Upon the death of Jean Beliveau I devoted my National Post column to eulogizing the gentleman who exemplified the best that Quebec once produced, a model of what Quebec aspires to be. The treatment was even more generous here in the pages of The Register, with a cover story and a laudatory editorial. It was well deserved.

They came by the thousands. Young and old, men and women, Francophone and English, the able-bodied and the infirm, they came despite the driving, biting snow and blustery wind to a church in Montreal in mid-December to bid farewell to hockey legend Jean Beliveau.

Several years ago Jean Beliveau was asked to name the book he would select if he could own just one.

“The Bible,” he told the Montreal Gazette. “It’s a book I could read the rest of my life.”

For two days, a constant stream of mourners filed past Jean Beliveau’s casket in Montreal’s Bell Centre. His widow, Elise Couture, was present to receive the sympathies from dignitaries, her husband’s teammates and ordinary fans alike.