EDMONTON — There was no question which photograph to choose when it came time for Chi Ping Chan’s family to select something for their beloved father and grandfather’s obituary.
It was the photo that captured the man at the age of 83 doing what made him a legend in southwest Edmonton through the 1980s, 1990s and well into the 2000s: running shirtless down a snowy sidewalk in the dead of winter, head covered with a tuque, arms wrapped up to his elbows with massive mittens and shoulders slightly hunched in his distinctive running style.
“This is, in a way, iconic,” his youngest son, Dr. Ming Chan, said of the image. “When we think about him, he would diligently and conscientiously brave the elements, no matter what it was.”
Chan did not move to Edmonton until 1983, but between an exercise regime that grandson Joe Chan described as superhuman and an ability to make fast and lasting friendships in spite of any language barriers, the senior left his mark.
Chan died May 29 at Grey Nuns Hospital from lymphoma. He was 91.
His death prompted remembrances throughout the city, but particularly among those with roots in the southwest.
In one heavily circulated Facebook tribute, lawyer Nathan Po described how Chan was a familiar sight to anyone who grew up in Riverbend, particularly kids like him riding the morning school bus. “For years, we’d drive past him at different stages of his run and we knew he was running for miles and miles, day in and day out — regardless of rain, snow, sleet or Edmonton’s dreaded winter chill,” Po wrote. “As we drove by, the kids would whisper to each other that he had been a ninja in his former life.”
Riverbend runner Doug Wiltshire recalled Chan fondly in a letter to the Journal. “Should the city decide to put up a piece of art again, it should be a statute of Mr. Chan placed in (James) Ramsay Park, along part of his usual route on Riverbend Road,” he wrote.
Even before Chan moved to Edmonton and infused himself in its mythology, he had lived a full life. Born on Oct. 10, 1920, he grew up in a small village in China’s Guangzhou province. The eldest son of a poor family, he received one year of formal education before he had to leave school and take on any job that needed to be done, be it on the family farm or elsewhere in the village.
When Japan invaded, Chan fled to Hong Kong at his father’s urging, making the dangerous 320-kilometre trek by foot. It was there, during the Second World War where Chan met his wife, Chan Wong. Their marriage lasted for more than six decades, until his wife’s death in March 2011.
After the war, Chan worked for the government as a labourer, building and maintaining public works projects and working his way up to foreman. He held that job until he retired, in addition to countless part-time jobs that his six children remember him working to support the family. His children said that extreme work ethic inspired them, too: Three went on to careers as doctors, one as an engineer, one as a nurse and one as a physical therapist.
The couple moved to Edmonton in 1983, quickly making themselves at home on Richards Crescent where Chan lived until he fell ill.
At Chan’s funeral, family and friends also remembered the quiet and determined man for his self-taught know-how, which he applied to everything from carpentry projects to learning English once he arrived in Canada.
Through English courses at the Alberta Vocational College, the Cantonese speaking-Chan met teachers who recorded lessons for him on cassette tape. He’d listen to those lessons on his headphones during his three-hour runs. Ming said the family would sometimes hear from other runners along Chan’s route about how their father would stop them, hand them the earphones, ask them to listen to a troublesome word on the tape and then explain to him what it meant.
One of the most inspiring things about Chan’s athletic legacy is that he did not start running until his 50s, when a doctor diagnosed him with Type 2 diabetes.
And why no shirt in all but the coldest of temperatures? Ming said it was simply the way his father felt comfortable running. He’d leave the house wearing something, then strip the layers off as he got hot. He just seemed to have an extremely warm core, Ming said.
About seven years ago, Chan gave up most of his running routine in favour of swimming at the Kinsmen Sports Centre, going there daily with his wife. Chan quickly became a fixture in the pool, just as he did on his running route. Staff through a 90th birthday party for him and he was inducted into the Kinsmen’s Wall of Fame. “If he missed a day at the pool, it would always amaze me how many people would ask, ‘Where is Chi Ping today?’ ” staff member Laureen Hollihan said at Chan’s funeral.
Ming said the family has been extremely moved by the many condolences and memories. “What touched us and others is his willingness to give his best and his determination to persist even when conditions get difficult and the weather nasty,” Ming said.
Chan is survived by daughters Yiu Chan, Wai Doyle-Chan and So-Kuen, sons Dan Chan, Alec Chan and Ming Chan, grandchildren Adele, Joe, Paul, Leo, Zoe, Rowan, Ashley, Christine, Naomi and Adrian, and great-grandson Holden.
-Edmonton Journal