On Friday, I reunited with my previous coworkers at Winnipeg City Hall to honor Councillor Jason Schreyer. That gathering wasn’t driven by political motives; instead, it was fueled by respect, grief, and appreciation for an individual who embodied public service through subtle fortitude and sincere concern.
At Jason’s council seat, the City of Winnipeg flag alongside a rose and his photograph served as poignant reminders of his absence. Earlier in the week, the council had temporarily halted proceedings upon hearing about Jason’s unexpected passing. When they reconvened on Friday, Mayor Gilligham and Councillor Devi Sharma proposed a statement expressing their condolences. This was followed by numerous heartfelt anecdotes that vividly recalled who Jason truly was for all present.
Jason and I haven’t consistently shared the same views when voting. Others may consider us as being at opposing poles politically speaking. However, this wasn’t significant. The crucial aspect was our mutual regard for one another. We engaged in debates about policies and yet managed to share a chuckle shortly after. There were times where we backed similar proposals and discovered overlapping positions more frequently than people generally assume.
I recall Jason in the council stating, “I find myself agreeing with Councillor Klein once more.” This statement reflected his typical considerate approach, which was always genuine. Such was Jason; he did not concern himself with where an idea originated—from the right or the left—so long as it made logical sense and benefited individuals.
That’s rare in politics.
Jason possessed a keen intellect. He effortlessly recited historical events, economic theories, and even Winnipeg’s legal framework all at once. Yet, what truly set him apart was his compassion. He genuinely cared for those he represented, his colleagues, and adhering to ethical standards. Jason did not seek media attention nor conform to prevailing sentiments; instead, he acted based on personal values rather than public opinion polls.
The tributes delivered by city councillors on Friday were deeply moving. As Councillor Eadie recalled his closest companion, his voice faltered with emotion. During our embrace, I sensed the depth of his sorrow. This wasn’t about politics; it was profoundly personal and genuine. Councillors Rollins, Santos, Eadie, and Allard paid tribute to Jason in a manner they knew he’d have cherished most—by singing together.
Mayor Gillingham along with Council members Sharma, Chambers, Mayes, Lukes, and Wyatt each recounted anecdotes—ranging from light-hearted to deeply moving—that highlighted Jason’s influence both as a coworker and an individual. Jason possessed the remarkable ability to make others feel understood. Amidst the cacophony of everyday life, he paid attention. Within a corporate environment often driven by metrics, his genuineness stood out.
I didn’t simply lose a coworker—I lost someone I could rely on, someone with whom I could engage in constructive debates free from animosity, and someone always mindful of the broader perspective. He made me realize that politics doesn’t need to be an arena where egos clash; instead, it can serve as a space for cooperation, modesty, and indeed, genuine friendships.
To Jason Schreyer, I would like to express the following:
You acted with honesty. You demonstrated that having principles does not equate to inflexibility. You made me realize that showing respect doesn’t necessitate agreeing all the time, and that empathy can thrive in political spheres. Winnipeg has flourished due to your presence; I am improved from knowing you. Thanks for staying true. Thanks for your service.
Jason Schreyer didn’t require attention. His actions spoke louder than any spotlight could have. It’s now our responsibility to follow his lead—not only in our discussions but also in the way we interact with one another.
That’s the heritage worth recalling.
