All posts by Art Martens

Inspiration

Lessons Of The Hatfield McCoy Feud

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Hatfield Clan in 1897 (wikipedia)

I was astonished and perplexed recently when I learned that two ladies I know have not spoken to each other for 20 years. Both are respected and well liked, contributing members of their community. Although by no means as serious, their fractured relationship reminded me of the infamous Hatfield-McCoy feud in the U.S. Appalachian region.

The latter dispute is believed to have been instigated by a pretty minor matter, the alleged theft of a pig owned by a McCoy. Curious as to the dynamics underlying longstanding disputes between people, I felt prompted to delve into the circumstances of the Hatfield-McCoy clash.

I learned that the 2 clans lived on opposite sides of the Tug Fork, a stream running along the border between West Virginia, where the Hatfields lived, and Kentucky, home of the McCoys.

Although other factors, like land disputes and differences of opinion concerning the Civil War may have played a role in the feud, the initial catalyst is believed to have been the pig matter. In 1878 a McCoy claimed to have seen the missing hog on a Hatfield property. The case went to court in West Virginia and the Hatfield won. Known for volatile tempers, the McCoys over reacted. Their anger smouldered for several years. They didn’t forget.

In 1882 a brawl erupted between members of the families and Ellison Hatfield was mortally shot by a McCoy. From there the feud escalated. Seeking revenge, the Hatfields kidnapped and executed 3 McCoy brothers. After that the two families repeatedly ambushed and killed one another. In 1888 a group of Hatfields attacked the home of Patriarch Rand’l McCoy, shooting his son and daughter and burning the family homes.

The McCoys, led by a Kentucky deputy sheriff, made several raids into West Virginia and and killed 4 Hatfields. They arrested 9 more and the case went to the U.S. Supreme Court. In what seems like skewed justice, nine Hatfields were sent to prison, seven with life sentences. One was subsequently hanged.

The feuding continued into the 1890’s, but in time the families apparently decided the price of revenge was exacting a toll they were no longer able to bear. Possibly wiser leaders prevailed. In 1944, Life Magazine showed the families getting along amicably.

It’s difficult to imagine a feud of this magnitude here in the Similkameen Valley, or anywhere in Canada. Occasionally though, we do hear of individuals taking a perceived slight or disagreement so seriously they never speak to each other again. This is particularly tragic when the falling out is between family members.

When I was chairman of a strata council, one member regularly picked fights with our property manager. Gregory repeatedly demanded expenditures that would decimate our contingency reserve fund. I agreed with the property manager and Gregory added me to his most despised list. An avid fan of the internet, he plied council members with messages about my various failings. In time, the unrelenting torrent of abusive e-mails began niggling deep within me and I realized they were influencing my thinking about him.

Fearing the erosion of my sense of fair play, I called him in the hope we could have a constructive discussion and learn to work together. Almost immediately, I realized Gregory had deemed me irrevocably guilty and was unwilling to move beyond this decision. At the end of that year I resigned, wanting someone untainted in Gregory’s mind to take the helm.

Unfortunately Gregory passed away 6 months later and I did not have another opportunity to mend that fence. He wasn’t a bad person and in retrospect I realize the outcome could almost certainly have been more positive. I really should have reached out to him before the negative thoughts had become set in mental concrete.

Reach out before mental images get set in mental concrete. (photobucket image)

Experience over many years has convinced me that when we harbour resentment and shut people out, we become depleted at a deep level. Refusing to seek reconciliation suggests encrusted thinking.

Even the Hatfields and McCoys eventually learned to be friends. They now enjoy a joint family picnic on the second weekend of each June. There are skits, home cooked meals, musical events and a good natured tug of war across the Tug Fork.

For reconciliation to begin, one individual needs to reach out. Such attempts will not always be successful, but my experience with Gregory suggests it’s best to seek healing before the anger festers. Theft of a hog need not cause a feud.

Hedley Times

Hedley Museum Set To Open

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Linda Martens, president, cleaning in the kitchen.

When Linda was nominated 2 years ago for the position of vice president of the Hedley Historical Museum, she agreed to let her name stand. She said I’m willing to be vice president, but I’ll never be president. At the AGM a year later that scenario was repeated. Then Jean Robinson, the energetic president decided she wouldn’t run again this year.

No one was willing to accept the responsibility and the future of the Museum was in jeopardy. Some suggested the organization temporarily close its doors and take a Sabbatical. Linda felt that if this was done, restarting would be more difficult than carrying on. She agreed to be president for one year.

Several members of the executive had worked hard for several years and wanted a break. Linda wasn’t sure she would be able to find replacements. Fortunately, Debra Pearson, who is new in Hedley, accepted the position of vice president and has been a willing and enthusiastic partner for Linda. Ruth Woodin, who recently retired as Hedley Post Master, agreed to be secretary. Margaret Skaar, the society’s astute treasurer, is staying on.

Currently they are advertising for volunteers who will be on duty at the Museum one or more days per week. An honorarium is available for these positions. They are also inviting applications for 2 student positions for the summer months. These will be funded by the federal government.

On this day, Diane Poitras cheerfully cleaned the deck tables & chairs.

For several weeks volunteers have been showing up at the Museum to repair, paint, clean, and organize.  (Unfortunately, a number of them were not photographed.)

Bill Rube (front) & Frank Schroeder working on the ramp railing.

For the past 2 years the Museum Tea Room has served coffee, tea, pop, and delicious home made pies. This year local resident Margaret King will again supply lemon meringue pies. Handcrafted items by local artisans will be on display and for sale.

Opening day will be May 4, 2018, 10:00 am to 4:00 pm. On May 26 the Museum will celebrate Stamp Mill Day. Until the supply of gold was exhausted, the stamps could be heard day and night, crushing the ore. It was located on the ridge overlooking Hedley. Stamp Mill Day will feature a $5.00 pancake breakfast at the Seniors’ Centre and a noon meal of beef on a bun and salads at the Museum. Entertainment will be provided by popular blue grass musicians, George Huber and Colleen Cox.

Watch for other special events throughout the summer. You are welcome!

Hedley Times

Volkswagens Challenge Hedley Men

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These two 1967 Volkswagens were parked on this yard for many years. (photo by Christine Cummings)

It seemed the two unkempt 1967 Volkswagens had always been on our neighbour’s yard, parked one behind the other. Discarded relics from a time when they had enjoyed respect for their simplicity of technology and innovative body design, here in Hedley they had escaped the ignominious fate of most vehicles from their era. The front Beetle was undeniably red, but the second had faded over the many years and it may once have been a pale blue. Not that the colours mattered now. Tom, the earlier owner had imported them to his yard and then seemed to have lost interest After he passed on, I thought they would remain there until they rusted into oblivion or were towed away for scrap.

Then Tim arrived from Ladner and learned they were for sale. “I’ve travelled through this valley many times,” he told me. “I’ve had my eye on these cars for almost 20 years.” According to Christine and Doug, who now own the property and come for occasional weekends, the VW’s have sat idle on the lot for 25 years. Tim didn’t hesitate to buy them. Evidently it’s a case of what one person deems to be junk, another considers a treasure.

Richard (left), Doug (right), having a well earned cup of coffee after clearing a path – removed fence and large stumps – in order to pull the Volkswagens out of the yard. (Photo by Christine Cummings)

On the day the two “treasures” were to be moved, Tim turned up with a 24 foot UHaul. His intention was to load the vehicles into the van, a plan that likely would have caused him immense grief if he’d had to do it on his own. Fortunately, a half dozen sturdy, pragmatic Hedley men saw an opportunity to pit their brains and brawn against what would prove to be an almost intractable challenge. An appreciative audience of local citizens quickly assembled, sensing this would test the mettle of their men.

The pale blue car would particularly tax their wits and ingenuity. Attempting to push it, they discovered that the wheels on one side had rusted firmly in place and refused to turn. Tim and the Home Team were able to manhandle the Beetle to the rear of the van. They then used the hydraulic tailgate on a locally owned 3 ton truck to hoist the back end of the car. With great collective confidence and undoubtedly a generous measure of hutzpah, they then attempted to manually lift the front end of the VW, intending to slide it up a ramp and into the van. Plenty of heaving, straining and grunting could not induce the cranky little car to budge, however.

For the most part, these are men in retirement and they wisely decided there must be a method less hazardous to their health. They were a gungho lot but they didn’t intend to sacrifice their backs to this venture. They paused to consult among themselves. Coming from various employment backgrounds, each man brought a different understanding of potentially successful strategies. Ideas were also offered by onlookers, but these were studiously ignored. They already had enough radical suggestions from within their own ranks. Amazingly, neither their energy or their will faltered. They had come upon a challenge that fascinated them and they were confident that by working together they would get the job done.

It took ingenuity, skill, teamwork & effort to get the Volkswagen this far. (photo by Dian McKusick)

Using a hydraulic jack, they were able to slip a sturdy dolly under the front of the car. With the wheels of the dolly on the ramp, the 3 ton truck began to back up, pushing the VW partially into the opening of the U-Haul. Then, puffing and shoving, the men coerced the car completely into the box of the truck. The audience clapped and cheered.

The red VW proved less obstinate. Not having a motor, it was lighter, plus all wheels turned. It was now at least 2 hours since the beginning of the show, but the audience had remained. There were more cheers for the hard breathing men.

With no motor & all wheels turning, the red Volkswagen was easier. (photo by Dian McCusick).

When I asked Tim about the cost of this project and what his plans were for the Volkswagens, he said, “By the time I get them to Ladner, I’ll have invested about $5000. I plan to restore them. That’s what I do. It’s my business. I’ll drive them but they will be for sale. When the work is done, I’ll drive one of them here.”

It was a tremendous team effort, with some high drama. Tim, obviously pleased, provided beer and pizza for his dedicated crew. A victory speech by him would have been in order.

Hedley Times, People

Plum Ketchup Brings Couple To Hedley

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Terry & Valerie in their renovated home in Hedley.

Terry Leonard and Valerie Beckman were seeking a source of plums for their ketchup enterprise when they decided to turn off the highway into Hedley five years ago. It was a decision that would alter the course of their lives. “There was a street dance in the evening and we thought that was pretty cool,” Terry said. “We danced, then stayed the night at Coral’s Cabins. The next morning we returned for breakfast.”

Noticing a “for sale” sign on the neglected, vacant motel at the corner of Scott and Haynes, they called a realtor. “It was on the main street,” Terry explained, “and there was plenty of space to expand for business. We saw possibilities.” Their capacity to see potential in that long deserted structure suggests a pretty far reaching ability to visualize what the future could look like. Certainly no one living in Hedley at the time considered the motel more than a tear down. A lesson in the importance of mind set?

Walking through what they have turned into comfortable living quarters, Linda and I marveled at their ingenuity, vision and skill. They are both artists and their creations adorn every wall. “We arranged the space around our furniture,” Valerie told us. We understood when she added, “I feel like I’m given a big hug every time I come into our home.”

Valerie, at their front door.

We stepped outside, crossed a miniature courtyard, where Terry led us up a set of stairs so narrow a CFL line backer would likely not be able to ascend. At the top we were surprised by a small, secluded rooftop hideaway. It’s a peaceful space ideal for reading a book with coffee in hand, indulging in an afternoon siesta, or contemplating the sky overhead.

Terry & Valerie on their rooftop hideaway.

Terry and Valerie both arrived in Hedley with a breadth of experience that no doubt gave them an expanded perspective on the universe. Valerie was born in North London, England. When she was young, her family spent time in Italy each year, exploring the country. Their car was flown over on a Bristol Cutter airplane. Sometime after arriving in Canada with her family in the late 1970’s, she and her boyfriend joined another couple to buy a Volkswagen van and toured Europe. She later married the boyfriend, had 2 children with him, and then realized this was not the right man.

Terry’s father was in the Air Force so the family’s numerous moves enabled him to see every province. One of his most memorable experiences after leaving home was a month on Baffin Island. “The government gave me a grant to do painting. I had seen a lot in the Air Force, but nothing to compare with Baffin Island. I arrived in the middle of summer, and the ice was just breaking up. To me it felt like winter, but the children were happy in t-shirts. It was like God had taken a handful of rocks and strewn them all over the island. The colour purple was predominant. I hired a small boat to see the icebergs, but we couldn’t get real close. Sometimes they flip over. I sold all the paintings from that project.”

The plum ketchup enterprise which brought them to Hedley 5 years ago is now in production. They’ve built an addition which houses a commercial kitchen approved by Interior Health. Creating a business venture with the ketchup was actually the brainchild of Valerie’s son, Nathan. He is a business partner and deeply involved.

Terry explaining how the “pulper” works.

“The kitchen is an exciting piece of the puzzle,” Terry said. “We’re seeing the potential come to fruition.”

What is their perception of Hedley? “Hedley doesn’t look the same as larger centres,” Valerie noted. “When you look around, you don’t see signs advertising Canadian Tire, Tim Horton’s or Walmart. Also, we have a lot of interaction with people.”

Terry nodded agreement. “There is a sense of community here. Having moved around so much when I was a kid, I craved that.”

Valerie & Terry in a private, back courtyard.

Terry and Valerie first met when he was renovating a building where she worked as a medical office assistant. Since then they have experienced numerous positive changes. One of the most important and satisfying occurred two weeks ago when they were formally engaged. “Since meeting Terry,” Valerie said, proudly showing her ring, “there have been a lot of adventures. He has totally enriched my life.” Terry’s broad smile made it clear she has enriched his life too.

Hedley Times, People

Singing Postmaster Retires

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Cake for singing Postmaster, Ruth Woodin

Ruth Woodin may still sing in her shower at home, but she won’t be singing in the Hedley Post Office anymore. After 25 years behind the counter providing advice and cheer along with stamps and mail, she retired just over a week ago. Her outgoing personality, combined with wit and a no nonsense response to occasional cranky customers, made her an ideal Postmaster for this rural community.

Postmaster Ruth Woodin

“I stayed past retirement age because I loved the job and the people,” she said. “Also, I wanted to pay off my mortgage and buy a new car.” Because her postal career began as part-time and then as acting Postmaster, she didn’t quite match the record of T.C. Knowles. Knowles was a local World War II hero and served as Postmaster from 1936 to 1958. “I feel good about letting him have the record,” she said.

Reflecting on the years she told me, “It’s like yesterday I started on the job and now it’s over. Sometimes I felt like a bartender. A lot of people came to me with their problems. One woman told me she had discovered her husband in bed with a stepdaughter. Tears began trickling down her cheeks as she talked. I opened the gate in the counter and put my arms around her. She moved out of town, but a couple of years later I received a thank you note from her.”

There were also miserable customers. “When I saw them on the street, I hoped they wouldn’t come in. For some time there was a woman who complained about everything I did. Sometimes she yelled. She wondered who had trained me. In her mind, everything I did was wrong. After some years though, she mellowed and started coming in to chat. On special occasions she brought me cards and flowers. Now she is a friend.”

One customer accused Ruth and her assistant of steaming open mail and reading it. He also said they were hiding mail. “That would have been foolish. We would have endangered our jobs.”

Lost keys at times provided a touch of hilarity. “One customer said his dog had eaten a 2” by 2” piece of wood to which his mail key had been attached. It took 4 days for the key to pass through the dog’s system and reappear.”

Ruth didn’t open the gate in her counter only to console. Sometimes she hugged a customer who had shared a significant experience. “I did get a little carried away occasionally,” she admitted with a chuckle. “I sometimes chatted with the Greyhound driver who stopped regularly at the Country Market. Just before Christmas one year I spontaneously threw my arms around him and wished him a Merry Christmas. Then it occurred to me I hardly knew this man. It surprised me I had done this. I’m sure he wondered what that was all about.”

Because Ruth handled all mail, she knew the people. “The Mounties sometimes wondered if I knew a person they were attempting to locate. I told them I know everyone in town. If I don’t know them, they don’t live here.”

Along the way Ruth has been deeply involved in the community. “The celebration of Hedley’s 100 years was a great event. I was on the planning committee and responsible for organizing the parade. I got lots of help. It was our best parade ever.”

Her enthusiasm was evident as she recounted the participation of Similkameen communities. “The Princeton Rodeo sent a stage coach. The Princeton Marching Band came. Keremeos sent 5 really ancient tractors. Men on horseback and ladies in elaborate regalia came from the Lower Similkameen Indian Band.”

What will Ruth do now that she doesn’t need to show up at the post office each week day morning? “I’ll do jigsaw puzzles and walk more. Also, I hold several positions in town including secretary of the Museum Society.”

She has travelled extensively and has plans for more. “I’ve put my name in for a cruise down the Mississippi River,” she said. When I remarked that Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer had done this many years ago, she replied, “We better not be on a raft.”

Ruth Woodin holds up a gift: replica of post office birdhouse crafted by Ken Knutson

Last Friday approximately 65 appreciative friends celebrated Ruth’s retirement with a sumptuous potluck dinner at the Hedley Seniors’ Centre. The stories told about her produced many laughs and some tears. We really should have asked our singing Postmaster for one last tune.

Inspiration, People

Wisdom Of A Canary

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Bird in Cage
Photo: drawingcollection.com

A deep love existed between Anita and Huey, although theirs was certainly an unconventional relationship. She was a 16 year old resident in the Penticton group home where I worked for two years. Huey spent most of his time in a cage in her room. He was a green canary, wise beyond his years. He and I became partners in a conspiracy we hoped would free Anita from her damaging, joyless memories.

One of 8 youths in the home, Anita had long ago retreated into a seemingly impregnable mental and emotional stronghold. If anyone approached her, she folded her arms across her chest as though to create a shield.

Staffing at the home consisted of 2 teams, a male and a female, plus a house mother. Each team worked a 4 day, around the clock shift. In our shift change meetings, Anita was discussed almost without fail. Sometimes the executive director of the organization, a psychologist, attended. Even he could give us little helpful guidance.

We knew Anita had at times been locked in a dark closet for several days by her mother’s live in boyfriend. There were indications of possible sexual involvement. Her mother had not defended her and home had not been a place of refuge. Over time I came to believe we needed to devise an unusual strategy to disrupt Anita’s gloomy thought patterns. If we could win her trust, she might not enter adulthood with this unhealthy mindset. Without mentioning it to other workers, I enrolled the canary as my ally.

Next Monday morning I created a brief, crudely drawn cartoon strip featuring Huey and Anita. As concerned about her as I was, in the first frame Huey began planting positive thoughts in her psyche.

“I love your green eyes,” he said. “They’re beautiful.”

Surprised, Anita objected. “Oh no Huey. They aren’t beautiful. My mom’s boyfriend always said I was ugly as a toad.”

“Just because your mom’s boyfriend said it doesn’t mean it’s true.” Huey responded.

Anita always closed the door to her room, whether she was in it or not. I had never entered a resident’s room without permission before. Now I needed to take a risk. She couldn’t mistrust staff more than she already did. I taped the cartoon to the inside of the door and closed it.

A week later, Huey struck again. “You really know how to select clothes Anita. That blue top you wore to school today looks great on you.”

“Stop flattering me, or I’ll throw a towel over your cage,” Anita threatened.

Huey said, “you’re too nice to do that.”

I continued creating cartoons each Monday while she was at school. One day she left her door slightly ajar, as though to encourage the mystery cartoonist. Her interactions with people had not improved, but she folded her arms across her chest less often.

In the evening, Anita always carried the cage downstairs and set it on a chair close to her. Several months after the initial cartoon, Huey had developed the confidence to press harder. He wanted Anita to feel she was making a constructive contribution to group-home life.

“Anita, you could talk to people in the evening sometimes. Your mouth isn’t just for eating.”

She sniffed. “I know you’re saying these things because you love me, Huey, but I wouldn’t know what to say. Anyway, no one ever listens to me. My mom’s boyfriend always told me to shut my mouth.”

“Compliment the house mother on the meal,” Huey coaxed.

“I’ll think about it.”

I didn’t give her any reason to suspect I was the secret cartoonist. I just observed her slow, consistent growth. After 6 months she was leaving her door wide open, even when she was in her room. Was it an unspoken invitation for people to pop in? Sometimes she commented positively on the meal. When there was a laudatory comment on her school report card, she hesitantly showed it to the house mother.

After a year, I still had not identified myself as the one responsible for Huey’s conversations with her. Now it was time for me to move on. There were teary farewells and I walked out of the home. Unexpectedly, Anita met me at my car and shyly slipped a sheet of paper into my hand. I unfolded it and saw that she had drawn a picture of a canary.

Politics

The Politics Of Easter

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Jesus Ascending To Heaven, painting by John Singleton Copley, 1775; Wikipedia.org

Like Donald Trump and Vladimir Putin in our time, Jewish religious leaders in first century Israel were prepared to say and do whatever was necessary to retain power. When Jesus unexpectedly emerged on the scene in his 30th year, they immediately understood his teachings would undermine their hold on the people. According to the Biblical account, crowds were flocking to him from Galilee, the Decapolis, Jerusalem, Judea and regions beyond the Jordan. The religious leaders found it galling that he claimed to be the Son of God, and did not deny he was the Messiah whose coming had been foretold centuries earlier by the prophets Jeremiah and Ezekiel. They deemed him to be a mere mortal and resolved to take him down.

The undisputed ruler of the far flung Roman empire at this time was Tiberius, adopted son of the deceased Caesar Augustus. Augustus had crushed virtually all opposition by forming alliances, assassinating or banishing rivals, defeating enemies in military campaigns, and at times killing erstwhile partners. It was a harsh regime in which beheadings and crucifixions were common.

Within this context, Jewish life and political power largely revolved around the temple, located in Jerusalem, and local synagogues. Two main religious parties, the Sadducees and Pharisees, wielded immense influence. In large part their power derived from the ability to ban people from the temple and synagogues. According to Jewish historian, Flavius Josephus, the Sadducees were a sophisticated, aristocratic party. They controlled the office of the High Priest during Jesus time and held most of the seats in the governing Sanhedrin. The Pharisees tended to be scribes and strict teachers of the law.

Jesus had 12 disciples, but no party or position. Unlike the religious leaders who controlled the people with myriad petty rules about daily life, Jesus offered a message of hope. “In my father’s house are many mansions,” he told the crowds. “If I go to prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also.” People decided he was genuine and that he spoke with authority. Although they didn’t openly approve of him because they feared the religious leaders, privately many wondered if he might be the promised Messiah.

The religious leaders could have entered into a real dialogue with Jesus to determine if he might indeed be the Messiah. Certainly his miracles could not be ignored. They dared not do this though, because if he turned out to be authentic they would have to undergo a huge paradigm shift and would lose their elevated positions.

The Pharisees partnered with the Herodians, a secular party that supported the despised Roman rulers. They were definitely not natural allies but they approached Jesus and asked, “Is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar?” If he answered “no” they would report him to Governor Pilate, who would have him executed for treason. If he said “yes” they would denounce him to the people.

Jesus asked them to show him a coin, so they produced a denarius. On one side was the depiction of Caesar Tiberius. “Whose image is on the coin?” he asked. “Caesar’s” they replied. Jesus then said, “give to Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what is God’s.”

When Jesus brought Lazarus back to life, the religious rulers were spooked. Fearing they would lose all authority and credibility with the people, they had Jesus arrested at night in the garden of Gethsemane. In an early morning trial of the Sanhedrin, they found him guilty of blasphemy because he claimed to be the Son of God.

Before Pilate, Governor of Judea however, they accused Jesus of treason saying, “We have found this man subverting our nation. He opposes payment of taxes to Caesar, and claims to be Christ, a King.”

Pilate asked questions, considered the matter, then said, “After examining him, I conclude he has done nothing to deserve death.” Even so, bowing to pressure from the religious leaders and their supporters, Pilate ordered Jesus be crucified.

In his account Matthew, a former tax collector and disciple of Jesus, noted that a large stone was rolled in front of the tomb. Three days later an angel removed the stone. When Jesus followers came to the tomb, the angel said, “He is not here. He is risen.” Around the globe this Easter Sunday, Christians will greet each other with the words, “He is risen!”

Hedley Times

Boyhood Adventures In Hedley

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Doug & Jim Cade standing in front of the house that was their family home when they lived in Hedley.

Listening to Jim and Doug Cade talk enthusiastically about their boyhood adventures in a much more rustic Hedley, I was reminded of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. Mere boys when the family arrived in Hedley in 1947, they remember which family lived in almost every house, where the 6 hotels once stood, and which businesses burned.

“Dad was a logger at the coast, a high rigger and boom man,” Jim told Linda and me. “He wanted to own a sawmill so he scouted this area and found a suitable stand of timber. He loaded our furniture onto a 3 ton truck and squeezed 3 of us kids into the cab. The Hope Princeton wasn’t completed yet so we took the Canyon route, crossed over to Princeton and picked up Mom and our 3 sisters. They had come by train. Upon arriving in Hedley, Mom quickly expressed her displeasure. Dad was in his glory.”

Art Cade in Hedley, BC
photo courtesy of Hedley Museum

Their father, Art Cade, was enterprising and unwilling to accept defeat. Photos of him in the Hedley Museum reveal a calm visage and a rugged logger’s physique. He built the first mill on Burr Mountain and initially used horses to drag logs. This mill was moved to the site of what later became the Hedley ball park. In 1952 it burned to the ground.

A.S. Cade Sawmill Logging Truck in Hedley, BC
photo courtesy of Hedley Museum

“Two days later,” Jim recalled, “Dad was in Vancouver buying equipment to rebuild the mill. He supplied the mines with timbers to shore up their tunnels and delivered lumber to the coast in his early 1940’s International truck. He sold this mill and built another one on Old Hedley Road.”

The brothers have numerous memories of their father’s exploits. “Dad could do anything,” Doug said. “When the cable on the Nickel Plate tram line broke, he spliced it together. When the flood took out the bridges over 20 Mile Creek in 1948, Dad rebuilt all 15.”

“Many homes in town had sawdust burning stoves,” Jim recalled. “Dad delivered the sawdust from his mill and Doug and I shoveled it into bins. Often Dad bartered sawdust and lumber for meat, eggs and other things. Our basement was full of cans of fruit and vegetables from the cannery. They didn’t have labels so we went by the code stamped on the tins.”

Entertainment was simpler. Many boys belonged to the local Boy Scouts. Jim went on to become a Queen’s Scout, the highest award. “In summer we played a lot of scrub baseball and road hockey. In winter we tobogganed down Hospital Hill. We really took our lives into our hands racing over the bridge. Drivers would honk their horns before coming up the hill.”

There were few restrictions. “We’d grab a frying pan, a loaf of bread, some butter and coffee, and a fishing line,” Doug said. “We’d go into the woods for a weekend and our parents didn’t worry about us. Sometimes we hiked far up the creek to where Hughie Glenn had a cabin and vegetable garden. He often fed us venison roast and onions. Everyone knew us and took care of us.”

People played card games and monopoly a lot, especially in the Moose Hall. “When tv came, ” Doug said, “the wind would often shift the antenna on the mountain. We’d drive up and turn it back so we could watch the hockey game.”

The Hedley School offered grades 1-12 until 1951. When the new high school in Keremeos opened, students in grade 7 and higher were picked up by bus.

“I wasn’t very interested in school,” Jim admitted. “In grades 7,8, and 9, I missed an average of 33 days each year. I completed grade 12 but didn’t have enough credits to graduate. I worked for Dad one year, piling lumber and driving truck. One day on Kruger Hill the brakes failed. I got going pretty fast. I knew this wasn’t the kind of work I wanted to do and started thinking there must be something else.”

For Doug, the path ahead was simpler. “None of my group graduated,” he said. “We went to work. I worked as a heavy equipment operator and also drove logging trucks and highway rigs.” Jim, who had not accumulated enough credits to graduate, went back to school and became a teacher. For 24 years he was a principal in Merritt.

The brothers live in Penticton now, but it seems their hearts are still in Hedley.

Inspiration

Lesson Of The Damascus Gate

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Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division Washington, The Damascus Gate, D.C. 20540 USA
CARD #: 2002725014

I remind myself occasionally of the 18th century story about an elderly man who often sat at the gate to Damascus. Over the many years of his life he had served the people and had attained considerable wisdom. Now, no longer having official responsibilities, he sat at the gate and greeted travelers as they entered the city.

One day a merchant leading a camel train stopped and asked, “Can you tell me what sort of people live in this city?”

The old man considered for a moment, then said, “what sort of people live in the city you are from?”

The merchant’s face darkened. “They are a miserable lot,” he answered. “They cheat and rob and do harm whenever possible.”

The old man nodded and said, “Those are the kind of people you will find here.”

“The Pekingese Camel” photo by John Thomson,
Beinecke Rare Book & Manuscript Library

Another merchant, also leading a train of camels, asked the same question that morning. Once again the old man inquired, “what sort of people live in your city?” In reply the merchant said, “Oh, they are the most honest, trustworthy people I know.”

“You will find the people here are like that too,” the old man answered.

At the end of the day both merchants departed the city. Each stopped to tell the old man he had been accurate in his assessment of the people.

Contemplating this simple tale has helped me understand that my beliefs about people and circumstances can mislead me. Kurt Hanks, in Rapid Viz, suggests “We construct our beliefs, mostly unconsciously, and thereafter they hold us captive. They blind us to possibility.”

When Linda and I lived in a condo in Abbotsford, we had an opportunity to observe firsthand the lesson of the Damascus gate story. Living by herself on the same floor was Trisha, a blond with blue eyes and a figure that prompted men to pause for a lingering second look.

The first time she met Trisha in the hallway, Linda said “We’ll have to get together for coffee.” Trisha’s response was surprisingly unreceptive. “I have my own friends,” she said. When we met her after that, she greeted us but didn’t want to stop to chat.

For some time we were not aware of anyone other than Merla, seemingly her only friend, coming to Trisha’s door. We didn’t understand how such an attractive individual could choose to live with almost no one in her life. In time she acquired a live in boyfriend. He was evicted a number of times, according to the dictates of her moods.

When I was elected to the condo council, I learned that Trisha had recently complained about water damage to her living room ceiling. Although the problem had been dealt with and the ceiling repainted, she began telling residents she wasn’t receiving the same consideration as other owners. To satisfy her, council had actually already spent more strata funds in her unit than in others. She became increasingly uncommunicative in the hallways. When people met her, she looked intently at the floor and remained silent.

Trisha appeared to be developing an inner reality that did not exist outside her mind, seemingly blinded to the possibilities around her. A number of residents wanted to be her friend. They wanted to include her in the strata’s flourishing social life, but she invariably declined. To give her a voice in decision making, Trisha was elected to the strata council. The next morning she abruptly resigned.

She began focusing her growing anger on 78 year old Bert, the strata president. She apparently believed he was responsible for her inner misery. One morning we found a note had been slipped under our door during the night. It was from Trisha, addressed to Bert. It listed various, vague grievances against him. We learned copies of this note had been slipped under each door. In the coming weeks, there were a series of such notes. Their increasingly venomous tone disturbed some elderly residents. Bert continued to greet Trisha with a friendly face and uplifting words.

In retrospect, I’m sure Trisha sincerely believed it was unsafe to trust anyone. Three marriages had failed. She had terminated the relationship with the live in boyfriend. Her friendship with Merla was floundering.

By their beliefs and actions, Trisha and the first merchant entering the Damascus Gate created an unsatisfying, discordant personal world. Bert and the second merchant saw the good in people and thereby created a joyous, fulfilling personal world.

Hedley Times, People

Karen Cummings Finds Tranquility In Art

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Ken Hoyle & Karen Cummings with Mosaic inspired by a mother’s handwritten poem on the inside cover of a library book.

When Karen Cummings discovered a hand written poem inside the back cover of a library book, she felt deeply moved. “I wanted to keep the book,” she admitted, “but I realized I must let others read the poem too.” She chose instead to purchase a used soldier’s uniform and create a piece of textile art. It’s a creation that has the rare capacity to seep deep into the psyche of its beholder.

When Karen approached me several months ago to talk about her “Hedley Hankie” enterprise, we arranged a conversation. Her husband, Ken Hoyle, listened with rapt interest as she talked about their lives and her current art interests.

Hand Dyed Hedley Hankies by Karen Cummings

Ken and Karen moved to Hedley from Ontario last year to be closer to their children and grandchildren. “Over the past 5 years we’ve taken steps to simplify our lives,” she told Linda and me. “We particularly wanted a smaller home in a less chaotic area. I gave away 13 large pieces of my art work. We tried to give away a dining room table that seated 12. When we moved from our 3000 square foot home, we were able to load everything into an 8 foot container.”

They seem wonderfully content in their bright, recently updated home. Karen’s creations provide a spectacular splash of colour on every wall. Observing their present life, we would not have guessed they endured a measure of turmoil in the past.

Karen’s birth family connections have almost completely unravelled. “I was raised to be a stay at home wife and have children,” she said. She had difficulty accepting the expectations of her family. She did, however, get married at age 18, moved to Ontario with her husband and bore 2 children. In time the marriage disintegrated.

Over the years Karen entered into various business ventures. “I always loved the creative entrepreneurial spirit. At one time I owned a clothing store in a high profile mall. The rent was $5,000 a month.” Preoccupied with operating the business, she didn’t realize she was going broke. “I was amazed when my accountant told me I’d have to declare bankruptcy. They came and put a padlock on the door.”

Karen didn’t dwell on her personal financial losses due to the closing of the store. It was the inability to adequately compensate her suppliers that she talked about. “The clothes were made mostly by small mom and pop businesses. Also, I had to let my employees go. It was difficult.” After that she was careful to only be involved in businesses funded or serviced by herself.

Everything began to change for her and for Ken (who had also experienced marriage failure) when they met on a blind date. “My boss was Ken’s neighbour,” Karen said. “She told Ken we should meet. We went out for dinner and Ken told me later I never took off my sunglasses.” Apparently the sunglasses weren’t a real impediment. They’ve been together 18 years. “Ken is the kindest person I’ve ever met,” she said. “We talk about everything.”

For Karen’s art interests, 2010 was a threshold year. “I came to textile art. That summer I decided I would pretend I’m an artist. I took courses in drawing and painting. I had a sewing machine so I bought a book about making art quilts. I adapted the techniques and made 200 textile art pieces. Fabrics became my medium. I join them together by hand or machine.”

Om Gratitude by Karen Cummings, hand dyed,
37×46

Now in Hedley, many of Karen’s creations are deftly displayed on the walls of their home. The vivid colours suggest exuberance and ecstasy. A festive celebration of life.

The mosaic, based on the hand written poem in a library book, is more sobering. Entitled The More I Cried, The Less I Spoke, it was written by a mother whose son was killed in the Vietnam war. “I bought a soldier’s uniform, deconstructed it and made a work of art. I believe when I create art, I create a story. This re-construction of the uniform was my way of honouring the soldier and the mother. By displaying it in galleries and competitions all over Canada, I’ve made their story more widely known.”

Karen’s life experiences, including the losses, have given her a greater depth of understanding.

“The world is a chaotic mess,” she believes. “It’s important to have a piece of art that has meaning for you. This can provide tranquility.” Ken smiled and nodded his agreement.