Peter Worthington david frum
During his lifetime, I used to joke that having Peter Worthington as a father was like growing up with a third, much younger brother. Now that he's gone and can't be embarrassed, I can say it was more like living with James Bond, Clark Kent and Tintin rolled into one.
If you are reading this, I am dead. How's that for a lead? Guarantees you read on, at least for a bit. After attending George Gross's funeral in 2008 I half-facetiously remarked to the Toronto Sun's deputy managing editor, Al Parker, that I had been around so long that no one was left who knew me back then, and I had better write my own obituary. "Good idea!" said Parker with more enthusiasm than I appreciated. So here it is, not exactly an obit but a reflection back on a life and a career that I had never planned, but which unfolded in a way that I've never regretted.
Founding editor of the Toronto Sun and legendary Canadian journalist Peter Worthington died Sunday evening at the age of