Just over a week ago Linda and I attended the 101 birthday celebration of Violet Madeline Barber, an honoured member of the Lower Similkameen Indian Band (LSIB). She is known throughout the Similkameen Valley and beyond as “Aunt Doll.” We met Aunt Doll initially when her nephew, Stan Bobowski invited us to interview her for the blog and our newspaper column. This was just prior to her 98th birthday and since then we’ve been invited to her party each year We learned that unlike some elderly individuals, she wasn’t just lingering, waiting for an angel to scoop her and take her to the next realm. In that interview she said, “I’m so close to 100 now, I’d like to get there.” And why not? Her health is amazingly robust and at the party she walked without a cane.
Aunt Doll carries a plate of food back to her chair.
She grew up on her parents’ ranch and the memories she garnered continue to be vivid. “For 6 months each year our cattle were in the mountains,” she said. “As I became old enough I began riding the range. We were out in all weather. At night we stayed in a deserted prospector’s cabin. I loved horses, and I loved riding.” Quite likely much of her inner resolve and calm was developed during those months in the mountains, keeping track of cattle, contending with storms in spring and fall, and at times coping with dangerous situations.
Aunt Doll in her early years
Aunt Doll was joined by approximately 70 adoring family members and friends for the celebration at the home of Stan and Hope Bobowski of Olalla. Sitting behind Stan on his Harley Davidson, she seemed very comfortable. She’s a gutsy lady. As in earlier years, she still welcomes adventure and she continues to be an inspiration to many.
Dave Stringfellow, Erris Fire Chief; Robin Ford, Hedley Firefighter; Doug Nimchuk, Deputy Hedley Fire Chief
We are becoming increasingly aware that wildfires can be as devious and remorseless as a corrupt politician. Until recent years, their destructive insidious nature existed mostly in the fertile minds of science fiction writers. Now, with the advent of climate change, fire departments even in small communities are striving to alert us to the potential hazards and make us aware of strategies we can employ to protect ourselves.
At a seminar organized by the Hedley Fire Department, Erris Fire Chief Dave Stringfellow told a sobering story of how a crafty fire can take advantage of our mistakes. “A fire department built a new fire hall using hardie board and metal roofing,” he said. “On the exterior, wood was used only for construction of the stairs. When there was a wildfire in the area, embers floated to lumber stored under the stairs, igniting a conflagration that burned down their brand new fire hall.”
Surprisingly, only 20 individuals attended this all important seminar. With many structures in the Similkameen Valley being of considerable age and surrounded by forest or grass, complacency seems particularly ill-founded. Reality does not cease to exist just because we ignore it. I’ve heard that some people forgot about the event and regret having missed it.
In Hedley, we saw last year just how quickly a fire can ravage a building. As has been extensively reported in the media, Trisha Mills and Bill Carmichael scarcely had time to escape when their Hitching Post restaurant caught fire. Serious injuries changed their lives, possibly forever. Ken Hoyle, manager of the Hedley Fire Department said, “If there had been wind that night, a number of Hedley structures would almost certainly have burned.”
Fire departments throughout our province are becoming deeply concerned about the danger wildfires pose for their communities. I understood the preoccupation with interface fires more clearly when Fire Fighter Robin Ford said, “Forty percent of wildfires are started by humans and they can travel rapidly. One fire raced the distance of 6 football fields in one minute. The most common loss of homes is by burning embers, not by a wall of flame. Embers can travel 5 to 15 kilometers. Debris in gutters, dry grass, trash around buildings make it easy for them to ignite a fire that can burn one or more homes.”
Ford advocated for masks in the home to protect against smoke. “Also, a 6 ml tarp over your wood pile or patio is a shield against embers,” she said. “Patio chair cushions ignite easily so it’s best to remove them.” She recommended a sprinkler system available from some fire departments.
Maureen Parsley, Director of Princeton Emergency Support Services
Maureen Parsley, Director of Princeton Emergency Support Services said, “It’s wise to plan in advance and do what you can to minimize the risks. It’s important to have a bag ready to go with what you will need in an evacuation.” Her list includes items like medications, clothes, shoes, a rope, toilet paper, a solar blanket, flashlight and batteries, cell phone and an adapter to charge the battery, bottled water, food, and much more.
Certainly in an emergency we don’t want to be frantically dashing around searching for car keys, wallet, eye glasses, dentures, or the lottery ticket on which rests our hopes for the future. We will want enough gas in the tank to get to a safe place.
Many local B.C. fire departments and other agencies offer helpful advice on their website. Because Fort Mac Murray fire fighters experienced one of the most devastating fires on record, their website is also worth a look. In part, it says, “In most instances, we will have only 3 minutes to escape from a burning home. Prepare and practise a fire escape plan. Have a designated meeting place for the family outside the home. Do a fire drill 2 times each year. This should include pressing the smoke alarm button to ensure everyone will recognize the sound in an emergency. Know how to use a fire extinguisher.
A good first step, in my view, is to begin talking about the threat of wildfires with our family and putting together a solid, practical plan based on the advice of our fire department. And when our fire department has a fund raiser hot dog sale we should indulge, even if it’s contrary to our weight loss diet. To defend our lives and homes, they need funds to acquire the best equipment available. It’s not science fiction anymore.
In his 30th year, Jesus of Nazareth began propounding religious and social ideas that confounded and antagonized the Jewish religious elites of his time. He arrived on the scene during the reign of Caesar Augustus, and lived into the rule of Tiberius. Without an army or political party, his message brought more significant, lasting change than all the powerful Roman emperors combined.
In the 33rd year of his life, the Jewish religious authorities succeeded in persuading Roman governor, Pontius Pilate, to crucify him. According to accounts by Biblical writers like the former tax collector Matthew, he was resurrected on the third day and spoke with his disciples. It is this death on a cross and miraculous resurrection that will be celebrated by Christians around the globe this Easter.
The Roman empire had been cobbled together by 2 ambitious but uneasy partners, Caesar Augustus and Mark Antony. Throughout its existence, the empire was held together by a web of intrigue, assassinations, political marriages, betrayals, poisonings, and war. Women were valued primarily for forging alliances. In Rome there were numerous temples to various gods, and men of nobility, including emperors, wished to be identified as near gods. Conquered nations usually suffered under a huge burden of taxation. Disobedience was often dealt with by crucifixion, beheading, poisoning or drowning.
In this septic atmosphere of mistrust and scheming, the Jewish religious leaders had managed to acquire a measure of political power. Their authority was lodged in the Sanhedrin, the Jewish ruling council. The council consisted primarily of 2 parties, the Sadducees, which at this time held the majority of seats, and the Pharisees. The Pharisees believed there would be a resurrection of the dead but the Sadducees did not. On other points of lesser importance they did agree and had developed an all encompassing system of religious rules which the people found virtually impossible to follow. The religious rulers could bar people from the temple if they didn’t comply. Since Jewish culture centered on religious traditions and especially on the temple, there was fear of being shut out.
It was not an auspicious time for the appearance of a man who claimed to be the Son of God. The Sadducees and Pharisees quickly became suspicious because he contradicted much of their teaching. They held to the “eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth” philosophy. “Love your neighbour,” they said, “and hate your enemy.” Jesus urged the people to “love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you.” The chief priests and teachers of the law deemed his teaching to be heretical and sent spies to question him and report to them.
Jesus warned against the corruptness and false piety of the religious leaders. “They like to walk around in flowing robes,” he said, “and be greeted in the market places and have the most important seats in the synagogues. For a show they make lengthy prayers.”
Equally galling were the miracles. When he healed a man with a withered hand on the Sabbath, they accused him of breaking the law and began plotting to kill him.
Evidently the people were desperate for greater substance than the rules and platitudes offered by the pious, corrupt religious leaders. Crowds gathered around Jesus, sensing his authenticity and liking his positive message of forgiveness and hope. This fervent adulation aroused fear and jealousy in the Sadducees and Pharisees. When he brought Lazarus back from the dead, a member of the Sanhedrin said, “If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him, and then the Romans will take away our place and our nation.”
Late one night, Judas Iscariot, one of the 12 disciples betrayed Jesus with a kiss in the Garden of Gethsemane. At dawn the religious leaders brought him before Pontius Pilate, demanding he be crucified. Jesus had told his disciples this would happen.
Reluctantly, Pilate sentenced him and he was crucified between 2 criminals. One joined the scoffing. The other said, “Lord remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Jesus replied, “today you will be with me in paradise.”
Several writers in the Biblical New Testament report that Jesus died on the cross, was placed in a tomb, and was resurrected 3 days later. This Easter, Christians around the globe will again greet each other with “He is risen!”
On our return trip to Hedley from Abbotsford last week, Linda and I had breakfast with our son and daughter-in-law in Lotte’s Luncheonette in Chilliwack. It’s a small Korean restaurant with only 5 tables. The congenial atmosphere fosters a sense of contentment and well being. We had been here before, usually on our way home. As always, Lotte welcomed us with a radiant smile and asked about our plans for the day. Once again, the breakfast she served us was delightful. Then, as we were about to leave, she presented Linda and me with a large coffee to go and 2 small specialty pancakes tucked into paper envelopes. A touch of cinnamon made them a delicious treat. “You have a long drive today,” she said, smiling broadly, “This is for your trip home.” Lotte’s gift made us feel quite special.
Lotte’s gesture reminded me of an observation in The Wind in my Hair, an autobiography by Iranian author Masih Alinejad. A friend told her, “People forget what you tell them, but they never forget what you do for them.”
As we negotiated the climbs, descents and curves of the Hope-Princeton later that morning, I realized Lotte’s gift made me feel worthy and lifted my spirits. It stirred in me the thought that over the course of my lifetime, I’ve been the beneficiary of some wonderfully life shaping interactions. Invariably, these encounters have been with individuals I respect for their integrity. It seems they had an innate, possibly unconscious desire to drop a pearl of blessing into my life.
As we passed the Manning Park lodge, my thoughts drifted many years into the past, when I was a late teen in my last year in school. Mr. Wally Klassen, the biology teacher realized I was struggling with his course. One day he asked me to stay behind after the class. “I can see this isn’t a strong area for you,” he said,”but if you put in the effort, I’ll make sure you pass.” A soft spoken man without guile or pretense, he evidently wanted to stand by this young student who had little aptitude for science. Now, many years later, I still deeply appreciate his desire to encourage me. A few years ago, just before Christmas, I called him, reminded him of what he had done, and thanked him. He didn’t remember me but he certainly was pleased to learn he had made a difference in my life. He was one of those all too rare individuals who has a vision for more than himself.
Sometimes a person’s words are a life impacting gift. In his latter years, my Dad was in a wheelchair due to a disabling fall. One day I took him to a classical concert in an Abbotsford church. Sitting several rows ahead of us I recognized Mr. Bill Wiebe, my former school principal. In a school that was then known to be strong in basketball, music and theatre, I had not done anything noteworthy. It was now many years later and I felt certain he would not remember me. After the program I introduced myself. “Yes, yes,” he said with enthusiasm. “I remember you. I read what you write in the local newspaper. Keep it up.” He was a man of immense authenticity, highly respected in the community. In this brief interaction he encouraged me to believe the views I was expressing publicly had value.
When I needed to transport several pieces of furniture from Princeton to Hedley some years ago, Gary Ross, a fellow Hedley resident, volunteered to haul them in his pickup. I accepted his offer gladly and said I would reimburse him for his time and expenses. He adamantly refused any payment. I still value this act of friendship and generosity.
Today, as I reflect on these and other priceless “gifts” that have come to me, I realize they have shaped my thinking and even the course of my life. I don’t consider it a stretch to say they have played a significant part in enabling me to believe I can dare more and do more. They have enriched my life immensely, and now I remind myself I have a responsibility and an opportunity to “pay it forward” and thereby enrich the lives of others.
Another look at Lotte in her kitchen located at #102-45645 Tamihi Way, Chilliwack, BC
When science fiction writer Ray Bradley said, “first you jump off the cliff, then you develop wings on the way down,” he could have had Trisha Mills and Bill Carmichael in mind. For them, purchasing the Hitching Post restaurant in Hedley last June marked the end of one chapter of their lives and the beginning of a new, unexpectedly uncertain one. The iconic restaurant burned to the ground one night and they had to jump from the second floor into a void of smoke and darkness. In two extended phone conversations with Bill and Trisha, Linda and I had an opportunity to look into their past and also explore the impact of the fire on their health, thinking, and future plans.
“We met online,” Trisha told us at the outset. “We were both looking for people who enjoy outdoor activities, When we connected, it was as friends initially. Our relationship really came together 8 years ago.”
Bill grew up on the family’s 100 acre ranch near Darfield, a tiny community about 50 miles north of Kamloops. “My Dad worked away a lot,” he said. “I helped with tending our chickens, sheep and cattle, including at birthing time. I also fixed and moved sprinklers on the hay field. At age 12 I studied a book on welding and went out to my Dad’s shop and learned to weld. On the side I fixed bicycles and lawnmowers. Even at that age I enjoyed reading technical manuals or the Princess Auto catalogue.”
He went on to take a motorcycle mechanics course, and subsequently attended BCIT where he became a millwright. Lafarge Canada hired him and assigned him to its Kamloops maintenance crew. In time, the company made him a maintenance and planning inspector. In this position, he travelled to Lafarge plants in other countries.
Trisha’s stepfather became ill and died when she was 9. “It was a trying time for Mom,” she recalled “We moved a lot and I needed to become more independent. Moving from Vancouver to Vancouver Island was a culture shock. Since then I’ve mostly lived in small communities.” She went on to run a restaurant. Then, wanting to be at home with her 2 children, she operated a licensed daycare for 10 years. Five years ago, after attaining a certificate in office administration at the Thompson Rivers University, she began forging a new career with a security company.
In 2014, Bill’s motorcycle accident brought radical change. “I was travelling at 100 kmh when a buck with 6 inch spikes came up from the river. I caught the deer in my chest and its face was in my face. I was able to park the bike without crashing it, probably because I’m pretty stubborn.” His left arm was shattered and his heart stopped, but he remained alive.
The injury ended his career as a millwright and they needed a new plan. Bill attended courses offered by Community Futures in Penticton. When Viktoria Braat of Hedley told them The Hitching Post restaurant was for sale, they investigated its potential and made the decision to buy it.
As has been extensively reported in the media, four months later at about 2 am on October 23rd of last year, a raging fire engulfed the restaurant. By leaping into the smoke and darkness they saved their lives, but sustained serious injuries.
Trisha & Bill, standing in front of their wheelchairs.
Now in Kamloops for medical attention and therapy, they are both still largely dependent on wheelchairs for mobility. Bill is able to walk limited distances with crutches and looks forward to using the walking stick he has carved. Trisha’s injuries are more complex. She uses a walker for balance and physio. Her open wounds are healing. The extent of nerve damage to her back will be assessed at the end of the month.
Banner on the security fence surrounding the lot where the Hitching Post Restaurant was located.
In spite of this huge setback, both are surprisingly upbeat. They are grateful for the considerable financial support received from the Hedley community and others. Also, for visits to Bill when he was in the Penticton hospital.
Will they rebuild the restaurant? “It will depend on our mobility,” Trisha said. “We miss the peace and quiet of Hedley and want to come back.”
“There’s a lot to consider,” Bill added. “We hope to rebuild, but we won’t be able to recreate the Hitching Post experience. Whatever happens, we’re in it together. Our situation isn’t insurmountable. We’re taking small steps toward a strong future.”
Famed American broadcaster Paul Harvey always ended his news cast with the words, “and now you know the rest of the story.” After I recently wrote about Terry and Cindy Regier’s battle to rebuild their lives following his life threatening aneurysm, their son Jacob said, “Dad told a great story, but he missed 80 percent.” Hearing Cindy’s version subsequently, I felt obligated to follow in Paul Harvey’s footsteps.
“Terry was a big strong man,” Cindy began. “His position as foreman on a railroad section gang required hard physical work. He was 28 and I was 26. We already had 2 sons, three year old Jesse and three week old Jacob. When I received a call telling me he had collapsed on the job and the doctors didn’t know what was wrong, I was scared out of my tree. His boss gave me a ride to Calgary in his pick-up. I left Jesse with our good friends and took along my newborn.”
Terry was in a Calgary hospital for 2 months, then after 6 weeks at home was returned to the hospital for brain surgery. Blood was getting into his brain. He had lost his balance, coordination and memory. “He didn’t recognize me or our 2 sons. Three times they called me to come in because they said he might not survive this one. There were a lot of tears.”
Terry and Cindy’s dream was to own a farm and they had just made an offer on a quarter section north of Edmonton. “When the lawyer came to the hospital with the paperwork, Terry could sign it only with an X.”
We lost friends. “Some people didn’t believe Terry would ever recover. They urged me to leave him. Social services would help financially only if I divorced him and sold the farm. I wouldn’t consider that.” While Terry was still in the ICU, the doctors told her he might never be able to function on his own again and she should check out other care options. She followed their advice but decided this would hinder his recovery.
“I couldn’t accept that Terry didn’t remember me or the boys,” she said. “One day I told the nurses in ICU I wanted them to have him sitting in a chair when I came in. I dressed up the way I had when we were still dating and going to dances. The nurses were upset when I brought the boys into the ICU, but I insisted. I wanted to spur him on.”
She placed Jesse on Terry’s knee but the child sensed something wasn’t the same about his father. She then helped Terry hold Jacob. “I watched his face and a light came on in his eyes. He seemed to realize he had reason to move ahead.”
Their circumstances continued to be bleak. “We lived on $500 a month. Local Ukrainian ladies taught me how to make cottage cheese. I sold it and also cream. The farm provided meat, eggs, vegetables and milk.”
Terry became very depressed when they sent him home. His father had taught his sons to be independent. Now he was in a wheelchair. He had to start over.
There were some rays of hope. Cindy was encouraged by a plaque in the home of Terry’s mother. It said, “Put a little fence around today. God will help you with today. Don’t worry about tomorrow.”
Her grandmother was a huge source of strength. “She got married at age 16 and bore 11 children. They homesteaded in Manitoba in the horse and buggy days. She told me, ‘You married a good man and he’s still a good man. Straighten your spine.’ She called and visited me often. Her support and my faith helped me get through this time.”
Terry had a strong will. When he saw Jacob roll over for the first time, he said, “before this boy crawls, I will be walking.” In time, with unrelenting perseverance he regained his ability to walk. Cindy became equally gritty, holding the family together, encouraging Terry, helping with the farm work and embarking on a nursing career.
Cindy & Terry Regier
Except for a black pirate’s patch over one eye to prevent double vision, Terry has largely recovered. Today he and Cindy are contributing members of the Hedley community. “The experience has made us stronger,” Cindy said, “especially in our marriage, family and faith.”
A black patch over his right eye gives Terry Regier a rakish pirate-like appearance. Add to that the black leather jacket, some facial hair and a distinctive, somewhat jaunty gait and we might suppose he had just disembarked from Captain Hook’s “Jolly Roger”. Behind the outer image is an experience that could have devastated his marriage, his family, even his own life. After a conversation with him over coffee and Linda’s brownies in the sun room of our home, I concluded Terry and wife Cindy are two of the most resilient, persevering individuals I’ve ever met. For them there was a life before the patch and another life after.
At the outset of our conversation, Terry’s mind seemed to slip into an earlier time when all was still well. “I was born in Walkerton Ontario,” he began. “In my last year of high school I took carpentry and architectural drafting. When work became hard to find, 3 guys and myself travelled to the west. Our goal was to find jobs before our money ran out. My money did run out, but then someone offered me work in Alberta.”
Meeting Cindy, a young woman with a cheerful personality and a winning smile, added a positive dimension to his life. They got married, bought some land and began a family.
Hired to work on a railroad section gang, he watched for job openings with higher seniority. “Often no one wanted these positions because they didn’t want to move,” he said. “I was willing to work away from home. I stayed in motels, and sometimes in a tent.” He was ambitious and did whatever was needed to improve their circumstances.
Terry was at work on his railroad job when their happy world crashed. “I had been experiencing severe headaches,” he recalled. “On May 15, 1989 I lost my balance and fell to the ground. My co-workers dragged me to a truck and drove me to the hospital in High River.”
He was paralyzed on one side and the doctors at first thought he’d had a stroke. “I had difficulty talking,” he said. “My brain was swelling on one side and this put pressure on the other side. They performed surgery to relieve the pressure. The doctors figured out it was all from an aneurysm.” He was only 28.
For Cindy it was a traumatic time. They lived on acreage and she needed to feed the hogs and chickens, plus look after 2 year old Jesse and one month old Jacob. Added to this they were in the midst of selling the property and buying a quarter section.
“I wanted to farm,” Terry said, “but now I couldn’t read the document the lawyer brought to the hospital for me to sign. I didn’t recognize Cindy or my 2 young sons. Altogether, I was in the hospital 3 months. I had to learn to talk again and to walk. When I was released from the hospital we drove to Calgary, an hour from our farm, every second day for physio. We also needed to figure out our financial situation. It was a horrible time.”
Some women might have walked away from a man whose body and mind were in such a chaotic state. Fortunately Cindy had staying power and didn’t throw up her hands in defeat. “She began training to be a nurse,” Terry said,.“It was a matter of necessity. I was making progress in recuperating, but it was very difficult.”
Although his physical capacity was limited and he’d lost much of his memory, Terry persisted in his dream. “After we bought the quarter section,” he said, “I began buying cheap used equipment for our little farm. It was equipment no one else wanted. I was able to adapt and make it work. We had sheep, chickens, cattle and a garden. I wasn’t a good farmer but the place supplied our needs.”
Terry Regier in Hedley
At this point Terry reached for a brownie and Linda replenished his coffee. “The patch is to prevent double vision,” he said, as though to explain it’s not a big deal for him. “We have 3 adult sons now. I’m a director at the Community Club and Cindy is treasurer. I put the coffee on for the morning coffee group. I also play crib several evenings each week. Cindy plays the piano at the little church here.”
Terry and Cindy endured the dark days together, and beat the odds. Now life is good again.
When Linda and I met a couple for lunch in Abbotsford in late December, their first question was, “Is Hedley’s water contaminated?” Like others in B.C. they had watched Global News coverage of the Hedley town meeting called to discuss the water issue and provide clarification. Someone had invited Global to the meeting, apparently to ensure the greatest possible audience for the protestations of several citizens. We assured our friends the water had been tested and, except for individuals with weakened immune systems, has been deemed safe for human consumption. Unfortunately, the blemish on Hedley’s reputation may not be as easily undone.
After the town water meeting, I was reminded of former FBI Director James Comey’s words in A Higher Loyalty. Addressing his agents, he said “You are the beneficiaries of a reservoir of goodwill built up over decades. Faithful, honest agents before you have earned for our organization a reputation for integrity and credibility. No matter which political party they favoured, they knew when they testified in court their responsibility was to truthfully represent the FBI, not a political party. The problem with a reservoir is that it takes a long time to fill, but one hole in the dam can empty it quickly. In the same way, if an agent’s words or actions reflect negatively on our organization, the reservoir of goodwill can be just as quickly drained.” Although it was likely to result in him losing his position, Comey resisted political pressure, knowing it would taint the Justice System in the thinking of Americans.
Over many years I’ve seen how difficult it is to remove a negative belief from my own mind, or that of another person. In the 1980’s when Linda and I arrived in Hedley, we sometimes heard the community referred to as “Deadly Hedley.” At times I was reticent to admit I was from this community. The reputation still lingers in some minds. Recently when a business owner in Keremeos learned I live in Hedley, he immediately said, “oh, Deadly Hedley eh?” The words had been lodged in his mind for decades, and now they popped out unbidden. I told him we don’t say that anymore.
Since the town meeting, I’ve wondered about the implications of the angry words of a few seemingly distraught citizens being eagerly and widely broadcast by the Global News camera. Very likely the individual who invited Global wanted simply to vent an excess of frustration and anger.
My experience with big city media has convinced me we should not think a reporter will look for a Chicken Soup for the Soul type of story, or even a balanced story. Reporters know a provocative, sensational account will, almost without exception, garner more readers or viewers.
One possible unanticipated and unintended implication of Global’s negative portrayal of Hedley particularly concerns me. After viewing the angry accusations, did some high quality people strike Hedley off their list of places to move to? Why would anyone choose such a fractious, dysfunctional community? Also, this kind of media attention can hardly be good for local enterprises like The Hedley Country Market, Hedley Inn and Hostel, or the Hedley Trading Post.
Fortunately our town is actually a pretty happy place. We have a substantial reservoir of goodwill built up by dedicated citizens over the years. People from other communities attend the popular monthly $5 Pancake Breakfast at the Seniors’ Centre. The Community Club’s Summer Street Dance invariably creates a buzz in town. The Hedley Museum has gained a solid reputation and attracts tourists from all parts of Canada and around the globe. Many people willingly participate when there is a need.
We can choose to sweep the recent turmoil under the carpet, but this may be only a temporary fix. Alternatively, we can decide to learn from the experience. In an online article, Jeanne Segal (PhD) and Melinda Smith (M.A.) suggest it’s important to “make conflict resolution the priority, rather than being right. Resolution lies in releasing the urge to punish, and in being willing to forgive. Maintaining and strengthening the relationship should always be your priority. Be respectful of the other person and their viewpoint.”
Although Hedley’s name may have been somewhat tarnished by the Global reporter’s focus, we can decide to put this issue behind us and move on together. Working collaboratively, we can enlarge the reservoir that others have bequeathed to us.
This old man could have been Mr. Loeppky (photo courtesy of quitsmokingrapidly.com)
Mr. Loeppky lived almost next door to us. His wife had divorced him at an earlier time and we referred to him as “the bachelor.” His fortunes had deteriorated markedly since the divorce and his home now was a two room shack he had constructed himself.
No paintbrush had touched the exterior in many years. The interior was equally unadorned. It was furnished with little more than a kitchen table, old green fridge, woodstove and an aged chest of drawers. He did have cupboards and a sink with hot and cold water. A yellowed sheet hung in the doorway to the bedroom. Cracked, grey linoleum covered the floor. A perpetual pall of tobacco smoke pervaded the place. His bathroom was a one-seater outhouse.
Mr. Loeppky’s surroundings had not always been this sparse. In his earlier, more affluent years, he had owned and managed a successful automotive dealership in a prairie town. A skilled mechanic, he had at first done much of the service work himself, always, as he volunteered one day, “with a flask in my back pocket.”
Former townspeople of that time spoke of him almost reverentially. They had considered him a high roller, respected for his business acumen. “His home was one of the finest. He had plenty of money and he loved to party,” one woman recalled. “In conversation he was engaging. People clamoured to be around him.”
Somewhere along the way a fondness for strong drink overtook his earlier good judgment. Business began to slip and his wife, possibly aware financial ruin might be approaching, became involved with a local lawyer. Mr. Loeppky did not see the divorce looming.
I was only 14 when I began visiting him. By then he had long been stripped of family, wealth and good standing in his community. Everything he had once valued was gone. Still, at age 65 there lingered about him a trace of his earlier good looks and outward refinement.
Even now I have only a vague understanding of why I was initially drawn to visit this once proud, successful man. Possibly it was the doughnuts he made occasionally. Almost no one visited him, so I realize now he made them mostly for me.
I don’t think he ever consciously decided to tell me his life story. Certainly he didn’t take me back to the early years and lead me through a logical sequence of events to the present time. Rather, the details came out like pieces of a puzzle, especially at the end of the month when his pension cheque allowed him to purchase a bottle of gin and a can of McDonald’s tobacco.
Sitting at his kitchen table with him, I watched as his trembling fingers rolled ungainly smokes and his mind slipped into the past. If he had doughnuts, he placed the large tin before me and said “eat.” While he talked, I observed those faded blue eyes as he resurrected scenes from earlier years.
Over time his breathing became laboured. One day he said, “the doc told me I have lung cancer. Guess it won’t be long before the Grim Reaper comes.” He continued to smoke and occasionally still made doughnuts.
Because he was no longer eating them himself, the doughnuts were lasting longer and were less fresh. The flavour of cigarette smoke was more discernible. Sensing it was important to him, I ate them anyway. His cough was becoming harsh and frequent. It troubled me.
Over all those years, Mr. Loeppky’s son and two daughters each visited only once. In his last months as he was dying, they still did not come.
He passed away in spring and I notified his family. A small neighbourhood church organized a memorial service at the local funeral home. I had told our friends about Mr. Loeppky, and a few came to bid him a final farewell. His son and daughters also arrived.
At the end of the service his son asked me, “Do you know what my father died of?”
When I could slip out I walked around to the back of the funeral home. I felt a deep sadness at the loss of my friend. Henry, a local photographer, was already there shedding his own tears. Standing beside him, I decided that, no matter what the difficulties, I would strive to nourish and retain the relationships in my life. I still consider this the gift of Mr. Loeppky.
I have long been curious about the photos on the wall of my Abbotsford dentist’s reception area. The subjects are primarily African or Hispanic. Last week in a conversation in our home, I asked Dr. Sam Edworthy to tell me about them.
One of the photos on Dr. Sam’s office wall.
A modest man, he’s quite comfortable being addressed as “Sam” by both staff and patients. “In 2000,” he said, “a dentist told me the Northview Community Church was putting together a team to provide desperately needed services in a Mexican village. It sounded interesting so I accepted his invitation to go. It was a fulfilling 2 weeks and since then I’ve done dentistry in a number of countries.”
“I’ve returned to Mexico about 12 times,” he said in response to my prodding. “Mostly under the auspices of the Abbotsford Vineyard Church. Presently they are establishing a permanent dentistry clinic there so dentists can go for one or more weeks and everything is ready. A lot of our work there has been with single moms.”
On several trips to Ghana, a local pastor expressed an urgent desire for ongoing dental services in his area. Sam trained him in basic dental procedures and the sponsoring church group provided supplies and equipment so he could carry on.
Sam feels it is important that others, including his family, discover the sense of fulfillment he experiences on mission trips. “When my son James was 14 I took him along on a trip to Nepal,” he said. “I wanted him to interact with people of another culture. I also wanted him to understand how fortunate we are in Canada and that we really should help people who have so little.”
Haitian children benefited from Dr. Sam’s dental work in their country.
Earlier this year Amanda, his adult daughter, accompanied him to Mexico. Apparently she caught his sense of responsibility for serving people who receive little assistance from their government. This November she wants to go with him to Haiti, a country universally known for rampant poverty, dismal living conditions and unbridled corruption. Amanda, who has a PhD in science, is quite willing to help with dentistry.
Sometimes Sam takes along one or more clinical staff. They pay a portion of their expenses which include air fare, travel in the country, meals, accommodation, and occasionally security. When necessary, he subsidizes their participation. He pays for all his personal expenses, brings along dentistry supplies (some are provided by dental companies), plus his own compressor and dentistry unit.
For most of his assistants, this is an extraordinarily positive experience. “There was one early exception,” he noted. “A dental assistant came back with tales of flies, obnoxious odours, overwhelming heat, primitive washroom conditions and more.”
This type of dentistry requires mental and emotional adjustments. Some villages are remote, accessible only by traversing treacherous terrain. Invariably, working and living conditions are primitive.
“In one village we go to, we have to dam up the creek so we can shave and wash up at the end of the day. It’s hot and we get pretty sweaty. Also, we have to use non-digital equipment. Up to date equipment is more sensitive to impurities in the water and won’t function. When equipment breaks down, we have to fix it. If the village doesn’t have electricity, we bring a generator and gas. The environment we work in frequently isn’t very sterile.”
Adverse circumstances seem not to faze him. “Almost anything we do in our Abbotsford office, we can do there,” he said. “We regularly do root canals and the results have been very satisfactory.” He noted that at the completion of any procedure, the patient often expects to be given a pill. “For them it’s confirmation they have received medical attention.”
Intrigued by the willingness to leave behind his spotless, well equipped office to work where challenges abound, I asked what motivates him. “We go as a team,” he said. “Some of the members are young and they bring excitement. It’s a good feeling to be part of something important.”
He paused, then said, “the people are grateful for what we do. In one village they brought us the straw mattresses, bed bugs and all, from their own homes. They wanted to give something in return, even though this meant sleeping on a dirt floor. We go into their homes and become friends. What we do gives people hope. It’s a good feeling to help people who have so little.”
The pictures on Sam’s wall represent an inspiring story.
A small town perspective on people, community, politics and environment.
