The Heartbreaking Death of Terry Jacks and His Partner

Most people remember Terry Jax for one song. Fewer know the full story of the person who helped shape his career and the painful road both of them traveled long after the fame faded. What unfolded in their later years involved battles  most people fight privately away from the spotlight they once shared.

  Some of those battles they won, others they didn’t. And the loss that finally came  hit harder than anything a chart position could ever measure. the success that broke  them. Terry Jax grew up in Winnipeg, Manitoba as the oldest of five boys.  His father owned a successful architecture firm, so it seemed almost certain that Terry would follow the same path.

 He  even studied architecture at university. But deep down, music was always where his heart was. In the early 1960s,  his family moved across Canada to Vancouver. Even though his parents encouraged  him to become an architect, Terry had already made up his mind. He picked up a guitar and threw himself into music instead.

  By the age of 18, he had joined forces with guitarist Guy Soel to form a band called  The Chessman. The group quickly made a name for itself around Vancouver. Between 1964  and 1966, The Chessman landed four top 10  hits in the city, becoming one of the area’s most popular local acts.

 One moment from that era perfectly captured how  passionate their fans had become. During a Friday night back to school performance at Eaton’s department store  in Bernaby’s Brentwood Mall in September 1965, a group of students from Burnaby South Senior High, decided to put their favorite radio station  to the test.

 They were regular listeners of Sefun 1410 a.m. which  constantly promoted its request line. Unsure if anyone was actually paying attention,  the students flooded the phone lines, all requesting the B-side of the Chessman’s latest single. To their  surprise, it worked. The station began playing the song repeatedly, and before  long, the record had become a rare two-sided hit, all because a determined group of teenagers refused  to stop calling.

 As the mid 1960s rolled on, Terry continued building his reputation as both a singer and guitarist. Alongside performing in local clubs with The Chessman, he also appeared on CBC television’s Music Hop. That show would end up changing his life for reasons that had nothing to do with chart success.

 It was there that he met a young singer named Susan Pescovitz,  the woman who would eventually become both his musical partner and his wife. Susan’s journey had started years earlier in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, where she grew up in a family of eight children. Singing came naturally to her.  At just 7 years old, she was already performing live on a local radio station every Saturday afternoon.

 When she  was nine, her family relocated to Haney in British Columbia’s Fraser Valley. She continued singing in school and church choirs, and by the age of 14, she was already earning money as a professional performer, singing at Legion Hall dances for just $1 a night. Her talent kept opening bigger doors.

 At 15, she earned a place on the Let’s Go Review, part of CBC’s Music  Hop, a national music variety show inspired by Dick Clark’s American Band Stand. As a teenager, she became one of the show’s regular  performers, earning admiration from everyone who worked with her. Years later, broadcaster Terry David Mulligan remembered Susan as an exceptionally kind, talented, and humble person whose warmth  matched her remarkable voice.

 Then came 1966 when one unexpected phone call  changed everything. Susan needed a rhythm guitarist for a performance in Hope, British Columbia. She contacted every guitarist she knew,  but nobody was available. Eventually, someone suggested calling Terry Jax. His previous band had recently broken up, so there was a good chance  he was free. He was.

 That single performance marked the beginning of a partnership that would eventually become the Poppy family. Although Susan continued pursuing her solo career through television appearances and live  performances, she and Terry started playing together in coffee houses whenever  they could. By early 1967, they invited their friend Craig Macau to join them on lead guitar.

Around  that same time, Susan decided to fully commit to the new group. Their first name  was Powerline, but it never really felt like the right fit. Even so, the band continued performing throughout Vancouver  and steadily built a loyal following. Eventually, during a rehearsal break, they began searching magazines, newspapers,  and even dictionaries for inspiration.

While flipping through one dictionary, they came across an entry describing the poppy family as a varied species of flowering plant. The name immediately stood out. From that moment on, they became the Poppy family.  Later that year, after a brief romance, Terry and Susan got married and Susan Pesccoitz officially became Susan Jax.

 As 1968 arrived, the group expanded once again. Craig Macau had developed a fascination with East Indian music and was learning to play the seatar.  Through that interest, he met Satwant Singh, an accomplished tab player. Satwant [snorts] joined the group, completing a lineup unlike almost anything audiences had heard before.

 The Poppy family blended Susan’s emotional vocals,  Craig’s distinctive guitar work, and Satwan’s traditional Indian percussion into a  sound that felt fresh and completely original. It didn’t take long for the band to earn a reputation as one of Canada’s most  creative new acts. Ironically, despite the word family in their name, life behind the scenes was  anything but peaceful.

 Former band member Bruce McGra later recalled that rehearsals and  performances could become incredibly tense. Terry was known for demanding complete control over every aspect of the band,  and his perfectionism often created conflict. According to McGra, there were even times during the live shows when arguments between Terry and  Susan became so intense that Susan would throw down her tambourine, leave the stage in tears, and walk off mid-performance.

 Still,  the music never stopped. In 1968, Terry began focusing more heavily on songwriting,  and the group released its debut single, Beyond the Clouds, through London  Records. Early the following year, they followed it with What Can the Matter Be? Then everything changed. Later in 1969, the Poppy family released Which Way You Go in Billy? The song that would transform them from a successful Canadian band into international stars.

Even more remarkable  was how modest the recording process had been. The song was recorded in a small Vancouver  studio for only a few hundred. Hoping for a breakthrough in the United States, the band first shopped the recording around Los Angeles, searching for a major American record deal.  Every label passed.

Rather than giving up, they returned home, signed a full contract with London Records, and  released the song anyway. The story behind its title has remained the subject of debate ever since. The song was originally written during the Vietnam War era under the title Which Way You Go and Buddy and told the story from a man’s perspective.

It was later rewritten from the viewpoint of a woman whose partner had left her behind. The disagreement  centered on one simple question. Where did the name Billy come from? Susan maintained that she  suggested using the name of one of her six brothers. Terry strongly rejected that version of events.

  In an interview with Soan’s words and music magazine, he insisted the inspiration came from the Bmark song Billy Billy went a walking arguing that as the songwriter, he knew exactly how the title had come about. Whatever the true story was, the title became unforgettable. By the summer of 1970, the Poppy family received the biggest news of their careers in one  of the most unexpected ways imaginable.

While traveling through Los Angeles for an interview, Susan and the band were sitting in the back of a chauffeered car when the driver casually mentioned that which way you go and Billy had just sold 1 million copies. There was no official ceremony, no dramatic phone call, just a passing comment from someone behind the wheel.

 For a moment, Susan could hardly believe what she had heard. Then the reality finally  hit. The Little Band from Vancouver had officially reached the big leagues. Which Way You Going, Billy became the first record from Vancouver to sell more than 1 million copies. In the United States, it climbed all the way to number two  on the Billboard Hot 100, held back from the top spot only by Ray Stevens,  Everything Is Beautiful, and The Beatles, The Long and Winding Road.

 The success carried over into Canada’s Juno Awards, where the Poppy family dominated the ceremony, winning  best single, best middle-of the road album, best group performance, and outstanding sales. By the end of its run, the record had sold  well over 2.5 million copies worldwide.

 Although the song had become an international classic, it had gone through major changes before reaching listeners. Terry first wrote it as Which Way You Going, Buddy? From a man’s perspective. Susan believed the story would be even more powerful if  it were sung by a woman. Together, they reworked the lyrics and searched for the  right replacement for the word buddy, eventually settling on Billy.

Ironically, the song’s enormous success also  reshaped the band itself. After Billy became a worldwide hit, Terry dismissed  Satwant Sing and Craig Macau, reducing the Poppy family to just himself  and Susan. Even as a duo, they continued producing successful records,  including That’s Where I Went Wrong and Where Evil Grows.

 As demand for live performances increased, they hired additional touring musicians while continuing to record in the studio. The formula kept  working and they remained a steady presence on the Canadian charts through 1972. Despite the  success, Terry never fit the image of a typical pop star. He openly admitted  that money was never his biggest motivation.

 He disliked touring, avoided media attention whenever possible, and often joked that he would rather  spend his time fishing than promoting records. At the same time, he had taken on nearly every responsibility  surrounding the band, handling not only songwriting and performing, but also much of the management and business side.

  The workload became overwhelming, and eventually he decided to retire the Poppy family name altogether. Looking back,  several factors contributed to the group’s surprisingly short life. Their longtime manager, Dub All Britain, who also managed Rockabilly legend Brenda  Lee, died in 1971, leaving a major gap behind the scenes.

 Then came another decision that many believe changed the band’s future. Terry turned down an invitation to perform which  way you go and Billy on the Ed Sullivan show, choosing instead to appear at Expo 70 in Osaka, Japan. Unlike  many successful groups of the era, the Poppy family never fully embraced touring.

  Susan genuinely enjoyed performing live, but Terry never felt comfortable living on the road. His  relentless pursuit of perfection also began taking a heavy toll on his marriage. Years later, Terry openly admitted how demanding he had been  while recording Susan’s vocals.

 He believed emotional songs needed genuine emotional performances, and he constantly pushed her to reach that point. During the recording of Which Way You Go and Billy, the first version sounded technically perfect, but Terry felt it  lacked the heartbreak the lyrics demanded. The feeling bothered him so much that it sparked an argument after they returned home.

 The following day, they returned to the studio. Susan was emotionally drained, exhausted,  and completely worn out. This time, the performance captured exactly what Terry had been searching for. He later admitted that he intentionally pushed Susan because he believed sadness  could not simply be acted. In his view, songs about heartbreak needed to sound genuinely broken while Susan naturally possessed a bright, joyful voice that  he constantly tried to soften for those recordings.

Eventually, the pressure became too much. The marriage collapsed, the couple divorced, and by 1973, both Terry and Susan  launched separate solo careers. Susan immediately released her debut solo  album, I Thought of You Again. The title track became a major Canadian hit and earned her a Juno nomination for Canadian female vocalist of the year.

 Another memorable song from  the album You Don’t Know What Love Is had an especially personal origin. It grew out of a heated argument between Susan and Terry, who was still producing her music despite their relationship falling apart. Susan later recalled that Terry had such a short attention span  during disagreements that she often had to express herself in brief, direct sentences just to keep his attention.

During one argument, she told him he didn’t know what love was and  admitted she simply couldn’t understand him. Not long afterward, Terry returned  with a brand new song built around those exact words. At least one lasting piece of music had come out of the argument. While Susan focused on performing,  Terry expanded his business interests.

 He owned Gonefish and Music Lead and later Sunfish Publishing. But producing records remained his greatest  passion. Even while producing Susan’s recordings, he continued releasing music under his  own name through Bell Records’s American Distribution Network. His first notable  solo success came in 1970 with I’m Going to Capture You, which reached  number 16 in Canada.

 Nearly two years later, Concrete Sea matched that achievement.  Then his cover of Buddy Holly’s I’m Going to Love You Too climbed to number seven, giving him another major hit. Still, none of those songs came close to what happened next.  In 1974, Terry released the title track from his debut solo album, Seasons in the Sun. That single didn’t just become another hit.

 It completely changed his career forever.  The unexpected Birth of a Classic. The story of Seasons in the Sun actually began long before Terry Jax ever stepped into the picture. The song was originally written in 1961 by Belgian singer, songwriter,  and poet Jacqu Brell titled Lumor, which translates to the dying man. It was performed  entirely in French.

 A few years later, in 1964, American poet Rod Mchuan translated the lyrics  into English and the Kingston Trio recorded the first English language version. That was the recording Terry Jax happened to hear and it immediately  caught his attention. Years later, during an interview with Songfax, Terry recalled having dinner with Jacqu Bell in Brussels after his own version became a worldwide hit.

 During that conversation,  Brel revealed the real inspiration behind the original song. According to Terry, Brell explained  that it was about an elderly man dying from a broken heart after discovering that his best friend was having an affair with his wife. Bre had reportedly written the song while staying in a brothel in Tangier  and his original performance was completely different from the gentle ballad most people know today.

 He performed it almost like a marching song, giving it an energetic rhythm that contrasted sharply with its heartbreaking lyrics. In Brell’s version, the dying  man says goodbye to his priest, his closest friend, and finally to his unfaithful wife, Franis. Even after learning she had repeatedly cheated on him, including with his best friend, he forgives her before taking his final farewell.

 When Terry first learned the story behind the song, he found it unforgettable. There was something about its emotional weight that stayed with him. Even though he never cared much for Rod Mchuan’s English translation, the song itself continued to occupy his thoughts.  Eventually, Terry decided to create his own arrangement.

 Rather than recording it himself,  he first offered it to one of the biggest bands in the world, the Beach Boys. The group had invited Terry to produce a recording for them, something he considered a tremendous honor. Believing Seasons in the Sun would perfectly suit their signature harmonies,  especially with Carl Wilson on lead vocals, Terry suggested they record his arrangement.

The sessions began at Brian Wilson’s home, but they  quickly became far more complicated than anyone expected. Although Terry had been brought in as the producer,  Brian Wilson struggled to step away from his usual role. Known for spending months perfecting recordings, Brian  repeatedly wanted to keep working on the master tape.

 Even though the sessions technically belong to Terry, the situation became so difficult that the recording engineer reportedly took the master tape home every night just to prevent Brian from  making further changes without permission. The project dragged on endlessly. Later, Terry admitted that the constant tension nearly pushed him to a breaking point.

>>  >> He poured enormous energy into the sessions, but with everyone pulling in different directions, the recordings  never reached the finish line. Eventually, he accepted that he simply couldn’t complete the project. The band’s personal lives only made things even more chaotic.

 According to Terry, the Beach Boys were going through an especially turbulent period. Mike Love was deeply involved in spiritual  movements. Dennis Wilson had become entangled with Charles Manson before the murders. and Brian Wilson was struggling with his own well-documented personal challenges.

 Meanwhile, Carl Wilson and Al Jardine were doing everything they could to hold the band together. Under those circumstances,  finishing the recording became almost impossible. Still, the sessions weren’t a complete loss.  While working with the Beach Boys, Terry collaborated closely with Al Jardine on the backing  vocals and developed an arrangement that he would later use when recording the song himself.

 Even then, Terry knew one thing had to change. Jacqu Bell’s original story centered on betrayal, infidelity, and forgiveness. The dying  man spent his final moments saying goodbye to the people closest to him, including the wife who had repeatedly been unfaithful  and the friend who had betrayed him. That story line never felt right to Terry.

Instead of preserving those themes, he completely reshaped the song. He rewrote much of the lyric and even added  an entirely new final verse. His inspiration came from somewhere deeply personal.  One of Terry’s closest friends had recently died from leukemia, and that heartbreaking loss became the  emotional foundation for his version of Seasons in the Sun.

 Recording it was anything but easy. Looking back during an interview  with Memeray TV, Terry admitted that he struggled with the idea of performing the song at all. Because it was inspired by someone he loved, he never felt  comfortable earning money from such a deeply personal tribute. That discomfort eventually became one of the reasons he stopped  performing live as often.

 The rewritten version also reflected another painful real life experience.  One afternoon, Terry was out playing golf with a close friend named Roger when Roger quietly revealed that he didn’t have much longer to live. At first, Terry refused to believe it.  Sadly, the diagnosis was acute leukemia, and at that time, there was very little doctors could  do.

Just 4 months later, Roger passed away. That loss transformed Seasons  in the Sun. Instead of telling the story of a man betrayed by his wife, Terry focused on something  far more universal. The heartbreak of saying goodbye to the people who mattered most.  His version became a farewell to a best friend, a father, and a loved one.

 Removing the themes of infidelity entirely and replacing them with grief, love, and acceptance. Even after finishing the recording, Terry still wasn’t convinced he should be the one singing it.  He doubted his own voice and offered the song to several established artists instead, including Larry Evoy of Edward Bear and Canadian  singer songwriter Gordon Lightfoot. Both declined.

 With no one willing to record it, the finished master  simply sat on the shelf. Then came one of the most unexpected turning points of Terry’s career. One day, his neighborhood paper boy stopped by and asked what his next single would be. Terry admitted he hadn’t decided, but played Seasons in the Sun  anyway.

 The young listener loved it instantly. What surprised Terry even more was what happened the following  day. The paper boy returned, this time bringing six friends with him. They all wanted to hear the song again. Watching a group of kids become completely  captivated by the recording made Terry rethink everything. If the song could connect with them  that deeply, maybe it deserved a chance after all.

 It turned out to be one of the best decisions of his life. Released in 1973 as Terry’s second solo single after Concrete Sea,  Seasons in the Sun exploded around the world. The song reached number one on the Billboard Hot 100 in the United States,  where it stayed for three consecutive weeks. It also topped the charts in the United Kingdom and became an international phenomenon.

Remarkably, Terry  released it through his own independent label, Goldfish Records. Within weeks, it became the fastests selling single  in Canadian history, moving more than 285,000 copies in an incredibly short  period. Its success quickly caught the attention of Bell Records vice president Dave Carico, who immediately flew to Vancouver to secure the American  distribution rights.

 Bell Records released the single in the United States and  by Valentine’s Day in 1974, it had already earned its first RIAA gold certification after surpassing  1 million sales. The momentum never slowed. The record eventually sold more than 3 million copies in the United States  alone and over 6 million worldwide, making it one of the biggestselling singles of the decade.

The success  completely transformed Terry’s life. With the money he earned from the song, he bought a boat and fittingly named it Seasons in the Sun.  Spending long stretches sailing along the coastlines of Canada and Alaska gave him time to reflect, and those experiences gradually strengthened  his spiritual beliefs.

 Not long afterward, Terry returned to Jacquel’s catalog for another recording. He chose If You Go Away, another English adaptation by Rod McKuan of  Brell’s famous French song Nome Kitpa, which literally means don’t leave me. Unlike Seasons in the Sun, however, the song failed to capture the public’s imagination,  peaking at only number 68 on the American charts.

 Why he quit at his peak.  By the mid 1970s, Terry Jax had reached a point where the music business no longer brought him the same excitement. He never enjoyed the endless touring, constant  promotion, or the pressure that came with being a pop star. So despite standing at the peak of his success, he gradually stepped away from recording.

 Although he continued producing music for other artists behind the scenes.  Before long, even producing wasn’t enough keep him in the industry. Burned out by the demands of pop music, Terry walked away almost completely. Instead, he embraced Christianity  and devoted himself to a cause that became just as important to him as music had once been, protecting the environment.

 His focus turned toward fighting water pollution and deforestation, particularly challenging the practices of  Canada’s pulp and paper industry. For Terry, environmental activism became more than just a new passion. It also allowed him to build an identity beyond the one song that had defined his career.

 He later admitted that becoming known as an environmentalist was the only thing that finally allowed people to see him as more than simply the man behind Seasons in the Sun. Eventually, longtime friend and fellow musician Bob Buckley encouraged him to return to recording. After marrying his manager, Margaret Zitier, Terry slowly found his way back into the studio.

 In the fall of 1982, he released a compilation album titled Into the  Past. Along with his best known solo recordings, the collection featured a previously unreleased song, You  Keep Me Up, as well as a newly recorded version of The Poppy Families, Where Evil Grows. His comeback continued the following year with a brand new studio album called Pulse.

 For the project, Terry teamed up with Bob Buckley as co-producer.  Buckley had already built an impressive reputation through bands such as Straight Lines and Body Electric and would later work with artists including Brian Adams, Sailing Deion, Aerosmith,  and Simple Plan. The album produced several memorable songs including Voice of America, television, Rainy Eyes, and another recording of Where Evil Grows.

Its biggest single, You Fool Me, climbed to number 26 on the Canadian  charts. A few years later, in 1987, Terry signed with Attic Records and released another album Just Like That. The  title track became its only single and reached number 17 in Canada. But once that chapter  closed, Terry made another life-changing decision.

 He retired from the music business for good. The reason was simple. He still couldn’t stand touring.  Rather than slowing down, he redirected his energy into environmental activism with the same determination he had once poured  into songwriting. He founded an organization called Environmental Watch, dedicated to holding major logging and pulp  companies accountable for pollution and environmental damage across Canada.

Unlike many celebrities who simply lent their names to charitable causes, Terry became deeply involved himself.  In 1988, he filed a lawsuit against British Columbia’s Ministry of Environment after it granted a pollution permit to House Sound Pulp and Paper. Although he eventually withdrew the case in 1990, it happened only after the ministry laid  19 separate pollution charges against the company.

His activism wasn’t limited to courtrooms.  In 1989, Terry organized a flotillaa of boats that sailed past  several pulp mills in House Sound protesting industrial pollution. Throughout  the 1990s, he remained locked in lengthy legal battles over emissions and changes  to environmental permits issued to pulp mills.

 His efforts eventually helped influence major environmental policy in Canada. Terry was widely credited with playing an important role in the passage of two federal laws that strengthened protections against coastal logging and placed tighter restrictions on fish canning operations  involving foreign fishing fleets. His work earned recognition from organizations including the United Nations and the Western Canada Wilderness  Committee.

 The heartbreaking death of Terry Jax and his partner. After spending years making headlines for music  and environmental activism, Terry unexpectedly found himself back in the news in 2001 for  far less positive reasons. The RCMP responded to an incident at  his home in Seelt, British Columbia.

 The investigation resulted in charges involving improper firearm storage and  alleged spousal abuse. Although the firearm was not connected to the alleged assault, the incident  severely damaged the relationship and less than a year later, Terry and Margaret divorced. Years  later, another series of challenges arrived.

This time involving his health. In  2016, Terry suffered two strokes within 6 months of each other. In a remarkable twist of fate, both Terry and his former wife, Susan, two of Vancouver’s most recognizable music figures, found themselves hospitalized at nearly the same time. Only a few years earlier, Terry had successfully overcome prostate  cancer and appeared healthy while promoting his song Starfish on the Beach.

 Then in March 2016, he suffered  his first stroke while aboard his boat near Pender Harbor on British Columbia’s Sunshine  Coast. 6 months later, another stroke struck. Friend Jaime Anste later explained that Terry had been recovering in Haidaguay and seemed to be making steady  progress before suddenly suffering another stroke.

 He was airlifted first to Prince  Roupert Hospital and later transferred to Lion’s Gate Hospital for specialized treatment. At the very same time, Susan was fighting a life-threatening medical battle of her own. She had spent several weeks at Suriri Memorial Hospital after severe complications  from kidney disease left her on life support.

 Early reports painted an incredibly grim picture. Her son, Thaad Dinsky, shared that she was  facing the fight of her life as doctors worked to stabilize her condition. Then, almost unbelievably,  things began to improve. When former Poppy family bandmates Craig Macau and Satwan Singh visited  her, they were amazed by the difference.

 Just days after being critically ill, Susan was smiling, laughing,  and joking with visitors. Veteran broadcaster John Tanner noticed  the same dramatic turnaround. Only a week earlier, he had seen her in an induced coma. Now she was awake, chatting with visitors, telling stories,  and reflecting on what felt to her like a near-death experience.

 Against the odds, both Terry and Susan recovered.  Susan even returned to the recording studio in 2018 to begin work on another album, proving once again how determined she was to keep making music. In March 2022, Terry reached out to fans through Facebook after another difficult period in his life.

 He explained that he had experienced a challenging  2021, spending time in the hospital before finally beginning to feel much stronger  again. He also thanked supporters for their concern, saying their encouragement had given  him strength and expressing hope for better days ahead. Just weeks later, heartbreaking news arrived.

 On  April 25th, 2022, Susan Jax passed away at the age of 73  while waiting for a kidney transplant in a British Columbia hospital. She had spent years battling kidney disease. Terry paid tribute to  his former wife and longtime musical partner, remembering her as someone with a kind heart who had brought his songs  to life through her remarkable voice.

 He added that she would live on beyond the clouds, a touching reference to one of their earliest recordings together. Susan’s  health struggles had stretched back many years. After being diagnosed with kidney failure, she gradually reduced her performing schedule.  Then, in 2010, her older brother donated one of his kidneys, giving her a second chance at life.

 The transplant allowed Susan to return to recording and performing,  something she deeply treasured. She often spoke about how profoundly the experience had changed her perspective,  saying it gave her a completely new appreciation for life and left her believing she’d overcome almost anything.

 Sadly,  that second chance eventually came to an end. Complications from an infection ultimately claimed  her life. Her brother, Billy Pescovitz, later remembered that music had always been part of who Susan was. according to him, always singing right up until her final  years. But the infection became too overwhelming and her heart eventually stopped.

 During her memorial service, Billy described her as an extraordinary sister, devoted mother, loyal friend, and a woman whose beautiful voice touched countless people.  He remembered her gentle personality, incredible determination, and the strength she showed throughout both her music career and her long battle with illness.

 He  also expressed the family’s deep gratitude to the nurses, doctors, and healthare workers at Suriri Memorial Hospital who cared for Susan during her final days. Tributes quickly poured in from across Canada’s  music community. Singer Burton Cummings remembered her as warm, genuine, and downto- earthth.

 Legendary broadcaster Red Robinson reflected on how Susan had brightened Canadian television through her early appearances on CBC’s  Let’s Go before achieving lasting success with the Poppy family and as a solo artist. Perhaps most remarkable of all, Susan  never stopped looking ahead.

 Even during her final years, she was still working on new music. Her optimism remained one of her  defining qualities. She believed her positive outlook had helped prepare her for every challenge life placed in front of her, and that determination stayed with her until the very