Farewell, Chrissy.

I find myself in the unusual position of being speechless. Or rather, in this case, of being at a loss for words.

Chris Hyndman was, to most, a daytime talk-show host, one-half of CBC’s mega-hit, Steven and Chris. He was a ball of kinetic energy wrapped in a stylish exterior. With perfect hair, eyes, and teeth, of course.

In our house he will forever be referred to as “Chrissy”. My late-father-in-law, John Fisher, is responsible for that. Dad spent the last five years of his life fighting emphysema and as a result, spent far too much time in bed or in his easy chair. For Dad, television became a vital link to the outside world. It was his lifeline, source of entertainment and enlightenment, and sometimes, his reason to get up in the morning.

And Chrissy – along with the cast of Murdoch Mysteries – was at the top of Dad’s “Must-See TV” list.

Every weekday at two pm, Dad couldn’t stop laughing – even to the detriment of his health – whenever Chrissy found himself outmatched by a power drill, a wild animal or pretty much anything under the sun. He may have been the comic relief, but Chris Hyndman was laughing louder than any of us. And so the audience loved him. They didn’t see a klutzy gay man with love in his eyes for his partner, they saw a man with a natural gift for performing. They saw a man with an innate flair for fashion, design, both interior and exterior, and the coolest crafts the mind could conceive. Above all, they saw a man who loved to please others.

My father-in-law was the greatest man I ever knew. The very fact that Chris Hyndman filled his last years with such joy made him my hero.

My family met Steven Sabados and Chrissy once; it was years ago, backstage after a taping of their show. The show’s warm-up man – one member of the most talented crew in CBC’s storied history – was happy to allow us to present the guys with a copy of my book. On one condition.

“The Boys will be happy to see you now, but they’ve changed out of their work clothes and so you can’t photograph them in their sweats!”

We chuckled and readily agreed. They were as bubbly and congenial as they appear to be on TV, bringing my daughter to tearful laughter in seconds. My wife and daughter were looking forward to attending another taping of their show this Fall. A fact they reminded me of this week. But then, during lunch this afternoon, one of my co-workers stumbled across a news-feed while checking his phone.

“Wow. I don’t believe it. Chris is dead.”

None of us could believe it. The details, sparse as they were, were irrelevant and will continue to be. All that matters is this: A good, decent man has left this world richer and brighter than he found it.

In the end, that’s all that matters.

Chrissy was a shining light in a world covered in darkness.

He was a jester.

He was an idol to millions of souls who dwell in the shadows, fearful of revealing their true selves to a judgmental world.

He was a hero.

And he will be missed.


About The Hook

Husband. Father. Bellman. Author of The Bellman Chronicles. Reader of comic books and observer and chronicler of the human condition. And to my wife's eternal dismay, a mere mortal and non-vampire. I'm often told I look like your uncle, cousin, etc. If I wore a hat, I'd hang it on a hat rack in my home in Niagara Falls, Canada. You can call me The Hook, everyone else does.
This entry was posted in Hotel Life and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

17 Responses to Farewell, Chrissy.

  1. Steven and Chris was awesome! Sad to hear this.

  2. Ned's Blog says:

    Wonderful, touching tribute, my friend. I didn’t know of him; now I wish I had.

  3. So sorry Robert… I know that when things like this happen, it brings forth fresh pain from another loss. Since I live in Texas I am not familiar with who “Chrissy and Steven” are, but now I will look them up. Take heart Hon~

  4. rougedmount says:

    thank you for writing this…for saying what I couldn’t…it’s horrible. I am heartbroken for his family, his colleagues, his friends..for all those people who simply loved him. it’s senseless. this death is senseless. no matter what happens or what facts come out, this wonderful, brilliant, lovely man is gone. knowing he was alone in an alleyway when he died leaves me sick and cold. numb.

    I ache for Steven. They loved each other so much, were together so long, had such hilarious chemistry on TV. His comedic timing was perfect. His ability to fling those 1 liners was brilliant.

    His loss is immeasurable.

  5. Such a lovely tribute.

  6. “A good, decent man has left this world richer and brighter than he found it.” All that matters indeed. Beautiful tribute, my dear Robert.

  7. A wonderful tribute to a person I did not know but now feel your loss.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s