Part 4. Glen Davis : Before the Crash

Glen was brought up in the lap of luxury. His parents’ 29-room mansion in an exclusive enclave in North Toronto came complete with servants and Rolls-Royces. It wasn’t necessarily a childhood filled with love and affection: his father Nelson Davis, rumored to be so obsessive-compulsive that he paved the driveway with specially imported dust-free stones, to make sure no dirt was tracked into the house.

When it came to University, Glen decided on political science. But rather than attend the pre-eminent academic institution — University of Toronto — he went 2 hours away to University of Western Ontario in London Ontario.

He loved sports and was a standout member of the school’s swim team. Although athletic, Glen Davis was neither Adonis nor fashion conscious: his ruddy rubbery face half hidden under his trademark Tilly hat, he was happiest in the hiking gear that went with his interest in the wilderness and conservation. Differentiating from — some might say rebelling against — his father’s button-down businessman style, Glen preferred brush cuts to slicked-back, perfectly-in-place hair.

At University, he forged life-long friendships, and met his wife. Originally from a small town, Mary Alice Setterington and Davis met when she was working for the Dean of Women. She was the first woman Davis ever invited home. They married in 1965 in a small civil ceremony and headed to Winnipeg, where he taught political science at the University of Manitoba, and coached the women’s swim team.

Glen may have hoped to stay in a smaller town and escape the inevitable — taking over his father’s business — but when the call came, he answered. It was for a very specific task, possibly Davis senior’s way of testing his son’s mettle: giving a pink slip to a long-standing member of his father’s executive team. Tough as job as that could be, it was made tougher by the fact that it was Glen’s uncle, Marsh Davis.

For decades, Marsh Davis headed up one of the businesses in N.M. Davis enterprises: trucking. So knowledgeable and respected in the industry was he that a report he was commissioned to write became the seminal paper of the state of trucking at the time. But the times were changing, and trucking was about to be regulated: it was time for fresh blood. Glen’s assignment can’t have been a pleasant one to fulfill: ‘resign’ his uncle.

Then, in 1979, Glen’s father — age 72 — died, reportedly of a heart attack. He was found floating in the pool in his Arizona mansion. Glen became The Boss, and set about changing the atmosphere. For example, where his father had been meticulous in every respect, one of the first things Glen did was bring down the ‘formal dress’ protocol set by his father, telling Keith Jones — the man who would now be Glen’s personal chauffeur — to take off that cap and uniform. Not needed any more.

All told, Glen Davis was genuinely and universally liked. His goofy extroversion masked a shy awkwardness, his unpretentious ways belied his great wealth.

Next: The Crash that changed everything

The Will: murderer in my boardroom. A true story of the rich and resentful. https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0BMWKBS4