
Jamie Burns

On Sunday, August 2nd, our beloved dad passed away quickly, surrounded by love, after a short-but-mighty health battle.
We are heartbroken that he left this world in the middle of what he called "one of the best years of his life", but we take comfort in knowing that his time ended exactly as he would have chosen - fast and painless and full of friends and family and stories and love. And a little bit of cursing and some colourful nicknames about annoying nurses.
My siblings and I have always loved hearing stories about our dad, and the truth is that even while he was with us, he was never the one to share them. Throughout childhood I remember dinners where guests would come over and all of us kids would just sit enthralled and delighted by the (usually hilarious) tales we were told.
We want to make this page like a family dinner conversation, full of the best and biggest and most "Jamie" stories you have. We will take them all and turn them into a book so that his kids, and grandkids, can read and re-read about all the wonderful quirks and oddities that made our dad such a sensational human.
(Note: Please excuse all the punctuation, appropriate capitalization, and words spelt completely as opposed to using cryptic short forms. Dad would not approve.)
Memory wall
Jamie was such an authentic and decent man. If everyone practiced some part of his example of kindness in life, the world would be such a better place. As is reflected in many of the memory wall posts, he was generous to a fault. He certainly was to our family back in our Oakville days. We shared many memories including school sports, Raptors, Florida and he always had encouraging words. His sense of humour was even reflected in his 5-page General Information Florida condo sheet in which Point #24 in bold italics read: Anyone caught doing any of the jigsaw puzzle will be shot. Hilarious! The puzzle was admired from afar and definitely remained untouched as hard as that was.
Regrettably over the years, life got in the way and we lost contact. Lesson learned unfortunately. The shocking news of his passing is still hard to process.
He left a lasting legacy with his leadership & passion bringing Stinger’s basketball to Edmonton. Jamie loved basketball.
I wish I would have met Jamie many years ago. The stories shared on his memory wall are awesome and he truly lead an amazing life and touched a lot of people. He is one of a kind and will be missed. Jamie thanks for you initial call and the chance to meet you. You will be missed.
He leaves a remarkable legacy . My thoughts are with Terry and her family at this time.
Sherry Gysler
I first met Jamie in 2020 when I was a constable with the Edmonton Police Service, working closely with Alcanna to combat liquor theft and the systemic violence impacting the industry.
Jamie was a phenomenal human being who demonstrated his character through action. He placed immense trust not just in me, but in the Edmonton Police Service as a true partner throughout this endeavor. He didn't see barriers to success—he only saw detours.
His down-to-earth demeanor and genuine care for his team aligned our energy toward finding a real solution. With support from Jamie and his team, the EPS initiated Project CAPONE—a first-of-its-kind investigation targeting the organized crime groups fueling the liquor theft trend.
Jamie brought people together and inspired them to succeed.
Project CAPONE was a resounding success, exposing a complex organized crime network running a lucrative black-market liquor distribution business. The EPS successfully infiltrated the network, leading to the arrest of key organized crime figures and charges for illegitimate businesses who were reselling stolen liquor. The investigation captured local headlines and brought this critical issue to the attention of the provincial government. Jamie was a primary champion of our work—not because it aligned with his business, but because he genuinely cared about keeping people safe.
During this time, we also developed the controlled entrance concept for retail liquor stores. Even though the technology was new and unproven, Jamie saw its potential and volunteered his stores for the initial field tests. Putting the safety of his staff far above company profit, Jamie allowed us to test and prove a solution tailored specifically for Alberta’s retail market. Controlled entrances ultimately reduced theft by 94% and violent incidents against staff by 97%.
I remain deeply committed to pushing this portfolio over the finish line. Jamie’s trust in me, his faith in the EPS, and his relentless drive to create safer workplaces for retail staff continue to motivate me.
I last saw Jamie about a month ago at the airport. We agreed to grab lunch once the summer chaos settled down. I’m holding him to that lunch on the other side. Rest in peace, Jamie. Know that you left a profound impact on me and on everyone who had the privilege of crossing paths with you. A role model to the end—you were truly one of the greats.
Sincerely,
Ben
(#3639 Sgt. Ben Davis)
My husband, Kerry, has had plenty of conversations with Jamie during their time at Alcanna together. And I know the team that were making things happen during those years were a special group of peers. Truly friends. I don’t believe that happened by accident. Jamie set the tone that every voice mattered. Every person pulling on the rope mattered. He knew everyone’s name, everyone’s story. He built a culture, a real team. The last time I saw Jamie was at a corporate party. His tie was off, tied around his forehead, and he was leading a congo line for the ages, with the biggest smile on his face! Not a single one of them was intimidated to be out there “with the CEO”. They were out there with Jamie, their friend. I don’t know that there’s a more perfect example of a leader.
To say he left a mark is an understatement. I never spoke with the man, but my heart is heavy this week because I know the world lost a good one.
I met Jamie around the turn of the century. He had been busy building a chicken empire when I was hired as a green young lawyer in the business. He referred to me only by my last name, usually with a tinge of theatrical repulsion. Not surprisingly, I was often admonished for obfuscating things and for LBS. I’d like to say it was a fast friendship, but on paper at least, Jamie and I were basically fire and ice.
I still don’t know if his cryptic emails were some sort of Rorschach test, or whether he simply operated at a level of brevity that mere mortals couldn’t understand. Either way, I spent more hours trying to decipher his words than I ever did answering them, all in an effort to earn his trust.
His aptitude for numbers was undeniable, his talent for dealmaking always evident, and he commanded respect without ever demanding it. Only a true Renaissance man could so effortlessly master such a diverse range of pursuits: politics, capital markets, the food business, alpacas, cannabis, basketball, family. Over time I learned that beneath that irascible facade, and behind the title of “Your Surliness” I’d given him, was a man of rare decency and honour, and a genuinely kind soul.
Jamie taught me a great deal about business and life. But the lesson that has stuck with me most is that integrity and success are not a trade-off. He was proof of it.
May his memory be a blessing, and may it never want for stories.
He was obviously talented and a visionary, but the quality that stood out most was his ability to connect with people, whether individually or with an entire room.
On an individual level, Jamie had a way of teasing you, challenging you, or simply making you feel like you were more than just an employee. He made relationships personal.
One of many examples was a running joke we had with him. Jim and I were constantly coming up with what we thought were "great ideas" that deserved Jamie's attention. The moment we'd walk into his office, he'd look up and say, "Oh great. Nothing but trouble just walked in." As we started explaining our latest brilliant idea, Jamie would slowly reach behind his desk for the “Burnski Eliminator”, a wooden stick I had made for him after he once joked that if he heard one more crazy idea from us, he was going to find a stick and beat the idea right out of us. Over the years, he kept that stick hanging behind his desk, and often, he'd start reaching for it before I could get a sentence out. It was his way of setting the tone for the upcoming conversation and I was never upset over a rejected idea.
Jamie also attended several real estate conferences with me. On one occasion, he joined me to help introduce the rollout of a new retail brand. During one conference, he was invited to join a panel discussing the emerging cannabis industry. The audience listened politely as the other panellists gave the polished, expected answers about the opportunities ahead. Then it was Jamie's turn. In true Jamie fashion, he delivered his honest opinion with the bluntness, colourful language, and authenticity that made him impossible to ignore. His passion and larger-than-life personality filled the room, and the audience loved it. He said what everyone else was thinking, but no one else would say out loud. Ironically, that candid moment opened doors for us and helped accelerate the chain's growth.
Another memory that makes me smile was when Jamie bought a barrel of Blanton's bourbon. Each bottle comes with one of eight different horse-shaped stoppers. Collect all eight, line them up together, and they recreate a horse galloping through the Kentucky Derby. We spent more time than we probably should have collecting those horses and trading stoppers until Jamie finally completed a set. Jamie mounted his set on an oak barrel stave that was prominently displayed in his office until the day he left the company. I never managed to complete my own set, but I admired his often.
As I write this, I'm looking at that Blanton’s set. It was Jamie's parting gift to me on the day that he left the company.
Looking back over all my years at Alcanna, most of my favourite memories were from the Burns era.
My sincerest condolences to the Burns family, and my deepest sympathy to everyone whose lives Jamie touched.
So many thoughts about Jamie at this difficult time from my my time as a young political staffer in the Mulroney government, to our work together to engineer the hostile takeover of Liquor Stores North America and his advice to me during my time as Official Opposition Industry critic and Member of Parliament in the 44th parliament.
After six months of trying to find investors to do the hostile takeover of LSNA and implement my turnaround plan, I turned to Jamie for advice. Jamie in responding to my frustration about the timid nature of Canadian private equity to do a hostile takeover, Jamie said “Rick you have to understand, they are pxxxy’s.” He suggested we chat with our old friend Phil Evershed who in tun asked me to present to his team the opportunity. That changed my life and Jamie’s as we were successful at the takeover and both moved to Edmonton to fix this broken company.
As an MP in the last parliament Jamie and I would speak often. He had the highest respect for those who served in Office and a passion for the issues. His ideas were critical for me in doing my parliamentary job. Jamie’s desire to put the country first drove him. I truly believe that if we Conservatives had won the 2025 election Jamie would have at the drop of a hat give up all his business interests to once again serve his country so desperately in need of his passion, and frankness.
We will not see his like again.
May his memory be a blessing.
One:
In 2006, the Miami Heat were in the NBA Finals. Jamie, Donald, and I were in South Florida the night that the Heat had a chance to clinch the championship on the road. We begged Jamie to drive us to the official watch party down in Miami at the American Airlines Arena, ~1.5 hours away. Jamie was against the idea all day, but at the last second, he agreed to drive us all down. Donald and I were so excited.
At each seat, the Heat organization placed white cotton seat covers to go along with their “White Hot Heat” theme that season. The group near us took their seat covers off, and instead of using them on their seats, one of them knotted his to his neighbor's, then to the next, and started feeding the chain sideways down the row. Soon, the seat cover chain grew the length of a few sections.
The goal: Run a single unbroken rope all the way around the arena and back to where it started.
While the Heat were one win away from a championship, these fans were more excited about tying together seat covers. Jamie: “These idiots only care about the seat cover chain. Watch the game!” Laughing, Jamie would later only refer to the seat cover chain as a toilet paper chain.
With a few minutes left in the fourth, somebody knotted the last two covers and the arena erupted. Not for the game, but for the “toilet paper” chain. Jamie: “These idiots…”
The Heat won the game and the championship. But years later all any of us remembered was the toilet paper chain. It would always make us laugh.
Two:
In 2012, Donald and I tried to hire NFL QB Daunte Culpepper to come to our annual Roberts/Burns pick up football game in Florida. Seeking approval from Jamie, we asked what he thought of the idea.
Jamie emailed us back: “anyone else but you two grifters (look it up) i would just laugh this off....but i fear for the worst…”
Daunte ultimately didn’t accept our offer to come.
20 years gives you many chapters of memories with a person, and by extension their family, who have always been incredibly generous, patient (teenage girls yikes!), and kind.
Some of my earliest memories of Jamie include a few harrowing car rides (I think Maggie, possibly Don, inherited those driving tendencies), a gaggle of girls taking over the Burns family kitchen in Oakville while he supplied us with all the Pizza Hut a girl could wish for, and his wonderfully quirky sense of humour that we'd happily laugh along with, even when we didn't entirely understand it.
As we got older, countless memories made at the townhouse on Kerr, or on trips to Florida and at summer parties at the property in Moffat, all made possible by Jamie's generosity and willingness to welcome us in. One of my all time favourites was Maggie's beautiful wedding in 2017. Jamie was absolutely beaming that entire weekend, from start to finish. From his speech to the late-night celebrations, the pride and love he felt for his family was impossible to miss.
There is no doubt that Jamie will be missed by many. It has been incredible to read others' memories and catch a glimpse of the countless lives he touched and the impact he had on the people around him.
All my love to Maggie, Don, Heather, Robbie and Terry.



Your note excusing all the proper punctuation and capitalization made me laugh because it reminded me of one of my favorite Jamie stories. One day, we received what appeared to be an email from Jamie, but it quickly became obvious that his email account had been hacked. The giveaway wasn't the content—it was the writing. The email had perfect capitalization, proper punctuation, and not a single exclamation point in sight! We immediately knew it couldn't possibly have been Jamie writing it.
The last time I saw Jamie was at a Stingers game last summer. I was there with a big group of family and friends, including what felt like a small army of kids. Jamie came over to say hello and showed up carrying a giant bag full of Buzz stuffies for every child and completely made their day. It’s hard to believe that we won’t have the opportunity to see him at another game.
My heartfelt condolences to the Burns family and everyone who loved him. Thank you for creating this space to share these memories. May it bring you comfort to see just how many lives he touched. Rest in peace, Jamie – you left a lasting impression on everyone fortunate enough to know you.

Gonna miss you, my old son. Don’t give the angels too hard of a time. Word is they can’t take a joke. Though I suspect that will only encourage you.
When I got older, Jamie helped me with a college report on Yum! Brands. He got on the phone with my group and me multiple times to explain the restaurant franchise model. I gained a keen appreciation for his intellect during those calls. I fully credit Jamie for my high marks in that class. He also taught me the fun fact that Mothers' Day is the number one sales day for KFC since it's the one day "mom doesn't cook."
I'll greatly miss Jamie and am incredibly grateful for the memories, knowledge, and giggles he imparted.
One of our first trips together was to Seattle, where we sat down with our Microsoft Account Team to tackle some major problematic licensing issues. Jamie had tagged along to make sure we felt supported and highlight the importance of the partnership with Microsoft. What CEO willingly spent time with the “tech guys”, but that was the person Jamie was – he saw much more in us than just being the “techies”. The meetings were tense, and our Microsoft account manager at the time, was nothing but challenging. At dinner one night, Jamie leaned over to Ray and me and asked, "Which one of these guys don't we like?" – referring to the account manager.
What happened next was pure Jamie – the entire dinner he continued to rattle shots across the table, poking where he could make sure our views were heard. Not with malice, but in typical Jamie fashion with humor underneath the bluntness that somehow defused the entire situation. Jamie had read the room, called it like he saw it, and made sure we weren't going to be pushed around - the way he always did.
A couple of years later, when I was nominated for the CIO of the Year Award, I was still new to the C-level, but Jamie wrote one of my reference letters, and I'll never forget reading his words. I know they were just words on a page. But they meant everything.
He wrote “Robbie is a best-in-class CIO, but more importantly, from my perspective is that he has been one of the key and most trusted executives on my team. Robbie knows and understands every aspect of our business, " Coming from someone like Jamie—someone whose opinion I deeply valued - those words carried weight that no amount of external validation could match.
I go back to that letter all the time - every time I read it, I'm reminded of Jamie's faith in me and how much that mattered.
When Jamie purchased the Edmonton Stingers, our entire family would go out to the games. He would take my girls, give them hugs, and ask them what they wanted from the swag shop, they’d come back loaded with sweatshirts, jerseys, and hats, over the moon with his generosity. I remember them asking why Jamie always sat in the stands as they couldn't understand why someone as important as Jamie wouldn’t be courtside. But it made perfect sense. Jamie was right there with people he cared about, watching together. My girls will carry those memories forever.
Thank you, Jamie. for showing all of us what real leadership looks like - your legacy isn't in the titles or the buildings. It's in the people whose lives you touched.
I first met Jamie when he joined our team and our little corner of the office at Alcanna (then LSNA). It was impossible not to instantly like him. His boisterous, bantering personality and witty sense of humour made every day interesting. As others from those days have already mentioned, he wasn't the type of leader who managed from a fancy corner office while everyone else did the work. Jamie was right there beside us in the trenches, guiding us with his abundance of wisdom, shielding us from daggers, rolling up his sleeves and getting his hands dirty, and never wanting or expecting recognition for his own contributions. He wasn't in anything for accolades and hated the spotlight with a passion. Jamie once insisted that his bonus be divided among staff because he felt they deserved it more than he did. That was Jamie. He had a remarkable way of making people feel valued, appreciated and worthy to be in the room.
Jamie and I initially bonded over our shared love of sports, especially the joy of sharing that passion with our children. Soccer, in particular, became something we talked or texted about often because my youngest son, Eric (who Jamie got to know quite well over the last 9 years and called his "best pal"), lives and breathes the game. Jamie loved talking about the memories he made with his own children through sports - the goal he and his son shared of attending a game in every NBA arena, their love of Arsenal, the Raptors, and cheering on Team Canada soccer and basketball to name a few. Jamie's love of sports (except of course the Oilers who he loudly cheered against when their playoff games encroached into Stingers' season territory) was never just about the games themselves, it was about bringing people together. He wanted everyone to experience the joy, excitement, and memories that sports creates because he had experienced that magic with his own children. One year when at Alcanna, Jamie got hundreds of tickets to Canada's World Cup qualifier games simply so staff could share in the experience. Recently, Eric and I attended World Cup matches in Vancouver, and Jamie and I exchanged messages throughout the trip as he followed along with our adventure. He wisely reminded us that we'd "still be processing it all at Christmas. Literally impossible to do it now in the middle of the marvelous mayhem" adding "I keep the memories!!!!...especially sharing those times with my kids!!!! So super special eh????". I know Jamie was looking forward to building on similar memories with his grandchildren. Jamie had a gift for making people, especially children, feel special. Eric, and all of my children who got to know him through Stingers games and other outings with him over the years, adored him.
Like many others, my friendship with Jamie only deepened after he left Alcanna when the line between professional and personal eroded. It was then we started the tradition of what Jamie affectionately named "GNO" (Girls' Night Out), a nickname that probably originated from one memorable evening shortly after Alcanna was acquired, when a few of us shared a little too much wine and, without inhibition, vented to Jamie about how much we already missed him and our days of working together. Jamie loved teasing us about the state we found ourselves in that night, but I think it also meant something to him to know how deeply he was loved and missed. We carried on with our GNOs over the next 4+ years, getting together whenever we could in between Jamie's travels and adventures.
Reading all of the stories shared since his passing, I find myself wondering how one person could have the ability to build so many meaningful relationships. But that's simply who Jamie was. He made you feel like you mattered, and when you were with him, he was present and you felt like you were the most important person in his world. I am so grateful for our friendship.
Like so many of us, I truly believed there would be more time—more GNOs, more sports games, more Stingers, more hikes, more "Personal Preference", more dinners, more hugs, more excited over punctuated texts, more stunning photographs he would share, more hot sauce, and more memories made...
His passing has truly left me gutted. Jamie will be deeply missed, always.
The adventure we went on in that short period of time was remarkable, and I got to ride shotgun for what turned out to be some of the more heroic pieces of business I’ve seen in my professional career. Jamie was incredibly generous (and direct!) in his feedback and guidance. Forget that bozo down south, Jamie should have been the rightful author of “The Art of the Deal”. Many of the strategies he taught me are still in use to this day and to great effect. From deal tension, the reliability of self-interest, “LBS”, getting the other side “PNR’d”, to helping him structure a “Voodoo note”, the list goes on. But the biggest thing I took from him was to embrace the crazy fun of doing a deal. From driving all over the Kentucky backcountry tasting some of the worst wines known to man to help an acquirer estimate spoilage, to the all-nighters we pulled to get a deal over the finish line (because it leaked on the Stockhouse bullboards on a Friday night and we needed to announce it before markets on the Monday), we had more than our fair share of craziness and fun. If the cliché of “work hard, play hard” were a person, it would be Jamie.
One fond memory I have of Jamie outside of work was the first Toronto Raptors game we went to. He warned me that he liked to coach the team from his seat, and I assumed he was joking. He was not. He was up yelling at the players, coach, and referees the whole game, giving them his unique brand of “feedback”. But that’s who I knew him as – someone who always thought better was possible. And was passionate about helping you get there, whether you were a young wet behind the ears CFO or Olympic gold medalist Kyle Lowry.
Despite our short but eventful time working together and the occasional call thereafter we’d have to bounce ideas off one another (a high honor for me), the impact Jamie had on me and my career was profound. I’m going to miss him, and can only imagine the significance of this loss for those that have had the pleasure of knowing him over a longer period. To Jamie’s family, please accept my deepest condolences for your loss. He was truly one of a kind.
A couple of found memories of your Dad.
As David mentioned, after Jamie sold 25% of the company to Aurora and our lease for the Edmonton office was coming due the decision was made to relocate the office. The search was on, Jamie made the decision that the company needed to get some “Swagger”, as he put it.
I think it really meant that he was really proud of what the company had accomplished and wanted everyone to be part of the success. He wanted to see the Alcanna name in lights on a Downtown building.
Another time, Jamie had arranged for a fishing trip out to his happy place in Sooke, before getting to the cabin, we all stopped at one of the old Liquor Depot stores that he has sold off for too much money, he purchased a bottle of Angels Envy KY bourbon as it was hard to get. After a hard days fishing it was time for a BBQ at the cabin that evening, myself and Kerry also appreciate a good bourbon, needless to say we made a very sizeable withdrawal from his bottle that night. With great fanfare and very loud commentary he never let us forget about the 2 urchins that drank his bourbon.
He will be so missed.
When I think of Jamie, I think of laughter. He had that rare kind of quirky humor that could make anyone laugh without even trying. If you know the Burns family, you know exactly where they all get it from.
He was always the one making everyone at the dinner table laugh. Every time I was around him, he made everyone feel welcome, and you could tell how much he loved his family. One of my favorite memories is from one of my first trips to Florida with the Burns family. We were out for dinner, and after I had almost finished an enormous plate of gnocchi, Jamie looked at the few pieces I had left and started calling them the "orphan gnocchis," giving them little voices and acting out their sad story. It instantly became the joke of the table, and it's one of those random memories that still makes me smile whenever I think of him.
Sending all my love and strength to the Burns family during this incredibly difficult time. Jamie was one of a kind, and I feel lucky to have known him. May his memory always be a blessing.
When Quinn and Fraser were young, I bought them a Barbie and Spider-Man fishing rod from Purke's Place in Bala. Instead of a barbed hook I unbent a paper clip, slid on a fake rubber worm and closed the paper clip back up. That summer the kids got hundreds of bites but surprisingly never caught a fish ;)
When Quinn and Fraser were maybe 8 and 10, Jamie and Terry invited Heather and I and the kids to the farm in Moffat. He took them both fishing in the pond in front of the house and they must have caught 50 fish each. Jamie couldn't get the fish off of each of their hooks fast enough before their lines were back in the water to pull in another one. As it turns out, the property used to be a fishing club and the ponds were stocked with thousands of fish!
This past Christmas Jamie took us deep sea fishing in the Florida Keys. The boat smelled like rotten fish and I nearly gagged multiple times on the 3 hour tour. That day Fraser caught a 6-foot shark that weighed more than him! Besides booking the whole family trip and arranging the fishing excursion, Jamie had the guide literally chum the waters to make Fraser's fishing dreams come true.
Three weeks ago at the cottage Otis expressed interest in fishing. We tried to tide him over with a 'cruelty-free' minnow trap, that even with no bait caught a surprising amount of catfish. Alas, it didn't scratch his angler itch. We told Otis not to worry, that Poppa (Jamie), would be here in a week and that he would love nothing more than to take him fishing. That next week Jamie made it as far as Toronto but wasn't feeling well and decided to turn around and fly back to Edmonton. Shortly after he was admitted into the hospital, and two weeks later he is gone.
When we shared the news with Otis, he immediately got very sad and said: "Poppa was supposed to teach me to fish."
Jamie taught us all so much and the profound impact he had on all of us when he entered our lives is incalculable. We have more amazing stories and incredible memories than fish in the pond that day.
Fortunately for Heather and I, Otis James Burns Dempsey has Poppa's name, his striking blue eyes, his quirkiness and his love of nature. And I know that if he were here, Jamie would tell me to suck it up and bait that hook.
I first met Jamie in Kentucky while we were selling off our chain of stores there. It was somewhat surreal to see him working alongside our CFO at the time, physically sorting through expired products and doing whatever else was needed for the sale, this also included a lot of laughing, swearing and joking around about the sale itself. I remember thinking, “This guy isn’t half bad he talks just like me and he’s willing to roll up his sleeves and get to work right alongside us.”
I would later share that observation with new members of my team when they joined us, telling them, “Even our CEO isn’t too big to sweep the sheds.” Jamie’s willingness to pitch in, regardless of the task, spoke volumes about his character and the kind of leader he was.
From that moment on, my respect for Jamie only grew. He worked with my security department and the Edmonton Police Service to raise awareness of the serious issues our stores were facing at the time. Jamie brought a level of commitment and support that I had never experienced before and have not seen since. His devotion to protecting our employees was extraordinary—perhaps the most impressive commitment to staff safety I have ever witnessed from a C-suite executive.
I have so many stories about Jamie. One that still makes me smile happened while we were driving together in Winnipeg. After someone in the car pointed out that he had already driven through about three stop signs, he casually replied, “Stop signs are merely suggestions.” That was Jamie—quick-witted and with a healthy disdain for silly rules that don’t apply.
Jamie and I also shared a special “fondness” for the CBC, which he jokingly called the “Communist Broadcast Company.” It was another example of his unmistakable sense of humor and the memorable way he saw the world.
Jamie had a rare ability to connect with people, earn their trust, and make a lasting difference in their lives. If the only currency on Earth were influence, Jamie would have been one of the wealthiest!
I will always be grateful for his honesty, his humor, and the way he stood beside us when it mattered most. He made a lasting difference in the lives of so many people, including mine. Jamie will be deeply missed, but the stories, laughter, and memories he gave us will remain with us for years to come.


Jamie taught me more than I thought any one person could know about business, people, human behaviour, intuition and judgment (what he called "The J"). Most of those lessons transcended business. I find myself quoting him often:
“Get them past the point of no return.”
“You can always trust a rational person to act in their own self-interest.”
And, of course: “It’s just lawyer B.S., Matthew.”
Jamie and my mother are the only two people who called me “Matthew” when "upset" with me. As the lawyer in the room, I heard it from Jamie with some regularity. I would walk into his office and say, “Okay, Boss” (a title he loathed) “remember the famous saying: don’t shoot the messenger.”
We went through some enormously challenging times at Alcanna. Jamie had strong views, and there were certainly times when we disagreed. But he always heard you out. More importantly, he made you confident that he had genuinely considered what you said. You never felt dismissed merely because he ultimately made a different decision.
Jamie possessed an extraordinary instinct for knowing when I needed encouragement. At moments that seemed random, but somehow arrived exactly when needed, he would send a note that made me feel like the most important person in the world.
During one particularly difficult period, after saying many generous things that he at least made me believe he believed, Jamie wrote:
"You guys always call me "boss"...which annoys me to no end which I am sure you all relish!!!! . But I do not see me as that. You are my partner Matthew. Equal. And never forget that and treat me differently if you are able to do that. J"
The word “leadership” gets bandied about endlessly in business. Jamie lived it. He challenged us, protected us, took care of us and made each of us believe that our contribution mattered. You could not have asked for a better leader.
When Jamie left following the sale of Alcanna, I gave him the attached caricature. It is filled with things that will make sense to those who knew him from the office: Blanton’s bourbon from the barrel he had bottled; tuna he would eat with crackers (which would blow everywhere as he yelled at (to?) you); and the “lawyer B.S.” he professed to disdain while nevertheless reading, marking up and, painfully for me, improving everything I wrote. Ohh, and heaven forbid you were labelled a chowderhead...
We worked hard. Jamie expected a great deal. We debated, disagreed, laughed, and occasionally drove one another crazy. But beneath all of it was his unwavering loyalty to his people.
I am a better person for having known him, and enormously fortunate to have been one of his partners.

Jamie and I were all-in for the Heat because Andrew and Don were extreme Heat fans, and you never root harder for a sports team than when your child's elation or sorrow is at stake.
The game was very close and so tension was high. Jamie rooted for the Heat by berating the team and its players whenever they made a mistake. He and I were sitting together and so I got to hear the constant stream of Jamie's invective. The ferocity and continuity of Jamie's ranting was a measure of just how much he wanted the Heat to win.,
Jamie reserved the worst (best?) of his rant for Shaq, the towering Miami Heat center who could do most everything well but was notorious for being a bad free throw shooter. So of course Dallas, the other team, fouled Shaq a lot. And Shaq did not disappoint. He went 2 for 12 that game at the free throw line.
I'm laughing now at recalling Jamie's "anger" at Shaq. The Heat won that night in a squeaker, 101-100. And of course after the game, Jamie "forgave" Shaq.
The Heat won the next game in Dallas and the series.

I will miss you and you will always be in our hearts.

Jamie Burns was one of those rare people.
To many of us, he was simply Boss. To me, he was one of the greatest gifts of my life. He was my mentor, my teacher, my friend, and one of the people who shaped not just the leader I became, but the person I became.
Jamie had an extraordinary ability to see potential in people long before they saw it in themselves. He challenged us, believed in us, called us out when we needed it, and celebrated us when we got it right. More importantly, he taught us how to think, how to listen, how to stay curious, and how to become better people.
He was endlessly fascinated by people. He wanted to know where you came from, what shaped you, what you believed, and what made you tick. He was wonderfully quirky, deeply creative, incredibly pragmatic, and never afraid to tell you exactly what he thought.
If you ever handed Jamie something you’d written, you knew it would come back covered in his famous red pen. Not because it wasn’t good enough, but because he believed you were capable of making it even better. That’s how he approached people, too.
Outside of work, he found joy in the simple things. He loved hiking, always with a camera in hand, capturing beauty that most of us would have walked right past. If you were lucky enough to be invited along, there was really only one rule: don’t talk. Just walk, look around, and appreciate what was in front of you. Somehow, that was one of the many ways Jamie taught us.
He made us laugh. He made us think. He made us better.
His legacy won’t be measured by the positions he held or the things he accomplished. It will live on in the people he shaped, encouraged, challenged, and believed in. I know I’ll carry a little bit of Jamie with me for the rest of my life, and I know I’m not alone.
Thank you for everything, Jamie.
You made us better.
Rest easy, Boss.


I only spoke to Jamie in May and we were both celebrating the Arsenal Premiership win after 22 yrs .
Jamie was an exceptional leader in a very tough business .He respected his fellow directors and All his employees .
Gifted at making correct decisions under pressure .
Will miss his sparkling roguish Scottish eyes .
Will finish off with a 4 line poem from’ A man’s a man for A That ‘by the great Scottish Bard Robbie Burns
‘The rank is but the guinea’s stamp ,
The man’s the gowd for a ‘that ,
Though gone from sight ,his worth remains ,
The man’s the good for all that ‘
Jamie thanks for the lovely memories and the fun times we all had together.
RIP
Denis Ryan
Denis Ryan
During our time together, Jamie shared so much wisdom and knowledge built from a lifetime of experience. He pushed me to stretch, supported my ambitions, and celebrated every milestone along the way.
What started as a professional relationship evolved into a deep and lasting friendship that I will cherish forever. The lessons he taught me—both in work and in life—will continue to guide me for the rest of my life.
Thank you for letting me be part of your YEG era, Jamie. GNOs won’t be the same without you.
With love,
Lamborghini

I’m sure you got bits and pieces from him about what adventures he was up to out here, but wanted to share with you some of what he accomplished.
Jamie CRASHED (I use that word specifically as there was no other way to describe his entrance) into all of our lives out here in Edmonton in the summer of 2017, in dramatic fashion of course… In June 2017 PointNorth Capital had just won a very bitter, public and hostile takeover of the publicly traded company that us Edmontonians worked for at the time, Liquor Stores N.A. Ltd. (which we later renamed to Alcanna in 2018 at Jamie’s insistence, rightfully so, that we all have a fresh start).
At the time of the hostile takeover, having been on the losing side, we couldn’t help but assume that Jamie, who had been newly elected to the Board through the takeover process, was going to be like a mustache-twirling villain straight from a gothic thriller. His entrance was ominous, and sudden, and theatrical, and trailing pure chaos everywhere he went for the first few months – so he fit the part of the villain perfectly. But very soon after the takeover and after the first couple of meetings with him, we figured out that he (along with the rest of the new Board) was the complete opposite of a villain… well, except the “sudden, theatrical and trailing pure chaos” part - he was all of that on steroids each and every day!!!
Possibly it was the wide chasm in our expectations between who we thought Jamie was going to be and who he actually was that lead to so many of us here in Edmonton having such a strong relationship with him. But I think that is just who Jamie was - somebody that you couldn’t help but form a strong bond with if you were on the same side of the fight.
In December 2017 Jamie took on the role of CEO of the company and from that point forward he was the most loyal, completely irreplaceable, best boss (I can hear him yelling at me now saying he wasn’t my boss, but my Partner– but I can’t help trying to get a rise out of him even after he is gone) and friend any of us could ever dare to hope for. And for four plus years he took us all on the ride of our lives...
In February 2018, just a few short months after Jamie took over, we sold 25% of the company to Aurora Cannabis for a significant premium based on Jamie’s sole ability to build a rapport with the CEO of Aurora at the time (in my view, Jamie’s ability to relate to and gain the trust of people he barely knew was his best strength). Aurora was betting on us to become the cannabis retail leader in Canada (cannabis was legalized in the fall of 2018). PLEASE TAKE A MOMENT TO LOOK AT THE PIC OF OUR BOARD OF DIRECTORS at a cannabis grow op – nothing about any of theirs or our backgrounds, experiences, age, and our complete lack of actual personal interest in cannabis screamed that we were the best team to bet on to become the leading weed dealers in Canada!!! But Jamie sold Aurora on it and told us not to worry and that we would figure how to deliver on the promises later... Jamie thought at the time that deal would be the pinnacle of his career with Alcanna – little did we know it was just the start! We did use some of this newly gained treasure to help fund our entrance into cannabis retailing – and we came out of the starting block on October 17, 2018, just 7 months after getting funded, well… just smoking!!! Huge lineups around the block at each store we opened for weeks on end – this rag tag team, lead by Jamie, had pulled off the unthinkable – we were leaders in cannabis retail right from the start and we didn’t stop – by the time we sold the business in 2022 we were one of the top 2 cannabis retailers in Canada.
We eventually used most of the funds from Aurora to rescue our declining liquor retail business (that we were able to direct the funds wherever we wanted, without restriction, delighted Jamie to no end as he knew we needed the money to save liquor and he loved the entertainment of the battles he had with Aurora who didn’t think much of that plan!). After we had exhausted a number of ideas to try to turn our fortunes around, a bit of anger from losing, and probably too much wine and beer to drink, we decided to start our own discount liquor retail brand to try to squash the discount liquor retailer competitors that were stealing our market share. We had absolutely no business plan, none, just a silly name (“Deep Discount Liquor”) that we came up with one evening – AND Jamie’s determination to win (which I believe was his 2nd best strength)! We eventually joined forces with Tank Vander, who was the toughest of all the discounters, again based on Jamie’s ability to establish a relationship, this time with ‘the enemy’, and brought Tank, his team, his family and his chain of discount liquor stores, Ace Liquor, into our fold. Together with Tank, the other main competitor inevitably ended up in bankruptcy (Jamie saw this outcome for the competitor long before the rest of us – Jamie’s ability to look out into the future and spot danger or an opportunity was his 3rd best strength). Our liquor retail business was back to winning based on Jamie’s determination and desire to win (and then it only further accelerated in 2020 as a result of the COVID restrictions on restaurants and bars, and liquor stores being deemed an ‘essential service’).
There were many trials and tribulations over that time. Our relationship with Aurora ended when they were struggling for cash – Jamie fought hard to get us out from underneath them before they impacted our winning streak. There was a lot of learning through our cannabis journey and Jamie did everything he could to figure out “where the puck was going” long before it got there so that we could keep winning (supply was inconsistent, quality was inconsistent, customer brand preference was ever changing and he did everything to try to keep on top of the constantly shifting dynamics). We sold off our US retail liquor stores for a sizeable amount in retrospect (Jamie saw the shifting competition long before the rest of us and got us out just in time at peak value). Our team and our business survived COVID and were stronger for it (it took a lot, meaning it took a Jamie, to hold everybody together and keep on the same page, despite very polarizing views on how we should handle, well, everything to do with COVID, restrictions, people matters, etc.). We bought a publicly traded cannabis retailer and took our cannabis stores public (Nova Cannabis) to take advantage of the crazy valuations out there at the time for cannabis companies (Jamie knew that we weren’t participating in that value bump because our successful cannabis stores were buried within the much larger liquor retail business). And then we eventually sold the company to Sundial/SNDL for a big premium in March 2022 (Jamie saw that cannabis valuations were at a peak and decided it was the right thing for our shareholders to get out then and for our businesses to have a new owner that was committed to them for the long term).
Through all of this, in just 4 short years, Jamie pushed us beyond the limits that we thought were there for our company and for us personally. But through it all, the laughing, the debating, the late-night crazy texting, the friendship, and the winning resulted in all of us having the best time of our lives.
And through that time, we all welcomed Jamie, a work colleague, into our personal lives as well – not something a few of us were accustomed to doing! My daughters and my wife adored Jamie as well. One day, my girls talked Jamie into coming out to Vermilion (my hometown, but also where Jamie had made a number of trips to with Don Mazankowski decades before as Vermilion was in Don’s Federal riding) for the annual fair. As soon as he got to the fair, the girls proceeded to convince (maybe con?) him into going on all the crazy fair rides, not the easy ones – who else’s boss is doing that with their kids?!?!? Jamie delighted in recalling the story of the “two little demon girls with their piercing eyes” that convinced him to go on the rides and ended with him claiming to have vertigo for a few months.
When Alcanna completed the sale to SNDL, a small part of me expected Jamie to disappear into the night and for us not to really have much contact with him again. That is what most CEOs/leaders would do. But that wasn’t Jamie. Since then and until now, another 4 plus years have gone by, and he chose to stay in our lives, keep connected, contribute to this community through the Edmonton Stingers and other ways, and keep the fun times going. The first 4 plus years developed a deep connection for a number of us with Jamie. But this last 4 plus years endeared us to him forever.
Here is what I wrote for him when he left Alcanna after the sale was completed:
“Everybody on this team, YOUR TEAM, will be fondly – hell, with a big grin on our face – recalling and telling stores from these past ~5 years that happened ‘with you’, ‘about you’ or ‘because of you’ for the rest of our lives. It takes a very special person to have had such an impact, professionally and personally on such a big group of people all at the same time. I hope you know how much respect, admiration and love that we have – that I have – for you. Thank you for the unwavering loyalty, support and belief that you had in the team, and especially me. Your Partner, David.”
His death has left us all utterly shattered and in disbelief. We had nine unforgettable years with him. And I am still hungry for more of his love of people, theatrics and the chaos that he trailed in his wake. Rest easy Partner.



Uncle Jamie made us all HOWL with laughter, and by being unapologetically, wildly himself, he gave us permission to do the same. I wish I had a voice memo of him imitating a guy at a restaurant somewhere in the South saying, “I just gotta get me some of that Key Lime pieeee,” or yelling, “That’s my coat, Bobby!” He would tease me about being an emo pre-teen and somehow make me laugh hysterically at myself. An impossible task.
As I got older, Uncle Jamie helped me navigate a very big decision business decision. He empowered me to trust my gut, and I have never looked back. I am forever grateful.
Thank you for the endless laughter, the incredible memories, and the friendship.
Love you, UJ. xoxo NOY,
Al

I was his exclusive US connection. Sometimes we would use the post to mail the product across the border when I needed to re-up. Other times we brought in Terry to use as a mule when the authorities began checking our correspondence.
We shared many emails perfecting the recipe. He was masterful in his concoctions. My tolerance for hot spice was mind blowing to Jamie. I was hitting the hot peppers since I was a teenager so my tolerance is higher than the average user.
Eventually, after decades of friendship, he shared his secret ingredient to me in an email:
"well we have a secret ingredient...alpaca poop = super flavor peppers!!!!...must lock the recipe in a vault a la coca cola and kfc!!!! breaking burns is one of the few cdn businesses ever to successfully penetrate the american market....95% of sales!!!!!"
Jamie perfected the Breaking Bad hazmat suit without ever seeing an episode of the show. He subsequently watched the series.
I will miss dearly my Canadian connect, but above all else I will miss my friend. There is no substitution.


That next year, my son Andrew was born. At some point soon thereafter, Jamie asked how "Andy" was doing. Not yet fully appreciating Jamie's unsurpassed talent for teasing with mordant wit, particularly anything that came close to "pretentious," I told him my son was NOT to be referred to as Andy but always as Andrew.
Whereupon Jamie started whistling the unmistakeable theme song from the Andy Griffith song. The first few times, I resented the teasing but after a while I decided it was funny. For years after, whenever Jamie wanted to make me laugh during a meeting, the more serious the better, he would tap the Andy Griffith song on the conference table.
As my daughter Lauren said, Jamie was "mischievous." He could always make me laugh and I have a huge storehouse of memories of him making me laugh for the next 35 years.
As I grew older, the admiration remained, the fear drained and the respect grew. I mean, what didn’t Jamie do?? He dabbled in and was success in about a million things! I have fond memories of drooling all over the Guelph property and wishing one day I could live like that :)
From my eyes, your dad was a strong and independent man who, along with Terry, raised their 4 children to be creative, loyal, kind and successful. That is an amazing legacy.
It may seem that your dad left you too soon, but I am thinking that he needed to get on to a new adventure and someone in another realm said ‘ Jamie, get in the car, we are leaving’.
With so much love to the entire Burns family,
Lindsay
I do not have photos, but I have memories that I will hold onto forever. Rest in peace, Jamie. Hugs to you.
Heaven just got a lot more interesting with Jamie there!
With love,
Len

