> http://www.dadsindistress.asn.au/stories_andrew.html
> In loving memory of Andrew T. Renouf
> May he rest In peace

> Andrew T. Renouf committed suicide on or about October 17, 1995 because he
> had 100% of his wages taken by the Family Responsibility Office, an agency
> of the Government of Ontario, Canada. He asked for assistance for food and
> shelter from the welfare office and was refused because he had a job, even
> though all of his wages were taken by the Family Responsibility Office. Andy
> was a loving father that hadn't seen his daughter in 4 years.

> A memorial service was held in October, 1998, for Andy in front of the
> Family Responsibility Office at 1201 Wilson Avenue, West Tower, Toronto,
> Ontario, Canada. This is in the Ministry of Transportation grounds in the
> Keele St. & Hwy 401 area. All members of the Ontario Legislature were
> invited by personal letter faxed to their offices. Not one turned up. The
> Director of the Family Responsibility Office and his entire staff were
> invited to the brief service. The Director refused and wouldn't let the
> staff attend the service although it was scheduled for lunch time. There was
> a peaceful demonstration by followed by a very touching service by The
> Reverend Alan Stewart. The text of the service will soon be able to be read
> below.

> Although the memorial service was not well publicized, a small group
> attended with 84 letters and emails of support from groups across Canada and
> the United States. The service made the TV evening news.

> It was Andy's last wish that his story be told to all.

> An annual memorial service is planned for October 17th.

> Suicide Letter of Andrew Renoufwww.fact.on.ca/renouf/r_letter.htm

> Note: The Family Responsibility Office was formerly the Family Support Plan

> A.T. Renouf
> 16-October-1995

> To Whom It May Concern

> Last friday (13-October) my bank account was garnisheed. I was left with a
> total of $00.43 in the bank.

> At this time I have rent and bill's to pay which would come to somewhere
> approaching $1500.00 to $1800.00.

> Since my last pay was also direct deposited on friday I now have no way of
> supporting myself. I have no money for food or for gas for my car to enable
> me to work. My employer also tells me that they will only pay me by direct
> deposit. I therefore no longer have a job, since the money would not reach
> me.

> I have tried talking to the Family Support people at 1916 Dundas St. E.
> their answer was:-" we have a court order." repeated several times.

> I have tried talking to the welfare people in Markham. Since I earned over
> $520.00 last month I am not eligible for assistance.

> I have had no contact with my daughter in approx. 4 year's. I do not even
> know if she is alive and well. I have tried to keep her informed of my
> current telephone number but she has never bothered to call.

> I have no family and no friend's, very little food, no viable job and very
> poor future prospects. I have therefore decided that there is no further
> point in continuing my life. It is my intention to drive to a secluded area,
> near my home, feed the car exhaust into the car, take some sleeping pills
> and use the remaining gas in the car to end my life.

> I would have prefered to die with more dignity.

> It is my last will and testament that this letter be published for all to
> see and read.

> Signed
> A.T. Renouf

> A Suicide Remembered
> Speech by The Reverend Alan Stewart.www.fact.on.ca/renouf/speech.htm

> The letter that Andrew Renouf left before he ended his life on October 17,
> 1995, was addressed: "To Whom It May Concern". We gather here today, whether
> we knew him or not, because we are concerned, deeply concerned about the
> pain he experienced and the issues that he brought to our attention as women
> and men in a civilized society.

> We want to make sense out of his death.

> We want to learn from his experience.

> We want to receive his last will and testament, his legacy, as he asked.

> We are attempting today to hear his cry, to learn and self-examine ourselves
> from his scream, which in this letter he made as loudly, as clearly, as
> emphatically as possible. He used his whole life to propel these words into
> our consciousness and into the fabric of our society. As his letter was his
> last will and testament, for all concerned, we are extending his legacy
> today by sharing his inheritance as he passed it on, in this letter.

> As Andrew was a man, I will speak first about what the letter may point to
> in terms of those of us who are men; what we can glean from Andrew; what is
> his legacy for us?

> In this letter, we are either Andrew, or there is an Andrew who is our
> acquaintance, our friend, our brother, our co-worker. We are reminded that
> four times as many men kill themselves as do women.

> The trigger that seemed to set this death on its course was that Andrew had
> no money. Do we measure a man by how much money he has in his pocket or his
> bank account? The first thing that he mentions in his letter is the 43 cents
> in his account. He obviously felt that 43 cents pointed to his
> worthlessness, the 43 cents was a metaphor for how he felt and how much he
> was valued on the open market. Andrew had no connection to the amount of
> money that was garnisheed. He had no connection to the value of the money
> that he had actually earned the previous month. His value was focused on the
> 43 cents that was left to keep his account open.

> Andrew was a man who did not have a place to take his pain. He says that he
> has no family, no friends. In the years that he lived on this planet, why
> did he not have any friends? Why did he feel there was nobody to call? Why
> was there no man or woman he knew personally that he could reach out to and
> that they would grab his hand? Why was there no brother-in-law, no buddy
> from work, no friend of a friend, no clergy? Why was there no "best friend"?

> To respond to Andrew's letter, we men have to ask ourselves if, along the
> journey of our lives, we have been investing in relationships to help us
> live our lives. Are we cultivating, investing and risking to have good
> friends? Do we make excuses that we are too busy? Are we sabotaging our own
> lives by living in isolation from our brothers and sisters in our own
> communities or families? Are we in a life-long process of estrangement?

> Do we hide our pain? The name 'Andrew' means "manly" or "strong". Does our
> notion of strength mean to go it alone, to be silent, reserved, to hide our
> feelings and pretend that we are in control and that everything is OK when
> it most definitely is not OK? When somebody asks us how we are, do we lie to
> them and say that we are fine? Do we hide our feelings under the pretence
> that other people do not want to know? Do we blame the unwitting for our
> lack of self-expression? Are we hostage to what we think that other people
> think of us?

> Do we cultivate safe places, safe times, and safe people where we can really
> be who we are? Can we ever give ourselves permission to be vulnerable? Have
> we found someone we can trust with our secrets?

> Andrew's letter says that estrangement, going it alone and hiding pain,
> spells d-e-a-t-h.

> In his pain, Andrew chose to end his life. We who gather here without that
> pain can say that there were other choices he could have made. He could have
> told a police officer or clergyperson that he was suicidal, or walked into
> an emergencyward of a hospital. Strong men are not supposed to say, "I need
> help. I am scared. I feel like killing myself. Help me!" This is a lie! Our
> choices determine our life or our death. As men we are free to ' choose to
> get the help that we need to get through our difficult times and live our
> lives.

> What does this letter say to women?

> The loudest message that this letter says to me in regards to women is that
> "men feel". Men do feel. We may teach men not to show their feelings, but
> men can and do feel as deeply and as profoundly as any woman.

> Andrew mentions that he has not seen his daughter in approximately four
> years. While I am not privy to the intimacy issues of the Renouf family, I
> can say that fathers naturally tend to love their children. A mother's or
> father's relationship with their child is separately authentic from their
> relationship with each other.

> I can say that children need the love of both their father and their mother.
> The access that mother and father have with their children, aside from
> obvious abuse, should not be determined by the issues that the mother and
> the father have with each other. Each parent can say that we are having
> problems with each other, but we both love you very much. We know that
> children feel guilty about a marriage break-up and they need to know that
> both parents love them. It takes years to recover from taking sides, and
> that same taking sides sabotages future relationships when those children
> become adults.

> Society says chat men are producers; they bring home the bread. Andrew's
> letter screams to us that he cannot produce without limit.

> There is a limit to what a man can produce.

> There is a limit to what a man can take.

> If we, as a society, teach boys that to be a man is to control, and then, as
> in Andrew's case, we take all of that control away to the point that the
> only way for him to keep any control is to stop the wage garnishee, then by
> definition, we oblige him to make that choice.

> Andrew mentions two government agencies: Family Support Services and
> Welfare. One garnishees his wages, the other tells him that he still really
> has the money the other agency took away. It is the classic case of the
> right hand not letting the left hand know what it is doing. What this did to
> Andrew is profoundly heinous in an age of computerisation, fax machines and
> telephones.

> For Welfare to say that he made more than $520 the month before is not true.
> It is a lie.

> Not only is it a lie, but the Family Support agency had all the
> documentation to prove to the Welfare people that Andrew Renouf did not have
> any of the money he had worked for during the previous month. The Family
> Support Services, in reality, did not support the Renouf family. The
> policies of the Welfare Office and the Family Support agency were
> contributing factors in the destruction of the Renouf family.

> Fathers are part of the family unit.

> Husbands are part of the family unit.

> You may listen to what I am saying and say that there are many issues here:
> the issue of child support
> the issue of gender discrimination
> the issue of alimony
> marriage breakdown
> What I would like to say to you is that there are no such things as issues,
> there are only people, flesh and blood men, women, and children. If our
> attitudes and agencies do not work to support the health of women and men
> and children, then we must change and adapt our attitudes and agencies so
> that they do help all people.

> The terrible reality of this story is that everyone lost.
> a daughter lost her father
> an ex-wife lost her support
> society lost a good and productive member
> and Andrew lost the most precious thing: his life.
> Surely a system that makes everyone a loser has got to be wrong.

> The most radical thing I have to say is that the solutions to life's
> difficulties need a partnership that includes both men and women. We need
> both sides to achieve the full equation and we need to have the same rules
> and the same attitudes for both men and women.

> There is a place in Los Angeles where there is a small mountain in the
> middle of an urban area. There used to be an observatory there before the
> city lights made it impossible to see the stars. It is a place where lovers
> go to park. It is also a place where people go to commit suicide.

> One evening, a police car drove up the winding road, just to see a young man
> climbing over the rail to jump off and commit suicide. The first policeman
> dashed to grab him, but he was too late to get a good hold on him and keep
> his balance without falling over the cliff himself. There was a moment when
> it looked like both of them were going to fall to their deaths. By then, the
> second policeman was able to get around the car and grab the first policeman
> and pull them both to safety.

> The ftrst policeman was nearly killed. He was later asked, "Why did you do
> this? Why did you risk you life, your future, losing your family and
> everything for a total stranger, a man you didn't even know?" He replied
> that when he touched him, he "became" the other man. To let go and let him
> die would have been like losing himself. He would not have been able to face
> himself the next day. He became the other man.

> So, we are more than our brother's keeper. We are our brother; our brother's
> and our sister's welfare is directly linked to our own. When Andrew died,
> part of us died with him, men and women alike.

> May God give us the grace to reach out in compassion for each other, to
> attend to each other's pain, that we might all live in mutual trust, esteem
> and love.

> --