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– 30 –
e-KNOW editorial
By Ian Cobb
Belle Ede; Ron Ede; Winnifred Weir; Sheila Tutty. The giants of newspapering in the history of the Columbia Valley.
Belle, Ron and Winn passed on years ago and Sheila left us this morning, in the embrace of her family.
Sheila and Stuart arrived in Invermere about 28 years ago from Jasper, along with their young children Rhiannon and Brendan. Sheila had moved on from the Jasper Booster to The Valley Echo, where she was production manager (see also: did everything and three times the speed of everyone else).
Efficient; proficient; and fun.
Those were my first impressions of Sheila when I met her in 1991, in the back shop of The Echo, among the ghostly shadows of the by then removed printing press. A large-headed computer sat amongst the now extinct tools of the newspaper trade, scattered around her workstation; pica pole, lupe, razor pens, stock art folders etc.
It didn’t take long before Sheila’s high energy ‘get ‘er done’ personality carried her up the proverbial corporate ladder, becoming publisher of The Echo in 1996.
She was known around Westmount Press (then owner of The Echo) as “The Golden Girl,” for helming one of the top moneymaking community newspapers around.
What separated Sheila from most of her fellow publishers was her real commitment to not only running a profitable newspaper, but a good one, too.
She brought excellence and she expected it in return, and it worked. Not many community newspaper publishers can say they had a 15-year run where their paper was considered among the best in the country and province by industry peers.
Sheila’s management style was 100% maternal. Her staff were her kids. Because we worked together for so long she referred to me as her “work husband.”
Our ability to work so well together for so long prepared me for the new ‘newspaper’ world Carrie and I are venturing forth in now.
A clear indicator that someone is doing a good job as a manager is when staff doesn’t turn over on a regular basis. Because of the lousy wages inherent in the community newspaper industry, staff members move on quickly, seeking larger pay cheques and markets. That wasn’t the case at The Echo.
Mother Sheila: she’d bring treats into the office; she’d scold us for leaving dishes in the sink; for leaving a mess in the dark room; for swearing too much (me at any rate).
She also tolerated my insufferable moods and immaturity and defended me when certain community members wanted me hung from the highest branch. She also defended me from ‘corporate,’ when most publishers would have run away crying. For those who you fight against the Jumbo resort issue, you can thank Sheila Tutty for The Echo’s coverage of it. She stood strong against the man’s world and pushed back with style.
She stood for the reasons of journalism though she had no formal training.
She was beyond hands-on and she worked vast numbers of hours every week, often working a part-time job at The Black Forest Restaurant.
She was always creating something, including exquisite quilts. She always had an ear for someone hurting; her heart was too soft to be a newspaper publisher but she did it anyway. A mother in the truest sense; you do what you have to do and goddamn it she got things done.
It thus makes sense that a force of nature like Sheila Tutty would take her leave from this plain shortly after a major celestial event.
Her true spirit shone through in the final years of her life, ones filled with battles against the cancer that finally overcame her last night.
Practical and courageous as ever, she contacted me Monday to tell me she’d been told by doctors she had “months” and would I mind writing her obituary. I told her it would be an honour
Yesterday, Rhiannon told me it was more likely “days.”
This morning Brendan told me she had passed in the night.
Sheila spent years fighting cancer and giving countless hours of volunteer time for the Canadian Cancer Society – providing her signature abundance of can-do energy.
She loved the valley community and she revelled in her grandchildren and family. She has been a tower of support for her children and family-at-large and an angel for Stuart.
She was an angel for me, too. She brought the smack when it was needed as well as the friendship and motherly/sisterly love and support.
For all that and more I ask that you remember with those who knew and loved Sheila Tutty and raise a glass to her arrival in heaven, a place that will soon be run far more efficiently and things will get done three times faster than before.
As I write this I feel her standing behind me, like she did so many times after I would start griping about my computer not working.
“What’s it doing?” She’d say, walking into my office and standing behind me, arms folded.
“It won’t (pick X Y or Z),” I’d whine, whacking my keypad.
“Did you try (pick X Y or Z)?” She’d ask.
“Yessss,” I’d grouse like a 15-year-old reacting to his mother.
“Try it again,” she’d push.
I would and it would work. Every time.
She’d pat me on the shoulder. “There ya go!”
So I guess it is time to put this edition to bed; another guide off to the press. Another deadline met.
Excellent work partner.
#fuckcancer
– With love to family and friends
