Steve Fonyo looks for redemption

Back when Steve Fonyo was a national hero, he shook hands with Pope John Paul II, chatted with Princess Diana and drove around with George Harrison in the former Beatle’s convertible.

On the day he found out he was losing his country’s highest civilian honour, Fonyo was lying on a hard bunk bed in a Maple Ridge jail cell.

"One of the other inmates shouted, ‘Hey, Fonyo, you’re on TV.’ I got up and turned it on, and that’s how I found out they were taking away my Order of Canada," he says. "A lot of the guards came over to tell me they were sorry. It was a low moment, one of the lowest of my life."

That’s saying a lot, given Fonyo’s list of low moments.

He survived the fall from the brave, cancer-stricken runner — who crossed Canada on one leg and raised $13 million for cancer research when he was just 19 — to an object of public scorn for a shabby criminal record that’s now cost him the country’s loftiest recognition.

"I’m angry about it," Fonyo says now about the revocation of the Order of Canada. "I do feel I was changing my life, and things were going in the right direction.

"They took my Order of Canada — but they can never take away what I did for Canada."

Now, a quarter-century after his historic run, other public officials struggle with the question of just what to do about Steve Fonyo.

The city of Victoria is trying to decide whether a 25th-anniversary plaque should be installed at Fonyo Beach, where the run ended on May 29, 1985. Victoria Mayor Dean Fortin says he’s being pressured to change the name of the beach itself.

"I sure hope they don’t change the name of Fonyo Beach," Fonyo says in a choked voice. "I love that beach. I want to get married there."

It was all so different at that spot 25 years ago, when thousands of people lined the streets of rainy Victoria, media helicopters buzzed over the city and TV networks beamed Fonyo’s arrival live across Canada.

After 14 months and nearly 8,000 kilometres, Fonyo had realized a dream begun by the beloved and iconic Terry Fox. He dipped his prosthetic leg into the Pacific Ocean, and celebrated the end of his gruelling "Journey For Lives."

Fonyo was on top of the world.

"I remember it like yesterday," he said. "Walking to the beach with everyone cheering. My mom and my dad. It was mission accomplished — an impossible dream come true."

It didn’t take long for the dream to become a nightmare. And what’s impossible now is to sugar-coat Fonyo’s criminal record.

There have been five drunk-driving convictions. Passing bad cheques to feed a cocaine habit. Assault with a weapon for hitting his landlord in the head with a wrench. And, most recently, a 60-day jail term for breaching a restraining order barring contact with his girlfriend, Lisa Greenwood, now his fiancee.

Greenwood, who lives with Fonyo in a rented house in Surrey, said neighbours called police when the couple got into a loud and angry argument last summer.

"I didn’t want to press charges, and I didn’t want a restraining order, but they charged Steve with assault anyway, and the restraining order was automatic," she says. "It was blown out of proportion."

Fonyo says he couldn’t afford a lawyer or bail and pleaded guilty to get the issue behind him. He said he was singled out by gangs inside jail.

"It was a nightmare — a guy tried to stab me once," he said. "But the worst part was I never should have been there. I didn’t do anything."

Fonyo blames his other run-ins with the law on depression, and his previous use of cocaine and alcohol, triggered by the sudden and traumatic death of his father Steve, Sr., just a few months after the end of his run. Fonyo’s last drunk-driving arrest was 14 years ago, and he said he doesn’t drink or do drugs anymore after completing a rehab program.

And that 1996 attack on his landlord, who needed 29 stitches? "Selfdefence. It was a fight, and the guy was three times bigger than me."

Last December, Gov. -Gen. Michaelle Jean, acting on the advice of an advisory committee, revoked Fonyo’s Order of Canada for his "multiple criminal convictions, for which there are no outstanding appeals."

The move didn’t come as a total shock to Fonyo.

"They sent me a letter about a year ago saying they were considering taking away the Order of Canada," he says.

"I phoned a lawyer, but he wanted $2,500 up front. I told him, ‘You know how much money I have right now? Less than two dollars.’ I had no way to fight it."

Fonyo is broke.

Although he’s working as a landscaper and part-time mechanic at United Truck and Trailer Repair, he says he owes $137,000 to ICBC, stemming from a 1994 accident in which he was ruled at fault.

He said he is on the verge of personal bankruptcy.

Now, as the 25th anniversary of the Journey For Lives approaches, Fonyo said he’s working, engaged to be married and clean of drugs and alcohol. Balding and heavier than in his heyday, he says he keeps fit by chopping wood in his backyard.

Meanwhile, all around him, debate rages about whether to continue honouring his accomplishment.

"I don’t agree with taking away his Order of Canada — it was like kicking a guy when he’s down," says Dave Fodor, a 49-year-old house painter who lives near Fonyo Beach in Victoria. "He paid the price for his mistakes, so why humiliate him further? I think he needs help and support, not more punishment."

Fodor has teamed up with another local Fonyo supporter, personal trainer Graham Lamb, to try to have a small plaque installed at Fonyo Beach to commemorate the 25th anniversary of the run.

They have run into roadblocks.

A request to the Canadian Cancer Society for financial support was turned down, despite the millions Fonyo raised for cancer research.

"We would not be interested in donating money for a plaque, but would support recognition of his efforts to raise money for the society," said spokesman Gordon Cook.

The City of Victoria has passed the idea to its public-art advisory committee for review.

"I don’t think it’s a bad idea," says Fortin, the mayor. "I’m not sure it can be approved in time for the actual anniversary, which is only two weeks away, but perhaps something could be done later."

What about Fonyo Beach itself? Will the name be changed?

"We have received some complaints saying the name of the beach should be changed," Fortin says. "I personally don’t think that’s appropriate. I think he did a great thing and it should not be forgotten."

But Andrew Murie, president of Mothers Against Drunk Driving, says Fonyo’s criminal record can’t be ignored.

"It’s sad to see this after he did something so incredible," Murie says. "But five drunk-driving convictions means it’s just the luck of the draw that he didn’t kill himself or others. The standards of the Order of Canada must be upheld and respected."

Fonyo said he was devastated and confused when he was stripped of the civilian honour. He still has his medal and framed certificate.

"They never asked for it back — I’ve still got it hanging on my wall," he says. "I thought about grinding up the medal and dropping if off at my MP’s office, but two wrongs don’t make a right."

The Constitution of the Order of Canada requires that "a person who has been revoked must return its insignia back to the Chancellery of Honours," but Fonyo says he has no plans to do that at the moment.

Officials say there are "no specific measures" in place to take back the medal and certificate if they are not returned voluntarily.

Fonyo says he now takes life day-by-day. His goal is to stay away from drugs and alcohol and out of trouble with the police. And he wants to marry Lisa at Fonyo Beach.

"When they cancelled the Order of Canada, I was mad. I was fuming. I always believed it was for something great that I did — like a war hero getting a medal or something. So, yeah, I was pissed off that they could just take it away," he says.

"But I know the mistakes I have made, and I regret them. I’m ashamed of what I’ve done.

"Now I’m just hoping the answers will come to me."

What "answers" is he looking for?

"Well, when I ran across Canada, I could go all day long and still have energy at the end," he says. "It was like a power from another source.

"It’s an accomplishment that will stand forever. I do feel good about that, despite everything."