Thank You, Beth - Some Memories of Beth Diamond

I worked with Beth in the late ‘80s to mid ‘90s.

I met her at a video production meeting and liked her immediately. Her wit and warm humour filled the room. I think it was her first video project, but you wouldn’t know it. She had a knack for storytelling.

I was a young kid writing scripts then. She said if I was ever interested in “corporate communications” to call her. Hmm, sounded like serious stuff, but I knew working with Beth would be fun. It was.

Beth had many gifts. Big picture thinking. A generous, open nature. Incredible energy. Stellar intelligence and down to earth thoughtfulness. The Midas touch.

I liked how she ran her business day-to-day and was inspired by it when I started my own shop. Three keys: Never miss a deadline, always over-deliver and never, ever nickel-and-dime clients. (They’re your teammates. Treat them well. Learn from them).

Over the years, I urged Beth to write a book on leadership. Her approach to business in those early days was refreshing. Radical. It’s a style more common today thanks to young people wanting a different work paradigm. A new way to contribute. Push boundaries. Find meaning.

I worked with Beth years ago. But was it work? I guess. Seems like we were forever banging out copy and firing it through that ol’ fax machine - but often we talked and when I grew smarter, I listened more. Asked better questions.

Her favourite topics were ideas, ethics, values. Three cherished values were honesty, quality and relationships.

Relationships with friends, loved ones, clients, neighbours, nannies, fellow colleagues, the woman at the restaurant, the courier, the printer, the college chum, the new hire, the designer, the inspirer, the shy intern, the man in the lobby, the person at the meeting…

All of us. And what could be achieved.

One morning she appeared at my office door and said, “I figured it out. I have the answer.” I said, “Good! What is it?” She smiled. “Balance.”

She explained how, in a diverse and changing world, balance is central to all things. At the core. To be respected. Just one example of a casual conversation with Beth.

I can still picture her sitting at that giant partners desk Matthew found for her, talking proudly about her boys, sorting through papers, making calls, putting out fires, editing articles and plans and proposals…

Always active. Spinning plates, she called it and we laughed, remembering the guy on The Ed Sullivan Show.

I can still see her handwriting. Big and expressive. Confident.

I told her if she ever entered politics, I’d be her campaign manager. She grinned, but I meant it. She would have been extraordinary. Part Lougheed, part Pearson with a splash of Tommy Douglas. Beth was born to lead.

Two years ago on my way back to Vancouver, I stopped in to see her. It was our last long talk. We shared old memories. Funny stories. Tough struggles. Those highs and hard knocks that happen in life.

It was like Don Draper’s Carousel pitch from Mad Men. A time machine of moments and snapshots you remember, treasure… Ache to return to. And there we were. Two old soldiers marvelling at the sheer wonder and miracle of it all.

Thank you Beth for your bright light.

For the late night grinds and next day successes. For the strong, hot coffee and cheeseburger deluxes.

For fighting for George Bailey and Bedford Falls.

For leading us up through weeds and tangles to stunning new vistas, and for the excitement we felt seeing those big, blue, limitless skies.

Rest well, Beth. So blessed to have known you.

Text of tribute delivered by Judi Gunter December 11, 2021

To begin, I want to express my appreciation to Beth’s family for giving me the honour of speaking as Beth’s friend at this Celebration of Her Life.

I must say though, I found it challenging to try to summarize all that she was to me.

But I knew she was with me in spirit because I could just hear her advising me – “Judi, don’t over think it!”

My privilege was to be allowed into Beth’s living room during her end days. She’d be sitting in her easy chair, and I would be sitting beside her, huddled in one of the shawls she kept in a basket for that purpose.

Beth kept her space very cool as anyone who entered it knew. Her house. Her rules. But she did her best to keep her visitors comfortable.

Beth didn’t have much time for talking about her health. But if she had a particularly gruesome toe for me to examine, she would show it off with that droll sense of humour.

I know many of Beth’s friends tried to stay in touch with her in the last few tough years. To be honest, it wasn’t easy for Beth to pull on her panty hose and get out.

It was also difficult for her to return e-mails or texts or voice mail. I know this was one of the losses that was hardest of all for her.

She loved being your friend and wished she could have been more present to you.

I’ve been reading the condolences from friends and associates on the websites and they were full of choice words that I think nailed who she was to me.

….Sincere, wise, warm, kind, caring, compassionate, gentle, sensitive, unassuming, big heart and sweet.

Other words and phrases that resonated-- Professional, deep-thinker, insightful, unique-perspective, inspirational, authentic, keen-intelligence, common-sense and my own favourite……. tenacious.

We met December 29, 1989 when Christine Mowat from Wordsmith Associates introduced us as two women who were on the verge of going out on their own. Christine thought that we might want to share some office space and she was right.

Soon after, Beth and I formed our partnership with a handshake, a hug and a logo. The Diamond Gunter Group operated until 1995, and even after we dissolved our “brand” we continued to work together on projects until my retirement from the PR field in 2013.

In those crazy busy years, we could count on each other for moral support as well as practical. We were truly intimates.

Her son Andrew was born prematurely on September 17, 1991. For reasons having to do with getting a babysitter in the middle of the night and Beth being in denial, we found ourselves in the delivery room at Rockyview Hospital. Between her contracting and pushing -- and to the astonishment of the obstetrician -- the Diamond Gunter Group was holding a production meeting. What needed to be cancelled? what needed to be done? while she was indisposed.

She was my touchstone and my sounding board. Sometimes she called me out with honest feedback softened with unconditional acceptance. “You can’t charge clients for that!” she’d assert.

Our friendship endured during the best of times and the worst of times. We lightened each other’s load during our family caregiving years and boosted each other’s spirits when our parents and our spouses died.

Ten years ago Beth found time in her busy work schedule to visit my Mom in the nursing home to give me some regular, dependable respite. Mom asked Beth’s help to fill a Christmas stocking for me, and over several visits talked about the things she wanted Beth to put in it.

Now remember, that was before online shopping and Amazon Prime!

Speaking of thoughtful gifts, Beth was a master of the art of giving. Practical gifts that stand the test of time. For example, when I turned 50 she arranged a scholarship in my name at Mount Royal. Four years ago she gave me the sharpest knife in my kitchen drawer, the world’s best potato peeler and cooking lessons.

But was Beth ever hard to buy for!

For her last birthday I emailed her a couple of fond memories sparked by a T-Shirt I clipped from Facebook. It had an autographed picture of the great man in his fedora with the text “Yes I Am Old But I Saw Leonard Cohen on Stage.”

Beth and I had really grooved on the two concerts we attended – in 1993 at the Jack Singer Hall with our husbands in tow, and in 2012 just us girls. We both winced when the old guy got all the way down on his knees on stage to sing Halleluiah, and then rose up again without help.

I could trust Beth with my inadequacies and vulnerability. She helped me believe better of myself and made me comfortable in my skin.

She was eager to dress me up to attend Worldcom dinners and receptions with my late husband Tom. She wanted me to feel good and make him proud. So she’d take a look at the social agenda and then she’d take me into her walk-in closet. There she would outfit me with duds for each occasion with just the right accessories.

I could tell Beth anything and get her advice, and know she would keep my confidences. One of her best pieces of advice was “Look Judi, if money can solve it, it’s not a problem.” She was really good at taking control of situations and solving problems.

One thing we talked about was the role of God and faith and religion in our lives. She accepted my Catholicism but it wasn’t for her. In 2012 we went on a quest to find her “a spiritual home” – the Church of the Rock had too much ‘Praise-the-Lord’ for her taste. When we went to the open house of the new Mormon Temple, Beth’s genuine curiosity about the role of women in the LDS church led to a little tension. Our best outing was to the Salvation Army Glenmore Temple where she was quite taken with their balance between scripture and music and ministry.

Although Beth did not find a church, she had faith and believed in a loving God. This gives me considerable comfort now.

On my last visit with Beth, she was mentoring her caregiver and companion with some cooking skills. From her easy chair, Beth called out the ingredients from memory, and the steps, and Shannon followed as best she could.

“How much dill did you say?” asked Shannon. “A lot,” explained Beth. Well, it was a dilly of a soup!

My friend of 32 years left too soon and too suddenly.

I loved the picture chosen for her obituary. It celebrated her knowing grin and her genuine happy-to-see-you smile.

I truly congratulate and thank Beth’s people for penning one of the best tributes to a life so-well- lived as the one they wrote about Beth.

By committee even! Beth would be so proud.

-30-

It was a privilege to attend the service and hear the memories of family and friends. I would like to add mine.

Beth and I worked together on projects on and off for over two decades.

Our collaboration didn’t start well! We were competing for the same piece of work but the client decided that we both had something to offer and made us work together.

Often, that’s a recipe for disaster in the consulting world but I needn’t have worried. Beth was so kind, generous to a fault, helpful, modest about her own talents--I saw immediately what a star she was.

We quickly decided we liked working with each other more than we liked that client and vowed to find other projects to do together while running our own companies.

Over the years, we’ve seen the ups and downs of oil and gas and many other major projects besides. Beth defined that era. For all her petite frame, she had the work capacity of a Clydesdale. No one could plough through work like her while still raising a family and being the rainmaker for her company.

My enduring memory will be the loading dock strategy session: We often met on the loading dock--behind the steak house when she was on 11th, then later in the alley behind 6th Ave. In deepest winter, a strategy session required parka, toque, scarf and mitts. While Beth sucked back several cigarettes, we’d be busily writing away, leaning on the dock wall while trucks backed in and porters wheeled overloaded dollies carrying mountains of printer paper, or Van Houte coffee refills.

I once threatened to take a photo for clients of us at work to which she quickly replied, “they’ll love the sausage; they don’t need to see how it’s made.”

She truly was one of a kind. Beth, what a privilege to have known you, worked with you, shared loading docks with you. I miss you, you’re in my heart, I wish you were still here.

A beautiful tribute to an amazing person. Rest well dear Beth. You won't be forgotten. Rosemarie Enslin

My sincere condolences to the family. Beth was an amazing friend, coach and community builder. I’m grateful for the time we had together. May she Rest In Peace.

D’Arcy Levesque

I want to send my sincere condolences to Beth’s sons, sisters, other friends and colleagues who are saddened by her passing as I am. Beth was amoung my oldest friends, having met in the first grade at the old Glenmore School. Over the years we remained friends of different proximity as life and circumstances moved us along. Her incredible wit, sparkling intellect and many other gifts and talents always made it a pleasure to share her company. I was saddened she was burdened by ill health in recent years. Her journey ended far, far to soon. Rest In Peace dear girl you will be missed.

Joan McAuley Endersby

What a beautiful tribute to an amazing human being. Beth left an indelible mark on my life and my career – as a new entry to the field at NATIONAL, she encouraged me in ways that have remained with me today. That “quiet word, some thoughtful edits, and a much-needed laugh,” are an illustration of her nature - gentle, unassuming, accessible and inspirational. One year during a company Christmas dinner, she sidled over to sit beside me and my +1 guest. As I was a junior staff member at the time, I was struck by the way she leveled the ground - never putting on airs, pulling out the best of those around her, and pushing us always to an even higher standard of excellence.

I’m the twin of Judi and can attest to how beautifully intertwined these women have been over decades. On any visit I made to Calgary there would be a visit with Beth. Out to lunch when she was well, and more often in recent years to her home. Beth is in my memory as a knowledgeable and clever woman, with a sense of humour and strong will to do as much as her physical challenges allowed. I know Judi has a yawning gap in her heart now, and so do I. Sympathies to her boys and sisters.

Anne - I was reading the Herald and noticed Beth's obituary. I seemed to recall that you had a sister Beth, and read her obituary. It has been a long, long time, but so sorry for your loss. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family. - John Phillips - Calgary

My five years with NATIONAL spanned the incredibly difficult final year of Beth's husband's life and the aftermath of his death. Beth's ability to be a caregiver to him, a mother to her sons, a leader to her team, and a strategist to her clients, sometimes all in the same day, was inspiring. She always found humour and humanity in all of life's joys and sorrows. I am grateful to have known her.

I learned so much working with Beth on the Board of the United Way of Calgary - she was smart, strategic with a heavy dose of pragmatism and a person with big heart for helping others. She will be missed.

I have known and admired Beth over the years. My most sincere and profound sympathies go to her three sons, Joseph, Matthew and Andrew in the loss of their gracious mother.

As Chair of our Board of Directors, Beth continually provided steady guidance, grounded in common sense, integrity and kindness. We will miss her perspective greatly and, even more so, the calm and kindness she embodied.

Beth embodied the “trusted advisor” persona that consultants at NATIONAL strive for. I worked with her off and on for 30 years and will miss her advice, her insights and her support.

David Mann

Beth was a true leader in her industry. I learned a great deal from her and treasured the times we were able to work together. Beth exuded integrity and was at all times kind and caring. Beth's passing will be felt across many industries in Calgary, where her counsel and wisdom made Calgary a better place to do business.

Beth Diamond was my best friend since we were fifteen. We went to school together and ate lunch together every day. She was my Maid of Honor at my wedding. We went to ballet class together as adults and studied under Madamme Cheremeteff. We stayed in close touch over the years. She always called me on my birthday. I haven't lived in Calgary for quite a while, but stayed with her two years ago. She gave my son Russell Adderson a summer job at her firm. I will miss her terribly

I am deeply saddened by the loss of Beth. As a former colleague of hers, I have profound respect for her professionalism,insightfulness and authenticity.

Beth was an amazing person. She was a trusted advisor and friend for many years. Her insight and political savvy was always on the mark and she brought compassion and humanity to very complex issues and conflicts.

Beth saved my life. She hired me in 1978, and while I left Calgary in 1979, she continued to support and encourage me. Her kindness, generosity, and compassion meant that I finally settled into a teaching career. I was privileged and honoured to know Beth and to have had the good fortune to meet her family, including her late husband and her parents, her three sons, and her siblings. She was blessed with a keen intelligence and a capacious heart. I know I'm not the only one who benefitted from her gracious generosity.

I met Beth when I moved from Ottawa in 2011 and she hired me on the spot, took me under her wing, guided me personally and professionally. She was strong, kind, sweet and tenacious. RIP Beth.

I met Beth in September 2018. Beth was "Small but Mighty" She a great friend, confidante and mentor. I miss her greatly.

Jill Chambers

Beth's counsel was always available, insightful and appropriate for our business'. Her immediate understanding and guidance in complex situations was appreciated and helpful. As Mr. Clark has penned in his address to Avenir Global employees, Tracy and I, too were beneficiaries of Beth's talents and wanted to share our sorrow and expressions of condolence to her family and colleagues as we've just become aware of her passing. Beth's father, Rene was a key mentor to me in my early career and had worked at senior levels with three generations of our now 109 year-old family business. Beth perpetuated many of Rene's traits and I pray for the betterment of everyone they are evident in successive generations of Diamonds! Scott and Tracy (BURNCO and Tricycle Lane)