Courtesy of family
The illness and death of her first child devastated Tannis Richardson. She endured years of feeling helpless as her daughter grew up suffering from Type 1 diabetes in an era when far less was known about the disease.
Pamela Richardson died in 1980, six days before her 29th birthday. She had been diagnosed two decades earlier with what was then known as juvenile diabetes, and her family had never quite come to terms with the idea of an illness without a cure.
In those days, it was hard to find a Canadian physician who could provide insulin therapy, glucose monitoring or advice on how to cope nutritionally. Even though Mrs. Richardson was the daughter of an influential surgeon – Paul Thorlakson, one of the leading voices behind the creation of the Manitoba Medical Centre (now called the Health Sciences Centre), the province’s largest hospital – she felt powerless.
“Here I was, someone who should’ve been able to help my daughter, someone who was raised by a doctor, surrounded by doctors, and I had to look things up in the dictionary to find out anything about Type 1 diabetes. None of us knew anything,” she said in 2020 at the Winnipeg launch of her memoir, Vignettes from My Life.
Although they tried their best to live a normal life, Mrs. Richardson, her husband, George Taylor Richardson, their sons David and Hartley, and younger daughter, Karen, were all deeply affected by Pamela’s illness. The family tried to eat the same things as Pam (as they fondly called her): no gravy, no desserts, no separate meals that would have made her feel too different or alone.
Tannis M. Richardson with Hartley Richardson.Courtesy of family
As a teen, however, Pamela rebelled. She would say she was “going to die anyway,” Mrs. Richardson wrote in her book. Through her pain, Pamela resented being denied life’s simpler pleasures – the odd cheesecake, dollop of ice cream, some apple pie. “And I didn’t blame her,” Mrs. Richardson said, remembering the custom-made notepads she used to keep tabs on her blood-sugar levels. “It was all just so very rigid, so different than it would’ve been nowadays.”
Pamela’s health deteriorated; she became blind and was frequently hospitalized.
Near the end, doctors urged peritoneal dialysis, a procedure that involved placing a catheter in Pamela’s abdominal cavity so her body could filter toxins, as she suffered from kidney failure. Mrs. Richardson “just thought it was one more step” to make her daughter feel better.
“But [Pamela] rubbed her arm, and she said, ‘Mommy, I’ll never go on peritoneal dialysis,’” Mrs. Richardson recalled. Pamela died that night, on March 4, 1980.
The loss remained the greatest sorrow of Mrs. Richardson’s life, but she eventually turned her grief into motivation. She never wanted anyone else to go through what Pamela did.
For decades, the matriarch of one of Canada’s wealthiest and most influential families used philanthropy to propel research on Type 1 diabetes, along with many other causes that directly affected her community.
Tannis M. Richardson with her husband George Taylor Richardson.Courtesy of family
Manitoba, where the Richardsons have long been based, is now considered a leading jurisdiction for comprehensive diabetes equipment coverage – providing public, no-cost insulin pumps and glucose monitors to residents. Advocates in the sector, such as executives of Breakthrough T1D, say one of the main reasons for that advancement was Mrs. Richardson’s lasting support.
And after a lifetime of giving back and teaching others to do the same, on April 13, surrounded by her loved ones, Mrs. Richardson died at her home in Winnipeg. She was 99.
Born in Winnipeg on July 14, 1926, Tannis Maree Thorlakson was the youngest of three children of the former Gladys Maree Henry and Paul Henrik Thorbjorn Thorlakson. She grew up with her twin brothers, Thorbjorn Kenneth Thorlakson and Robert Henry Thorlakson.
Though her parents were part of Manitoba’s large community of Icelandic-Canadians, they called her Tannis – derived from the Cree term for daughter – because the name honoured the province’s significant Indigenous population and the family’s relationship with ancestral land.
She travelled across dozens of countries and lived in several cities, but always called Winnipeg her home.
After her early education at Winnipeg’s Queenston School, Tuxedo Public School and Gordon Bell High School, she enrolled at the University of Manitoba, where she graduated with a bachelor of science degree in 1948 from what was then the faculty of human ecology.
During the Second World War, while in university, she served as a voluntary aid nurse, putting in long hours for her patients. According to the Health Sciences Centre Foundation, food-service workers would observe the young nurse losing weight, often insisting that she sustain herself, too, as she saw to the needs of the ward.
Her university yearbook called her “a classic beauty,” noting her “pleasing, low-pitched voice, coupled with an equally enchanting personality.” It said she was a member of the Pi Beta Phi women’s fraternity and was a skilled horsewoman and enthusiastic skier.
Tannis M. Richardson with her husband George, in the 1970s.Courtesy of family
A few months after her graduation, the 22-year-old married Mr. Richardson, 24. He was the young scion of the family behind James Richardson & Sons Ltd., a grain and financial services empire founded in 1857, akin to royalty in Western Canada.
As Mr. Richardson rose through the ranks of the family business, Mrs. Richardson became a champion of the arts and health-related causes.
She held volunteer leadership positions and sat on numerous boards, including the Canadian Foundation for AIDS Research, Kidney Foundation of Canada, International Society for Heart Research, Ronald McDonald Children’s Charities, Winnipeg Symphony Orchestra, Winnipeg Art Gallery, Manitoba Opera Association, Rainbow Stage, Assiniboine Park, Chief Peguis Heritage Park and the Western Canada Aviation Museum.
Aynsley Cockshott, chair of the Winnipeg Art Gallery’s board, said one of Mrs. Richardson’s most important contributions was “dispelling the barrier” that many people might have felt about the Richardsons because of their stature.
She remembers Mrs. Richardson, with her signature blend of humour and humility, sharing an anecdote about a diabetes fundraiser. While she had already donated for the fundraiser, “she rolled up her sleeves to solicit more help from others, quite literally on the street,” Ms. Cockshott said.
“There, she met this elderly lady, who opened up her change purse and offered a dollar to Mrs. Richardson, saying, ‘I hope this helps, dear.’ I found that so special, how community-minded she was, but also how she never took herself too seriously.”
Governor-General Adrienne Clarkson, right, presents Tannis Richardson with the Order of Canada in October, 2004.JONATHAN HAYWARD/The Canadian Press
Winnipeg Mayor Scott Gillingham said Mrs. Richardson taught others that they can all be philanthropists, illustrating through her own example that it is not just about supporting causes financially. “It could be a gesture, a smile, or a kind word,” he said.
All of Manitoba is a better place because of her “momentous efforts,” Premier Wab Kinew said. “She showed what it means to turn privilege into purpose,” he said.
A few years after Pamela’s death, Mrs. Richardson created an annual gala called “A Starry Starry Night” with the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation Canada (now called Breakthrough T1D Canada), for which she established a Winnipeg chapter.
Over 35 years, the gala has generated more than $8-million in donations. Proceeds from Mrs. Richardson’s memoir were also donated to the charity.
When Jessica Diniz became president and chief executive of Breakthrough T1D Canada, she was daunted to meet Mrs. Richardson at her house.
“I’d made it there to Winnipeg from Toronto, and it was like having tea with royalty. But what I was not prepared for was just how much fun our conversation would be,” Ms. Diniz said.
“She worked so hard to see Manitoba offer the kind of diabetes coverage it now does. It took a lot of lobbying, a lot of advocacy, because this was a province that used to have one of the most [significant] gaps in coverage and now has the least. And I think Tannis would’ve liked to see all of Canada follow suit.”
Angela Birdsell, CEO of the Winnipeg Symphony Orchestra, said Mrs. Richardson’s help with the organization’s sistema program made it a world-class model for how to provide music lessons for inner-city students.
“Often, I think we view that older generation of philanthropists as, you know, just the wives of prominent people. But she – this feminist trailblazer – was so much more than that,” Ms. Birdsell said. “She was the embodiment of hope in our community.”
In 2003, in recognition of her extensive philanthropic work, she was named a member of the Order of Canada.
Mrs. Richardson did not let her age dictate her final years. Her grandson Thor Richardson, the current president of the family company, said that even at 99, as a lover of swimming, she wanted to attend her great-grandchildren’s lessons at the Winnipeg Winter Club. “She was so engaged, right up until her last day – what a way to live a life,” he said.
Both Thor and his father, Hartley, said it was Mrs. Richardson who taught past and present company executives how to use their most important asset: a good conversation.
“She was just as comfortable talking to a prime minister as somebody at a cafeteria,” Thor said. “It was this gift, this skill. At the dinners that I went to with her, when I was a kid, she’d constantly tell me that I wasn’t just there to eat. I was there to listen, to engage.”
Mrs. Richardson had a passion for taking photos and would light up a room as she joyously recited her favourite verse from Ulysses, the Alfred Tennyson poem: “Yet all experience is an arch wherethro’ / Gleams that untravell’d world whose margin fades / For ever and forever when I move.”
She loved the Winnipeg Symphony Orchestra so much that she was a patron and supporter for 78 years. The current symphony season was the first in all that time in which she, with her failing health, couldn’t go in person.
“So, what did we do? We brought it to her,” said the Winnipeg ensemble’s CEO, Ms. Birdsell.
A special matinée performance was arranged last October that was live-streamed to Mrs. Richardson’s living room, where she could comfortably watch and hear the show with her oxygen machine, alongside a small group of family members.
“From the time it started to the time it finished, my mother couldn’t get her smile off her face,” Hartley Richardson said. “She was so touched by the gesture.”
In addition to her daughter Pamela, Mrs. Richardson was predeceased by her younger daughter, Karen, who died suddenly in 2013; and her husband, George, who died the following year. She leaves her sons, David and Hartley; nine grandchildren and seven great-grandchildren.
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