Tag Archives: Ridleians of Distinction

Going the Distance: Jim Butterfield ’70

Raised on rowing by Ridley’s best, Jim Butterfield ’70 knows how sport can inspire, support and bring people together. Now, the Bermudian businessman shares how he keeps moving forward—and is giving back to his community.  

Jim Butterfield was on the soccer field when Coach Mark Gallop came up and asked if he knew how to row. “I’d only seen rowing in the movies,” Jim remembers. “I knew how to row a dingy; I knew how to row a punt—I had no idea he was talking about something that was 63-feet long. But I fell in love with it right away.”

“I’d only seen rowing in the movies. I knew how to row a dingy; I knew how to row a punt—I had no idea he was talking about something that was 63-feet long. But I fell in love with it right away.”

Until Mark came to Ridley, rowing hadn’t been taken all that seriously. The Englishman had arrived just two years prior and had been busy overhauling the school’s rowing programme. Having rowed at both Hampton School and Cambridge University, Mark knew exactly what a competitive rowing programme entailed.

“The guys would get on a bus and go into Port Dalhousie. One group would go off and have some cigarettes and the others would row, and then they’d switch off,” Jim explains. “Then Mark came in and said, ‘The bus is being sold. If you want to row, you’ll need to buy a bicycle and you’ll need to ride down to the rowing shed and ride back. And don’t be late for dinner.’ Suddenly rowing was demanding.”

As part of his vision, Mark recruited local Olympic oarsman, Neil Campbell who, at the time, was living in nearby Vineland. “You’re a Ridley boy,” Mark entreated the athlete. “We’ve got rowing now. Would you come and coach us?” The rest, as they say, is history. Between Mark and Neil, what had once been a casual pastime soon became a big deal on campus, a challenging sport to which students aspired.

And, Jim quickly became one of them. He had come to Ridley in 1962 when he was just 12 years-old, fresh from Hamilton, Bermuda and following his older brother, George ’57. Jim’s brother, Tom, who was just slightly older than he, was sent to St. Andrew’s College—there was room for only one new Butterfield at Ridley that year, and their parents decided that Jim would benefit from having George nearby.

“I wrote six letters home that first week,” Jim laughs, looking back. “It was a bit shocking and I couldn’t just jump on a train and head back to Oakville or Toronto; I was homesick.”

But Jim soon settled into school, making friends and exploring the athletic opportunities he hadn’t had back home. And he was careful to heed George’s advice. “You’re from Bermuda—they’re going to want to put you in the pool,” he’d warned. “Don’t get in that pool! Take up ice hockey.”

So, Jim tried it all, from soccer to cross country to track and field—politely passing on cricket and football—and, as his brother had suggested, hitting the ice. “I loved ice hockey,” he smiles. “We used to break into the rink at two or three o’clock in the morning and skate until the night watchman kicked us out and sent us back to bed.”

Jim served on Ridley’s Board of Governors for 10 years and was active in the Bermuda community, fundraising, working to connect and rally Ridleians for the Old Boys meeting each year and organizing accommodations for the school’s visits to Bermuda.

But when he got to Upper School and started rowing, the sport took over. “We accomplished a lot, and would have died on our swords for Neil Campbell,” Jim remembers fondly, then the smallest of Ridley’s heavy eight at five-foot-ten. “He was an amazing coach and mentor, an idol for most of us. He would get out of the coach boat and into the heavy eight with us; he’d train with our crew after training with his own Olympic squad, then would show up perspiring in his track suit and say, ‘Ok, let’s get started.’”

Theirs was the first crew to go to Washington, D.C., the first to go to The Royal Henley. Each meet was a success—and their competitors were taking notice. Soon, Ridley became a powerful player in the high school rowing arena, their oarsmen the ones to look out for. Jim went on to win the Neil Campbell Oarsman of the Year.

“Our football coach, Reverend Hunt, used to say to us, ‘Keep your head up and keep your feet going. It was good advice.”

After Prize Day, Jim enrolled in Business Administration at Boston’s Northeastern University, a school known for its strong rowing programme. He ended up rowing in a single, due to his height, and became friends with classmate, Jim Dietz, who was the number one U.S. oarsman at the time. “He became a bit of a coach and mentor,” recounts Jim. “I would just do what he told me to do. We rowed together prior to Munich and he said, ‘Jim, I’m trying to get to the finals’—so I knew where I was going to end up.”

Jim represented Bermuda in the Men’s Single Sculls at the Munich Olympics in 1972—the only Bermudian ever to do so. That same season, he’d casually ‘popped in’ to run the Boston Marathon, showing up without any training or even a registration number. Because he was in such great shape, he ran the race in an impressive three hours, then spent the afternoon training and rowing.

“When I got back to my apartment that evening, I called Ed Pilgrim, Ridley’s headmaster,” Jim shares. “He’d once told us these stories from when he’d ran the Boston Marathon and it had struck me as something that would be cool to do one day. That always stayed with me.”

When Jim returned to Bermuda, its windy weather and big tides soon made it clear that it wasn’t a place to row. Recognizing he’d need to pivot, Jim sent his rowing shell back to Boston and took up cycling, hoping to qualify for the Olympics in Montreal. However, during a rather disappointing trial in North Carolina, he realized that, without a team, he didn’t have a prayer. “I was an individual in a team sport,” he shrugs. “It wasn’t going to happen.”

Debbie would go on to place fourth in the 1985 Boston Marathon and participated in the U.S. Olympic trials. She’s run many impressive races and has become an inspirational figure in distance running, helping to bring women into the sport.

It was then that Jim took up running seriously, training for marathons with his wife, Debbie—who’s an athletic powerhouse in her own right. Back when Debbie had first announced she was going to take up marathon running, they’d laughed. But, inspired by the runners she’d seen in Boston, she soon proved her doubters wrong, training every morning before work. She would go on to place fourth in the 1985 Boston Marathon and participated in the U.S. Olympic trials. Debbie has since run many impressive races and has become an inspirational figure in distance running, helping to bring women into the sport.

It was 1976 when the pair moved back to Bermuda; they enjoyed road running as a couple and understood the sacrifices required to excel. An early morning or late for dinner was easily forgiven, as each pushed themselves to get their miles in for the day.

“Debbie and I were among the first white people doing any sort of road running. It just wasn’t done. People would see us running down the road and yell, ‘Hey! Are you late? Do you need a lift?”

However, their training was proving to push cultural boundaries as well. Bermuda is a friendly, yet conservative place, with a history of slavery and segregation of which its citizens are mindful. In the late seventies, sport was still quite segregated—soccer and cricket were for black athletes and fans, while sailing was for the white population. Road running was one of the ways this divide was bridged, and today sports in Bermuda is very much integrated.

Jim and Debbie earned spots on the board of the Bermuda Track & Field Association and the Butterfields soon became synonymous with running; they were among a group that started the Mid-Atlantic Athletic Club. In the years that followed, Jim ran the Boston, Deluth, New York and London marathons, and competed at the Commonwealth Games.

“[The Hawaiian Ironman] was the result of a guy I knew giving me a magazine. He said, ‘Jim, you’ve gotta read this; these guys are sick. But I didn’t think they were sick—I thought, this sounds so cool, and I started training in earnest.”

As back trouble forced him to incorporate more swimming and cycling into his routine, Jim brought triathlon to Bermuda; he was organizing races as far back as 1979. In 1981, Jim finished the Hawaiian Ironman Triathlon in seventh place.

In 1999, when Jim turned 50, he cycled 100 miles a day from Irvine, California to Boston, Massachusetts to raise money for P.A.L.S., a cancer care centre in Bermuda. It took him 30 days. Seven years later, he was inducted into the Bermuda Sports Hall of Fame.

Since Jim’s semi-retirement in 2018, Spencer runs Butterfield & Vallis, the family’s fourth-generation food import business. The company was founded in 1918 by Jim’s grandfather, H. St. George Butterfield.

That passion for sports runs in the family: his wife, daughter-in-law, and niece have all competed on the international sports stage, and Jim’s sons are both highly athletic. 38-year-old Tyler is based in Colorado and is a professional triathlete, finishing seventh and then fifth in Hawaii. Spencer, now 40, competes in triathlons in his downtime, and heliskis, wakeboards, and surfs. Since Jim’s semi-retirement in 2018, Spencer runs Butterfield & Vallis, the family’s fourth-generation food import business. The company was founded in 1918 by Jim’s grandfather, H. St. George Butterfield.

That passion for sports runs in the family: his wife, daughter-in-law, and niece have all competed on the international sports stage, and Jim’s sons are both highly athletic.

For Jim, who has worked there for more than forty years, stepping back has offered him the perfect opportunity to focus on philanthropic endeavours. It seems that generosity also runs in the family—and Jim comes by it honestly. His grandfather awarded scholarships to four different schools in Bermuda as early as the 1930s.

It’s clear Jim’s service and contributions mean a lot to those around him. He’s widely recognized as a generous leader in the community, who works to improve the social, economic and environmental conditions of his country. He was honoured by the Association of Fundraising Professionals in 2015.

Photo published November 15, 2015 on Bernews.com.

Jim is modest when speaking about it, however. In a small place like Bermuda, he reasons, it’s easy to see where the need is, and it’s often simple to resolve—whether that means replacing the church’s appliances so they can feed those who need a little help, or rebuilding the living conditions at the Salvation Army—A project Jim completed with fellow Ridleian, Kirk Kitson ’58). Jim is also on the board of the Sloop Foundation—a cause close to his heart that sends at-risk youth out to sea for a week on board a hundred-foot ‘floating classroom.’ 

“As I’ve gotten older, it feels good to be able to give back, to participate. I look at those Houses—Merritt House and Gooderham House—and I think about those Old Ridleians who gave to the bricks and mortar so that people like us could attend Ridley, could create those great memories and friendships.”

Speaking with this Old Ridleian, it’s clear how sport can serve one’s life in so many positive ways: breaking down barriers, bridging communities and bringing a family closer together. And, as time goes on and goals change, the athlete’s journey might shift, might even go from land to sea and back again—but that demand for excellence, that drive to meet a challenge, never does quite fade.

“Our football coach, Reverend Hunt, used to say to us, ‘Keep your head up and keep your feet going,’” Jim says good-naturedly, as we finish our conversation. It’s a beautiful sunny day in Bermuda, and he’s heading out for a bike ride around the island. “It was good advice.”

This article was printed in the latest issue of Tiger magazine. Learn about our alumni, get community updates and find out where Ridley is heading next! Read more from the Spring 2021 issue.

Community Centre: Jamie Massie ’76

“Decide early on: are you a giver or a taker?” It’s the advice that has always carried him, both as an athlete and in business. Now, hockey enthusiast, Jamie Massie shares how he’s helped grow the city of Barrie—and helped raise a new generation of leaders.

On the ice, he may have played defence, but when it comes to his city, Jamie Massie ’76 is definitely at the centre. The businessman and long-time hockey player moved to Barrie a year after graduation from Northwood University, intrigued by an opportunity to acquire Barrie’s General Motors dealership and advance the community he’d grown an affection for from childhood. In 1929, Jamie’s grandfather, a First World War veteran who lost his leg at Vimy Ridge, came to the city with four fellow amputees, and set to work building the lake-front cottages where Jamie would spend his summers.

When Jamie moved to the city in 1981, it had a population of just over 25,000 people. Today, Barrie is booming, boasting 160,000 residents and on track to reach over a quarter of a million in the next 15 years. Thanks to Jamie’s leadership, Georgian Chevrolet has prospered right along with the city and has since gone on to become one of the top five Chevrolet dealerships in Canada.

Jamie still lives in Barrie with his wife, Wendy and their sons, Andrew ’03, 36; James, 32; Jeffrey, 30; and their youngest, Alex, 26. If the name, ‘Alex Massie’ sounds familiar, you might know him from sport. Alex is a well-known Paralympian; he lost his leg in a wakeboarding accident in 2011. After an intense year of recovery, Alex returned to high school to play football as a starter on the offensive line. He also went back to snowboarding, adapting so well to his prosthetic leg that he decided to pursue a competitive career. Alex raced for Canada at the 2018 Winter Olympics in PyeongChang and is the number one ranked Para-snowboarder in the world, winning the World Championships in 2019.

The three eldest work with their father at Georgian International, a company which grew out of the businesses Jamie took on over the years and is widely recognized as one of Simcoe County’s most influential. Today, it’s a leader in the automotive industry and a dominant real estate investor in residential and commercial land opportunities. Amongst other points of pride—including being an instrumental part of the local hospital, airport, library, and more—Jamie helped found the Automotive Business School of Canada at Georgian College, of which Jamie sat on the Board for many years. 

Georgian College Auto Show

Many of the friendships Jamie made on campus at Ridley he maintains to this day. He still works alongside good friends Ward Seymour ’74 and Dave Bunston ’76. He met Dave during childhood summers on Lake Simcoe more than 50 years ago. “We played hockey together at Ridley. Dave never passed the puck,” Jamie laughs good-naturedly. “He always said if he passed to me, I never passed it back.”

Georgian’s most recent project, a sprawling golf club in close proximity to one of their developments, was purchased in 2017 and has since undergone substantial improvements. The Braestone Club is now home to a new club house and a restaurant called ‘The KTCHN,’ a high-quality build which blends with the land from which it emerges. Its atmosphere is timeless and serene and, for Jamie, it’s more than a business; it’s a place he wants to be.

The Braestone Club’s atmosphere is timeless and serene and, for Jamie, it’s more than a business; it’s a place he wants to be.

Chatting with the friendly alumni this past fall, Jamie is clearly whip-smart when it comes to his business endeavours, but he’s comfortably casual about them, too, and his care for those in his community is genuine. To put it simply: business that does good, makes good sense.

“I’m not just a philanthropist. I’m a business guy. But I’ve always found that if you give to your community, they give back to you.”

“I left Ridley with the belief that you could be a giver or a taker in this world,” Jamie explains, quick to credit his time at the school with his service mindset. “So, we look at the bigger picture, and invest in things which improve quality of life for our family, for the people we work with, and the community at large—over the years, I’ve found that if you give to your community, the community gives right back to you.”

J.C. Massie Field

If you knew Jamie at Ridley, you’d remember that he’s a hockey lover through and through—he started playing when he was just four—and his passion has followed him throughout his life. “Ridley was ideal for someone who loved sports and hockey like I did,” Jamie remembers of his time in Upper School, citing mentors like hockey coach, Keith Mawhinney, Bill Montgomery and David Mackey.

For Jamie, the traits formed through a lifetime of hockey—qualities like leadership, sportsmanship, competition, and being a good teammate— have served him well beyond the rink. And, when the opportunity presented itself, he worked to ensure others could have that same advantage. In 1991, when he and his friends learned that the local Jr. B Colts were going to forfeit their season due to a lack of funding, the three former players were determined to help. They stepped up and paid off the team’s debts—and found themselves the new owners of Barrie’s junior hockey team.

As it turned out, there were some fantastic players on the Colts—John Madden would go on to win three Stanley Cups—and when the team won the Sutherland Cup that first season, the new owners were motivated to do more. “We thought, Barrie’s a hockey town. We can do this,” Jamie remembers. “It had an OHL team in the 1950s, so the question was, what can we do to bring an OHL team here now?”

They approached City Council with the idea and found the answer was a bit tricky: Barrie would need an arena to host a team, but they’d first need a team to argue for a new arena. So, they worked with the Ontario Hockey League and the City of Barrie to accomplish both. Soon, they were researching and finding creative ways to fund a new arena.

The project resulted in the Barrie Molson Centre (BMC) — renamed the Sadlon Arena this past March — which was the first junior franchise in Canada to introduce private suites, a club seat programme, a restaurant at ice level, multiple entertainment venues, and a permit to sell liquor at games. “Our overarching idea was that it wouldn’t be just for hockey fans,” Jamie reasons. “This would be for the community at large, so that families could come together to support their junior team.”

“The community loved it,” he says, looking back. “We sold out suites in the first 48 hours they were on sale and had 800 club seat holders in the first month. The support from the community paid for [the arena] within its first ten years, and the children of Barrie grew up seeing these local idols who became more important to them than the NHL players.” Since its build, the cities of London, Kingston, Mississauga, and St. Catharines have all built arenas based off a similar model—the BMC venue has changed the OHL and CHL landscape.

“We taught our players how to grow, to be in leadership roles as young players. They’d come in as 16-year-olds and leave to pursue a hockey career or go to university to become doctors, lawyers, contributors to society. Inherent in our philosophy was that development in people that would ultimately give back to their communities.”

As time went on, many of Barrie’s players graduated to the NHL and a number now boast Stanley Cup rings. But Jamie used the sport platform to not only give kids the chance to play, but as an opportunity to teach them about service. “Inherent in our philosophy was that it would result in people giving back to their communities,” he says simply. “So, we taught our players to grow, to take on leadership roles. We believed that our responsibility wasn’t just to develop great hockey players, but to inspire amazing human beings.”

Jamie Massie skydiving

“Find things to work at that enhance your life. Don’t work for the sake of a dollar; work to make your life your life.”

Amongst other initiatives, the team ran a programme called Colts & Cops; each player was paired with a police officer from either the OPP or the Barrie Police. The officers would mentor the player and the player would visit the local schools—there are 143 in Simcoe County—where they’d speak with students about everything from the importance of strong values to peer pressure to drugs and alcohol. It put the hockey team, looked up to by so many local youths, right at the heart of the community.

In 2007, Jamie sold the team. He’d watched his four boys grow up at the arena and knew it was time for someone else to take over. But to this day, some of his fondest memories were from those years with the Colts. “My favourite was in 1999,” he recalls. “We’d had five NHL first round draft picks on that team, and those five players—I remember each of them—were out playing hockey with my four sons on my backyard rink. It’s 9:00 o’clock at night and it’s snowing out and they stop the game to shovel the rink and keep playing.” 

Mayor Jeff Lehman takes a quick drive in a vintage Jeep as he inspects over 1000 Canadian solders from Base Borden after they arrived at City Hall during the Freedom of the City Parade.

Two years later his career meandered again when Canada’s Minister of Defence, Peter McKay appointed Jamie Honorary Colonel of Canadian Forces Base Borden—a role dating back 300 years in military history and intended to build a strong esprit de corps among the community and the base. For Jamie, whose grandfather had sacrificed so much in the Great War, it was an incredible honour, and he took his new responsibilities seriously. For the hundred-year anniversary of the base, he spearheaded the creation of a monument in honour of the million-and-a-half soldiers who had served Canada and trained at Borden over the century.  

The initiative resulted in The Borden Legacy Monument, a stunning memorial comprised of two walls and a standalone statue. The first wall, 32-foot long and eight-foot tall and built of black and white granite, reads in both French and English, “Through these gates, the sons and daughters of a grateful nation pass, serving Canada with honour, duty and courage, so that all may live with freedom, democracy and justice.

The second holds a brass urn. In 2015, Jamie raised money to take 75 people with him to Vimy, France. With permission to patriate the soil, they collected samples from the various battlefields and ceremoniously placed them in the urn. Jamie and his family took soil from the spot where his own grandfather had lain bleeding so many years before.

A statue of a bugler stands six-foot tall on a five-foot high black granite base. He faces east, calling to those who were lost on the battlefields of Europe. In 2018, on the 100th anniversary of the war’s end, Jamie and his family returned to Vimy and placed an identical bugler, six-foot tall on a five-foot high black granite base, facing west. This statue stands in the shadow of Alward’s monument and calls to Canadians to remember their sacrifice.

Unveilling of Borden Legacy Memorial at CFB Borden
The Prime Minister, the Right Honourable Justin Trudeau and CFB Borden Honorary Colonel, Honorary Colonel Jamie G. Massie unveil the Borden Legacy Monument at Legacy Park, Canadian Forces Base (CFB) Borden on June 9, 2016. Photo by Sergeant Pierre Thériault, CFB Borden Imagery

Legacy Park was built at the entrance of the base, and the finished monument was unveiled June 9th, 2016 by Prime Minister Trudeau and Hon. Col. Jamie Massie. 11,000 people were in attendance that morning, and 8,000 troops marched on parade. It was an effort of great significance that shows what matters to Jamie most: family, history, community, and resilience.

It’s a service-oriented mindset that has always been key to his success and it’s still fuelling him decades later. For those just starting out? “Decide early to be a giver,” he advises. “Look at the bigger picture, ask how can I help move the world forward? Then run hard. Push yourself. Get out in front of your peers and be that contributor who builds your life early. You’ll find society will help push you along the rest of the way.”

Now looking towards a time when his children will put their own stamp on the city they love, Jamie looks forward to seeing where the journey will take him next. But if there’s one thing his story makes clear from the start, it’s that he’s always forged his own path.

As our conversation concludes, Jamie offers one final tidbit for Ridleians—and they’re words to live by. “Find things to work at that enhance your life,” he suggests simply. “Don’t just work for the sake of a dollar—work to make your life your life.”


This article was printed in the latest issue of Tiger magazine. Learn about our alumni, get community updates and find out where Ridley is heading next! Read more from the Spring 2021 issue.

Right on Track: Sam McGlone ’97

Sam has always loved a good challenge—the secret is to keep one step ahead. The retired triathlete shares her experiences at Ridley, what’s keeping her running these days, and the conversation she wishes more young athletes would have.

These days, Sam McGlone is taking life in stride, albeit at a quick pace. The Olympic triathlete may have retired from competition, but as an emergency physician with two little ones at home, Sam has more than enough to keep her running—and, in case you were wondering, she’s still as active as ever.

The San Diego-based doctor just started working at Sharp Memorial hospital, following residency at the University of California. Her husband, Brent, is an emergency physician as well, and the two have a five-year-old son, Cole, and a daughter, Alex, who’s three. “It’s a little hectic,” she says cheerfully, but she’s clearly enjoying every minute. “The kids are high-energy, funny, active—they’re everything you’d imagine.” They come by it honestly. Their parents met through triathlon; Brent was an elite athlete and swim coach, who, like Sam, transitioned to medicine later on.

Dr. Sam McGlone with PPE on

“It wears on you,” she admits. “Everyone’s got this fatigue because it’s been going on so long—but as a health care worker I’ve seen the numbers rise. People are coming in sicker and you know a lot of it is preventable.”

As we speak, it doesn’t take long for the elephant in the room to be addressed: Sam is working as a doctor in the midst of a global pandemic, and she is at turns empathetic and frustrated. “It wears on you,” she admits. “Everyone’s got this fatigue because it’s been going on so long—but as a health care worker I’ve seen the numbers rise. People are coming in sicker and you know a lot of it is preventable.” She pauses. “But I’m also sensitive to the fact that people are over this and just want to see their families. They’re not ready to make those sacrifices indefinitely.”

The upshot of California living, however, is that their family can be outdoors year-round, whether that means being active, taking a break, or socializing safely outside. The seasonal perks of San Diego are, admittedly, quite different from St. Catharines, where Sam and her sister, Karen ’95 grew up, right near Ridley, where they attended Upper School. “My parents always felt education was a priority, so when it came to high school, we started looking at different options,” she remembers. “Ridley immediately stood out because of the breadth of opportunity there. To have that in your own backyard and be able to go as a day student was amazing. We loved our time there.”

From dabbling in music and theatre, to exploring new sports and writing for the school newspaper, Sam enjoyed the diversity she found on campus. She rode horses, was a harrier, joined the swim team, was on the First Girls hockey team for a time, and was the 1993 Midget Girls Cross Country Run winner, earning a Tiger Tie for her athletic achievements. “When your kids are young, you think about putting them into one sport or another, but I’d encourage them to try a variety,” she offers, thinking of her own sport-loving little ones. “In your late teens and twenties, you’ll need to focus in order to get to a high level. But there’s a lot of time before that needs to happen, and you’re asking for burnout if you specialize too early.” 

“My parents always felt education was a high priority and when we started looking at options for high school, Ridley stood out because of the sheer breadth of opportunity there. To have that right in our own back yard was amazing.”

It was Ridley’s cross-country coach, Maggie Swan who first encouraged the 14-year-old to look into triathlon. “She said it was a great way to stay in shape during summers for the track and cross-country seasons,” Sam recalls. “So, I borrowed a wet suit and a bike and did the Grimsby Triathlon. I don’t think I did terribly well that first one, but it was challenging and a lot of fun. I decided, ‘I want to get better at this.’”

In the summers that followed, Sam participated in races across Ontario, but it was her training with a team in Australia that really helped up her game. “Australia has strong teams and training programmes,” she explains, having gone for a gap year after high school,“and I took a big jump up in my level. When I came back to Canada, I made the Junior National Team, and that launched me to international competitions.” 

Sam McGlone running mid race

From there, she was, quite literally, off and running. Having always intended to go to medical school, Sam moved to Quebec to study kinesiology at McGill University and trained with a club while she completed her degree. When she was presented with the opportunity to make Team Canada, Sam decided to postpone med school to see where her talents could take her. She knew there was only so long she’d be able to compete in a tough endurance sport like hers, and the opportunity was too good to pass up.

“In your late teens and twenties, you’ll need to focus in order to get to a high level. But there’s a lot of time before that needs to happen, and you’re asking for burnout if you specialize too early.” 

After graduating from McGill in 2002, she moved to the Canadian Training Centre in Victoria, B.C. It was a smart gamble which led to a successful 10-year career as a professional triathlete. Sam raced in the International Triathlon Union (ITU) World Cup Series, won the Canadian National Triathlon championship in 2004 and 2005, and represented Canada at the 2004 Olympic Games in Athens.

“It was the highlight of my life,” she remembers of her time in Athens, that first call to her mom back home drowned out by the cheers in the stadium. “In terms of the race itself, it was like any other: the format’s the same, the officials, the competitors—and in some ways, that was reassuring. But everything surrounding the Games was so much bigger than anything I’d ever seen. Triathlon is one of the smaller sports, so we don’t get a lot of mainstream publicity. We’re not used to the crowds. Walking into the stadium for the opening ceremonies where there were 80,000 people and media and cameras flashing was just on a different scale.”

Shortly thereafter, Sam transitioned to competing in Ironman races and won gold at the 2006 World Championships—she’s the only Canadian to ever win. “Canadians have a long line of pretty incredible triathletes,” she says proudly. “Because of the size and climate of our country, we produce some impressive results. There have been some amazing women who have come before and after me.” Sam would go on to finish second at the 2007 Ironman World Championships in Kona, Hawaii and took home the Ironman title in Arizona in 2009.

Sam McGlone running mid race

“Canadians have a long line of pretty incredible triathletes. Because of the size and climate of our country, we produce some impressive results. There have been some amazing women who have come before and after me.”

And, along the way, she wrote, contributing a monthly column to Triathlete magazine where she tackled questions on training, racing and lifestyle. For Sam, it was a great way to communicate with the pre-Twitter triathlon population, in a time before social media was what it is today. Days were tough but satisfying for the young athlete, on a perpetual loop of eat-train-sleep-recover. A solid race performance was her reward.

“At the time, you’re not striving for balance,” she recalls, though that’s admittedly changed over the years. “You need to have that singular focus. You might train 30 to 40 hours a week, but then there’s another 20 that’s dedicated to recovery so you can do your next session—stretching and sleeping and nutrition and massage and physical therapy and lifting weights. It’s the difference between those who do triathlon recreationally and those in the professional ranks; all those peripheral things that give you that extra edge.”

Despite the challenging work, spending her twenties racing and in training camps was an opportunity to travel and make friends with athletes from around the world. “I was 22 when I started full time, 24 when I competed at the Olympics,” she explains. “And you may miss out on some social aspects of day-to-day life, but I never regretted it. I went to Australia and Thailand and Japan and all over Europe—and you can’t do this forever. You have to retire at some point.”

“It’s hard to think there will be an end to a sports career, but of course, there will be an end. Most of us retire in our thirties, which is still young. So, we have these athletes who have dedicated their lives to this one thing, becoming respected experts in their field. Suddenly they’re starting from scratch somewhere else.”

The topic of retirement warrants more serious attention, Sam posits, and is part of ongoing conversations around mental health. For many athletes, the focus is on performance, their identity bound up in their sport, their confidence contingent upon their success. When the time comes to transition out, many feel aimless.

“It’s hard to think there will be an end to a sports career,” she says simply. “But of course, there will be an end. Most of us retire in our thirties, which is still young. So, we have these athletes who have dedicated their lives to this one thing, becoming respected experts in their field. Suddenly they’re starting from scratch somewhere else. It’s very emotional.”

Dr. Sam McGlone in scrubs with sunglasses

“Some people need more closure and time to transition, but I chose a quick turnaround so there wasn’t a lot of time to soul search and lament the loss. There was this immediate new identity that was just as exciting and full of potential.”

Sam completed her final race, the 2012 Antwerp 70.3, just ten days before becoming a first-year med student at the University of Arizona. “I deliberately chose something all-encompassing to throw myself into,” she shares. She’d always known she’d go to med school and the time it would take to complete that, in large measure, dictated when she left competition. “Some people need more closure and time to transition, but I chose a quick turnaround so there wasn’t a lot of time to soul search and lament the loss. There was this immediate new identity that was just as exciting and full of potential.”

“I think emergency medicine tracks a lot of athletes, triathletes, especially. We’re the jack of all trades: we’re never going to be the best in swimming, or biking, or running—but we’re good at doing all three. In emergency medicine, we’re not the best in any one specialty, but we know enough about everyone’s specialty to identify and treat emergencies. In some ways, it’s very comparable to the triathlon mindset.”

In many ways, med school was as time consuming and competitive as triathlon ever was, and with a well-laid out path ahead of her, she was able to improve and track her gains in a similar fashion. The same grit, mental focus, and determination Sam used for competition, was now channeled into a new vocation. 

Dr. Sam McGlone holding a sign with three fellow graduates standing in front of a helicopter. Sign says "Congratulations Class of 2020" with a logo from the UC San Diego Health System.

“I think emergency medicine tracks a lot of athletes,” she muses. “Triathletes, especially. We’re the jack of all trades: we’re never going to be the best in swimming, or biking, or running—but we’re good at doing all three. In emergency medicine, we’re not the best in any one specialty, but we know enough about everyone’s specialty to identify and treat emergencies. In some ways, it’s very comparable to the triathlon mindset.”

As for the physical adjustment, the decreased physical activity was a bit of a shock. She eased herself out of the heavy, training-focused weeks and into a more sustainable lifestyle, enjoying the opportunity to explore new sports and return to others. These days, Sam goes on ski trips in the winter, paddle boards and mountain bikes and runs along the beach. Regardless of the hustle and bustle of day-to-day life, Sam and Brent make certain the other has that time to unwind and decompress.

What’s clear from this Ridleian and Athlete of Distinction is her dedication to life-long personal development. Sam has always set the course, tracked a pace set by her own watch, and persevered on the uphill. These days, the path is more about balance, as she raises a young family and tends to those within her care—but that drive, that gold-standard mindset, hasn’t changed one bit.


This article was printed in the latest issue of Tiger magazine. Learn about our alumni, get community updates and find out where Ridley is heading next! Read more from the Spring 2021 issue.

Charting New Territory: Winston Godwin ’08

Winston Godwin talks resiliency, going global—and how he’s making waves in his home of Bermuda

If you’re new to Ridley and find yourself poking around the stories of its various members, you’ll hear time and again how grateful Ridleians are to be part of a truly global community. Each year, international students from over 60 countries flock to the school to study, soon discovering a second family, forming lifelong connections and learning, not only from classrooms, but each other. The result? A broad worldview which helps inform each journey, lighting paths that take them far beyond the Marriott gates. For Winston Godwin ’08, his years spent on campus were some of the best of his life. “It’s certainly beautiful,” he smiles. “but it’s the people who make it special. When I go back to visit, it all comes rushing back.”

Winston grew up in Sandys, Bermuda, where he’s known widely not only for his work in the marine field, but as an important voice from Bermuda’s LGBTQ community. For years, the aquarist and his Canadian husband, Greg led the fight on same-sex marriage—a battle which still continues to this day. Winston’s clear articulation of the argument for equal rights, along with his perseverance and resilience, led to his being named Bermudian of the Year in 2017, and a Ridleian of Distinction the year that followed.

Born of hardworking parents, Winston’s father worked for years at the Bermuda Telephone Company, his mother a housekeeper at the Elbow Beach Hotel. “My dad always felt education was the biggest investment he could make for his children,” remembers the alumnus, who attended Saltus Grammar School before coming to Ridley. “He had always wanted us to go to Canada and believed sending us away to school would help broaden our horizons, our minds—ultimately the world.”

“My dad always felt education was the biggest investment he could make for his children. He had always wanted us to go to Canada and believed sending us away to school would help broaden our horizons, our minds—ultimately the world.”

After high school, Winston studied at the University of Guelph, graduating with degrees in Geography and Environmental Analysis and Geographic Information Systems. As someone who now works in the marine field, having joined researchers from around the world on The Turtle Project and clean-up crews on plastics research vessel, the Sea Dragon, he’s long been passionate about marine life, and has seen firsthand the human impact on our oceans. He now works as an aquarist, caring for animals at the Bermuda Aquarium, Museum and Zoo.

A British territory settled by the English in the early seventeenth-century, Bermuda is self-governing, a parliamentary dependency which sits under a constitutional monarchy. Its small population—around 70,000 people—lean toward conservative views. Shortly after the amendment of its Human Rights Act in 2009, which ruled it illegal to discriminate against someone based on their sexual orientation, Bermuda held a referendum to see where the public stood on same-sex marriage. Only 45 per cent voted, leaving the question officially unanswered, but of the voters, more than 60 per cent were opposed. “Bermuda’s LGBTQ community is only a small part of the population,” Winston explains. “And when you have the majority voting on the rights of the minority? It’s…problematic.”

Winston and Greg found themselves at the centre of an historic case when the newly engaged couple answered the call to challenge Bermudian law. At the time, living in Canada, they were largely out of the fray, far away from what was playing out in Bermuda’s courts. But when his post-graduate permit expired, Winston left his job at Toronto’s Ripley’s Aquarium and took a position back home. Suddenly, he was in the thick of politics, finding himself alternately challenged and supported, and moving awkwardly through the world on defence.

By May 2017, the court found with the couple, concluding that marriage is a right which all citizens are owed by law. The legal success was short-lived, however; Parliament put forth a bill (a challenge rooted in religion), which soon evolved into The Domestic Partnership Act. Though other LGBTQ couples had married by then—including Winston and Greg—the bill passed into law and, once more, same-sex marriage was illegal.

Since then, as other couples have come forward to appeal the decision and same-sex marriage has, again, been deemed legal by the Bermudian courts; the government has, again, stepped forward, taking its appeal all the way to Bermuda’s Supreme Court. After three separate cases, same-sex marriage is still legal, though Parliament continues to fight it. The final challenge, which will be heard December 2020 by the U.K.’s Privy Council, will be their final appeal, the fate of same-sex marriage in Bermuda decided once and for all.

Winston and Greg have now lived together in Bermuda for three years, Winston loving his work at the aquarium, Greg an occupational therapist at the mental health hospital nearby. Both miss the freedom they had in Canada, where it wasn’t such a challenge to simply be themselves, to simply be together. As Winston put it in an interview with The Royal Gazette, “My being gay: I have as much choice in that as I do being black. In being left- or right-handed. In being a woman or a man.”

“It’s all about being visible. Just showing who you are, speaking about what’s important to you, allowing others to see you. It shows people they can be themselves too—that’s a fight in itself.”

Change may be slow to come to the conservative islands of Bermuda, but it is coming. Like anywhere, the members of its LGBTQ community work hard to be recognized and accepted. Bermuda celebrated its first Pride this past August, hosting the largest parade the islands have ever seen. “We expected a couple of hundred people,” Winston reports, thrilled with the event’s success, “but 5,000 showed up. It was a celebration of everything that’s come before it.”

Winston, who was in his twenties when he first came out, losing the support of family and friends, found its other forms of strength where he least expected. Support can often come quietly, he’s learned over the years—a like on social media, a photo, an article shared by someone he didn’t know supports the same cause as he. “It’s all about being visible,” he imparts. “Just showing who you are, speaking about what’s important to you, allowing others to see you. It shows people they can be themselves too—that’s a fight in itself.”

Winston doesn’t know where life will take him, but he does know it’s getting easier. “It’s woefully optimistic to expect everyone to love you for who you are,” he admits. “And that’s ok too.” For the young couple, their lives together reaching out ahead of them, there’s still plenty of work to be done to ensure everyone’s rights are recognized—whether in the courts or on the streets. But for now, on the islands of Bermuda, they’re learning though the water’s surface may look still, there’s always movement underneath, and sometimes farther below that, common ground.

This article was printed in the latest issue of Tiger magazine. Learn about our alumni, get community updates and find out where Ridley is heading next! Read more from our summer issue.

All That’s Real: Jane Lewis ’90

With her new album recently released, singer-songwriter, Jane Lewis shares how she found her voice—and is helping others find their own.

The chapel light travels warmly along the pews, coming to rest on the rich curves of the piano. A woman sits at its keys. She’s slight, fair, her face framed by a riot of silver curls. Her eyes are closed, fingers moving deftly along the instrument as she sings, softly at first, then with increasing emotion: “Here we are at the end, here we are, no regrets, just gotta take that one last step off the edge.” Above her, the stained-glass beckons, a reminder of things beyond the chapel space.

Jane Lewis Piano

The singer in the video is Jane Lewis ’90, and the song, Carry You Home, is dedicated to her late father, Paul, a teacher, coach and historian whose name many Ridleians will recognize. For the daughter of two long-time faculty members—her mother, Janet was the first housemaster of Dean’s house the year girls started boarding and eventual Assistant Head of Upper School—it was the perfect place to be. “I started writing it when he was sick, and we knew his time was limited,” Jane responds, when asked about the song. “It was really special to be able to film it in the chapel.”

The girl who once wrote poetry and was one of Ridley’s first environmental activists is now a musician based in Guelph, Ontario. Her passionate vocals and piano accompaniment have been compared to legendary singer Carole King, her songs described as “intelligent, poetic and cinematic.” (You’ll want to get to know her playful Beatles cover of Come Together—it won the Independent Music Award for Best Cover Song in 2015.)

All That's Real Album

“It might not be the way you initially imagined, but if you have a passion for something, if it’s authentic to you, you’ll find a way to manifest it.”

Speaking to her, it’s easy to see why. She’s thoughtful, reflective, empathetic—and if you read through the yearbooks, you’ll see that early writer’s voice slowly take shape; listen to her lyrics now and you’ll still find those echoes. It’s unsurprising that she finds inspiration in confessional songwriters like James Taylor and Joni Mitchell, and perhaps even less so when she says she’ll often choose silence, as it gives space for the ideas to come. When she’s not busy writing, singing solo, or teaching vocals in the popular workshops she runs, Jane is half of award-winning folk duo Gathering Sparks. Their compelling new album, All That’s Real was just released this fall.

For Jane, the road to music was a winding one. A philosophy major in university, she was already working in publishing when the opportunities to perform started popping up. And, by 2009, Jane found herself wandering a different, surprisingly natural path—“a decision that came out of what was already happening,” she eloquently puts it.

As someone who herself was at first shy to perform, Jane kept hearing from people who wished they could sing. She soon realized she could fill a need. “If you don’t go to church or aren’t a musician yourself, if you don’t have a family that sits around the piano, then where’s your outlet for singing?” she asks.

Jane founded All Together Now, a singing workshop series in Guelph. There’s no pressure to attend, no public performance; it’s simply about being in the moment, about embodying music. “It can be a powerful thing to get in touch with your voice, or the reason you’ve felt blocked,” she says. “But to share your authentic voice as a human being can be an act of courage. That really motivated me.” For some, these workshops have become a place where they learn to use that voice; for others, it’s a place to stop in and just let it all out. “I’ve had people say this is better than therapy,” she laughs. “And cheaper.”

Jane is also co-founder of the Women’s Music Weekend, an annual retreat where women of all musical abilities can perform in a supportive, inclusive community. There are powerful moments at these events, moments where a woman gains confidence, where she feels brave enough to step out front and sing on her own.

Jane Lewis Headshot

“It can be a powerful thing to get in touch with your voice, or the reason you’ve felt blocked. But to share your authentic voice as a human being can be an act of courage.”

The Women’s Music Weekend also has a bursary programme, now in its third season, where women can apply for financial aid. Having herself received assistance for a workshop she’d once found challenging to attend, the musician quickly saw an opportunity to pay it forward. “That definitely ties back to my time at Ridley,” she recognizes. “The motto, ‘may I be consumed in service’—that’s important.”

Ridley feels those ties pulling right back. Last year, Gathering Sparks performed as part of an artistic lineup at the Toronto Branch Reception at the AGO. “It was a celebration of the arts,” remembers Jane, “and felt like a recognition that this is an important career path a lot of people are taking.”  

When asked what advice she has for Ridley’s budding musicians, she takes a moment to reflect. On where she came from. On the work she puts in now. On the new album that’s taken years to come together—and the recognition that’s already trickling in. “It might not be the way you initially imagined,” she muses, “but if you have a passion for something, if it’s authentic to you, you’ll find a way to manifest it.”

And, if she’s learned anything, it’s that you never know what’s next. Looking back at the road which led her to this point, in some ways not where she thought she’d be, in others right back here at home, Jane seems content.

“Maybe the road is still winding.”


This article was printed in the latest issue of Tiger magazine. Learn about our alumni, get community updates and find out where Ridley is heading next! Read more from our winter issue.