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Kevin Dickman died a broken man, homeless and alone in a city grappling with a housing crisis
By Laurie MonsebraatenSocial Justice Reporter
Sat., Nov. 9, 2019timer8 min. read
Paula Tookey always knew she would end up at Kevin Dickman’s funeral.
She also knew his death would be as heartbreaking as his life.
Dickman’s body was pulled from the Don River on Oct. 5, a month after he lost his housing — again. He was 62.
He struggled with mental illness and homelessness for most of his adult life.
“You hated being homeless — being dirty, tired and cold. Being alone,” Tookey said, addressing Dickman’s pine casket in the chapel of the Rosar-Morrison Funeral Home on Sherbourne St. on a grey afternoon last month.
“You often broke into schools and garages to sleep. You were in and out of emergency rooms, and in and out of jails for years. Decades,” said Tookey, who befriended Dickman in the early 1990s when she was working at the now-closed StreetCity transitional housing project.
“I loved you Kevin. We loved you,” she continued as several dozen homeless support workers sat solemnly in the wooden pews, some weeping openly. “But I couldn’t promise that it would get better. For people like you, it rarely does.”
Dickman is among scores of homeless people who have died in Toronto this year, including more than 30 who used the city’s shelter system, which has been running at or near-capacity since the summer.
By Laurie MonsebraatenSocial Justice Reporter
Sat., Nov. 9, 2019timer8 min. read
Paula Tookey always knew she would end up at Kevin Dickman’s funeral.
She also knew his death would be as heartbreaking as his life.
Dickman’s body was pulled from the Don River on Oct. 5, a month after he lost his housing — again. He was 62.
He struggled with mental illness and homelessness for most of his adult life.
“You hated being homeless — being dirty, tired and cold. Being alone,” Tookey said, addressing Dickman’s pine casket in the chapel of the Rosar-Morrison Funeral Home on Sherbourne St. on a grey afternoon last month.
“You often broke into schools and garages to sleep. You were in and out of emergency rooms, and in and out of jails for years. Decades,” said Tookey, who befriended Dickman in the early 1990s when she was working at the now-closed StreetCity transitional housing project.
“I loved you Kevin. We loved you,” she continued as several dozen homeless support workers sat solemnly in the wooden pews, some weeping openly. “But I couldn’t promise that it would get better. For people like you, it rarely does.”
Dickman is among scores of homeless people who have died in Toronto this year, including more than 30 who used the city’s shelter system, which has been running at or near-capacity since the summer.
