Remembering George Peequaquat

George Peequaquat

I met George one afternoon in June 2025. It was from a referral I received about an elderly indigenous man who love to talk and share stories. “He has a lived a life” they said, “maybe the two of you can tell his story.”

As I usually do as writer-in-residence when meeting a patient for the first time, I introduced myself and told George the range of things I did at the hospital: everything from getting patients a crossword or word search book, all the way to helping people who want to write their entire story. “Oh, he said, “Have I got stories. I've done so many things, been so many places.” I told him, in situations like his (George had limited movement), I record peoples’ stories and then use an app to transcribe the full recording word for word. I then do some editing for punctuation and comprehension and then deliver their story almost word for word back to them in hard copy or digitally or both.

"The land was given to us to take care of and for future generations. Pass to the future; to move on. So that we not only keep it going, but to revive nature and its way of force."

George Peequaquat

George had a constant, easy smile and was always ready for a laugh or a joke – often with a little wink or by raising his arm in my direction as if to say, “that was a joke, there” with a little mischievous grin. His long, gray hair went well past his shoulders to the middle of his back. He appeared much younger than his 82 years. Most of all it was his eyes that I found remarkable. They were clear, brown, and large; bright and true. They looked at you hard and kept your gaze.

Chief Yellow Quill

Days of story-sharing and laughter, questions (mine) and answers (his), revealed a passionate man who had a deep desire to keep up the fight. He was full of fire for the urgent need to protect the land and treaties and he firmly believed that by nurturing one you were nurturing the other. He understood the fundamental truths of the treaties – what was in them and why they were created – and his knowledge and passion for the treaties was profound. This is only natural as he is descended from one of the central authors and signatories of Treaty 1 and Treaty 4, Chief Yellow Quill, after whom the Yellow Quill First Nation is named.

I used to look at these little old ladies a hundred years old. Somebody would come to them, “I'm sick” you know? And, and those old ladies didn't need a computer to tell you. The old ladies would give you a brown paper bag with roots in it. "This is what you need." They said. "This is how much you need.” George Peequaquat

George’s main theme in speaking about the treaties was that they were not being honoured in the spirit in which they were intended. Namely, that a respect for the land does not merely mean a respect for borders or properties, but a deep love and respect for every tree, rock, lake, river, animal, plant that makes up our Mother Earth. George recounted to me at length about the deep knowledge of natural medicines his ancestors possessed and how they had passed that knowledge onto him and his siblings. Because of this, he felt he had a more profound understanding of medicine from both a modern and traditional perspective. He had an innate distrust for modern medicine but also a fascination for how modern and traditional medicines intersect and interact.

George knew his time on Turtle Island was becoming ever shorter, and he felt an urgent need to continue to share and recount his own experiences and feelings and pass them on to next generations, not just Indigenous communities but everyone. He knew that we were all deeply linked and that only by unifying our struggles to nurture and honour the true intent of the treaties were we ever going to save our planet.

George passed away peacefully in the palliative care unit at St. Paul's hospital on December 20th, 2025. He will be deeply missed, of course by his immediate family and the communities which of which he was such an important part, but also by all of us and Mother Earth herself.