Monthly Archives: September 2020

Issues

Is This Our Future?

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“BC wakes up to smoke filled skies.” (photo BC Wildfire Service)


Travelling to the coast on the most serious smoke day a couple of weeks ago, I was surprised at the scarcity of vehicles going west. Equally surprising was the incessant flow in the east bound lane. Was everyone in Vancouver leaving due to the dense smoke? I was reminded of rats scurrying from a ship about to sink.

In Abbotsford the smoke hung like a thick, virtually impenetrable shroud over the city. Wanting to walk after several hours of constant sitting, I donned a mask and ventured out into this world of grey. We were staying with Linda’s Mom who lives in a 55 plus complex. Usually I encounter seniors walking their miniature versions of man’s best friend. Their pace is invariably interrupted by myriad inspections of hydrants and other sources of alluring aromas. On this day the streets were bereft of these elderly walkers. They weren’t willing to endanger their own health or that of their little companions. Overnight, the world had become unsafe.

It’s well known that the smoke came to us courtesy of our neighbours south of the 49th Parallel. Most environmental specialists believe the fires in California, Oregon and Washington are increasing in frequency and ferocity due to global warming, much of it caused by humans. I told my friend Howie about our experience with the smoke. I also somewhat unthinkingly mentioned that Linda and I restrict our driving because we don’t want to burden Mother Earth with more toxins.

Howie is a committed curmudgeon, an ardent admirer of Donald Trump’s views, and invariably ready with a diatribe against any suggestion individuals can take action to protect the environment. Howie coughed several times, sputtered with indignation and said, “don’t you know there are millions of cars in the world? Think of the hordes of people in China and India who drive cars.” He snorted his derision and said, “anything you do won’t make a difference. Besides, there was global warming thousands of years ago. You need to read history.”

Some prominent world leaders harbour similar views. In Brazil huge swaths of wetlands are currently on fire. Thousands of animals, including jaguars, deer, monkeys, reptiles and serpents have been burned or displaced. In some areas many thousands of birds are falling from the sky. Even so, President Bolsonaro has weakened environmental protection. He claims reports of environmental degradation in Brazil are a lie.

The Australian fires have received extensive media attention, but fires in other places like Siberia and Argentina are receiving only scant coverage. In Canada we witnessed significant devastation from the Fort McMurray and Kelowna fires, but now that they are out, our focus has again shifted to personal pursuits. When a crisis is over, it’s easy to forget and become complacent.

Although I believe Howie views environmental history through a biased lens, he’s correct in urging me to look at past catastrophes. In “Collapse,” Jared Diamond cites numerous examples of societies whose activities devastated their environment and way of life. “Easter Island is a clear example of a society destroying itself by the over exploitation of resources,” he states. “They cut down all the trees on the island and no longer had wood for fires to keep warm, cook food, or construct canoes for fishing and trading. In time rats were the only source of wild food.”

Growing up in Abbotsford, my friends and I had no inkling such a future was possible. We roamed in the woods, drank from the streams, and never detected foul odours in the air, except near farms. Eight years ago Linda and I moved from there because the air had become unhealthy and unpleasant. In some mega cities the air has become dangerously polluted and citizens need to wear masks to survive.

According to the Climate Clock in Manhattan’s Union Square, humans have about 7 years to change course. After that the damage to the planet will be irreversible. We should expect that in time, the devastation may reach even into the Similkameen Valley. Thinking back now to the dense smoke and unpleasant air in Abbotsford, I wonder, “Is this our future?”

In spite of my curmudgeon friend’s scorn, I believe each of us can do something to protect our planet and ourselves. David Miller of the World Wild Life Federation put it succinctly when he advised us to “take care of nature, so nature can take care of us.”

Drone photo of a river in an area devastated by forest fires. (Photo: EPA)
Inspiration, People

Grant Warwick, An Imperfect Hero

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The 3 Warwick brothers (left to right) Grant, Dick and Billy. They did play as a line on occasion, but often were split up. (photo supplied by Ivan McClelland).

Sitting in the sun room of our home in Hedley, Ivan McClelland shared a deeply personal account of his relationship with Grant Warwick, player coach of the 1955 World Champion Penticton Vees. “When Grant arrived I was only 21, playing goalie for the Vees,” Ivan recalled. “I knew he had played in the NHL and could do amazing things on the ice. He had been named Rookie of the Year with the New York Rangers, played on an NHL All Star team and won numerous other awards. I was in total awe of him and didn’t speak to him, unless he spoke to me first. I also knew he had been sent down to the minors because of his troubling, free spirited lifestyle. While playing for New York, and also Montreal, he had sometimes disappeared into the city for days and no one knew where he was.”

Prior to his career in the NHL Warwick had been a gifted boxer, endowed with an exceptionally strong upper body. Ivan described him as tough minded, a player who could fight if he needed to. “In spite of his great talent, after about 11 years the people in control of hockey considered him damaged goods, washed up,” Ivan remembered. “They were glad to be rid of him, but I had seen what he could accomplish on the ice. When he became player coach of the Vees, he didn’t make speeches in the dressing room, he led by example. On the ice he dominated and in his first year with the team, he took us to the national championships, where we lost to Kitchener.”

Grant’s brothers, Billy and Dick, were also on the Vees roster. “Billy looked after Grant when he stepped outside the traces,” Ivan said. “He ensured Grant got home safely after a night of partying.”

In 1954 Grant seemed to get a hold of his life. There was no alcohol and his brilliance again became evident. That year he took the Vees to the National Championship where they defeated Sudbury. This qualified them to represent Canada in the World Hockey Championship in Germany the following year.

Canada’s hockey moguls now came to Grant and said, “You’ve got a bunch of inexperienced kids and over the hill pros. We’re going to give you 5 top NHL players, including Rocket Richard and Jean Beliveau. Also, we want you to take out Ivan McLelland and put Harry Lumley in goal.” The pressure was intense, but Grant refused.

In retrospect, it’s evident a special relationship was developing between this veteran player coach and his young goalie. Unlike many net- minders, who wax hot and cold, Ivan had proved to be consistent in temperament and play. In the dressing room he was given a seat next to Grant. Possibly Warwick drew strength from his calm demeanor.

In Germany, at the World Championship the following year, sports writers criticized Warwick relentlessly for bringing “a weak team.” Remarkably, the Vees won the first four games, against teams Ivan considered more skilled and experienced.

For Warwick the pressure became overwhelming. After the fourth game he disappeared into the night. He spent the next day, Saturday, in his room recovering from intense partying. Not physically ready to play against the Soviets on Sunday, he did only a few shifts. Even so, the Vees routed the Soviets 5-0 and were crowned World Champions.

“Later, in the bus returning to Dusseldorf,” Ivan recalled, “Grant was sitting alone at the front. The players were celebrating at the rear. No one spoke to him.”

Ivan moved up to sit beside him. “I’m sorry I let you down, ” Grant said.

“We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you,” Ivan replied.

For Grant Warwick, it was the end of his hockey career. His life deteriorated and for about 10 years he lived on the streets of Edmonton. He remembered his goalie though. Every year at Christmas he phoned Ivan, still calling him “kid” as he always had.

Then his circumstances changed. In one Christmas call he said, “I found the Lord. I don’t go to church, but my life is totally changed. The Lord is giving me strength.” He was now helping others who were less fortunate.

In their final phone call, when Grant was about to die, Ivan said, “How are you approaching this?” Grant replied, “It’s going to be wonderful.” Then he surprised Ivan with the words, “I love you.”

“He was a good man,” Ivan said, “an imperfect hero.”

My Story, Societal Issues

Learning From My Grandpa Funk

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“Skinny, haggard men were incessantly on the move.” (photo shorpy.com)

In a world of unending grasping for more, I’m heartened by individuals who stand by people with serious needs. After writing recently about Bill Carmichael and Trisha Mills and their efforts to rebuild their lives, I received several notes from readers. They wanted to know if the gofundme site is still open for donations. I was able to assure them they can still give. (https;//www.gofundme.com/f/the-hitching-post-fire/donate).

This desire to encourage and bless people they don’t know caused me to ponder on memories from my childhood years when we lived in Barkfield, Manitoba, a remote, rural community. The land in this area produced mostly scrub brush and poor quality grass. It was a small settlement consisting mostly of two families, the Funks and the Martens.

Too insignificant to be shown on a map, Barkfield had one general store with limited stock. A deeply rutted, poorly maintained dirt road, connecting Steinbach and Grunthal, ran through the community. In winter snow drifts and howling prairie winds often made the road virtually invisible and impassable. Spring rains deepened the ruts and created large mud holes. At that time horses, wagons, buggies and sleighs were still more common than motorized vehicles.

My most vivid memories of this time and place are of my Mom’s family, the Funk’s. Tight knit, energetic and extremely self reliant, they stayed on when others left to seek a milder climate and more promising financial circumstances.

It is Grandpa Funk whose life still stirs me to consider what is truly important. He and Grandma were descendents of Mennonite immigrants who fled from Ukraine to Canada in the 1870’s to escape religious persecution. They brought 13 children into the world, seven boys and six girls. It was a simple, difficult time and parents had little opportunity or inclination to concoct unique names. The boys were given names like Peter, David and Henry.

Grandpa was a stocky, physically robust man. He took the boys into the bush and taught them to use axes, saws and guns. They made firewood which was taken to Winnipeg and sold. The girls, with names like Agatha, Betty and Mary, learned to dig in the bush for medicinal roots, which were also sold. In their teen years, the offspring sometimes found work on neighbouring farms to augment the family income. There was money only for necessities like flour, sugar, coffee and coal oil. Grandma and the girls planted and tended a huge garden. There were chickens for meat and eggs, a few cows provided milk. In fall they slaughtered a hog and utilized every part, including the head and hocks.

Even though every dollar came with sweat, determination, and a large measure of endurance, Grandpa and Grandma Funk were endowed with a streak of generosity. My mother frequently talked about people coming to their door looking for a meal. Especially in the Great Depression, skinny, haggard men were incessantly on the move, desperately seeking employment. Often they were on foot, going from one town to another. When the knock came, Grandpa invariably offered the weary straggler a meal and a place to sleep.

Mother particularly liked to tell us about Philippe, a travelling seller of wares. A large jolly man with a bushy beard and black patch over one eye, he lived in St. Malo, a predominantly French Canadian community. In winter he couldn’t travel fast in the deep snow. Sometimes darkness had set in when he knocked on the door of the Funk family home. Grandpa always welcomed him warmly. He would say to his sons, “boys, Philippe will stay the night with us. Put his horses in the barn, give them feed and water, and rub them down.” Although the Funk family communicated mostly in Low German, a dialect passed down to them by their ancestors, the two men came to understand and respect each other. In spite of the family’s sparse circumstances, Philippe was always given a hearty meal.

In this time when covid 19 is producing financial and emotional havoc in many homes, I find myself thinking of my grandparents. They didn’t expect the government or some charitable organization to fix things. They were grateful for what they had, and willingly shared from their limited means. To me it seems they experienced a sense of purpose, fulfillment and joy. These can be had more readily by sharing than by grasping for more.

Fiction

A Stimulating Diversion

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Art Martens finds this John Grisham novel a “stimulating diversion.”

To divert my mind from several thorny personal issues this summer, I again read John Grisham’s The Rainmaker. The story of an epic David and Goliath legal battle between Rudy Baylor and the smug, high priced lawyers representing Great Benefit Life, it reveals the corrupt underbelly of the life insurance industry. Superbly written, the plot offers surprising twists and turns, and strong memorable characters.

Fresh out of law school, penniless, threatened with a lawsuit and about to be evicted from his apartment, Rudy has just been fired from his promised first job due to a merger with a large firm. Although he feels ill-prepared, he agrees to represent Dot Black and her son Donny Ray against Great Benefit, a mammoth company with vast resources. Donny Ray has been refused coverage for a bone marrow transplant which would keep him alive.

While researching for the impending legal battle with Great Benefit, Rudy is also scouring the city for a position as a lawyer. There is nothing and he explains his predicament to Prince Thomas, owner of Yogi’s, the bar he has worked at for minimum wage the past 3 years. Rudy’s description of Prince reveals a dark, secretive side. “He’s rumored to be in the skin business,” Rudy tells us. “His alleged partners have criminal records. The city has sued him, and he loves it.”

Prince introduces Rudy to his closest friend and ally, Bruiser Stone, a lawyer with an equally unsavoury reputation. In Bruiser’s office, Prince points to a large aquarium and says, “those are real miniature sharks.” When the phone rings, Bruiser speaks in the rapid clip of a man who knows his phones are tapped. He offers Rudy a job in his firm, but emphasizes he will need to find his own clients. Having no other options, Rudy reluctantly accepts. “I’ve been reduced to a vulture in hospital cafeterias,” he observes.

In the midst of personal turmoil, Rudy prepares diligently for the case against Great Benefit. When he visits the Blacks to obtain signatures, Dot’s husband Buddy refuses to meet him. A chain-smoker, Dot lights a cigarette and points to a car parked in weeds in the back yard. “He sits in the Fairlane all day, every day. He’s not right in the head you know.” She takes the document to the car and compels Buddy to sign.

Returning to the house, she tells Rudy of her fight with Great Benefit. “I bought the policy 5 years ago. Never missed a premium, and never used the damned thing until Donny Ray got sick. He needs a bone mare transplant and his twin brother Ron is a perfect match. It costs around a hundred-fifty thousand. It’s covered in the policy, but the insurance company says no. So Donny Ray’s dying because of them. Please hurry, he doesn’t have much time.”

Bruiser Stone had promised Rudy he would represent the Blacks in court. On the first day of the trial though, he fails to show. The Feds have been investigating him and Prince for their various nefarious business enterprises, and they’re closing in. Feeling the heat, the two men have disappeared. Rudy quickly decides he will argue the case himself.

Sitting at his table in the courtroom alone with Deck, his paralegal somewhere behind him, he asks himself, “do I know what I’m doing? I’ve never said a word to a jury.” He’s very aware that Leo Drummond, leader of the defense team, is a masterful litigator. He and the other four lawyers have 58 years experience between them. Smug in their own superiority, they view him with disdain.

Initially Drummond seeks to stall the proceedings, hoping Donny Ray will die before his deposition. He doesn’t want the jury to see his weathered face or hear his weak voice. Rudy discovers that the company has fired key employees to prevent them from testifying. He also discloses that the section instructing employees to deny virtually all claims has been removed by the company from the manual it provided to him.

At the end, the jury agrees with Rudy that Great Life’s reasons for rejecting the claim are frivolous and fraudulent. Due to a surprising development though, Dot never collects a dime. Even so, she feels vindicated and expresses great delight at having prevailed against “them sumbitches.” And in winning a huge court case, Rudy becomes what in legal parlance is known as a Rainmaker. A stimulating diversion.