"The first couple of times he was nominated, we knew it wasn't by much that he wasn't inducted," Nicholas said. "He's our dad, we're proud of him no matter what. But after the second time he wasn't elected, it was like, 'OK, maybe it won't happen.' We didn't really think about it, and I didn't even know he was being nominated this year. I don't think he knew. Suddenly, his name was brought up, and he was voted in."
It was Nicholas's wife, Renée, who acted as editor on Vachon's speech that he fussed with, trying to distill a life of 71 years into five minutes. She used a light hand, as she has done for years with things written by Vachon or Nicole that somehow always found her desk.
"He wanted to keep it short and sweet. A couple times when we were over at the house, we'd talk about a few stories, and I wanted him to add things that I know about," Nicholas said. "Renée was excited to be able to help, but my dad wrote it. He just needed some reassurance that someone else had looked at it. There's a lot of history from when he played so long ago. There are stories people don't know about. How the game was played back then. Little things -- no agents back then, the way they lived, even a player getting to the NHL is night and day from then to today."
On Monday afternoon, the three Vachon children had no clear idea about the words their father would read.
"I don't know how emotional he'll be," Marie-Joie said.
"It will be tough, not just for Dad, but for us," Nicholas added. "Mom will be looking down. She'll be proud, and she'll be happy. She hasn't been gone long, and we all miss her."
Vachon honored Nicole haltingly in his speech, struggling to contain his emotions.