,

Rest in peace Coach. Rest in Peace.

Other additions and quotes that can be used:

I am so terribly sorry to hear about your dad...Coach. He was my first coach I ever had and he taught me so many lessons about teamwork, friendships and hard work that I carry on with me today. Your family has been such a valuable part of my childhood! If there is anything I can do please let me know. My thoughts are with you.

Love Colby /Kimmer

Just wanted to say sorry to hear about your Dad. He was my all time favourite coach! Thoughts are with you guys. - Amanda Connolly

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Dear Jill, Dena And Angie

Your dad Coach was such a special person!

It was such an honour to have known him and to have been a small part of his life.

He brought joy to so many people. I wil miss Him.

Love and Blessings, Elaine

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I saw your post today about your dad. Just wanted to send you a note to say I was so sorry to hear about his passing and that I'm thinking about you, your sisters, and your mom. There is no doubt he will be missed by many. He was a very special guy, a real fixture in the Aurora community, and from your descriptions....not surprisingly one great dad.

Allison Miller

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Tim Hewlett.

Family man. Community man. Coach. Joker. One of the very good ones...

“I'm sad to hear about the passing of Tim. He was quintessential coach, community representative and, I'm sure, a fantastic dad. Anyone who knows me knows that I wasn't the sports ace in my family. That title goes to my talented brother Scotty. ...but I will never cruising into Hewlett Sports on Yonge Street in Aurora as a teen. I was always treated with a warm welcome, a few genuine questions about my music theatres escapades, a bunch of jokes and more grinning teeth than you’d see at a friggin’ dental convention. I will remember Tim Hewlett as a warm witty man who gave back to his community. One of the real souls. Thinking of all his friends and family now, especially Angie, Dena and Jill Hewlett. Your positivity and contributions as human beings make a whole lot of sense.”

-Sean Collins

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Thank you so much for inviting me to celebrate your father's life.

What an amazing event - it was so perfect - the way you all embodied your Father's spirit. I wish all funerals were such expressions of Love.

I feel truly blessed to have known Coach and all he was.

Thank you again.

Blessings,

Tony Ratcliff

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Thanks for your messages and apologies for my late response; I was hiking on Manitoulin Island with a friend from Germany and did not check my e-mails till I returned.

I am very sorry to hear that Coach passed away but glad that it was so peaceful for him. He taught a lot of people a lot of most valuable stuff and motivated people who were

losing hope. His life was something to celebrate and I will always remember him with great affection.

Helke Ferrie

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Mike wrote: "Just seeing the way you 3 carried yourself through this and who you all have become is a powerful testament on how Coach raised you (and your lovely Mom as well). The mark has been left to keep going through 3 amazing girls who i am proud and happy to know...all the best...xoxo" Mike Berdan

The service showed how much people loved you dad. The speeches that you, Dena and Angie gave were very touching. He was extremely proud of the three of you that day and always. - Amy Leonard

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There were heartfelt and reminiscent speeches, interspersed with laughter, tears, song, and even some dancing. Most of all, we celebrated a man who lived life fully - on his terms, made people smile, and loved to be called 'Coach'. I'll miss you so much Dad. Thanks to all who made it so special by coming to visit, being at the funeral, sending flowers, caring notes, cards and energy.

* * * * * * * * * *

HEWLETT, Tim “Coach”

January 11, 1944 to September 22, 2013

Longtime resident of Aurora, Owner of Hewlett Sporting Goods, Coach of Girls Softball Leagues, Essential Nutrition Consultant, Advocate of “The Charter of Health Freedom”

Peacefully passed away surrounded by family at Southlake Regional Health Centre. Coach will be dearly missed by his loving wife Helen; daughters Jill, Dena and Angie (husband Jamie Robertson); grandchildren Sydney and Jesse (father Sam Burland) and Bryndoven (father Jeremy O’Krafka); siblings Terry Hewlett (wife Margaret Cleveland), Karen Hewlett (partner Rita Benton) and Marlene Butcher; his late parents Maurice and Lillian Hewlett; in-laws Viola and the late Tony Diacovo and all of the extended Bergin and Perugini family, and many friends.

Visitation will be held at the Thompson Funeral Home, 530 Industrial Parkway South, Aurora, 905-727-5421 on Wednesday September 25 from 6-8pm and on Thursday September 26 from 2-4pm and 6-8pm. A funeral service will take place on Friday September 27 at 11am in the chapel with visitation beginning at 10am.

In Coach’s memory donations to the March of Dimes Canada would be appreciated. On line condolences may be made at www.thompsonfh-aurora.com