Columnists
Opinion
Living life fully, even at last bat
5 minute read Yesterday at 2:01 AM ESTOne of the many pleasures of writing a column for this newspaper is the connections you make with readers.
Free Press people are good people, in my experience, and generous in sharing their feedback, whether they agree with my opinions or not.
Sitting in my quiet home office in St. John’s, N.L., roughly 3,200 kilometres from the Free Press as the crow flies, I feel isolated at times, cut off by geography, culture, history and circumstance from the people I am hoping to reach with my words.
I’ve always thought a certain kind of newspaper column can spark conversation between the person writing and the people reading. In receiving your messages, I am learning about your lives and loves and losses — backstories that are often far more interesting than my own. And every now and then, a post lands in my email inbox that stops me in my tracks.
Advertisement
Opinion
Make international doctors feel welcome — or risk losing them
5 minute read Preview Tuesday, Nov. 3, 2026Opinion
Finance minister has impossible choice as federal budget looms
5 minute read Preview Monday, Nov. 2, 2026Opinion
Comfort, kindness, acceptance and grandpa’s store
5 minute read Monday, Nov. 2, 2026My grandfather, Ben W. Kert, had a women’s dress shop along Queen Street in Sault Ste. Marie where a number of Jewish men, many of them “Greenies” from the old country, owned and operated women’s haberdasheries with variable success.
Ben had come from Quebec via Northern Manitoba and Fort Frances, a singular man whose French was as good as his English and whose great heart filled my childhood with glory.
Unlike the other Jewish store owners, Ben W. was born in Trois-Rivières, the only male child who survived with five or six sisters born ahead of him.
Legend has it that my grandfather’s arrival and survival were celebrated with the nickname Sonny. When he left home at 15 (rumour claims his stepmother threw him out) and arrived in Montreal, his first employer would not accept the nickname, so my grandfather invented Ben W. on the spot. The W. never stood for anything. When he died, my mother discovered that his first name was actually Harry.
Opinion
Haunted houses aren’t the only places to find jump scares
4 minute read Preview Saturday, Oct. 31, 2026Opinion
Court ruling concludes Canadian Wheat Board saga
4 minute read Preview Saturday, Oct. 31, 2026Opinion
Meeting after the meeting: where real decisions get made
7 minute read Preview Saturday, Oct. 31, 2026Opinion
Market jump scares: what gives investment professionals chills this Halloween
6 minute read Preview Saturday, Oct. 31, 2026Opinion
Moving past the Indian Act will take time and trust
5 minute read Preview Thursday, Oct. 29, 2026Opinion
Winnipeggers unhappy with city leadership, but mostly unwilling to do anything about it
5 minute read Preview Tuesday, Oct. 27, 2026Opinion
Good judgment always outweighs campaign promises — even broken ones
5 minute read Preview Tuesday, Oct. 27, 2026Opinion
What $4 pumpkin can teach us about workplace culture
7 minute read Preview Saturday, Oct. 24, 2026Opinion
Diesel bill adds to cost-price squeeze on farm
4 minute read Preview Saturday, Oct. 17, 2026LOAD MORE COLUMNISTS ARTICLES