Jocelyn Lovell is a very direct man. When he was one of the world's best cyclists for a long period of time in the 1970s, he was known for his competitiveness and for sparring verbally with opponents. The storied career that took him to three medals at the 1970 Commonwealth Games, three Olympic Games and saw him sweep nearly every event, from the sprints to the 102-mile road race, at the 1974 Canadian cycling championships all ended suddenly in 1983 when he was hit by a truck while riding at Britannia and Trafalgar Rds.
Neil Lovell stands in the kitchen of her new energy effcient home beside a poster of one of her favourit e authors, Rachel Carson.
Staff photo by Fred Loek
The bios of him you'll find on-line, like this one from CBC, usually start something like, "As cantankerous as he was talented, the cycling legend's chances of Olympic glory ended in a wheelchair." So it was with a touch of trepidation that I rang the doorbell of the magnificent new home yesterday that Jocelyn and Neil, his wife of five years, have just moved into on the lakefront in Port Credit. Meeting someone in a wheelchair is awkward for most of us. Do you offer your hand? What if the person can't physically shake your hand, or it would be painful for them?
I didn't have long to think about that.
"Shake my hand," said the long-time Mississauga resident, who then proceeded to issue instructions. "You put your thumb underneath mine and then you wrap it around and squeeze hard," he said. Instant connection and instant statement: "I may be disabled but I'm a person who should be treated like any other. I will show you respect. I expect the same."
Now that's an icebreaker.
The only flash of the famous temper I saw was a mock answer to my question of how old he was: "55...goddam it."
It was Neil's idea to turn the couple's new home into a showcase for energy conservation. She's no armchair environmentalist.
In the last five years at their former home, which was just around the corner, she used her clothes dryer a total of two times. Neil will be putting up a clothesline at the new place. "I really like the experience of going outside to hang up the laundry when it's freezing cold," said the B.C. native. "My mother used to do that."
And I love the idea of a brand-spanking new place popping up on the exclusive enclave along the lake distinguished from its neighbours by the new-fangled technology of a solar-panelled roof and the old-fangled technology of the laundry flapping freely in the breeze.