Monday, June 06, 2011

The Story of Alan Brydges


(pictured above) Alan Brydges


His name was Alan Brydges. And as I found out recently while standing next to the Rideau River near the old Brighton Beach, he was the nicest man I never met.

It was a rainy day, and a group of us had gathered for the annual 'Swan Release'. In 1967, the Queen presented Canada with a rather unique 100th birthday gift: six pairs of Royal swans. After wintering at the 'Swan House' in Leitrim, the graceful descendants of the original birds are set free to nest and glide through a lazy summer on the scenic Rideau River.

Christine Hartig (city of Ottawa) is the program co-ordinator for the swan program.
This is my fourth year attending the swan release, and I have learned a lot from Christine. Including the fact that the swans are not given human names. Each summer, the swans are given the freedom to do what comes naturally, and to be enjoyed (from a distance) by the people of Ottawa. They are in a 'semi-wild' state, therefore, no human names. Actually, no names at all.

That's why it was so odd to hear Christine say, 'Wait til you see Big Al'. She gestured towards a wooden crate. Inside was one of the biggest swans I'd ever seen, a massive male that was all attitude and personality and impatience. He couldn't wait to get on the river. I asked about the name 'Big Al'.

Christine introduced me to Andrea McCoy-Naperstkow, a Parks and Rec manager who works out of the National Equestrian Park. Between Christine and Andrea, my question was answered.

‘Big Al’ the swan was named after Alan Brydges. Sometimes in life, we meet a person that through one reason or another, becomes our favourite person to be around. Alan Brydges was that guy. For 20 years, he worked as a foreperson at the Equestrian Park. He was caring, funny, an old fashioned gentleman farmer, non-judgmental, a dedicated family man, a hard-working jack of all trades. Alan Brydges’ often gruff personality could never truly mask his sweet core of kindness. As Christine recalls, you could ask Al if the sky was blue and he might respond with a cheeky grin, ‘Maybe, maybe not’. When the Royal Swan program was transferred to the city of Ottawa’s Parks and Rec department two years ago, Alan Brydges suddenly found himself knee-deep in swans. His manager Andrea would often hear Alan grumbling about this turn of events (not quite what Alan had signed up for), but before long, he was sneaking moments with the big white birds. Helping with their care, assisting with vet visits and of course ensuring all went well when the swans were released into the Rideau River in the spring.

Alan Brydges passed away on December 6th.

Alan’s story continued on that early morning in late May, a group of us gathered to enjoy the release of the Royal Swans. Andrea and Christine explaining the tale of the giant male swan in the wooden crate. Hatched in the swan house, this bird quickly earned a reputation for being cheeky and independent and full of character. He was different from the others. And if a swan can burst with confidence, this one did . With a personality to match his size, the big swan was stomping his feet and becoming increasingly impatient inside his wooden crate. The swan crew lifted the crate to the river banks, opened the door, and out rushed Big Al.
For Andrea and Christine and Alan Brydges’ precious family and friends, there was no doubt that this swan deserved a very special name. And as he swam from the riverbanks and flapped his wings just enough to make a scene, Big Al then looked back sweetly.

A big man’s spirit lives on, in an unlikely but magnificent form. Alan Brydges. Thank you for sharing your world with us.



(above: Alan and Christine Hartig at the annual Swan Release

(above: Alan helps the vet examine a swan)

(pictured above) 'Big Al' shows his big personality

(pictured above) the biggest of them all: Big Al