Rob Pelletier, Mob Boss of Wellness

Rob Pelletier,  Master Coach
Rob Pelletier,
Master Coach

As an instructor in mixed martial arts, Rob Pelletier has for many years taught his clients how to inflict pain. As a Master Coach in Toronto he instructed in boxing, Muay Thai, MMA, Self Defense and sports conditioning. He also managed a gym with 22,000 members. Almost 3 years ago he and wife Donna established a gym located on the main street of Keremeos. Since that time their vision has altered radically and, although they still offer instruction in martial arts, Coach Rob has become known as “the mob boss of wellness.”

When Linda and I entered their Main Event gym across from the liquor store, I was immediately impressed by the heavy duty punching bags suspended from the ceiling, the type that can withstand serious pummelling by powerful fists and feet. Rob walked toward us, exuding energy and enthusiasm. A big, well constructed man, I could easily picture him clad in shorts, engaged in high level competition.

 

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We sat on stools at a small coffee bar in the rear of the gym and I asked Rob how he had got started. A palpable passion energized his voice and hand gestures as he began talking. “When I was age 8, my parents enrolled me in boxing. I had a lot of energy and they thought boxing would be good for me.” That eventually led to a career in mixed martial arts. Early in his career he trained in the gym where 12 year old Lennox Lewis (later one of the world’s greatest heavyweight boxers) was working out. Over the years he trained with numerous high profile fighters and knew five time Canadian Heavyweight Boxing Champion, George Chuvalo.

“When Donna and I moved to Keremeos we began doing private training in our home,” he said. “We leased this building which was then vacant and in a state of disrepair.”

Donna Pelletier
Donna Pelletier

He now turned the conversation in another direction. “In the beginning Martial Arts was our emphasis, and we still do that. Donna teaches ladies kick boxing. However, retired people started dropping in. Some just wanted to have a coffee and talk. We began to realize their health was failing because many people are not physically active in retirement.”

Their changing clientele prompted a shift to promoting wellness. This attracted individuals of all ages wanting to deal with a variety of issues. Rob’s experience had prepared him for this transition. He had worked with sports psychologists and athletic therapists. He had also taken accredited courses in wellness.

Health professionals began recognizing the benefit of their programs. A cardiologist sent a man with a pacemaker. He had almost died, but is now working out on a treadmill at the gym. Physiotherapists are also referring clients. The Pelletiers are recognized by insurance companies. While we were talking, Don and his wife came in. Having had a shoulder replacement, he wanted help in gaining strength and movement.

 

“We’re a safety net for people in aftercare,” Rob said. “Some of our clients stop smoking. A wife told us her husband is drinking less alcohol. Some people report their medications are more effective when they work out here. Others rely less on prescriptions.”

The Pelletier’s have clients ranging in age from 5 to 80. Wanting to ensure that children from less affluent homes don’t miss out, they at times provide free memberships.

Sometimes people say, “I know I should exercise,” or “I should be more careful about what I eat.” But they don’t make the needed changes. “People rely on doctors and prescriptions to maintain their health,” Rob believes, “but we need to accept responsibility for our health.”

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He stresses the role of our thinking. “It’s important to focus on what we can do, not on what we cannot do. What we do here is a form of proactive medicine.” He draws a lesson from physical combat. “If 2 fighters of equal ability and strength are in the ring, the one with a stronger attitude will win.” He tapped his head with a finger to support his words. I began to understand that an emphasis on strong, positive thinking is at the crux of his philosophy.

As we were about to leave, Coach Rob said, “some people go across the street to the liquor store for what they think they need. Some come in here and begin a program of wellness that will change their lives.”

Exploring the Mystery of Easter

Crosses - three thepreachersword.com
Crosses – three
thepreachersword.com

Biblical accounts of Easter events seem to me improbable, puzzling and at the same time fascinating. As a kid I dreaded Good Friday because it entailed attending church and listening to a preacher who spoke a language I didn’t understand. In my adult years I’ve wondered why an all-powerful God would send his son to planet earth to be ridiculed and harassed by Jewish religious leaders and nailed to a cross by Roman soldiers. Surely he could have devised a more comprehensible scheme. One that did not require the ignominious death of his son on a cross.

By the time Jesus was born in Bethlehem, the Jews had already endured the cruelty of the Assyrians, and then captivity in Babylon during the reign of King Nebuchadnezzar. Permitted to return to their homeland by Darius, the Medo-Persian monarch, they had still been in bondage. Then the Greeks imposed Hellenization, weakening their culture and religion. And now the Roman emperor, Caesar Augustus was exacting oppressive taxes that impoverished them.

The 6th century B.C. Jewish prophets, Isaiah and Micah, had written about a coming Messiah, but when Jesus arrived and said he was the son of God, Jewish religious leaders turned against him early in his public life. They had long anticipated a powerful political saviour who would arrive with pomp and ceremony and deliver them from the succession of foreign masters. This man Jesus had come into the world as an infant, the son of a lowly carpenter.

He didn’t meet their expectations. His message was a radical departure from the longstanding “eye for an eye and tooth for tooth” response to adversaries. Rather, in his oft quoted Sermon on the Mount, he urged the gathering crowd to “love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you.”

His message included a warning against the hypocrisy of Jewish religious leaders, the Sadducees and Pharisees. “They like to walk around in flowing robes,” he said, “and love to be greeted in the market places and have the most important seats in the synagogues and at banquets. They devour widows’ houses and for a show make lengthy prayers.”

Accustomed to reverential respect, such sentiments did not endear him to the religious elites. They were rattled by the rebukes and Jesus’ unwillingness to observe their myriad rules. They were incensed at the numbers of people flocking to listen to him. Equally galling was his claim to be the son of God. His radical philosophy was undermining their exalted positions.

The crowds recognized that, unlike the chief priests and teachers of the law, Jesus wasn’t socially or politically ambitious. He wasn’t seeking position, wealth or power. He made no effort to charm his audience. He wanted to free the people from man made strictures. His unorthodox, unvarnished message emphasized love, forgiveness and hope.

In line with what had been written by ancient prophets, he spoke of his own impending death. Referring to himself he said “he will be handed over to the Gentiles. They will mock him, insult him, spit on him and flog him, and kill him.” Then he added, “and on the third day he will rise again.”

One event in particular awed the crowds and shocked the Sadducees and Pharisees. This was Jesus’ act of raising Lazarus from the dead. It was too much for the religious elites. Seeing their tight control over the people being eroded, they decided he must die.

Crucifixion was common in the Roman Empire and they demanded that the governor, Pontius Pilate, order this fate for Jesus. After questioning him, Pilate said, “I find no reason for this man to die.” The Jewish leaders incited the onlookers to demand Jesus’ death and Pilate, fearing a disturbance, relented. He instructed a centurion and his troop to nail him to a cross on a hill outside the town. The cross was placed between 2 criminals, also on crosses. One mocked him, the other asked to be remembered. Jesus said, “today you will be with me in paradise.”

Easter Lily watermark.org
Easter Lily
watermark.org

This plan for the redemption of humankind is so unusual and perplexing, many cannot embrace it. Even so, millions around the globe will celebrate Easter this weekend.
Although still not fully comprehending, I will be one of them.

The Hedley Sunshine Girls

Hedley Sunshine Girls
Hedley Sunshine Girls

I call Evangeline and Shizandra the “Hedley Sunshine Girls” because their joy of life is refreshing and contagious, much like an unexpected ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. About a year ago I began thinking it would be fun to have them as my friends. When I attempted to get them to notice me though, I just didn’t possess the IMG_2386charm or charisma to capture their attention. They were in their own little world, sometimes crawling on the floor, pretending they were dogs, sometimes racing each other non-stop. Probably because I was an adult, their young minds could think of no reason to let me in.

IMG_2312I persevered though and asked their mother if I could take a few pictures. She agreed and although the girls didn’t stop long enough to pose, I snapped several shots of them in action. When I showed them the photos on my camera, they were intrigued at seeing themselves.

IMG_2387They are now willing to participate in my amateur photography and quickly come around to view the pictures. Evangeline even offered me an Oreo cookie which she had licked clean of the icing.

For many in our community, the Hedley Sunshine Girls are a delight. They give us a reason to smile.

Sharlene & Sabbath In Windy Canyon

Sharlene & Sabbath
Sharlene & Sabbath

Linda and I have had frequent encounters with Sharlene and Sabbath in the wilderness surrounding Hedley. Recently, before the snow melted, they trekked up the winding former mining road to a tunnel overlooking Windy Canyon. That was undoubtedly a challenge for Sabbath’s stubby legs. I did the climb several times years ago when I was younger and fairly fit. Even then it was a good test of physical endurance. Evidently Sabbath is willing and eager to go where Sharlene leads. She has explored farther afield than we have in recent years. Her enthusiasm for the outdoors is infectious. She’s a reminder that we are extraordinarily blessed to be living in the midst of this rugged and spectacular grandeur. A touch of Eden.

Sharlene is enthusiastic about Windy Canyon.
Sharlene is enthusiastic about Windy Canyon.

Bob (Dinny) & Beryl Mullin

Dinny Mullin
Dinny Mullin

Bob Mullin was waiting on the porch when Linda and I arrived at his home on the outskirts of Princeton. He reached out a big hand and said, “Hi, I’m Dinny.”

In the dining room, which overlooks the Similkameen River, his wife Beryl set steaming cups of coffee before us. A wood stove in the corner provided a cozy warmth. I began by asking Dinny for the story behind what I felt was an intriguing nickname. He laughed. “My parents didn’t know I was born with impaired hearing,” he replied. “Often when my Dad asked me a question, I didn’t hear him, so I didn’t answer. He thought I wasn’t paying attention so he began calling me Dinny Dimwit, after a cartoon character.”

For many the inability to understand well is a debilitating impediment in social and employment situations. It might have sidelined him in the game of life. Had Dinny been less resolute and resilient, he could easily have joined the company of the malcontented when he left school without graduating. Instead, he carried on as though the impairment wasn’t a concern. “My first job was at Burr’s Motors,” he said. “The Ku Klux Klan was active here at that time and the owner was a member.” For a moment he seemed to return in his mind to those early days, then added, “They burned a cross in town.”

I was to discover that Dinny delights in sharing from his storehouse of tantalizing facts and events from the past. He pointed across the river and said, “that’s where Bill Miner’s cabin was. He’d ride from there in the morning and rob a train. By evening he was back. My mom said he was a hell of a dancer.”

Dinny and Beryl met at a school dance in Coalmont, the beginning of a life long love affair. “It was minus 32 Fahrenheit the day we were married 60 years ago,” Beryl recalled. Dinny reflected for a moment, seemingly surprised at the number of years. He smiled and said “I didn’t think I’d last this long.”

Beryl & Dinny Mullin
Beryl & Dinny Mullin

Endowed with the wide shouldered frame of a prairie wheat farmer, his early ambition was to join the provincial police. Alert, strong and thoughtful, he’d certainly have been an asset to the force, but it didn’t happen. “I was told I wouldn’t get in because of the hearing impairment,” he said. He refused to be discouraged though and got a job at the Granby Power Plant. When it closed, he worked for the local sawmill.

He understood that a community will be strong only if people accept responsibility and participate. “I got my Industrial First Aid ticket and joined the volunteer Fire Department,” he told us. “They gave us $3.00 a month. Most of us turned that back in to buy equipment. Sometimes I drove the ambulance. We did whatever was needed.”

Unlike today, those were not times when people could easily buy virtually everything they deemed a necessity. Dinny and his friends joined a local hockey team and played against other towns. “For padding we used Sears and Eatons catalogues,” he said. “We cut strips of tire tubing to hold them in place. No one owned a helmet.” His usual position was centre. Although goalie wasn’t a position he cared for, he became net minder if necessary. Now 84, he’s an ardent Canuck fan. “Right now he’s a little mad at them,” Beryl confided. “They aren’t winning a lot.”

They weren’t afraid of challenges. “We bought a 200 acre ranch 3 miles along the Merritt road,” Dinny said. “We ran 50 head of cattle. Often while I was at work, Beryl rode the range. It got to be too much though, working and ranching. A guy told me once the only thing stupider than a cow is the person who owns it. We sold the ranch.”

By the time our conversation drew to a close, I concluded Dinny and Beryl have achieved an enviable camaraderie and zest for life. She makes borscht and regularly plays bridge. He plays crib and each Tuesday meets for coffee with former hockey pals at the Sandman Inn. From their comfortable dining room they can observe an eagle building its nest or children tubing on the river. He now has hearing aids and his father would certainly agree ” Dinny Dimwit” has become surprisingly intelligent.

Doctor Assisted Suicide

Unless we’ve endured traumatic physical, emotional, or psychological distress, the current debate concerning doctor assisted suicide may be of little interest to us. It’s an issue I began thinking about some years ago as the result of a difficult personal experience.

A medical practitioner performed a maneuver on me that seriously disturbed my sciatic nerve. Over several days an excruciating, burning pain began radiating downward from my back to my toes. I wasn’t told one of my pain prescriptions could induce suicidal thoughts. The prospect of living out my years with this throbbing, burning pain almost unhinged me. I sat on the floor of our living room many nights, thinking about dragging myself to the nearest busy street and waiting for a large truck. It was a realization this act would be grossly unfair to Linda that held me back. Fortunately, a couple of people urged me to visit a doctor who had helped them and in time my condition improved.

Dad visiting with his grandson.
Dad visiting with his grandson.

I didn’t feel I had handled my adversity well. Then my 89 year old Dad broke a hip and was placed in a longterm care facility where all residents required wheelchairs and extensive help. This presented me with an opportunity to observe the response of people living with extremely depleted health.

Some, like Ruby, felt they had been betrayed by their bodies. A former airline hostess, she still retained vestiges of the startlingly good looks that must have once turned the heads of male passengers. Now in her early 40’s, she had MS and the bitter tone and words suggested she considered her life finished. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a support network to sustain her.

In the room next to Dad was Ron, whose ALS was already well advanced. He and his wife understood the illness would relentlessly destroy his ability to function. During the half year I knew him, Ron was rarely alone, except at night. A virtually endless stream of family and friends visited, even though they could no longer understand his words. He loved the people and they loved him. Their presence seemed to give him a reason to live.

One of my favourite residents was Susie. Now in her early 80’s, she had fallen out of a cherry tree several years ago. An adventuresome soul who had loved action, she now sat quietly in her wheelchair in the dining room, unable to propel herself. In spite of this cruel twist of fate, her eyes twinkled and she smiled when I crouched beside her to visit. A few days before she passed away, she reached for my hand and pronounced a blessing on me in her native tongue.

Dad’s response to the unkind ravages of life gave me a further example that has impacted my thinking. He had once been a respected heavy equipment operator and active in the community. Music had long been a passion and now in the facility he still played the cello, although with enormous difficulty.

At night 2 care aides used a lift to place him in bed. In the morning they dressed him and lifted him into his wheelchair. On bath day the lift lowered him into the tub and an aide washed him. He required assistance for going to the bathroom. Toward the end, he was too weak to feed himself.

Because of his age and helpless state, several nurses said, “you need to give him permission to die.” Very reluctantly, I followed this advice. “No,” Dad said firmly, “I still like to live.” He never became bitter, never let the experience take away his sense of dignity.

Like Ron and Susie, Dad had gathered inner strength, built strong relationships with the extended family, and resisted feeling sorry for himself when circumstances turned against him. He had come to a place of deep inner contentment which served him well in this state of virtually complete helplessness.

Having experienced pain myself, I cannot argue with those who long to die because their bodies are wracked by intense, uncontrollable pain. Nor with those who know their condition will deteriorate into a vegetative state. I do feel though that our society may be rushing too quickly along a path fraught with dangerous and unanticipated perils. My hope is that we can be wiser, more compassionate in offering help to incapacitated people. At least in some cases, there may be happier options than suicide.

Trans Pacific Partnership (TPP)

At the conclusion of negotiations that produced the far reaching Trans Pacific Partnership (TPP), local cartoonist Vince Flynn provided a rather unflattering and sobering assessment of the pact. His cartoon showed then Conservative Trade Minister Ed Fast saying, “I think we gave them everything they asked for.” The text of the 12 nation agreement had not yet been made public and I hoped the cartoon was more for the sake of humour than to convey an accurate portrayal of what was agreed upon.

Vintage Harold Anderson Calendar Picture
Vintage Harold Anderson Calendar Picture

All we knew at the time was that the agreement had been negotiated in almost total secrecy behind tightly closed doors, as though the various governments understood they were doing something enormously shameful. To me it smacked of young boys guiltily puffing on their first cigarette behind the family barn. Although we might want to believe its tentacles will not reach into our beautiful valley, the agreement has the potential to impact each of us directly.

Most of us have little understanding of the international trade regulations that already enable foreign corporations to extract huge sums from our governments. One example of this is the terms the World Trade Organization used to rule against a successful clean energy program in Ontario which had created thousands of jobs. Similar regulations targeted a moratorium on fracking in Quebec. The Sierra Club says the TPP will impose further limits on government efforts to combat climate disruptions.

The agreement has already been signed by the Liberal government. If ratified by Parliament, it will give foreign corporations even greater powers to sue governments for billions over laws and policies they contend will limit their profits.

To me it is incomprehensible that corporations will be able to challenge our environmental laws, not before a Canadian court, but before a tribunal of private lawyers. These 3 lawyers will not be accountable for their decisions and there will be no appeal process. They will have the power to order governments to pay firms for future profits they could have hypothetically earned if the protective policies were not in place.

Siphoning off of public funds is one way each of us will be impacted. It will ensure governments have even less resources to maintain our already stressed medical system, build schools, repair bridges and highways, and much more.

Government officials typically ignore concerns about threats to the environment, claiming there are provisions that protect against abuses. George Kahale III, chairman of the world’s leading legal arbitration firm says of the highly touted environmental safeguard in the pact, “the entire provision for protection of the environment is negated by 5 words in the middle. The supposed safeguard is actually much ado about nothing.” His firm has defended various governments in lawsuits by international corporations.

The TPP is all encompassing and includes much more than the environment. Many seniors and others in the Similkameen Valley will almost certainly be hit hard in their wallets when they go to renew their medical prescriptions. D G Shaw of the Indian Pharmaceutical Alliance says “generic drugs will come onto the market less quickly and patients will have to wait longer for affordable medications.” Also, pharmaceutical companies will be more able to sue governments over policies they don’t like. Even under existing rules, they are already doing this. At the federal level, the giant pharmaceutical company, Eli Lilly, currently has a lawsuit against the Canadian government for $500 million because Canadian courts invalidated its Zyprexa patent. One observer suggested this is “the shape of things to come.”

Jim Balsillie, former Co-CEO of RIM, believes “signing the deal could be Canada’s worst ever policy decision.” Professor Ariel Katz, law professor at the University of Toronto agrees. He warns that “ratifying the TPP would lock Canada into a deal that could not be modified even if issues surface down the road.” He asks, “why would anyone in their right mind do this?”

Especially in regard to the environment, I’m puzzled by the Liberal position. Justin Trudeau proudly announced at the Paris climate conference, “We’re back. We’re here to help.” But his statements indicate he may favour ratification of the TPP by Parliament. Is it the citizens of Canada he intends to help, or multinational corporations? The TPP will impact us. If we’re concerned about greedy corporations blackmailing and plundering Canada, now is the time to inform our PM and our representatives in Parliament.

Africa Experience Draws Couple Together

Doug & Michelle Nimchuk
Doug & Michelle Nimchuk

“We were still in the dating stage when Doug asked if I wanted to go to Africa with him,” Michelle told Linda and me recently. “I agreed immediately, but had no idea what I was getting into.”

I had invited Michelle and Doug Nimchuk to our home for tea. Valentine’s Day was approaching and I wanted the perspective of a couple that had progressed beyond the euphoria of a spicy romantic relationship. Listening to their account of travelling 13 months in Africa, I decided their story was worth telling.

Doug and Michelle are wonderfully different. He’s pragmatic and not given to hyperbole. In response to my question about early thoughts concerning Michelle he said, “she was pleasant.” Michelle is endowed with a delicate sprinkle of effervescence. “An ex-boyfriend introduced us,” she said. “Doug was handsome, very fit and he’d been to Asia for a year. Also, he owned a 2-seater sports car.” She reflected for a moment then continued with a smile, “He wasn’t a good dancer, but he liked to dance. I liked it that he was very attentive and wanted to dance only with me.”

They began their odyssey in Durban, South Africa, equipped with a tent, sleeping bags, mosquito netting, camp stove and other items. When I asked how they got along, Doug replied, “we got along fine.” Michelle’s recollection was less rosy. “We had a spat in Kenya. Doug wasn’t living up to my expectations. I told him I was leaving. Then I looked around. We were in wilderness.”

She paused for a moment, her face serious. “In Canada I’d probably have got in my car and left. That would have been the end of the relationship. In this wilderness though, it wouldn’t have been safe to leave. I began to understand that one of us would have to initiate dialogue to make this trip work. It wouldn’t be Doug.”

“Communication definitely wasn’t my strong area,” Doug admitted. It was intriguing to observe them now calmly sort out their at times differing memories.

“I began to vocalize the issues,” Michelle said. “I encouraged Doug to also talk.” They had learned some things about communication.

Michelle’s brother Darryl joined them in mid trip. In a remote area of Burundi they encountered a crises of another kind. “The people told us they had not seen a tourist in 2 years,” Doug said. “They urged us to leave because it was too dangerous.”

This advice proved correct when 3 men accosted them and grabbed for Doug and Darryl’s money belts. Doug thwarted one assailant physically, but received a hard head butt that broke his nose. Darryl’s belt was taken. It held his plane ticket and passport so he and Doug gave chase. Doug’s nose was bleeding profusely, but with the help of construction workers they did recover the money belt.

Still in Burundi, Doug contracted malaria and Darryl had a serious bout of diarrhea. Michelle nursed them back to health. Before they were out of Burundi, she came down with malaria. “The men weren’t as compassionate or attentive as I was when they were sick. I told them they were poor nurse maids.”

Back in Canada, they agreed the Africa experience had brought them closer together. “I felt we were compatible”, Michelle said, “and I was ready to get married.” But Doug, always wanting to get things right, needed more time.

Doug & Michelle today, still in love.
Doug & Michelle today,
still in love.

When they tied the knot a couple of years later, they continued to focus on communication. “We realized we’d been raised in very different families. In both cases, our parents stayed together, but through some difficult times,” Doug said. “We we were responding to troubling issues the way they had. We found a small neighbourhood church where we learned more productive strategies for dealing with disagreements.”

Today the Nimchuks have 4 children. Michelle is Assistant Director of Immersive Technologies at the Heritage Christian Online School. She is also a board member at the Hedley Grace Church. Doug drives school bus part time and does renovations as well. He has been chairman of the Hedley Improvement District and is a firefighter and first responder with the Hedley Fire Department.

At the end Michelle said, “ I wouldn’t recommend 13 months in Africa to test a relationship. For us it worked though.”

 

Protecting the Dream in Cawston

Corey Brown, an organic farmer in Cawston, BC
Corey Brown, an organic farmer in Cawston, BC

It is common for “creatures of the city” to dream of buying a few acres in the country and settling into a peaceful, idyllic life. For Corey and Colleen Brown, the dream became a reality 11 years ago when they gave up the comforts and amenities of Victoria and bought just over 5 acres in Cawston. Since then they have become aware they must join with others in preserving the dream for themselves, their children, and fellow residents of the Similkameen Valley.

Colleen, a Dietitian, was at work when Linda and I visited the farm last week. “We wanted to raise our children in the country,” Corey said to explain their move here. “Also, I wanted to farm. It’s fortunate we came when prices were still low.”

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Walking about the spacious domain of his 99 contented, clucking chickens and listening to Corey, it was easy to mistakenly conclude he is simply one more farmer passionate about his small scale operation. Certainly he is passionate and credits neighbour Moses Brown (no relation) for helping him get started in organic farming. People are eager to buy the eggs. In summer he also raises up to 500 broilers. From Harry Jones, former owner of Iceberg Meats, he learned the art of humanely slaughtering chickens. Interestingly, he was once a committed vegetarian. Currently he is involved with several organic farming organizations and vice president of the Penticton Farmers Market.

Sitting at the kitchen table of their comfortable home, another of Corey’s passions began to emerge, hesitantly at first. He doesn’t like to draw attention to himself.

“I’m deeply involved in the organic scene,” he said, “but I realize one day my 2 children may ask what I did about issues like pollution in the Similkameen River. I want to have an answer for them.” He paused for a moment, then continued, “I want to work with others to create an awareness of the threats facing our community and the entire valley. I feel people need to realize if we’re not involved, we’ll be sold out. Too often people aren’t interested until they understand an issue will impact them personally. It’s important to help them make that connection.”

To this end, under the auspices of “Similkameen Okanagan Organic Producers Association” he recently showed a Naomi Klein documentary film in Cawston. Klein has authored several books, including “This Changes Everything: Capitalism vs. the Climate”. He had expected younger people in the audience, but it was mostly Boomers who came. “I did it because I wanted people to be up to date with what’s happening.”

Corey expresses his views with clarity and vigour in conversation, but he’s reluctant to speak in public. “Sometimes after saying something in a meeting, I feel that I didn’t get it right. Then I think I should have remained quiet.”

He realizes though that if people remain silent, “the world will roll over us. We need to push against the boundaries that hold us back.”
He works with others to help people make the connection between their own lives and the destructive forces at work in their community and the larger society. He seems to understand intuitively the words of author John C. Maxwell who has said, “one is too small a number to achieve great things.”

On February 29, from 6 to 9 pm, Friends of the Similkameen River will sponsor a public forum at the Cawston Hall. “It will be a night about water in our valley,” he said.

Sometimes people ask how he continues to be positive when it’s so dark. “I tell them to do some thing,” he said. “If a lot of us do something, we can make things happen. I feel there is a vast grass roots movement around the world.”

Corey views himself simply as one of many seeking to produce positive outcomes in Cawston and the entire Similkameen Valley. He is quick to express gratitude for the encouragement he has received from organic growers and others advocating for the environment and healthy communities. “There’s a core of hard working people in the valley,” he said at the end. “When I’m involved with them, I feel like I’m accomplishing something important. Colleen and I know we must do our part to keep the dream alive for ourselves and others.”

Former Prison Guard At Peace In Hedley

Observing Frank Schroeder and his chocolate brown Standard

Frank & his loyal friend, Teddy
Frank & his loyal friend, Teddy

Poodle on the streets of Hedley, it would be impossible to guess where he has been or what he has seen. His stature has been reduced 4 inches due to a curvature of the spine caused by osteoporosis. He and Teddy present such a peaceful picture it’s unlikely anyone would think he had once been a gun carrying guard at the B.C. Penitentiary.

“Although the prison system was already changing during my 5 years at the Penn, many of the old line guards were still present,” he said. “They revelled in telling us how things were done in the past, especially the floggings.”

He recalls vividly the incident in which Mary Steinhauser, a prison counsellor was taken hostage by inmates. “Those guys were brutal”, he said. “I knew Mary, she sometimes sat at the dinner table with me. When the guards rushed in to end the standoff, they shot her.” She was liked and respected by the inmates and it was widely believed by them the guards deliberately targeted her. Frank doesn’t agree with this view.

After 5 years at the Penn, he was transferred to Matsqui Institution. For three years he did night duty in one of the towers overlooking the prison fences. He was expected to shoot in event of a break out or riot. An experienced hunter, he was familiar with a variety of firearms, but he never shot at a prisoner. For the last 2 years of prison work he was a Living Unit Officer and this offered an opportunity to make a positive difference in some inmates. “I took one of the men skiing,” he said. “He was doing time for murder and had been in prison for years. I taught him to ski. I also taught him how to order a cup of coffee in a restaurant. After a year I could trust him to ski alone.” Years later, while camping in a remote area of B.C. he met the man. He was working in forestry.

“Wearing the uniform hardens you,” he said. “I didn’t care for the atmosphere so I took a real estate course on the side. On April 30th, 1977 I took the uniform off for the last time and put the prison system behind me. On May 1st I began selling real estate.”

It wasn’t Frank’s dream job. He wished he’d been able to get a university education and become a meteorologist. Family responsibilities had made this impossible. He doesn’t complain, though. “I made a pile of money,” he told me, “and after 4 years I took time off to do some things I loved.” He travelled, hunted, fished, and built a house at Lone Butte. A workaholic, he had for some years run a renovation, gardening, landscaping business on the side. Building a house was not a problem. He also earned a brokerage licence and in time opened offices in Lone Butte and 100 Mile House.

The osteoporosis struck him in 2002, but Frank hasn’t allowed it to IMG_2227dampen his zest for experience and adventure. During the years away from real estate, he met Richard Canning, Director of the Canadian Bird Count. Canning is an author and a prominent authority on birds. Frank considers himself lucky to have done a number of bird counts with him since their meeting.

“My first encounter with birds actually happened when I was age 6,” he recalls. “I taught a young swallow to fly. The parents were furious and dived at me repeatedly. It scared me.” To date he has spotted 340 different birds and says, “I’m totally hooked on birding.” He doesn’t have a favourite bird. “If it wears feathers, it can come on my yard any time, in any number.” Teddy, his faithful companion, shares his enthusiasm. Seeing Frank look through his field glasses, Teddy sits beside him patiently and looks too. “Sometimes Teddy notices a bird first,” Frank said.

 

The man and dog have a special friendship. Both are congenial, but

Teddy
Teddy

in different ways. Frank is calm and steady. Teddy’s tail wags a lot.

Recently Teddy was seriously ill and Frank took him to a vet. When he was told his good friend might not survive the night, Frank slept in the kennel with him. Compassionate and caring, this former prison guard is a good addition to our peaceful little community.

A small town perspective on people, community, politics and environment.