Inside TERRY FOX's Van

[@ravenbaa7989]

My dream van

[@stevehanes1268]

Another nice salute to a Canadian icon! TY JCVC!

[@jcvancouver]

Thanks for watching Steve. 👍👍

[@batwithglasses]

So great to hear yer conversating again JC, you've been missed.
Terry was one of the good ones..lived just down the road from us in Transcona in the Peg.
I really miss Canucks games at the old Coliseum...
Take care my friend☕🙂

[@jcvancouver]

Thank you my benevolent friend. 🇨🇦👍

[@peaceworld5393]

I remember this story! Sad yet uplifting!
Thank you for sharing this moment in the Life and Inspiration of Hope !
☮️🌼🐝safe

[@jcvancouver]

Thank you kindly my peaceful friend. 🇨🇦🙂

[@mikelevesque9753]

Very cool keep up the good videos

[@jcvancouver]

Thank you kindly Mike. 👍👍

[@uncleweed]

Not sure why BC Place isn't named in his honour yet... he was a huge inspiration for 10 year old me (jogger and elementary school "run for fun" distance champion)

[@jcvancouver]

Good call Dave! 🏃‍♀️🇨🇦🇯🇵

[@grantvanderhoek]

Greatest Canadian Ever, Legend!

[@420greatestqueen]

Another great video! I was at the PNE last week and saw the van but it wasn’t open and there was no information booth. Nice to learn about the important part it played in Canadian history. Thanks!

[@jcvancouver]

Thank you kindly my friend. 👍🇨🇦👍

[@Mo_Taser]

Another interesting report, JC.
In April of 2006, Black Press Media published this memoir of mine about Terry. They edited it down some and published it in newspapers around the province. It's a little clunky in places, and my writing has improved considerably since then, but here it is in its entirety.
Marathon of Enlightenment
It was the summer of 1979 in southwestern British Columbia and I was living life to the fullest, and getting little of substance accomplished. I drove a 1960 Corvette, and of course I had the pretty girlfriend which was mandatory for any guy who drove a Corvette. Her father was a doctor and the family lived in an oceanfront home on Bedwell Bay, which was a smaller arm of Indian Arm, which was a smaller arm of Burrard Inlet. Every day I would take the winding, tree-shrouded Ioco Road from Port Moody to Bedwell Bay to see my girlfriend. I was a young man and I worked, but not all that much and not all that hard. I was most concerned with doing things that were self-gratifying and I was accomplishing that goal to near perfection every day. Truly impacting anyone’s life was the furthest thing from my mind.
As I would travel along Ioco Road, I would sometimes see a young man running, a jogger out getting some exercise, I thought. He was around the same age as I, with curly-brown hair, and looked quite typical. He would often be wearing grey or beige shorts and a similarly-coloured t-shirt, and he ran along the shaded sidewalks of Ioco Road with what appeared to be a single-minded determination. I never honked my horn at him, but I’m quite certain that if I had he would have hardly taken notice. But there was something very unique about this young man that was readily apparent in that he made no effort to cover it up. At some point in his life he had received an above-the-knee amputation of his right leg and was running on a prosthetic. He did not run with ease. As a matter of fact, it all looked quite uncomfortable for him, but there he would be, nearly every day, running along Ioco Road with his shuffling, half-step gait for reasons I could not imagine. He was a curiosity to me; why would he be doing something which appeared to take so much effort when he could be, like me, sitting on a beach and drinking beer with a pretty girl? I had no idea.
The summer of 1979 passed, the leaves on the maple trees changed colour and abandoned their elders, and the traditional soggy Lower Mainland winter came and went. In April of 1980, the blooming of the Pacific dogwood signaled that spring had officially arrived. But there was something more that was enriching the air of the cockpit of my sports car than just the honey-smell of dogwood blossoms. News reports were beginning to trickle in on the airwaves about a unique event which was taking place along the highways of eastern Canada.
Terry Fox was born in 1958 in Winnipeg to Betty and Rolly Fox. The family moved to Vancouver when Terry was quite young, eventually settling in Port Coquitlam. Terry was a cancer survivor and for lack of a better metaphor, decided to make lemonade from a very big lemon he received in 1977 when he was told he had cancer and must have his right leg amputated. He then decided to undertake a monumental task - to run across Canada on one leg in order to raise money for cancer research. Nearly thirty years later, there are few Canadians who have not heard of Terry’s “Marathon of Hope”. Then, after completing 5,373 kilometers of his intended goal and like a champion thoroughbred that runs until its heart explodes, Terry’s heart exploded on national television when he told all of Canada that on the advice of his doctors, he had to withdraw from his Marathon of Hope and return home. Cancer had returned to Terry’s body, this time to both of his lungs.
At first, I had no reason whatsoever to believe that it was the same young man I had seen hobbling along Ioco Road so many times the summer before. As a matter of fact, I did not even consider it. The young man I had seen running was furthest from my mind and I had not seen him in months. Then I saw the newscast along with Terry’s photo and my world became bathed in enlightenment.
It was him.
When I had seen this curly-haired kid running along Ioco Road, he actually had a plan and a method to my perception of his madness. He had not been running simply to stay in shape for himself; he was running to improve the lives of others, and that was why I saw him shuffling along Ioco Road so many times during the summer of 1979.
I last saw Terry when I was working as a bouncer at the Brass Rail Pub in Coquitlam. He was famous by then, his Marathon of Hope was over, and his cancer was now terminal. About a dozen of his friends had brought him from the Royal Columbian Hospital to the Brass Rail for refreshments.
I approached Terry’s table, welcomed him, and introduced myself. He shook my hand, and that was about it. I seem to remember saying something mundane like "Good job Terry," or something else which in retrospect seems properly mindless.
Terry was very shy, and simply said in return, “Thanks. Nice to meet you.” I made no mention of how crazy I thought he was all those times I saw him running along Ioco Road while he was preparing to change people's lives. I simply finished work, grabbed a six-pack of beer to go, and hopped into my Corvette and headed back in the direction of Ioco Road.
Shortly afterwards, the body that was both Terry’s biggest obstacle and his biggest reward gave out and he died of cancer on June 28th of 1981. The flesh and blood and bone that Terry was made of had failed him - and despite his perception that he was failing us when he could not continue the Marathon of Hope, he did not fail anyone. I now choose to remember Terry as I first saw him - with no cameras and no entourage and no international television coverage. Just a relatively normal young man running along Ioco Road, dressed in nothing but grey and single-minded determination, and trying to show an ignorant young fool how to prepare to change people’s lives by doing something extraordinary.
April, 2006
M.G.H.
Courtenay, BC

[@jcvancouver]

Incredible stuff my friend. Thank you for sharing. 🇨🇦👍

[@caseylee2394]

Havn t watched, yet. But seeing the Van haunts me.
I'm a Terry Fox fan from way back! 😶
I recall watching Terry Cry. He was in pain. He was in Thunder Bay.
The Cancer Society dude was putting pressure on Terry to add 2000 miles to his run.
To veer off his original route by 1000 miles and then return. $$$$$$$$$.
Terry was crying. He knew he couldn't
Do it. His cancer was back, he was in PAIN.
But 'sweet' terry relented.
Then died 🙏.
I watched in ignorance, originally.
I watched again and witnessed - medical murder.
Cancer society orginally refused supporting Terry.
Chimed in for $ when he got famous. Then killed him.
Sad. 🙏

[@megiasparks]

I went to on Victoria British Colombia and saw a statue of terry

[@uriahpapaya8353]

😢😢

[@stevejensenmusic6380]

Dear J.C.V. when Erin and I travelled across Canada a few years back there were some poignant places of importance re the Terry Fox Legacy .. please let me know if we may share those with you ... lots of love sent your way .

[@jcvancouver]

Would love to see that Steve. Thank you. 🇨🇦👍

[@stevejensenmusic6380]

@@jcvancouver you have my email ? or should I send it via . .dahhhss Twitter Feed ?

[@jcvancouver]

@@stevejensenmusic6380 Twitter might work Steve 👍👍

[@jcvancouver]

@@stevejensenmusic6380 I can’t figure it Steve. Maybe I should get your email.

[@bl_leafkid4322]

Sorry Terry Fox 42 years later with all monies raised still no cure for cancer.