Lino Girardo

Lino Girardo April 7, 1956 – December 10, 2025

Lino passed away suddenly, leaving behind a family, a community, and an impressive number of former students and athletes who are all better for having known him.

Lino lived his life guided by a simple principle: if someone needed help, you helped – no hesitation, no fuss, and certainly no expectation of recognition. He was a selfless and caring presence for his family, his friends, and his wider community, offering steady support delivered with humility and a well-timed sense of humour.

Lino shared 45 years of marriage with his wife, Deb, his high school sweetheart and lifelong partner. Together they built a home grounded in kindness, loyalty, and laughter. He was a loving and devoted father to Leah (Nathan), Krysty (Martin), and Kyle (Kelsey), and a gentle and proud Nonno to Toby, Gus, and Jack, who brought him immense joy. He was also deeply loved by his family: his sister Loretta; his brother Franco (Maureen); his nephews Brian and Brad (Holly); his father, Gino; and his late mother, Maria, and well as many Zii (his dear uncles and aunts), especially Secondo, who he lived with through most of his young life.

For 32 years, Lino taught at Don Bosco Secondary School, where he consistently impacted the lives of thousands of students. He was also a devoted coach to hundreds of athletes, teaching lessons that extended well beyond the classroom or the gymnasium about fairness, effort, and showing up for others.  Outside of teaching and coaching, Lino could often be found golfing with friends and family, tending to what many would agree was the most beautiful yard on the block, or walking his beloved dogs, Brio and Lena. He took pride in simple routines and simple pleasures, all approached with careful attention and good humour. After 14 years of retirement, Lino liked to say – proudly – that he was “really good at doing nothing.” Those who knew him well knew better. His version of nothing meant staying busy looking after the people he loved, keeping the house and yard in order, lending a hand whenever it was needed, and always making time for a walk, a visit, or a laugh. It was, in truth, a full-time job, and one he did with the same quiet care he brought to everything else.

Lino did everything with humility and humour, and his generosity leaves a lasting mark. He will be deeply missed and fondly remembered by all who had the privilege of knowing him.