Wow. Just heard from friends of friends of Ian ( or Gunns) as I called him. I knew Ian back in 81. He was 15 and I was 17. We hung out in my 74 Chevy Malibu coupe. Spent a few nights at his mom's house in False Creek on Lameys Mill Rd. As we got older our paths drifted apart and I asked if mutual friends knew what he was up to. Some said he moved to Australia. Life went on. I enquired again some years later. I believe he is a camera operator in the Movies. There was one incident that I remember well. We were hanging out in my Malibu with two other young ladies, can't remember who now and I stupidly said to Ian, hey look at this. We were driving past a park and I turned off the headlights and proceeded to drive on the field of a neighborhood park. Ian had no part in this besides being a passenger. Ian suddenly said, Uh, I think there's a wading pool nearby. I proceeded to drive off the field and got stuck in the process. The two ladies decided, now is a good time to disappear. Ian stick around trying to help out. I didn't ask him that's just the way he was. An undercover officer came running at us and when he found out it was just a young driver, (me) being stupid. He called for a tow truck took my info down. I was charged with mischief and while I pled guilty, I got a suspended sentence. The one fact I remember is Ian stick around to help a friend. That's just the way he was. He called his mom to come pick us up. She came and we both got lectured, I for being stupid and Ian something about making wiser choices with your friends. I deeply regret not connecting with him over the years. My condolences to his wife and children. Ian was one of a kind and if you got to know him you were blessed.

Ron Bjorndal 

For a Friend, Unfinished

Since ninety-six, when our paths first aligned,

Your laughter carved spaces in ordinary days.

Three decades of moments—some troubled, most kind—

Now echo in rooms where your absence stays.

Cancer took what time should have left intact:

More summers, more chances to mend what frayed.

The words unsaid form a solemn pact with memory’s cruel and tender trade.

I measure our friendship in cups of tea, in midnight drives and bottles of Coopers.

In discussions that ended too soon.

In photographs and knowing looks.

What remains unresolved hangs in the air,

Questions without answers, debts unpaid.

But grief is just love with nowhere to go—

A testament to all the ways you stayed.

They say death completes the story’s arc,

But yours feels like a sentence cut mid-word.

I search for endings in the dark

While holding truths we never heard.

Yet somehow, in this unfinished space,

I find the grace to let you rest.

Not every chapter needs its proper place

When love has already passed the test.

So here’s to you, my unfinished friend,

To conversations we can no longer have.

Some journeys weren’t meant to find their end—

Two souls brave enough to walk the path.

R

I don’t remember exactly when I first met Ian Gunns, but it feels like our paths crossed on almost every show I ever worked on. He was the kind of person who made you feel better just by being around him—a true gem. You could always count on Ian for a sarcastic wisecrack, a good laugh, a strong handshake, and a warm smile. The news today of his passing breaks my heart.

You’ll be missed, Ian. Rest In Peace.

I’ll see you on the next one