Vancouver poet and Downtown Eastside activist Bud Osborn, the unofficial archivist of Canada's poorest neighbourhood and its most eloquent and forceful author and spokesman, died on May 6, 2014, at age 66, after being diagnosed with pneumonia.

Vancouver East MP Libby Davies, a longtime friend, said Osborn was a hero to the people of the DTES who understood that harm reduction and safe injection sites are important health measures and a fundamental human right. "I credit him with being able to change the way people perceive drug users,"; Davies said.

Osborn's poetry worked in tandem with his activism for people living on the street and against poverty.
His first publisher, Brian Kaufman of Anvil Press, recalls: "In 1994, Bud delivered his typewritten manuscript, Lonesome Monsters, to the Anvil offices on the second floor of the Lee Building at Main and Broadway. And what I saw in Bud's work then was the same thing I see now when I open one of his books: raw, brave, human, unadorned depictions of people caught in the meat-grinder life of poverty, homelessness, addiction, and violence.";

A chapbook by Bud Osborn called Keys to Kingdoms (Get To The Point Publishing 1998) received the City of Vancouver Book Award.

"Bud was an eloquent and passionate spokesperson for the dispossessed,"; said publisher Brian Lam of Arsenal Pulp Press. "As a recovering addict, he knew all too well the struggles of those who live with poverty and addiction, and dedicated his life to documenting their experiences, including his own, using the medium of poetry to move and educate others.";

Bud Osborn was born in Battle Creek, Michigan and raised in Toledo, Ohio. His father, a reporter for the Toledo Blade, was a Second World War bomber pilot whose plane was shot down and he became a prisoner of war. He received his father's exact name, Walton Homer Osborn. His father committed suicide in jail, as a traumatized alcoholic, when Bud Osborn was three. Osborn himself tried to commit suicide with 200 Aspirins when he was 15.

"Amid our peregrinations through poverty neighborhoods, I was so afraid of my name that when a tough alley urchin gang leader in another new location asked my name, I said my name was Raymond or something, but this raggedy kid replied, 'No, it isn't. It's Bud!' And I have insisted on being called 'Bud' ever since.";

Osborn began to consider himself as a perpetual bud on a tree, never to bloom or come to life. He briefly attended Ohio Northern University and took a job with VISTA in Harlem as a counselor. He became a drug addict, married and had a son. His family accompanied him to Toronto, but then his wife and son left him to go to Oregon.

Osborn lived on the mean streets of Toronto, Toledo and New York until he moved to the Downtown Eastside of Vancouver where he eventually entered detox. "I stopped running and tried to face myself,"; he says.

As a former addict who was 'seven years clean,' Osborn became a board member of the Vancouver/Richmond Health Board, the Carnegie Centre Association Board and VANDU (Vancouver Area Network of Drug Users). In the process he began working closely with Libby Davies and advocating for the introduction of free injection sites.
"I realize there are not many people who can advocate from the bottom, who have lived at the bottom,"; he said. As a city council candidate for COPE in 1999, Osborn became a fierce adversary of Mayor Philip Owen and met with federal Health Minister Allan Rock. He did remarkably well at the polls for someone who could have been dismissed as a former alcoholic and drug addict.

Although Osborn didn't win election, Mayor Owen reversed his stance and accepted most of the policies that Osborn and Davies had been advocating.

His collection of poetry from Arsenal Pulp and a CD of songs, both called Hundred Block Rock, were released to coincide with his performance at the Vancouver Folk Music Festival with bassist Wendy Atkinson and guitarist David Lester, followed by a cross-country tour.

A commemorative video is in the works.

"He could communicate with people,"; Libby Davies told the Georgia Straight, "and get them to understand what was going on, and he always spoke the truth, always. He never shied away from it.";