08/08/2026
Harvey Goering - A Tribute Submitted by Charles Cameron
(Celebration details below)
There came to our hall one autumn eve, With a smile that was gentle and bright,
An old friend back from the trails of life, To dance ’neath the Friday night light.
His hair was silver, his step was slow, Yet a sparkle shone in his eye—
For Harvey Goering had come once more, With a heart that was willing to try.
He wasn’t chasing a ribbon fair, Nor striving for trophies won;
He’d come for the laughter, the clasp of hands, And the joy when the music’s begun.
He answered the calls with a careful grace, As steady as any could be;
For the measure of youth is not counted in years, But the spirit that dances free.
Then came his ninetieth birthday day, And the hall gave a mighty cheer;
A handsome Scroll was placed in his hands, With friends both far and near.
He held it high with a boyish pride, His smile as broad as the dawn;
You’d never have guessed by the gleam in his eyes How swiftly the years had gone.
But Harvey was not one to rest On honours already won.
He worked through the Basics, one call at a time, Till the lessons were finally done.
Then came Graduation, Scroll in hand, With five companions beside;
And never was parchment more proudly held Than his with its humble pride.
I’ve seen men boast of the wealth they’ve gained, Of medals and fortunes rare;
But Harvey’s riches were measured instead In the friendships gathered there.
A smile, a laugh, a willing hand, A spirit so honest and true—
Those are the treasures that time can’t steal,
Though the years may number a few. Now the music has faded, the hall is still,
And another chair stands bare; Yet many a dancer will pause and smile,
As though they still see him there. For a gentleman’s worth is not told by his age,
Nor counted by days gone by; It’s written in hearts that remember his name
When the final sets draw nigh.
So here’s to Harvey Goering, friends, May his memory ever remain;
For he danced through life with courage and grace, Through sunshine and through rain.
And somewhere beyond where the fiddles play, Where the grand old dancers belong,
I like to think he’s taking his place, Still stepping in time to the song.
https://passages.winnipegfreepress.com/passage-details/id-338146/GOEHRING_HARVEY