By Rebecca Mancini
Published in March 2019
If you have walked into the Queen Street Commons, you have likely seen, heard or met Duff. He was often perched at the window seats, his wiry frame full of contained energy and ready to move as soon as he saw someone to connect with. Our dear friend Duff died on December 29, 2018 and it is hard to comprehend our world without him.
Duff found himself on the streets of Kitchener in May of 2007 and it wasn’t long after that he found the Commons. Kayli joined us around this same time and they quickly formed a deep and lasting friendship. The Commons was just a year old and we were learning how to run a Café while also creating an environment where people could feel welcome and understand what it means to share space in diverse ways. As Kayli held the warmth of welcome and a steady framework of what was possible, Duff built on this, stretched it to its limits and steadily strengthened the ideas and practices. This was not done intentionally but it happened in the tension between Duff’s normal ways of being, the place that Kayli was trying to build and the respect and love that they had for each other.
Duff would constantly invite people into spaces around downtown Kitchener. This could be a long-time friend or someone he had just met, often simply by walking up and introducing himself in his gregarious way. He would sweep people past the threshold explaining everything and everyone in the space and making people feel welcome in a real and radical way. The Commons was one of his favourite places to do this and he brought in people from all walks of life. He would tell some it was a safe place to sleep or get warm, others about the food. Kayli would encourage people not to sleep but encouraged everyone to stay and meet new people.
Perhaps one of Duff’s greatest gifts was the way that he could break down the bubble that people put around themselves in public spaces. He would talk to people at the next table; greet people as they walked in the door; suggest what people should order; if there was a child, he’d introduce them to all the toys. He had an open ear to hear your stories and he was ready with one of his own. He gave unconditional acceptance to people and was ready with acts of kindness. As Duff helped Kayli to form this pattern in the Commons, others started to pick it up and this has become part of the fabric and culture of the Commons.
This is perhaps the strength of Duff’s approach. Each of us was invited, time and again, to take part in welcoming new people, doing intentional acts of kindness and sharing stories together. Duff’s sudden absence is a great loss but the community that he helped to build lives on and it’s up to the rest of us to carry it forward. In early February, over 200 people gathered to celebrate Duff’s life through a memorial at St John’s Kitchen and a classic Duff walk through the downtown that ended in a BBQ at the Kitchener Market. It was a fittingly large, diverse and meaningful memorial for a man who reminded us every day to step outside of ourselves and invite others into relationship.
Oh Duff
By Ruthi Knight
you were a pillar. an always. a presence.
you were a friend. an advocate. a voice.
you were a writer, a talker, a linger-er.
you filled our lives with your life.
the albino squirrel, the strawberry patch,
the boys, the stories. oh the stories.
and your hands moved, your eyes would get that twinkle
and there aren’t quite words to describe your
certain kind of style.
oh duff. you were an orphan who made these streets home.
made us feel at home.
you who welcomed, beckoned. shared.
children were treasures. new shops were opportunities.
there was always another story to tell.
to call you a fixture is to miss the vibrant broken beautiful
gift that you were complicated, vociferous, friendly.
I considered you a friend. someone on ‘my list’ to see
when i came to town. to say that you will not be forgotten,
doesn’t do your life justice.
I don’t think i can quite capture or even consider
the immensity of your presence.
I think the stories are going to flow. when marty passed,
there was a march. flowers posted in storefronts.
how do we honour your life? your story?
how do we say goodbye to someone who was always there?
this year has felt its share of loss.
and your passing marks one more.
oh duff, but what a hole that is left…
