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The Passing of Thomas B. O’Grady – OPP Commissioner Emeritus
April 22, 2024

On April 16, 2024, we lost an incredible police officer and leader from the OPP family. At the same time, his beloved wife Betty, his children and grandchildren all lost the dearly loved patriarch of theirs.


Tom O’Grady had a storied police career that lasted 42 years. He joined the RCMP in 1956 as a young 18 year from Northumberland County in Ontario and following a short stint in Rockcliffe Park (Ottawa), was posted to the Cornerbrook, Newfoundland. Then in 1958, Tom left the RCMP and moved back to Ontario. In those days the RCMP would not allow their young officers to wed and given that he married the lovely Betty that same year, it appears the RCMP lost a good man over their policy.


Tom subsequently served with two small municipal police departments in what is now Durham Region, before joining the OPP in 1961.


His OPP career took him first to Bradford, then Stayner, Huntsville and by 1972 he was assigned to the OPP Anti-Rackets Branch at OPP Headquarters in Toronto. He flourished in the investigative realm and was promoted several times there, including to Detective Inspector upon his transfer to the Criminal Investigation Branch (CIB). He led a number of complex homicide and other major cases across Ontario, including into outlaw motorcycle gangs and even an international case that involved the possible overthrow of a Caribbean country by extremists.


That is when I first met Tom O’Grady, when he was in the CIB and came to London Detachment to conduct some interviews. My Staff Sergeant at the time asked me “Do you know that guy?”, and I replied that I had only heard his name, and in a positive way. He said, “He could well be the Commissioner someday.”


At that time, I didn’t even know what a CIB Inspector was, but after meeting Tom, learning of his cases and watching his interaction with other members, how he spoke and carried himself, my career goal was cemented. I was determined to be a CIB Inspector at some point in my career.


Commissioner O’Grady went on to lead the CIB then was promoted to Chief Superintendent in-charge of the entire Investigations Division, and with a couple of other brief stops, was appointed to be OPP Commissioner in February 1988.


I never really interacted with the Commissioner much prior to the early 1990s. Then through various assignments and investigations, I had to meet with him on occasion and even briefed the Solicitor General and Ontario government committees with him. I was always so impressed with the way he spoke and the impact that had on those he was addressing, whether they be political or police leaders. He maintained a calm, reassuring presence, enunciated his words carefully and purposefully, all while exuding knowledge, confidence and professionalism. There’s no doubt they all admired him greatly and I was certainly proud to call him “Commissioner”.


I attended a meeting with him in Ottawa in the mid-90s, regarding a national strategy to fight organized crime. He sat at a huge table, quietly and thoughtfully, as movers and shakers in police leadership from across the country debated various options and strategies to tackle the growing organized crime threat. After many had spoken and the tide of the discussions had ebbed and flowed, he indicated that he had something to say. When he had the floor, all the other police Chiefs and Commissioners focused intently as he articulated his views – expressing agreement with portions of the earlier dialogue and some contrary thoughts. That changed the direction of the entire conversation. Others nodded in agreement and then the Chair spoke, and the entire group indicated their consensus.


One of things he said to the group, and it struck me, was: “Whether it be federal, provincial or municipal police services, they are all paid for by the taxpayers. And it’s all the same taxpayers. We owe it to them to work together effectively and to get it right for them.”


I told him after the meeting that I thought in future meetings – that involved a galaxy of egos and agendas, he should simply speak first, everyone would agree, and we could wrap things up much more quickly. He laughed and said, “Well, they all need to have their say.”


I didn’t realize it then, but through those interactions I learned valuable lessons that would help me in my journey as a police leader.


In 1995, Tom called me to his office in Orillia. He was very concerned about a letter to the editor that I had sent to a major newspaper to correct some misleading reporting they had published.

Although I had worded the letter carefully, he felt that I had disregarded his instructions to the entire OPP to not engage with the media about a controversial issue that the OPP had been criticized over. Although I made a brief counterargument, there was no doubt in my mind that I was not going to sweet-talk my way out of this discussion, so I fell on my sword.


He asked, “Why do you do these things?” It appeared t he had the perception that I spoke my mind a bit too directly at times. He had me there! I replied, “Because they pissed me off.” He said, “Well they pissed me off too, but I didn’t write them a letter.” I said, “Perhaps you should have.” He went on to tell me that I wasn’t alone in that thought and that someday he would publicly speak to the issue, adding, “In the meantime, the next time you’re pissed off, come and see me before you write the press.”


I reported directly to him through my years at Criminal Intelligence Service Ontario (which he assigned me to) and then he promoted me to Superintendent two years later. I totally appreciated that he never threw the towel in on me over my media letter. Other leaders I worked for over the years certainly would have.


Tom O’Grady led the OPP through some challenging years. Ten of them in fact. Fiscal, relationship, public safety and media challenges that we had seldom ever faced as an organization required a high level of patience and strategic thinking. Although as a minor player at the time, I didn’t always agree with the direction chosen or some of the players he promoted to executive roles, but I respected Tom as our leader and did what I could to support him and his agenda, as I did for every Commissioner to follow.


I would eventually find out that being Commissioner of a 9000-person organization can be a lonely position. As a rule, making suggestions to the boss and then disagreeing with his or her decision on occasion isn’t all that stressful. Actually, it’s a pretty easy go. But when the buck stops with you, as it did with Tom for a full decade, it’s a whole different world. I know many people didn’t agree with all my decisions or promotions over the years either – and at times rightly so. Despite Tom’s or my best efforts to get it right, at times we didn’t. That reality comes with the turf.


Commissioner O’Grady retired in 1998. I couldn’t make it to his retirement celebration, but I sent him a letter to wish him well and to thank him for his leadership, his unwavering support of all of our men and women, and for his belief in me. I added at the end, “Even though you’re retired, anytime I’m pissed off, I will give you call before I write a snotty letter to the press.”


We chatted on many occasions over the years to follow. He would still give me his opinion if I asked, but never once offered it when I didn’t. His sage advice and at times silence, was always valued and greatly appreciated.


When I wrote a book on leadership in 2016, I interviewed Tom as well as several other past and current Canadian police Chiefs. In response to my question regarding the importance of leadership, he offered this thoughtful feedback:


“It has been said that the public is generally oblivious to good policing, rather it is the absence of it that draws public attention and concern.

 

By comparison, an efficient and effectively functioning organization is the result of good leadership, a fact that usually goes unnoticed. Only when the organization begins to malfunction does the subject of good leadership or the lack thereof become a subject of public debate.”


Well said, Sir.


I’ll miss Tom O’Grady. As I do, I will certainly keep Betty and his family in my thoughts. They’ve suffered a tremendous loss.


Rest in peace Commissioner.

By Chris Lewis March 28, 2026
Leadership is inundated with risk, every hour of every day, in all sectors. In policing, legislative authorities and established policy are the ever-present guideposts, but occasionally policy just doesn’t apply. At times someone has to just make a decision to do something, or not, or they will fail the public they serve and the personnel it is their duty to lead. If it goes bad, time to own up, do damage control, learn from it and move forward. It always frightened me when I saw some at the senior executive level in policing think that supervisors and managers operate in a pristine little bubble where nothing should ever go wrong. Then when it did because some supervisor tried their best to make something work for all the right reasons, they wanted to pigeon-hole the person that took the risk. There were times during my own career when executives were not encouraged to take any risk either. In fact, taking risk was career risk in itself. Despite the best of intentions, if it went bad, the one ‘responsible’ be forever labelled as having failed. Even if the gamble went well, the jaundiced eyes from above would still forever look at them as being a potential liability. It became the “Oh, him. He’s the one that...” At times the daily decision making of high-level commanders would be second-guessed by those in the executive suites – some of whom had never really commanded anything. My buddy retired Chief Wayne Frechette used to describe these folks as: “They’ve never been out after dark on company time.” I know this same concept was alive in many other police services. Some at executive levels actually did serve in operational roles at some point but they never took a risk. Somehow, they were fortunate to skate through difficult situations through sheer luck as opposed to good decision-making and never developed any scar tissue along the way. They didn’t learn from failure – they survived by luck. They also were viewed by weak executives above them as being golden because there was never a milli-second of negativity around them. They were Teflon. But those that worked under their “command” (for lack of a better word) had no respect for them. They simply watched them walk around with coffee in hand, never leaving the office or making a decision. It wasn’t leadership, but it did pave the way to stardom from on high, for some. True leaders do take risks at times. Many I worked with and for did it all and did it well. They did so in the best interests of those they served and those they led, because it wasn’t about themselves, but was done in the service of those that placed their trust in them. Policy simply doesn’t fit every situation. It is most often a guide that anticipates most circumstances that employees will face, particularly the more common (high-frequency) ones. But it cannot predict every possible scenario. When that happens in policing, it can occur in very unlikely situations (low-frequency) that are incredibly high-risk. Supervisors cannot say “Sorry folks, the book doesn’t cover this one” and run away crying. They also don’t have time to tell bad guys, “Hey big fella, sit tight. We need to take a pause here and get the whiteboard out so we can have a group-think about how to stop your murderous rampage.” I think that many pseudo-leaders – far too many, are afraid to make risky decisions out of fear that an error will jeopardize their career. Instead, they risk their careers by not making decisions. Or as I like to say: “their fear of career-risk, risks their careers.” This can be fatal in the policing world. When a police supervisor shirks their responsibilities or quivers, sucks their thumb, and prays for the situation to go away, thankfully constables will come forward and do their best to get their teammates through it. Sometimes that ends well and when the supervisor emerges from their fear-induced coma, they will more often than not take credit for the success. But when the situation goes to hell-in-a-handbasket – despite best efforts, the pseudo-leader will document the risk-taking employee and add another bullet-point to their list of things they’ve done to “hold people accountable.” The panel at their next promotional interview will likely hear the false rendition proudly told. I hear examples of this practise from serving police officers across North America on a much too frequent basis. True leaders develop a culture of trust among those they lead that their suggestions and feedback are encouraged and valued. Their confidence that the leader wants their input encourages them to constantly analyze situations and give thought to what policy says and the options available when policy says nothing. That is good for the employee’s development and may save the leader’s hind-end and the continuity of the team on occasion when an employee steps forward in a crisis. Having said that, there will clearly be situations where there isn’t time for the whiteboard, and a decision needs to be made by the responsible “leader.” When it doesn’t work out, the real leader will step forward and be accountable. But when it does go well, the true leader will allow the light to shine on the team they have the honour to lead. In my view, we’re not seeing enough of that in North American policing. We need more genuine leaders at all levels of law enforcement organizations. Developing and promoting real leaders that can manage risk effectively is a must. Anything less fails everyone.
By Chris Lewis March 26, 2026
They used to be simply a "nice to have."
By Chris Lewis March 18, 2026
The March 17 th announcement by the Toronto Police Service (TPS) regarding the Ontario Provincial Police (OPP) investigation into allegations by an Ontario Justice that three TPS officers colluded and lied during a 2024 murder trial against a man that ran over and killed TPS Constable Jeffrey Northrup in 2021, has further inflamed the debate over who should investigate alleged police wrongdoing. This instance combined with the recent arrests and ongoing police investigation into several TPS officers for their alleged involvement with organized crime, has brought this discussion to a boiling point. I appreciate the public perceptions around this investigative model given that the average citizen doesn’t necessarily understand the professionalism and commitment of police investigative teams like the recent OPP Criminal Investigation Branch (CIB) group. I have all the confidence the world in that team, but I also personally know the ability and integrity of the OPP Detective Inspector in-charge. So, if these investigations aren’t carried out by police, who will do them? They do not fall under the mandate of the Ontario Special Investigations Unit (SIU), which by the way is largely comprised of former police criminal investigators and forensic identification experts, many of whom investigated homicides in police services. For SIU to assume a larger role, they would have to grow exponentially and expand their team of ‘former cops’. These cases generally do not fall under the purview of Ontario’s Inspectorate of Policing either. They would loosely fall under the oversight role of Ontario’s Law Enforcement Complaints Agency (LECA), who is responsible for receiving, managing and overseeing public complaints against police, but frankly they don’t have mandate or the horsepower to conduct complex criminal investigations. They oversee the “public complaints” that may lead to a criminal investigation, but the investigation would be the responsibility of a police service to conduct. An expansion of the LECA would require a tremendous amount of funding and human resources, most of whom would also be former police officers. Hiring and training civilians to conduct such investigations is an option, but largely an incomprehensible one. Police criminal investigators are trained officers that generally start out as uniformed officers responding to occurrences and investigating more routine and less serious crimes, i.e. minor assaults and property crimes. They build investigative expertise over time, including in interviewing and interrogation; gathering and securing physical evidence; legal processes like obtaining judicial authorizations; presenting evidence in court; and various investigative strategies. They learn how to work with special police units that provide specific investigative skills, and more. All of this doesn’t happen overnight, but over a period of years and with the tutelage of more experienced investigators along that journey. Trying to turn a group of young and well-educated civilians – no matter how intelligent and well-intended, into a team of elite investigators, would be a complete disaster and unfair to the public or to the officers being investigated. Over my many years as a member or as the Director of the OPP CIB, my colleagues and I investigated criminal allegations against cops from other agencies. Before the SIU was formed, we investigated officers from many Ontario police services – large and small, who had used deadly force. Many were cleared and a number were arrested and charged. We also investigated criminal allegations against police chiefs in Ontario. Again, several were appropriately cleared, and some were brought before the courts. Municipal, provincial and federal elected officials were similarly investigated and some charged. Our members also investigated police officers in other provinces, including high-ranking ones. I personally investigated two Royal Newfoundland Constabulary officers that were involved in an arrest that result in the death of a suspect. They were properly exonerated, but I would have charged them in a heartbeat if they had wrongfully killed than man. I arrested an OPP Sergeant for sexual assault. A CIB colleague investigated and arrested two different OPP officers for criminal offences. Both of those officers had been personal friends of mine and years later committed suicide. There are tons of similar examples that I can refer to over my career. All of these involved the oversight and legal analysis of a Crown Attorney, sometimes from another province. The interesting thing, and what most of the anti-police folks will never believe, is that in every single one of those investigations, the dialogue that I was involved in with other officers that I worked with or supervised, involved doing what was right. In other words, “If the allegation is substantiated, we will put the case together, arrest them and put them before the courts.” Not even once, did we think about or do anything that would give an officer a pass when they committed a criminal offence. Never. I have every confidence in the world that the vast majority of municipal and RCMP colleagues across Canada would operate under the same guiding principle. Has the occasional officer worked in conflict with that approach? Undoubtedly. Were some investigators not as committed or capable as they should be and perhaps did a poor investigation accidentally or deliberately? Quite likely so. But I truly believe those cases are the exception, not the rule in criminal investigations. Where I more often believe poor investigations or deliberate attempts to inappropriately give a colleague a break continues to occur, is in Police Act investigations, where policy or employee harassment wrongdoings are suspected. I like to think that the focus on that continues to improve, but not fast enough in some cases. Sadly, I know now that unbeknownst to me at the time, it happened under my watch. A focus for my next article. The public and police deserve the very best of investigators to ensure that bad cops are effectively put out of business and good officers are cleared. If there’s another effective option that would appease the doubting public – aside from using current officers from other agencies or creating a new and costly entity that would be staffed by former police officers, I’d like to hear it.