904 THE ADVOCATE
VOL. 78 PART 6 NOVEMBER 2020
lounge and noticed that she was holding a copy of The Western Idea of Law.
When I asked her about it, she mentioned that she had been reading
through the compilation over the course of several weeks while eating
lunch. She said how much she enjoyed it and wished she had the chance to
talk to J.C. about it. That is a thought that has come to me frequently over
the last year, but like many, I am grateful for the many conversations with
him we did have a chance to enjoy, the insights from which we will always
carry with us.
This has taken me too long to write. Well, not exactly.
I have written a series of obituaries, each being
grossly insufficient to pay tribute to a man who was
larger than life, who loved the law, who loved me and
who left a huge hole in the world when he left.
Don Morrison, my dad, loved being a lawyer. He
came to law school as a mature student when I was a
baby. With my mom as the primary wage earner while he was studying, Dad
was the emergency caregiver, using his first-year law books to lull me to
sleep. He apparently used to leave me with the admin staff at UBC Law during
classes. Can you imagine doing that at Allard now? He articled at a corporate
firm, but he had spent years working in criminal justice as a parole
officer and civil servant before law school. Criminal law was his passion.
His years prosecuting major crimes on Vancouver Island were his
favourite years of his career. Lectures about the importance of the presumption
of innocence, proof beyond a reasonable doubt and ensuring justice is
done were plentiful when I was growing up. I used to come home from an
after-school program to find our living room covered with crime scene photos
and other evidence as he pieced together winning closing arguments—
a hazard of being a prosecutor’s kid. Another hazard was that, no matter
where my friends and I wanted to go out, he always seemed to know of
some grisly stabbing or other event that happened there, cautioning that I