'We are all touched by cancer': the story behind the Sinclair research gift

Feature Stories | 22 Nov 2024

Photography by Hélène Cyr

Cara and Murray Sinclair’s $25-million gift to Queen’s made news across Canada. But the story behind the story reveals a couple who went outside their comfort zone to turn their grief into hope for everyone who has been touched by cancer.

By Jordan Whitehouse
Nov 11, 2024

Tie-dye T-shirt, cowboy hat, and cowboy boots. That’s what Craig Sinclair would wear to many of his chemotherapy treatments at BC Cancer in Vancouver. It didn’t take long for most doctors, nurses, and staff there to know him by first name and smile every time they saw him. It was an “outrageous outfit,” remembers his sister-in-law, Cara Sinclair, with a smile of her own. But that was just who Craig was.

Whether he was helping one of his special education students with a math problem or his two young children with the intricacies of kicking a soccer ball, Craig was always trying to lift up those around him. He just loved life, says his brother, Murray Sinclair, Com’84.

So, when Craig was diagnosed with the aggressive form of brain cancer known as glioblastoma in March of 2021, it wasn’t too surprising what his instructions were to his brother, who was also his medical power of attorney: Craig not only wanted to live as long as he could, but he wanted to live “big” every day.

And he did, says Mr. Sinclair, indulging in everything from hamburgers and milkshakes when he probably shouldn’t have to watching movies late into the night to spending as much time as possible with his family. That lust for life stayed true even as Craig started to lose the function of his limbs and other body parts and as he travelled to London, England, to receive the immunotherapy that he couldn’t get in Canada.

But even though Craig was holding out hope for more time – which the immunotherapy did give him – “you always knew the clock was ticking,” says Mrs. Sinclair.

On March 20, 2024, that clock finally stopped.

Craig was 55 years old.

Brothers Craig, left, and Murray Sinclair.

Almost three months after Craig died, Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair were onstage in the atrium of the Queen’s School of Medicine. They were there to announce their $25-million gift to cancer research at Queen’s, one of the largest donations ever made to Queen’s Health Sciences.

As it was explained that day, the money would go toward a new state-of-the-art cancer imaging facility, a specialized biomanufacturing facility for immunotherapy treatments, a new training program for aspiring cancer researchers, and more. In recognition of the gift, the Queen’s Cancer Research Institute was renamed the Cara & Murray Sinclair Cancer Research Institute.

The Sinclairs’ gift had been in the works for more than a year at that point, but the timing of the announcement was particularly poignant. Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair fought back tears as they talked about Craig and their hopes for what this gift would do for those diagnosed with cancer and the loved ones who watch them face it.

You could hear a pin drop.

“Sadly, our loss is not unique,” said Mrs. Sinclair. “Cancer crosses all lines, all cultures, races, and religions.”

According to the Canadian Cancer Society, two in five Canadians are expected to be diagnosed with cancer in their lifetime. Approximately one in four Canadians will likely die of the disease. This year alone, it’s estimated that every day an average of 675 people in the country will be diagnosed with cancer and 241 people will die from it.

But as Mrs. Sinclair noted, cancer’s universality is what can actually bring hope.

“We are all touched by cancer,” she said. “And because of that we can find the collective strength and motivation to do something about it.”

Two months later, I catch up with the Sinclairs via Zoom from their home in Vancouver. I want to learn more about who they are and why they wanted to make such a large gift to cancer research at Queen’s in particular. The two sit on a big couch in their living room sipping coffees with a wall of abstract paintings behind them. Their dog, Parker, a Frenchie, makes a brief appearance to say hello.

Giving interviews isn’t something the Sinclairs are necessarily used to. They aren’t used to having their names attached to their charitable work either. The words “humble,” “down to earth,” and “understated” come up again and again when I talk to others who know them.

Giving back is nothing new for the two, however, particularly Mrs. Sinclair. She was born in Kingston, grew up in Ottawa, and eventually moved to Vancouver where she completed an MFA at the University of British Columbia.

Cara and Murray Sinclair near their home in Vancouver.

It was also in Vancouver where Mrs. Sinclair’s volunteer work took off, particularly in the Downtown Eastside, an area notorious for a complex set of challenges including drug use, crime, homelessness, and poverty. In 2005, Mrs. Sinclair started a charitable initiative that eventually became HELP Youth Canada Society in 2011. The non-profit now assists unhoused and at-risk Vancouver youth through a bursary program and the distribution of backpacks stuffed with essential items.

In 2021, Mrs. Sinclair was awarded British Columbia’s Medal of Good Citizenship for her volunteer work. In the award announcement, the committee said, “Cara’s vision and efforts have directly improved the lives of thousands of disadvantaged youth, educated thousands of others about youth homelessness, and made Vancouver a kinder place to live.”

Mr. Sinclair admits that giving back “probably isn’t as instilled in my DNA as it is in Cara’s” (though Mrs. Sinclair says he does a lot more than he lets on). He grew up in Toronto and went to Queen’s from 1980 to 1984 for a commerce degree. Among a long list of Queen’s memories that stick with him are his time living in Princess Towers, rolling $10,000 worth of pennies during Frosh Week, caring professors like Lewis Johnson, and learning how to be self-sufficient.

One good Queen’s friend was a popular engineering student named Peter Carty, who was diagnosed with cancer in the fall of 1983. He was the first person Mr. Sinclair knew who battled the disease. “Peter was collected every Wednesday and driven to Pearson where he flew to Atlanta to undergo the immunotherapy of the day,” remembers Mr. Sinclair. “He flew home after a couple of hours of treatment to resume his studies.”

Mr. Carty died in the spring of 1984.

“It was tough to comprehend his passing at that age,” says Mr. Sinclair. “I’m not sure it’s much easier now.”

After graduation, Mr. Sinclair moved to Vancouver for a job in finance and never looked back. Since 2013, he has been the chief investment officer at Earlston Investments Corp., a private investment company. Before that, he founded and was the chairman of Sprott Resource Lending Corp. and held various senior management roles with Quest Capital Corp., the predecessor to Sprott.

“The fact that Cara and Murray made a donation to cancer research doesn’t surprise me, although the generosity of their gift is really quite remarkable.”

Dale Bonsall, a friend of the Sinclairs

Although Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair moved to Vancouver around the same time, they actually met on Bourbon Street in New Orleans in 1986 during a conference. The two married in 1987, had two children, and later made it part of their collective mission to give back whenever they could. Over the years, that has meant donating time and money to a range of organizations, including the Winnipeg Art Gallery, the BC Cancer Foundation, and the Canadian Mental Health Association. Their gift to cancer research at Queen’s, however, was by far their largest.

“The fact that Cara and Murray made a donation to cancer research doesn’t surprise me, although the generosity of their gift is really quite remarkable,” says Dale Bonsall, a longtime friend of the Sinclairs and a colleague of Mrs. Sinclair’s at HELP Youth Canada. “They’re just wonderful, caring, understated people. I wouldn’t have been surprised if they had done it anonymously but I’m very happy they didn’t because the personal story behind their donation may inspire others to also contribute to cancer research.”

That personal story doesn’t just include Craig. Mrs. Sinclair’s parents both had cancer, another brother-in-law has cancer, Mr. Sinclair’s father died of cancer, and they both have a handful of friends who either have cancer now or have had it in the past.

“It’s everywhere,” says Mrs. Sinclair. “And Murray and I talked for a long time about whether we could make this gift anonymously or not. And we ultimately decided, ‘No. Queen’s wants to leverage this.’ And we wanted that, too. And so, we just thought that there comes a time when you’re trying to make a significant impact that you have to get outside of your comfort zone.” Queen’s Dean of Health Sciences Jane Philpott can still clearly remember meeting Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair for one of the first times in mid-2023 on a trip to Vancouver. The three met for dinner on a Sunday evening at the Marine Lounge, a laid-back restaurant overlooking English Bay.

“I was struck by how casual it all was,” says Dean Philpott. “You tend to think when you meet with people who can make a $25-million gift that it’ll be in some fancy, formal place. But it wasn’t, and we just chatted about their family, about Vancouver, their travels. Nothing was pretentious about it.”

Cara and Murray Sinclair walk in Pacific Spirit Regional Park.

Dean Philpott was also struck by how confident the Sinclairs were about making their gift. They never questioned whether it was the right thing to do, she remembers. “They knew right from the beginning that this was something that was really important to them, and they knew it would have an impact.”

Part of that confidence came from a couple of visits the Sinclairs made to the Queen’s Cancer Research Institute in 2023. As they toured the facilities and met with passionate PhD students hunched over microscopes and leading researchers like immunotherapy expert Paul Kubes, the “enthusiasm of the place became contagious,” says Mr. Sinclair.

Mrs. Sinclair agrees. “This is the top cancer research institute in Canada, and we could see that. A lot of what these brilliant scientists were doing went way over our heads,” she says with a laugh, “but you just knew they knew what they were doing, and they were doing it right.”

Back on their couch in Vancouver, the Sinclairs are thinking again about Craig. You can see the impact of his life and death in their faces and hear it in their words about him – “optimistic,” “modest,” “funny,” “strong.”

Yet as devastated as the Sinclairs are about Craig’s passing, they clearly aren’t swallowed by grief. They are determined to use Craig’s memory and this gift to help others, to try to extend lifespans, to put, as Mr. Sinclair says, “even one more tool in the toolbox” of the experts who wake up every day trying to beat back this disease.

Mrs. Sinclair is still thinking about Craig’s “outrageous” chemo outfit.

“What a strange, ironic reversal,” she says. “That somebody so ill can make you feel so buoyant by their story, that they can make you somehow feel better.”

But that’s what cancer can do, she adds.

“It can teach you so many lessons along the way. It taught us about Craig and his strength, about ourselves. And it taught us that even though the clock was ticking, if cancer research can give you more time – five, 10 years – then that can be such an incredibly positive thing.”

This news story was originally published by the Alumni Review

'We are all touched by cancer': the story behind the Sinclair research gift

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