Obituaries
KOBY AIDEN SHUSTER September 29, 1989 – May 27, 2020
Koby was not your average human.
He was precocious, charismatic, genuine, articulate, caustic, determined. He could be sweet and caring. He could be provocative. He could be sly. As a child, he read early. He watched Fantasia religiously. He was a notorious mouth-open eater and an idiosyncratic toe-walker.
He began to play classical guitar when he was five years old, swiftly surpassing his father’s abilities. His phenomenal vocabulary emerged effortlessly and often baffled his peers. Later, when he studied Criminology at SFU, he would dissect slower students’ feeble arguments with ease. He would produce excellent work if he felt like it or subtly infuse an unappealing assignment with derisive humour. On the soccer field, he was a wrecking ball.
He loved his family and friends, and he especially treasured his grandparents, Lawrence and Eddy Werier, who encouraged him to colour outside the lines. When he wanted to accomplish something, however difficult, he found his focus. He claimed his Jewish heritage despite being born into a secular household. He decided that he would have a bar mitzvah and learned how to read the Hebrew alphabet in a week. During later travel in Israel, he felt that he had come home.
Koby kindled a deep relationship with music. He bewitched the bass guitar. He found kinship in artists who circumvent norms, from Tech N9ne to RATM (who he was so excited to see in concert again before Covid-19 hit) to Shuggie Otis to Run the Jewels. He held a deep abiding love for southern hip-hop. His band, Dust, enjoyed significant high school fame. Koby made many deep bonds with musicians of all backgrounds and had an uncanny ability to connect with and support others through music.
Koby was a sage of sorts. He would never mince words or participate in cheap generosity. His caring was raw and true. If he saw that you needed support, he would help, but if you were being overly dramatic, he had no sympathy for that. His challenging words were often an invitation to play or discover truth. In another time period he might have been a lauded orator or philosopher.
People were drawn to him. His presence had an orbit. Koby’s charisma was irresistible, and he loved to have a good time. He could get his way so naturally because his magnetism was bound with a respect for others’ boundaries. Despite his omnipresent independence, he could make others feel at ease with a caring look or an honest, incisive observation. He said what was needed in the moment, and he expected others to speak honestly to him. He was a secret-keeper for many people and held this position as a sacred trust.
Koby understood darkness, and it understood him. He experienced trauma from losing several beloved friends to addiction, which hardened him against himself and fueled his own substance abuse. He never recovered from the guilt of believing he was responsible, even though he wasn’t. He knew himself so well, and yet he was never able to forgive himself.
Koby suffered deeply but was too proud to accept help. His identity was bound up in making it without outside support. His web of mental health struggles grew over the years.
Sometimes when you tie a knot very tightly, you can’t untie it again.
Koby’s death was an accidental overdose. He was in his small apartment, in the bath. He loved to soak in the tub. He was sick of anxiety and tired of being afraid, but he didn’t want to die. He was a suffering guy who did some bad dope. It’s ironic that what got Koby in the end was the insidiousness of fentanyl.
It’s important to understand that Koby never gave up his honour. He put those close to him through heartache, but he was also very loyal and loving. In his last text to his Mom a few days before he died he told her he loved her. He did that all the time.
He made a point of not implicating others in his actions. He lived fast and with so much heart. He rejected dull moments. Some of his exploits had a legendary quality that only he was capable of generating. Those fortunate enough to be beneficiaries of his gifts in this life know how blessed they are.
He is survived by his mother Jodie Werier, father Michael Shuster, grandparents Lawrence and Eddy Werier, nanny and second mom Augustina (Olive) Johnpierre, Ziggy, the dog that made his eyes itchy, and his extended family of neighbours and friends on the block that he grew up on and beyond.
We don’t want flowers. They make us sneeze. Please contribute to a charity that supports mental health and addiction. They go hand in hand. And please take the time to know and love yourself enough that you can live how you want but also have the resolve to care well for yourself.
Obituaries
MILTON FREEDMAN
It is with profound sadness and much love that I announce the passing of Milton Freedman on October 30th, 2025, three months after we celebrated his 100th birthday. Milton was predeceased by his parents, Helen and Peter, his older brother Sam, and his younger brother Sid, with whom he shared a very special relationship. He is survived by his wife Joanie, his sister Ruby Donner, nieces and nephews, great nieces and great nephews, and a great-great nephew.
Family and friends meant everything to Milton, and there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for them. He was gentle and kind, quiet and dignified, thoughtful and wise. He gave the best advice, but only if asked.
Milton and I liked to travel, and for many years spent the winter in Palm Springs. We also travelled to Europe and England, and felt most at home in London. We reminisced endlessly about the river cruises we went on, and the amazing places we had the opportunity to visit, whether it was having dinner at a restaurant overlooking the North Sea, or attending a private concert at a palace in Vienna, or tasting Black Forest cake especially prepared for us, while we were in Germany’s Black Forest region. It all was stunning, magical, delicious. But it was the people we met along the way, who made everything even more special, and we never forgot them.
Milton was an avid reader, inhaling newspapers, magazines, and books as if they were oxygen. Remarkably, he remembered much of what he read, and it wasn’t unusual for him to quote a passage from a book that he had read years earlier, if it was relevant to a conversation. It was not to show off…that wasn’t who he was.
Milton was a runner, and for years ran ten miles, three times a week. On the days he didn’t run, he walked outdoors for two and a half hours. Eventually, he gave up running, preferring to walk seven days a week no matter the season, no matter the weather. This continued until he was well into his 80’s. And even in his 90’s Milton remained determined to walk, at first using one cane, then two, then a walker. When he was asked, how he did it, Milton simply said, “Just keep putting one foot in front of the other.” On occasion he might add, “And eventually you’ll get to where you’re going.”
Sage advice.
Milton is deeply missed, and will forever be remembered.
Obituaries
MARLI REBECCA SILVERMAN
Marli Rebecca Silverman passed away on March 11th at the age of 43 from end-stage renal disease. She lived her life with meaning, courage, and resilience, and touched everyone who knew her with her strength, warmth, and spirit.
She leaves behind her beloved daughter, Rylee, who was the light of her life; her father, Bruce; her brother, Matthew; Rylee’s father, Drake; and many family members and dear friends who will carry her memory forward with love.
Marli will be deeply missed and forever remembered for the impact she made on those around her.
May her memory be a blessing.
Donations in Marli’s memory may be made to Breakthrough T1D (breakthrought1d.ca).
Obituaries
EDWARD (BARNEY) SEGAL
With great sadness, we announce the passing of Edward “Barney” Segal on Tuesday, March 3, 2026, at the age of 70.
Barney will be deeply missed and lovingly remembered by his sister, Elaine (Paul) Olin; his nieces, nephews, and great-nieces and nephew: Jason Olin, Carrie Shenkarow, Jessica and Shirley Ransby; Brenlee, David, Hayley, and Leah Selchen; and Daniel, Jordi, Poppy, and Skylar Olin; Shannon Chisick-Harman, Charlie Harman; and many dear friends. He was predeceased by his beloved parents, Sam Segal (1998) and Louise Segal (2006), and by his sister, Dolly Chisick (December 2025).
Barney was born on April 27, 1955, in Winnipeg, where he lived his entire life. He spent his formative years on Lansdowne Avenue, a place that remained close to his heart and was filled with many fond memories throughout his life. Barney was the youngest of four children, and from an early age, he was a spirited and energetic presence, full of personality and spark.
Barney carried that same determination and energy into his adult life. With an unwavering work ethic, he pursued a career in education while working full-time, earning his degree from the University of Manitoba. He went on to dedicate many years to teaching and supporting schools throughout Winnipeg. Barney took great pride in helping students grow, always striving to make a lasting impression on the young people whose lives he touched.
He was fiercely loyal to his family, his friends, and the communities he served. Barney found joy in life’s simple and meaningful moments: cheering on the Chicago Bears, sharing vivid stories about his parents and days gone by, riding his motorcycle, and heading out on long road trips in his beloved Jeep, “Sparky,” always in search of the next good story.
Barney will be remembered for his strong spirit, his storytelling, his sense of humor, and the genuine care he showed to those around him. His presence filled a room, and his absence leaves a space that cannot be replaced. He will be deeply missed and forever remembered.
Funeral services were held on Friday, March 6, at Chesed Shel Emes, officiated by Rabbi Matthew Leibl. Pallbearers were Daniel Olin, Jason Olin, Laurie Gorenstein, Jeff Brown, Gavin Rich, and Mark Lomow. Honorary pallbearers were Brenlee Selchen, David Selchen, Shannon Chisick-Harman, Charlie Harman, Jordi Olin, Carrie Shenkarow, Rick Lousier, Ben Szymkow, Ron Nelson, Leroy Fox, Robert Marvin, and Gerry Dudley.
In memory of Barney, donations may be made to a charity of your choice.