In Memorium: Thomas Drayton

The city I moved into in the summer of '95 is changing. Indeed, all things change and the best of us learn neither to fear it nor be heedless of what it is ushering. If there was an icon of Queen Street West, a spiritual totem that all in the city was not so bad, it was Thomas Drayton (shown pictured, left, with Andre Benjamin of Outkast).

He was often seen outside his marvellous vintage clothing store, Cabaret, or taking walks with his behemoth of a Rottweiler. It seems odd to say this, because in a sense you'd expect it to be commonplace, but Thomas was such a decent, grounded, and inherently benevolent person - indeed, I come back to the word totem to describe such a person. He always smiled warmly and greeted you on the street, regardless if neither of you had ever been formally introduced.

I can say that everyone I know who met him, whether it were fellow dog-walkers in the park or infrequent patrons of his store, were heart-broken to hear of his passing. He died peacefully after the onset of a sudden illness, on October 24th.

Songs are not legion for those who are neither particularly heroic nor lamentable; we prefer to base our odes, it seems, on those who straddle one of two extremes. Lost in the middle, where the majority of us dwell, are pillars such as Drayton. He was one of us and yet still managed to set an example of what could be attained.

My heart broke when I saw the placard in the window display of his store, explaining his passing. There is a copy of the memorium here. It's one thing to keep memories of the dead alive in our hearts - I think, in the case of Thomas Drayton, we can go further and emulate the example he set for us, in his day-to-day style.