Remembering Sean Abbott: Montrealers share memories of 'the king of NDG'

A clothing drive in memory of Sean Abbott NDG residents held a clothing drive Sunday in honour of Sean Abbott, a homeless man who died in late September

An energetic team of volunteers filled the back room of a Montreal church Sunday, dumping out large plastic bags onto long wooden tables covered with second-hand sweaters and warm jackets.

The group was led by Kristen Goodall. She directed how it should all be sorted -- hats and gloves here, kid’s stuff there. The walls were lined with categorized items in a growing collection including clothing, toothbrushes, and even winter gear for dogs.

She called on neighbours to bring “anything that you would want to wear if you were living on the sidewalk in February." Once everything is sorted, the clothing will be sent to shelters and used by people living rough in the city.

Goodall organized the drive as a tribute to the late Sean Abbott, as many in Montreal's Notre-Dame-de-Grace neighbourhood are mourning his death. Around the corner from the church, at the busy intersection of Wilson and Sherbrooke, a tree is decorated with flowers and pictures in his memory.

Abbott, who spent much of his life homeless, was beloved among locals. He was known by many as “the king of NDG,” and for reasons that remain unclear, he died suddenly in late September. He was 38.

'THESE GIFTS'

“You all gave back to me something I had lost. You gave back to me my happiness, my feeling of worth, you gave me back my smile, and ever so rare, the feeling of warmth.”

Those were, in a sense, Abbott’s final words.

His mother, Marie Abbott, read them aloud during a grassroots vigil in a neighbourhood park one recent Saturday, surrounded by neighbours, family and friends.

About 100 people had gathered near the flowerbeds at Parc Girouard that night -- people of all ages, many with stories to share about Abbott.

She had written the short speech herself on a small piece of paper, which she held during the evening memorial. She said the words came to her as if Sean told her what to say.

“These gifts, my soul to carry on, my journey to eternity.”

News of his death spread quickly through the neighbourhood. For many at the vigil, Abbott had been a constant presence.

Since his family moved to the area four years ago, he had glued himself to the intersection of Sherbrooke and Wilson. On most days, he would sit outside the Dollarama there, keeping his post beside a sidewalk tree, or bunking in an alcove next to the nearby post office.

Residents in the area said Abbott was magnetic. He was extremely social and kind, neighbours said, and that it was rare that he would forget someone’s name. Smiling, waving, and checking in: that was Sean.

“You would sometimes see a line of people waiting to chat with him,” said Saskia Thibodeau.

Thibodeau lives near Abbott’s home-intersection and spoke to him nearly every day. They became close friends -- close enough that she knew his shoe size. Her brother and husband could wear the same pair, and have. Abbott borrowed a few articles of clothing over the years.

Some of those items might have been in the bundle Thibodeau returned to Abbott’s mother after he died. She and a friend went to his post-office bed to pick it up, and brought it to Marie’s doorstep, just a few blocks away.

After years of knowing Abbott, that was the first time she met his mother, and it was during that visit that Marie learned her son was so widely loved.

Marie didn’t have easy access to the Internet, and hadn’t seen the outpouring of personal stories that neighbours had shared online following her son’s death. Local channels on social media were flooded with kind words.

“We showed her,” said Thibodeau. “She was so overwhelmed.”

Of course, Marie wasn’t totally in the dark about Sean’s relationships. She lives in a small apartment, but Sean would stay over often, especially to escape the rain. During his stays, he told his mother about the people he met, and the friends he caught up with.

Marie said those friends ought to understand just how much they meant to Sean who, for years, had searched for a community.

BECOMING ‘FOGHORN’

“He was a good boy,” said Marie, who said Sean was “shy, and self-conscious” as a child, and curious about the world around him.

“We’d sit on the grass by a tree in the summer,” Marie recounted. “I would say, ‘Touch the tree. Look how intricate it is’.” He would, she said.

Before Sean’s father passed, they lived together in a downtown apartment. Marie says the building was rough, and that it wasn’t uncommon to see police officers roaming the halls.

“It’s unbelievable how they can get so many police into one black van,” she said. “It’s like a clown car.”

When Sean grew older, Marie says he would have to go out of his way to avoid conflict with neighbours. When he got older, he decided to avoid the building, and downtown Montreal, altogether.

“Sometimes, he would sleep in the forest,” said Marie. She says Abbott found a group of others living outside amongst the trees covering Mount Royal. It was in those woods that he got the nickname “Foghorn.”

At least, that’s what Marie suspects. Some of his friends have other hypotheses – it’s possible he picked up the name during a pro-wrestling stint south of the border.

Eventually, the family had to move. She says the landlord wanted to raise the rent out of reach. Marie found a small apartment in NDG, and Sean pitched himself on Sherbrooke. He brought the nickname with him.

AT THE TOP AND THE BOTTOM, AT THE SAME TIME

“He wanted to win. He wanted glory,” said Michelle Jette, who described herself as “technically” Sean’s neighbour. She organized the candlelit vigil, where Marie delivered her speech.

“But it was ripped from him.”

Jette lives near to where Sean had set himself up in front of the dollar store. When she moved to the area three years ago, the two would exchange words when she shopped. One thing led to another, and the two became close friends.

Sean told her stories of violence in his past, substance abuse, and the one time he got “screwed over” in his attempts to build a career in professional wrestling.

“He would look at himself and say, ‘Where did I go wrong?’” she said. “He felt like he was at the top of the world and the bottom at the same time.”

“They gave him the name ‘The King of NDG’, but sometimes he didn’t feel like a king. That’s for sure.”

Sean’s hunger for pro wrestling was bottomless. He and Marie spent hours together watching it on TV together. Many of the handful of images Sean posted online of himself feature a pose with a bulky WWE belt. Characters like Paul Heyman and Chris Jericho were household names for Sean. Marie, on the other hand, wasn’t one for the details.

“He would give me a play-by-play commentary as they were wrestling. My head would be starting to tilt down there, and slumber,” she said, laughing.

Nearly everyone who spoke with CTV News about Abbott recounted cherished memories with him -- episodes of kindness and compassion. For Marie, there are moments of tenderness, imagination, and forgiveness. The two didn’t always get along, but had ways of getting through disagreements in ways only they could share.

“I still I still talk to him, you know. I say, ‘if you come home now. I'll buy you a nice supper.’ And if there was wrestling on, ‘Oh, we will watch wrestling tonight’.”

LAST WORDS

The afternoon after the candlelit vigil, NDG residents gathered again on Sherbrooke to put offerings at the tree which, after years of his hanging out nearby, had become known affectionately as Sean’s tree.

The base and trunk was covered with flowers and small notes from people saying goodbye to the “champ,” as one note read, or “rockstar.” Marie was there, and people lined up to meet her and pay their respects.

“You have to be as strong as an oak tree, and not fold like an accordion.”

That’s one thing he told Stephanie Dale, who was also at the tree that day. It was the place she first met him back in the summer of 2020. Soon, talking to Sean was regular. “I could tell he brought joy to a lot of people’s lives,” said Dale. “I could tell that he really cared for everyone.”

Weeks after the vigil, the tree is still decorated in gifts and flowers. Even as the neighbourhood adjusts to life without Sean, residents say, his memory is very much alive there.

“That's actually one of the last conversations I had with him,” said Saskia Thibodeau, who brought Marie the bundle of clothing. “He was making comparisons between himself and his tree.”

“He was saying that the only thing they don't have in common is that he doesn't have roots,” she said.

“And then, he thought about it some more, and said, ‘but I guess you could say I do have roots in NDG’.”

EDITOR'S NOTE -- The main clothing drive organized in memory of Abbott wrapped up at 5 p.m. on Sunday, but people who would like to donate clothes can still email [e-mail] to organize a pickup.