The Second Coming of Aaron Fish

Aaron Fish is home again. It’s a brisk mid-November morning in Montreal, and the 76-year-old, just back from six weeks in Tuscany, has dropped in to visit the zinc components factory that was once the heart of his global manufacturing enterprise. He’s treated like a favourite uncle. “We missed you,” the security guard says as Fish, dressed in the humble accoutrements of a retiree-corduroy newsie cap, brown overcoat, tie-less suit jacket and shirt-enters the building. Looking for a place to sit and talk, he opens the door to a boardroom. It’s occupied. The employees inside smile warmly and offer up the space. “No, finish what you’re doing,” he says. “You’re more important than me.”

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