Category Archives: People

Hedley Red Hats Celebrate Life With Pizzazz

Hedley Red Hat Ladies on Bus Trip to Penticton (photo by Karen Cummings)

When I opened the door to the Hedley Seniors’ Centre, I was astonished to see 10 ladies in purple garb and wearing fancy red hats. Seated at a long table, some holding coffee cups, they were engaged in animated discussion, obviously having fun. For a moment they seemed as surprised at my unanticipated appearance as I was to see them. Then, greatly amused by my baffled expression and apparently pleased by their impact, they burst into spontaneous ripples of happy laughter.

Greatly puzzled and intrigued by this unexpected apparition, I hurriedly closed the door. Walking away I pondered the meaning of this encounter. I knew each of the ladies. Surely they were not participants in a secret Hedley cult.

I subsequently learned it wasn’t the dark underbelly of Hedley society I had innocently stumbled upon. “We’re members of the Red Hat Society,” Margaret Skaar informed me several days later. “Our purpose is to give women an opportunity to have fun after reaching age 50. We meet once a month, sometimes to have breakfast together, or a potluck dinner. We also go shopping. One year we joined with several other Red Hat groups for a visit to Barkerville.”

Well, there’s a novel concept I thought. It was bringing a measure of frivolity into the lives of women, most of whom are ardent in their commitment and service to the Hedley community. Possibly without intending it, the Red Hat Society seems a very positive approach to feminism.

I did some delving and learned the society had been inspired by the poem Warning, penned by Jenny Joseph at age 29. She wrote, “When I’m an old woman, I shall wear purple, with a red hat that does not go and doesn’t suit me… . I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves and satin sandals… . I will go out in my slippers in the rain, pick flowers in other people’s gardens, and learn to spit.”

Sue Ellen Cooper of Fullerton California came upon the poem and when a close friend turned 55, gave her a red hat. She suggested her friend keep it as a reminder to “grow old playfully and on her own terms.”

Inspired by the poem and her own inauspicious act of encouragement, in1998 Cooper founded the Red Hat Society, which now has some 50,000 members worldwide. Princeton and Keremeos each have a group, although in the latter case, they are now part of the Canadian Crown Jewel’s version,

Cooper described the society as “a place where there is freedom from stereotypes and where there is fulfillment of goals and dreams. A place that offers friendship and fun after 50.” It’s motto is “Red Hatters Matter.”

Almost without exception, the Hedley Red Hatters have come out of demanding careers and now give to their community by volunteering Margaret Skaar, age 78, was a bank manager. She now serves as a Hedley Museum board member and treasurer. At the Seniors’ Centre monthly pancake breakfast, this spunky lady is at the grill cooking eggs. Beryl Wallace, formerly a teacher, has served a number of terms as chair person of the Seniors’ Centre. Ena Chiasson, age 87, is senior in years to the others. A nurse in the past, she is involved in pretty much every organization in town.

Although most are in the seventh decade or more, they refuse to accept that their active years are in the past. They are not willing to settle for a static existence in a recliner in front of the television. Red Hat ladies understand that in spite of age and health issues, it’s quite possible to join with others to relax, enjoy people, have fun, and celebrate life.

When I asked if they accept new members, Margaret said, “Definitely, and ladies under 50 are welcome. Until they are 50, they wear a pink hat.”

In a small community like Hedley, we often have to provide our own entertainment and make our own fun. The Red Hat ladies are doing this very successfully, with style and pizzazz. If I ever come upon one of their gatherings again, I may be tempted to request permission to join in their fun. Failing that, I might spend my pension on brandy, buy satin slippers, and pick flowers in my neighbour’s garden.

Dennis And Brenda Matson Bring Experience


When Dennis and Brenda Matson began attending the little church in Hedley, there was no indication he would soon become the pastor. In dress, speech and demeanor, they were entirely unpretentious. All I knew about them was that they owned a large dump truck and an excavator. People in town were calling on Dennis to do work and it became evident he had the experience, skill, and practical mind to tackle a variety of challenges.

His acquaintance with work and equipment began at a young age.“We lived on a quarter section,” he told Linda and me recently. “We called it a stump farm because it had more stumps than cows. If a piece of equipment had an engine, my dad expected us boys to run it. When I was about 10 I was assigned to take a dozer and trailer loaded with hay to feed cattle in the field.”

Dennis was born in Washington State. “When my parents got married they decided they would live there 25 years and move to Canada for the next 25. When I was 17 my Mom, a Canadian citizen, feared us boys would be drafted into the U.S. military. My parents sent us to live with a relative in Canada.”

Dennis and Brenda both grew up attending Lutheran churches and at times their paths intersected. “We knew each other as kids,” he said. “There was an aura about Brenda that sparked my interest.”

When Brenda was 13, her father passed away. After graduating, she moved to Yellowknife for a year and worked first in a detox centre, then at an A&W. Dennis took several construction equipment courses and got a job driving truck. “I walked away from God for a time,” he said. “Alcohol and drugs were plentiful. I didn’t do drugs.”

Brenda’s family lived in the same area in Alberta and “her mother was a mom to everyone,” Dennis recalled. “I gave her a ride one evening and she didn’t approve of my language.” He remembers clearly that she said only, “shame on you!”

“Over time the example of my parents, Brenda’s mom and others prompted me to begin turning toward God,” he said. A young local pastor apparently saw potential in him and invited him to become part of the church ministry team. Knowing his lifestyle was not yet wholesome, Dennis declined. “You can hide from a lot of things, but you can’t hide from a guilty conscience.”

At age 20 he and a friend scrounged up enough money for the down payment on a semi-trailer truck and began hauling beef from Alberta to Toronto. In time he sold his share in the trucking venture and moved to Toronto. Here he drove an armoured vehicle for Wells Fargo, transporting money. One day, carrying money bags from the vehicle to a bank, he saw a man observing him intently. When the man reached inside his coat, Dennis partially removed his hand gun from its holster. Their eyes locked and the man slowly withdrew his hand.

In 1976 Dennis and Brenda were married and moved to Burns Lake. “A local house church was without a pastor so I led it 2 Sundays a month,” he said. The church had no funds to pay him. For 10 years he worked in logging.

In 1986 they moved to Langley where he pastored a small congregation for 28 years, again without remuneration. They started a trucking company, Feather Weight Hauling. When the need for light weight hauling petered out, they bought a 50 ton trailer. Brenda served as dispatcher and book keeper. Occasionally she instructed an operator in loading equipment.

After 28 years of trucking and pastoring, their son’s illness brought a major upheaval. “Milo was diagnosed with an auto immune disease which attacked his kidneys,” Brenda said. “In recent years he has needed dialysis. Standing by him took up our time so we sold the business. We moved here because the climate would be better for him. He will join us when we have a suite ready.”

Concerning the Hedley pastoral role, Dennis said, “I thought that chapter was closed, but it’s fulfilling to be serving people again. Support has been overwhelming, incredible.”

I’ve seen Dennis helping put away tables and chairs after a community dinner. Brenda assisted with clean up in the kitchen. Like Graham and Myrtle Gore before them, they are already an asset to the community.

Kevin Demers Provides a Template for Success

Kevin Demers in his office at Holiday Trails Resort

He was wearing shorts and a casual, loose hanging shirt, and I could easily have concluded Kevin Demers was just one more man enjoying a comfortable retirement. At age 74 he appears not to be even thinking of retiring though. When I asked if what he is doing is still fun, he replied, “I love it!”

While still serving as an RCMP officer, Kevin launched his business career, albeit in a small way. He now owns 7 highly successful recreation centres, including Manning Park Resort and Sunshine Valley (just east of the Hope slide). In a 2 hour conversation with him at his Holiday Trails company headquarters, he talked about some of the decisions he made over many years, the risks and challenges, the successes, and much more. What he told me could serve as a template for anyone in leadership, or anyone wanting a more fulfilling life.

“As an RCMP officer I wasn’t allowed to run a business on the side at that time,” he began. “But I was permitted to build a house. I built 3 houses.” There seemed a hint of humour in his eyes. “My uncle and aunt owned a 17 site campground in Langley,” he continued. “In 1978 they were ready to retire and wanted me to buy it. This was against Mountie rules but we did it anyway. Initially we charged $4.00 a night for a family of four. I said the first day we bring in one hundred dollars we’ll open a bottle of champagne.”

Then the owner of Bedrock City at Bridal Falls said, “Kevin we desperately need a campsite.” Kevin purchased 25 acres nearby and created 45 sites. “We moved into a 14×70 foot trailer,” he said. “Shortly after launching this venture I arrived home from my RCMP job in Surrey and I didn’t see a single camper.” It wasn’t an encouraging beginning, a test of his capacity to persevere.

Another test came when he bought The Cedars RV Resort in Washington. “The police were in there on a weekly basis. Lots of drugs. It took us a year to clean it up. People think it’s easy, but it never is. Sunshine Valley took 5 years to get its head above water.” He was learning about patience.

Looking at Sunshine Valley Resort from Hwy 3 on Thanksgiving Day (2019).

Kevin knows the value of sound advice, and he listens to it. When he first considered acquiring Manning Park Resort, his friend Peter Sherle advised against it. Peter knew the equipment had fallen into serious disrepair and the reputation was tarnished. A bank appointed receiver took over when Manning went into bankruptcy. It was hemorrhaging $200,000 a year. The price dropped and Peter suggested another look. Recognizing the potential, Kevin made the move.

As Kevin talked it became clear he places a huge emphasis on creating an aura of quality and success. He wants to positively impact the perceptions of staff and visitors. “The receiver had let a lot of good people go,” he said. “We rehired the best ones. We also replaced the snow cats and trucks. Manning now has 4 buses and we’ve installed a new quad chairlift.”

He paused, then said, “Good service and a positive culture are vital in tourism. I learn by reading biographies and stories of success in business. When we travel in our motor home, I watch for good ideas. At In and Out Burgers in the U.S. I observed that workers are treated very well. The result is they are happy and friendly to customers. Their service has a 10 out of 10 rating. We tell our servers in the Manning Pinewoods Dining Room to make eye contact and ensure people feel welcome.”

Rebecca provided friendly service in the Pinewoods Dining Room, Manning Park Resort

How is Kevin’s vision playing out in the real world? For starters, he hasn’t needed the RCMP job for many years. When he returns to Holiday Trails now, he sees plenty of campers. Driving past Sunshine Valley several times this summer, I saw that the camp ground appeared filled to capacity. At Manning Park, even cabins now under construction are already fully booked. More important for Linda and me, when we had breakfast in the spacious Pinewoods dining room this summer, the portions were ample and pleasing to our palettes. Also, Rebecca, the young Irish waitress who served us was willing to engage in friendly conversation. With such an enviable track record, I’m not surprised Kevin is having fun. We can learn from him.

Visiting Manning Park Resort, this grandmother & her grandchildren are from Nanjing, China.

Nick Conquers The Pacific Crest Trail

Nick conquered the Pacific Crest Trail.

When Linda and I stopped in Manning Park last week, my attention was immediately drawn to a young man standing alone beside an oversized back pack. His lean physique, black beard and the bulky pack suggested to me he wasn’t a casual camper. I introduced myself, then asked, “Have you been camping in the park?” “My name is Nick,” he said, “I’ve just come off the Pacific Crest Trail. I started at the Mexican-U.S. Border.”

I’ve encountered intrepid souls like Nick in the past and have invariably experienced a sharp twinge of envy. Although I’ve canoed, portaged and camped in rugged wilderness, in my mind the Pacific Crest Trail is like playing in the big leagues. According to the Pacific Crest Trail Association website, “The Trail traverses 4,286 km. (2,665 mi.), mostly in rugged remote wilderness. It rises to 4,009 m. (13,153 ft). You will be on your own and safety is your responsibility.”

“Dangers may include lightning strikes, cold weather, falling rock, swift flowing streams and wild animals. Also, there’s the possibility of encountering unfriendly men with guns guarding illegal cannabis grow sites along the way, especially in California. There may be no cell service for days, or weeks. There are basically no businesses, huts or facilities, and only minimal signage.”

The website offers essential advice for anyone wanting to challenge the Trail. “You can minimize risk with knowledge, equipment and planning. Take an orienteering class and carry paper maps and a compass. Never rely solely on digital devices. Sunscreen, lip balm, a sun hat, long sleeved shirts are also important. Carry and know how to use a decently stocked first aid kit. Take 2 lighters, matches in a waterproof container and fire starter for emergencies.” For anyone planning to hike the Trail, the website is a good place to start.

Nick’s accent prompted me to ask if he was from elsewhere, “Yes,” he replied. “My home is in Munich, Germany. I came especially to hike the trail. My first day was March 29. I hiked through 500 km. of snow in the Sierra mountains.” He said it matter of factly as though it had been an expected hurdle, not something to complain about.

Only age 22, Nick is beginning to challenge himself at a good time in his life. Prior to taking his first steps on the trail, he needed to do the extensive preparation, which included coping with the myriad expectations of U.S. bureaucracy. Hikers from other countries are usually interviewed by a representative of the U.S. State Department. In addition to complex hoops at the national level, hikers must also acquire permits to pass through some local jurisdictions. Due to the length of time and distance, it isn’t possible to carry enough food and other supplies for the entire expedition. Fortunately Nick, like other hikers, was able to arrange for shipments to gas stations and other places not far from the trail. One critical aspect of his preparation was to ensure he would be off the trail and out of the U.S. within the 6 months allowed by his passport. It was a lesson in detailed planning, preparation and persistence.

Nick’s words and demeanor told of the immense sense of fulfillment and victory he was experiencing. Talking with him reminded me of the brain cancer patient who said, “give yourself a chance. Live like you are living, not like you are dying.” It also reminded me of a time early in our marriage when Linda and I seriously contemplated cycling across Canada. What a great adventure and education that would have been! But we were diverted by the pressure of mortgage payments and other responsibilities. The cycling trip remained a dream.

Nick evidently had the vision and discipline to make his trek a reality. Almost certainly, like the brain cancer patient, he believed that to live a vibrant life it’s important to abandon the places where we are comfortable and feel safe. He was willing to take a chance, push his limits and explore his staying power. The Pacific Crest Trail was likely a life altering adventure. It’s a tad late for me, but I can, and do, rejoice that he had the courage and will to get it done.

Aunt Nettie’s Family “Roll Kuchen” Gathering

Aunt Nettie, relaxing in her carport & waiting for family members to arrive.

Writing in the Wall Street Journal, U.S. Senator (Rep.) Ben Sasse pointed to a societal phenomenon many of us may have been too preoccupied to notice. He suggested “all the traditional tribes that have sustained humans for millennia are simultaneously in collapse. Family, enduring friendships, meaningful shared work, local communities of worship, all have grown ever thinner.” Other commentators, both in Canada and the U.S., have expressed a similar concern. Certainly the various media do reflect a lessening of social cohesion and we might wonder if we can do anything more than wring our hands and retreat into a state of denial and malaise.

My 88 year old Aunt Nettie, a resident of Kelowna, apparently does not intend to surrender to the subversive forces undermining our values and institutions. Every summer, for at least twelve years she has invited her nieces and nephews to her home for roll kuchen ( rolled dough cut into strips and deep fried) and watermelon, as well as other goodies. Aunt Nettie harbours no illusions about reforming and holding together the structures of our nation. She’s a plucky lady of immense resolve though, and understands the importance of cinching up family bonds. Last week she again prepared many dozens of roll kuchen. Although we knew from past years there would be no beer, wine, whiskey or other alcoholic beverages, she had no difficulty enticing eager relatives to the feast.

Aunt Nettie & her niece Martha, who did the deep frying of the roll kuchen.

For some years, four of Aunt Nettie’s aging siblings attended. This has connected us with the foregoing generation. At this time, two are still living, but only 93 year old Uncle Abe was able to come. He has completely lost the ability to speak, but still values the time with family.

For Linda and me, these yearly Kelowna gatherings are an opportunity to strengthen relationships with cousins, and at times meet family members we scarcely know. We sit on lawn chairs placed around the interior of her carport. Young children play contentedly in our midst and on the back lawn.

A few years ago Aunt Nettie’s Metis foster daughter, Andrea, surprised us when she rolled in from Clearwater on her Harley. Wanting to get to know this cousin I had not spoken with previously, I quickly slipped into the vacant chair beside her. She intrigued me with snippets of a pretty adventurous life.

This year I again chatted with Erika, a young teen who raises chickens. It was a continuation of a conversation we had begun several years ago. Having had chickens in our back yard in the past, I enjoy her enthusiasm for the birds. “I got 12 chicks in spring,” she said. “I named each one after a type of tree.” Sensing her excitement, I remembered the warm brown eggs I used to gather each morning. Chats with Erika always cause me to wonder why I don’t still have chickens.

After talking with Erika I glanced around the carport and my attention was captured by a young girl with black hair. About age 3, she ran among us with boundless energy. She seemed happy and content, and totally secure. I marveled at the atmosphere in this place. There was no disagreement or bickering, even among the children.

Uncle Abe & Aunt Nettie, seated side by side, with several family members

Watching Aunt Nettie now in conversation with Uncle Abe, her hand resting on his arm, my mind drifted back a dozen years to the beginning of his health crisis. When she learned her brother wasn’t well and needed to be rescued from the basement suite in Langley where he lived alone, she took decisive action. She drove from her home in Kelowna, emptied and cleaned his unit, then took him to her home. She looked after him until his condition necessitated a higher level of care. Even now, although he cannot speak, she visits him each Sunday. For us, the next generation, she is a role model exemplifying the meaning of commitment to family.

After the Kelowna gathering, it occurred to me we’re pretty fortunate to have a family member with the vision and will necessary to pull together this large flock. Families are the basic building blocks of our society. If more of us become willing to be proactive role models, we may yet be able to thwart at least some of the corroding forces in our country. Roll kuchen may not be essential. With will and imagination, one individual can be the catalyst required for holding a family together.

Rescue Of A Baby Bird

Frank Schroeder gently cradled the baby bird.

When a bird flies into the window of a home it is likely to fall to the earth, shake its head tentatively, and then resume flight. If the impact is of sufficient force, of course, it may cause instant demise. Having seen this happen, I was puzzled when I saw a young bird sitting unmoving on the wooden walkway in front of our patio doors. An hour later, I was surprised to find it had not moved. It appeared to be in a state of stupor and I guessed it must have struck the glass hard enough to become disoriented. At this time it was still in shade, but I knew if it didn’t move the scorching heat of the Hedley sun would soon sap any strength it still possessed. I felt uncertain as to how I should respond to the bird’s dilemma and drew Linda’s attention to it.

Fortunately she remembered that our 83 year old neighbour, Frank Schroeder, is an avid birder. He has worked in federal prisons and has been a successful realtor. But his great unwavering interest over the years has been observing birds. Linda put in an SOS phone call to him. Instantly intrigued and concerned, he dropped what he was doing and knocked on our front door in under 5 minutes.

Not wanting to frighten the bird, he approached it slowly, speaking in soothing tones. Fearing he was a predator, the young bird willed itself to take a few steps, but then lost its balance and tumbled off the walkway. Frank’s large hands encircled it and he cradled it gently.

It’s very young, a meadow lark,” he said, examining the little creature. “This may have been it’s maiden flight. Possibly it hasn’t yet really figured out how to fly, or it may have just got lost.”

I observed that he was entirely comfortable holding the bird. “My fascination with birds began when I was six years old,” he explained. “We lived on a farm and I had been watching the young swallows sitting on the rim of their nest, built against the end wall of our barn. They were not yet willing to take flight, but I decided the time had come for them to venture out.”

It was evident Frank’s mind was reliving this earlier scene. “I leaned my dad’s ladder against the end of the barn. Due to a growth of bramble bushes, I needed to place it almost straight up. I climbed to the nest, removed one of the little ones from its perch on the rim and tucked it into a pocket. This really rattled the parents. They began buzzing me, beating their wings hard against the back of my head. When I inadvertently pushed the ladder and myself away from the barn wall, I suddenly found myself launched backward into the air and landed in the prickly bramble bushes. Fortunately I suffered no broken bones. More important, the baby swallow wasn’t injured. My pride was the only casualty.”

Frank departed, still holding the infant meadow lark in his hands. I called him the following morning to check on his patient. “In the evening yesterday,” he reported, “I placed it in a box on a chair where no preying cat could reach it. I put water and food in the box. This morning when I came out onto my porch the bird had managed to fly to the top of the backrest of the chair. I went inside to have breakfast. When I came back out, the bird had flown down and was on my sidewalk, seemingly waiting for me. It glanced back, as though it knew me. Then it flew into some bushes and was gone. I consider it a successful rescue on our part.”

Manning Park Resort, Once Again There’s Sizzle

Manning Park Resort in winter (before the additions)

For years my wife Linda and I stopped at Manning Park Resort on our way to the Fraser Valley. In summer the towering green mountains inspired us. Covered with snow in winter, they were equally sensational. Also, the resort’s coffee pleased our palates. It was disquieting when an employee in the store told us the resort had been placed in receivership and she expected to lose her job.

After languishing in receivership for several years and then being closed, we heard the resort had been acquired by the ownership of Sunshine Valley. Initially I wondered if this was a case of over reach. To me it seemed Sunshine Valley might not have the resources for such a complex acquisition.

Several weeks ago Linda and I participated in the resort’s annual promotional tour. At breakfast on the second day we quite unexpectedly noticed Kevin Demers, the new owner, and another individual on the far side of the spacious dining room. When they rose to leave, I approached Kevin, introduced myself and asked if he had time to talk. “I can give you 10 minutes,” he said.

Kevin Demers, owner of Manning Park Resort

Sitting at a table, coffee cup in hand, he began with, “The resort was in receivership and things were so bad, we were advised not to touch it. There was a 3 million dollar mortgage. The resort was losing $200,000 a year. With the passing of time though, and no serious buyers, the price went down sufficiently for us to take a look.”

He reflected a moment, then continued, “The receiver closed the doors in April, 2013 and we re-opened them in May. Nearly everything was broken or wouldn’t work. We needed to buy new vehicles and hire staff. Plus, we needed to repair the resort’s tarnished image.”

Robyn Barker was born at Manning Park.

We had learned something about the difficult receivership years the previous day while on a bus tour with Marketing Coordinator, Robyn Barker. Her parents had lived at Manning in an earlier time, and she was born in staff housing with the assistance of 2 mid-wives. After the family moved to Hope, they returned to Manning regularly. “I pretty much grew up here on weekends,” Robyn said. “At about age 15 I started giving skiing lessons. Before the receivership we had great camaraderie, but with the bankruptcy that fell away. Morale was low and the optimism was gone. We refer to that time as The Dark Years.”

During the tour Robyn mentioned Kevin was an ex-RCMP officer. I now asked him how a Mountie had managed to buy the resort. “I joined the RCMP when I was 19 and served from 1964–1987,” he replied. “I knew I wanted something more. In 1978 I bought my first campground. In 1980 I bought the Bridal Falls Park. By the time I bought Manning, I already owned 6 successful RV parks. Even now the banks won’t touch this place, so everything we do comes from cash flow. I sat on the board of Envision Financial and got an education there.”

Kevin was warming to his subject and he blew through the promised 10 minutes. “We’ve spent a lot of money to get the best,” he said. “We built 5 premium cabins and we’ve started another 8. There’s already a waiting list for them. Our orange chairlift was 49 years old, and by this winter we will have replaced it with a new Quad Chairlift at a cost close to $3 million.”

He paused, then said, “We added the Alpine Room to accommodate larger weddings, education events and conferences. We want to add 4 floors and an elevator to the Lodge, as funds become available. Our long term plan is to continue expanding. We’ve given BC Parks a new master plan that will extend our permits to 80 years.” He glanced at his watch and said, “I have a meeting.”

“The Last Resort”, a favorite venue for large groups.

For Linda & me, the 2 days created memories. We were captivated by the colour and serene beauty of Lightning Lake. We’d like to return and hike into the other 3 lakes, Flash, Strike and Thunder. Another highlight was our visit to Cascade Lookout, elevation 1830 ft. It was blustery up there, but the view created memories that will likely never totally fade. Even higher are the alpine meadows with their colourful wild flowers. Manning Park Resort again has a lot to offer. Enough to add plenty of delightful sizzle to just about any bucket list.

Judge Matthew Begbie, Hero, Villain, Frontiersman, Human

Matthew Baillie Begbie (Wikipedia)

(The following is the text of a talk delivered by William L. Day at the Hedley Historical Museum celebration of Canada Day (2019). A part-time resident of Hedley, Day is a former President of Douglas College, and more recently, a Citizenship Judge. In this talk he challenges the commonly held view of Judge Matthew Begbie as the “Hanging Judge”. A.M.)

Judge Matthew Begbie

Some of this material was sourced from the Victoria Times Colonist and material written by Stephen Hume in the Vancouver Sun newspaper.  

Matthew Begbie was the colony of B.C.’s first judge from 1858-71 and the new province’s first Chief Justice from 1871-1894. He held court in almost every settlement in the province, often under trees or in tents.  He was an appointee of the then British Colonial Office and as such was the unassailable final legal authority in the future British Columbia.

Begbie proved to be the ideal man for the job. He was tough, hardy, adventurous, adaptable, fair-minded and determined. He wasn’t popular except with First Nations chiefs, with whom he was prepared to communicate and whose rights he frequently defended.

In 1865 alone, he covered about 5,600 kilometres on foot, on horseback and by canoe. In the Stikine country in 1879, the year he turned 60, his party lived mainly off the land, “eating rabbits, grouse and squirrels, most of which Begbie himself shot.” He loved the outdoors.  He is a hero to lovers of Victoria’s Beacon Hill Park for his ruling in 1884 preserving it from development.

But the so-called “Hanging Judge” was controversial almost from the moment he stepped off the boat in 1858.  The phrase apparently stemmed from references to him as the “Haranguing Judge” from his extended diatribes during and after jury trials.  It was transliterated in later years after his death, by people ignorant of the actual circumstances of his life and work.

At one of his first trials, he told the assembled miners – mostly Californians – that in the U.S. they might govern “by the Bowie knife and the Colt’s pistol,” but not in British Columbia.

Begbie was also controversial for his racial attitudes, telling a royal commission in 1884 that the “four prominent qualities” of the Chinese were “industry, economy, sobriety and law abidingness.” And that, he said, was the main reason they were unpopular. The Daily British Colonist (now the Times Colonist) criticized him for this, maintaining that the Chinese were “hereditarily on a lower plane of civilization.”

With reference to Begbie’s attitude toward native peoples, in 1860, Governor James Douglas had to deal with complaints that Begbie had allowed a white man to be convicted of assault at Yale “wholly on testimony from Indians.”

In the ensuing years, Begbie continued to condemn “racial jealousy” and set aside convictions under discriminatory bylaws dealing with such matters as licences for Chinese laundries and pawnshops whenever these issues came before him. A century before Canada adopted its Charter of Rights, he described such laws as an infringement “at once of personal liberty, and of the equality of all men before the law, and also a negation of international rights.”  On his last circuit in 1889, when he was 71, he renewed old acquaintances in the Cariboo, describing the Chinese who had been there since the gold rush 30 years earlier as “better British Columbians than nine-tenrhs of the later arrivals.”

Other decisions also raised eyebrows.  In 1889, he overturned the conviction of a man who had pleaded guilty to potlatching, holding that the law against it was too vague and unfair to support lawful convictions.  This rendered the potlatch ban a “dead letter” until, after Begbie’s death, Parliament strengthened it.

His positive opinion of B.C.’s Indigenous Peoples, formed early on, did not change throughout his lifetime.

Begbie  protected the territorial integrity of the Songhees Reserve in Victoria City, a case that illustrated his belief that, if at all possible, justice should trump legal technicalities. He was a skilled lawyer and judge, but as he put it himself, camping on the hard ground and coping with an overturned canoe were more important than legal niceties in the new colony.

Unlike most of his contemporaries, Begbie was fluent in several languages, including the Chinook Jargon – the trading language of the entire Pacific Coast – and made a concerted effort to learn some of B.C.’s Indigenous languages.

Was he a “Hanging Judge”?  Where he had discretion, he could certainly impose a harsh sentence if he thought it was justified. But he had no discretion in capital cases: When the jury convicted someone of murder — and all such trials in Begbie’s court were jury trials — the death penalty was mandatory. 

His biographer could find no evidence that he was described as a hanging judge in his lifetime.  Ironically, Begbie never considered a career in the military because he “found it abhorrent to take human life.”

Begbie is also controversial today for his role as Presiding Judge in the trial of the Tsilhqot’in chiefs who made war on the mainland colony in 1864. The evidence strongly suggests that they were tricked into surrendering and the jury convicted five of the six notwithstanding that they had meant “war, not murder.” The death penalty was automatic.  Begbie’s own notes at the time stated that the native chiefs viewed themselves as at war. These very notes were used in the Canadian Supreme Court decisions supporting the Chilcotin government’s legal case over land control in their territory.

In his report on the trial to the governor, Begbie said that it “seems horrible to hang five men at once — especially under the circumstances of the capitulation. Yet the blood of 21 whites calls for retribution.” He added that he was glad the decision was not his to make.

Both levels of government have since exonerated the executed men.  The Law Society of British Columbia has removed Begbie’s statue from the foyer of its building, citing his role in the Tsilhqot’in trials.  New Westminster Council has voted to remove the Begbie bust from the courthouse at Begbie Square.

What would Begbie have thought of this? His instructions to his executors were that “no other monument than a wooden cross be erected on my grave, that there be no flowers and no inscription but my name, dates of birth and death and ‘Lord be Merciful to Me a Sinner.’ ”

British Columbia’s first chief justice is often called “The Hanging Judge.” In fact, Matthew Begbie was progressive, lenient, championed the rights of indigenous and other minorities exposed to racism, and didn’t hesitate to speak truth to power — in his case, colonial authorities.

William L. Day

01 July, 2019

Graham Gore Was A Force in the Community

Graham & Myrtle Gore at our Hedley home June 6, 2019

Graham Gore has been a pastor for much of the second half of his 80 years. The first half was quite unlike that of most pastors and it has influenced his approach to life and to his spiritual calling. In a conversation in our home, just prior to his retirement in mid-June he said, “Before becoming a pastor, I worked for an automotive dealership in the parts department. I drank too much and developed into an alcoholic. I smoked 2 to 3 packs a day. It wasn’t an uplifting lifestyle and my first marriage ended in divorce.”

Alcohol and tobacco ruled his life for many years, but they lost their power over him in one day. “It happened when I came to Jesus,” he said. Holding a cup of Linda’s coffee he emphasized, “I’m not a a recovered alcoholic. I’m a delivered alcoholic.” His previous neighbour across the street sometimes called Graham over for a beer. If he had the time, Graham would accept the invitation, but he always refused a second one. “I have no desire for more,” he said. He considered the one beer a common ground with his Harley riding neighbour.

After the divorce, Graham married Myrtle. He found God, studied for the ministry and became a pastor. Four years before settling in Hedley, they bought a camperized Greyhound bus and joined a traveling evangelism team holding meetings across Canada. When their home on wheels was demolished in an accident August 2002, they bought a home in Hedley.

Prior to the evangelism team, I had pastored in two places and I was weary,” he said. “I didn’t want to attend church here, but I went because Myrtle wanted to go.” He was soon asked to pastor the local church and was surprised to discover the experience invigorated him spiritually.

Graham Gore in front of the Hedley Volunteer Fire Department fire truck.

Graham was willing to give time and energy to the greater community. When the fire department needed members with a licence endorsement to drive the fire truck, Graham agreed to join. Endowed with leadership ability, people came to trust him. “I was asked to become manager of the fire department and I agreed to do it for one year,” he said. “I found it enjoyable and carried on until about a year ago. I worked hard to raise the level of professionalism and to stay within the budget.”

Myrtle Gore at the front door of her home.

In church, Myrtle played the piano and organ and was generous with smiles, hugs and welcoming words. Although she was never in the forefront in the community, Graham deeply values her inner strength and resolve. “Myrtle teaches me to be more gracious,” he said. “She is a tremendous encouragement to me and often gives me the incentive when I don’t feel like doing something.”

I have at times heard Graham described as “pastor to the community.” For Linda and me an early experience with his ministry style came when our car was totaled by an impatient driver on Highway 3. We had been in his church a few times but didn’t know him well. He showed up at the crash site and said, “I’ll deliver you and your things to your home. Tomorrow I’ll take you to Penticton to arrange for a vehicle.” He cheerfully followed through on this the next day but refused any compensation, even for gas.

When I wanted to shovel his driveway in winter he said, “No, don’t do that. I want to hire a young fellow to do that.” It was his way of encouraging a young man who had known mostly failure and rejection.

As a community we have come to depend on Graham for marriages and celebrations of life. He has conducted the Hedley Improvement District elections. For many years, he has been the M.C. at Remembrance Day ceremonies. When someone needed a ride to Penticton for a medical appointment, Graham has said many times, “I’ll do it.” He enthusiastically supported a yearly church bottle drive to send Hedley kids to Camp Tulahead. He often said, “We never turn anyone away.”

Graham Gore, on his 4-legged wooden stool, close to the congregation.

To be close to the congregation, Graham long ago relegated the church pulpit to an obscure corner in another room. His only financial compensation has been a modest annual honorarium. “My caring for the community is motivated by my love for God and for people,” he said. “Being a pastor here has been very fulfilling. Myrtle and I are really going to miss Hedley.”

Aunt Doll Turns 101

Aunt Doll raises a finger to represent 101 years.

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.

Singing happy birthday to Aunt Doll