Only A Child, Only At Christmas

December 17, 2017 Art Martens 2 Comments

Taegert, B.C. 1979. It was Christmas Eve in Taegert, a small remote former gold mining community in northern B.C. Snow had begun falling steadily the previous night and the mountains surrounding our little town were now bedecked with a soft white mantel. Through the still falling snow, plumes of grey wood smoke streamed upward from chimneys into the dark sky.

My wife and I leaned forward, pressing into the chill north wind flinging snow into our cold faces. Not far ahead snow laden figures loomed out of the whiteness of the night. We were all hurrying, adults and children, to get a good seat at the Christmas Eve celebration in the community hall.

We arrived to find the hall already packed with a boisterous crowd. The only place was along the back wall with other stragglers. Outside, cold snow hurled itself at the hall, but inside it was toasty. The ancient pot bellied wood stove was working its magic. In one corner an enormous fir tree, with lights, ornaments and tinsel encouraged a holiday spirit.

The program MC, Marty Dyke, slipped from behind a curtain at the left end of the stage. She was a robust woman, something her loose, bright red dress could not hide. With a hearty laugh and booming voice, she said, “ Welcome to our community’s 38th Christmas concert.” Then she turned to the side of the stage where she had entered. “ Without further adieu, let’s put our hands together and bring on the famous Jones family!” There was clapping, hollering and stamping of feet.

The Jones clan came hustling on stage with guitars, fiddles, harmonicas and a banjo. Grandpa Jones began belting out the tunes and his whole lusty clan backed him up like they were on stage at Nashville, Tennessee. Pretty quick folks were smiling and singing along. A few pretty young girls in bright dresses danced in the aisles. It was a Christmas hootenanny. Marty always introduced them first because they knew how to stir up the crowd’s Christmas spirit.

Everyone settled down when 11 year old Susie Thomas began telling about the baby Jesus born in Bethlehem and laid in a manger. “It happened in a stable,” she said, “and there were probably sheep and donkeys watching. And shepherds came from taking care of their flocks in the fields.” She seemed awed by the event. Susie was followed by Mrs. Brown reading her latest Christmas poem.

Everyone was having a grand time. Everyone except me, that is. Just before the program started, Marty Dyke had whispered to me, “I’ve asked your friend J.K. Barnabas to bring his guitar and sing two or three tunes at the end. Be a fine way to wrap up the evening, don’t you think?” It was too late to change things, so I remained silent.

I was concerned because J.K.’s a black man. A big old white haired blues singer who used to perform in bars in cities like Winnipeg, Vancouver and Seattle. Not that anyone in Taegert would object to him singing blues, or to him being black. No one that is, except Gerhardt Gruber. And, in a way, old Gruber had a pretty good reason for not liking black men. He had nothing against black women.

In the big war back in the forties, he and his son were in the same company in the German Wehrmacht. In close combat, a black Yankee soldier shot the son dead right in front of Gruber. He’s been bitter against black men since that day.

That’s why I was troubled about J.K. Barnabas getting in front of this crowd. Gruber might have a flashback. What if he did something crazy? J.K. isn’t a well man. He doesn’t need that.

While my mind was thinking about these things, the evening was flying by. Now Marty called on J.K. He walked to the front slowly and sat down on a hard wooden bench. After taking a moment to adjust the guitar strings, he grinned at the children in the front row and launched into a frisky rendition of Frosty the Snowman. Next he pleased the crowd with Rudolph the Red Nosed reindeer. Everyone cheered when he was done, but not Gruber.

Then the raucous, buoyant mood was gone and he seemed to forget we were there. He drifted into a tune I was sure he had written himself.

“I woke up this mornin’ and the sun, it didn’t shine,
Was sittin’ in my room all alone, didn’t have one friend I could say was mine.
Too many nights in the bars, too many days on the road, now this body’s gettin’ old.
Snow’s fallin’ and I’m feelin’ mighty low, oh yes, I’m feelin’ mighty low.
My little baby’s gone.
She’s grown up big, don’t come to her daddy no more to play.
Sure has broke this old man’s heart.
Oh Yeah, sure has broke this old man’s heart.”

Then he was quiet, still sitting on the bench, a lonely old blues man. A single tear rolled slowly down one cheek.

A hush fell over the hall, and no one cheered or moved. It seemed everyone was expecting something to happen.

I heard the rustle of a dress and I looked to my left where old Gruber was sitting, arms crossed over his chest and face hard as the barrel of a German army rifle. Before he could stop her, his pretty little granddaughter had slipped off his lap and was running to where the white haired J.K. Barnabas was sitting.

Gruber's granddaughter offering her baby to Mr. JK — Gruber’s granddaughter offering her baby to Mr. JK

“Here, Mr. J.K.” she said, holding a little blond doll toward him. “Take my baby. She’ll make you happy. I have more babies at home.”

I think everyone stopped breathing and looked at old Gruber. His stiff white Wehrmacht moustache made him look real serious.

And then it happened. Gruber got up. Using his cane, he walked unsteadily to where his granddaughter and JK. were. He sat down on the bench next to J.K. and lifted the little girl onto the black man’s lap. Although he wasn’t a religious man, far as I knew, he began singing “Stille Nacht, Heilige Nacht,” in his native German, his sweet tenor carrying the words throughout the hall. After hesitating a moment, the old blues man joined his deep baritone to Gruber’s tenor.

“Silent night. Holy night. All is calm, all is bright.
Round yon virgin mother and child
Holy infant so tender and mild,
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace.”

Then everyone was singing, and when the song was done, I saw men and women laughing and crying, shaking hands and embracing. At the front of the room, I saw the old black man and the old German army officer rise and embrace.

Taegert was never quite the same again. There was more of a sense of peace. And that’s why I say, “Only a child could have accomplished what happened in our little town that night. And only at Christmas.”

(first published Dec. 2014)

Hedley Times, People

Foundation Fosters Change

December 9, 2017 Art Martens 1 Comment

Gerry & Julie Beauchemin, a “Foundation” success story.

There was at one time a small cabal of disgruntled elderly men in Hedley who wanted local people to believe the One Way Adventure Foundation was a cult. I would have been interested in their reaction had they been present when Gerry and Julie Beauchemin told Linda and me about the impact of the “Foundation” on their lives.

“I’m surprised I’m alive today,” Gerry began. Sitting beside him on the couch in their Penticton home, Julie nodded and said, “I was mixing drugs and alcohol. I wanted to slowly and surely die. I hoped to escape life.”

The organization was established in Surrey in 1973 by Len and Jean Roberts, who until recently lived in Princeton. Their goal was to engage troubled teens in challenging activities, develop positive relationships and point them to a more productive life. They purchased the Hedley property to provide housing and free the youths from unhealthy city distractions and influences.

For Gerry, as with a lot of youths in care, home was not a sanctuary. “My mom died of cancer when I was 10,” he said. “Dad married a woman who had 2 kids. She didn’t like me. Her kids could do no wrong, I could do no right. Dad was away at work a lot and my life began unraveling. Pretty soon only kids with their own home problems would accept me. We stole cars and did B & E’s.”

Deeming him out of control in the community, his Probation Officer sent Gerry to the House of Concord in Langley, then to Outward Bound, at that time near Keremeos. Things didn’t improve and out of desperation Gerry was sent to the Foundation’s Surrey location. For 8 months he lived in a staff home, which he preferred over his parents’ home. He participated in the program but continued to create havoc with his street friends. “That’s why Len sent me to Hedley,” he said with just the hint of a smile.

For Julie, home was not a sanctuary either. “My dad was a problem for me,” she said. “I didn’t feel safe around him. Mom kept quiet. My brothers and I tried to poison her. I roamed the streets with a knife up my sleeve. Alcohol, and medications I stole from drug stores dulled my inner pain. When I OD’d, the Fire Department saved my life. ”

Julie’s chaotic, unruly street lifestyle prompted her harried PO to send her to Hedley. “We did rappelling, rock climbing and chimneying,” she said, “also a 2 week canoe expedition on the Bowron Lakes.”

“When I turned 17,” she continued, “my P.O. put me in the Foundation’s adult program in Surrey. I lived with Len and Jean Roberts. They became like parents to me. I still call Jean mom.”

Now Gerry nodded agreement. “When I came to Surrey for a weekend,” he recalled, “I went to Len and Jean’s place, not to my parents. From them, and from Jim, my worker in Hedley, I learned about unconditional love. They didn’t reject me when I caused trouble. I wanted to earn their trust.”

When a worker with a Black Belt began teaching karate, Gerry joined. He trained rigorously, and eventually achieved his own Black Belt.

Gerry and Julie agreed participating in challenging recreation and work projects developed their confidence. Observing positive interactions between couples and how they dealt with their children enlarged their understanding of family. “Everything really changed in a big way when I let God come into my life,” Gerry said. “It was that way for me too,” Julie added.

As young adults, they applied to enter the Foundation’s Leadership School and were accepted. In time Gerry became a creative and trusted program coordinator, respected by the youths he worked with. Julie was a leader in the girls program.

With growing maturity and an understanding they didn’t need to repeat the errors of their parents, they married in 1980. Today they have 3 daughters and 8 grandchildren, all doing well. Gerry is currently on longterm disability due to an earlier back injury. Julie has worked at Walmart since 2006.

Leaving their past behind and striving to develop into responsible, contributing citizens has been an arduous journey at times, but they have persevered. “We work at our relationship,” Gerry told us. “And we work at who we are,” Julie added. The aforementioned disgruntled cabal of elderly men might be impressed.

People, Politics

Dianne Watts, A Proven Leader

December 2, 2017 Art Martens 1 Comment

Can Dianne Watts, popular and highly regarded former mayor of Surrey, win leadership of the B.C. Liberal Party? When she announced her candidacy, one front runner in the leadership race quickly labeled her an “outsider.” Outsiders are rarely welcomed by those grasping the levers of power.

In a telephone conversation with Watts last week, I asked if being perceived as an outsider is an asset or a liability. “It’s an asset,” she responded without hesitation. “I don’t have to explain the budget.” She was, of course, referring to the desperate Liberal attempt to stay in office by unabashedly adopting much of the NDP platform in their doomed final budget.

My interest in Watts’ candidacy stems from a concern that the former cabinet ministers, if elected, would almost certainly not represent a positive change from the past. They have said publicly, “we stopped listening to the people.” Steeped in this stultifying culture of political deafness, have they now been given a miraculous desire to listen? Was their initial post-election hand-wringing an indication of repentance, or of sorrow at losing power?

Examining Watts’ personal and political history, I came to understand she definitely wasn’t given a free pass to success. Talking about her early years she told me “I was a classic case of a kid at risk and a runaway. By age 17 I was on my own. The time came when I knew I’d have to choose which path I wanted to take. Difficult experiences can make us stronger if we choose to move forward. I chose to move forward.”

When she worked on a friend’s political campaign, some well connected individuals urged her to run for Surrey Council. She won a seat in 1996 and in 2005 defeated entrenched mayor, Doug McCallum. Watts needed all her grit, stamina and leadership skills to win over a hostile council.

A former MLA who at times worked closely with Watts said, “She was very good to work with. She knew what she didn’t know and asked questions. She organized a very successful Economic and Social Development conference. Dianne was strong on the anti-gang file. She also did a lot to change Surrey’s reputation as the welfare capital of B.C. She has excellent political instincts.”

A January, 2013 editorial in The Province observed “… in Watts you have a politician who listens to and works for voters, versus a provincial government that does things to voters, while refusing to hear them. Watts name always comes up whenever people talk about who would make a good premier.”

After establishing a solid track record as mayor, she didn’t run in 2014. She subsequently won the South Surrey-White Rock seat in Parliament. “Resigning your seat and running for the leadership seems pretty risky,” I suggested. “Why take that risk?”

“Staying in Parliament would have been easier,” she agreed. “It was about my connection to the province. I saw the frustration across the province, the disappointment.”

Looking ahead she said, “when you’re elected, you’re in service to the people. I entered the leadership race to effect change, to change peoples’ lives for the better. To do that we need to rebuild and refresh the party. We need to rebuild the trust. Politics is a mechanism to do the work that needs to be done. If elected, I will work with caucus to develop a viable plan for the entire province.”

What does she believe needs to be done? “Among other things, we need to make housing more affordable. Affordability isn’t just a Lower Mainland issue. We need to give more attention to seniors issues, mental health, addiction, and Alzheimer’s. The time has come to strengthen partnerships between local communities and the province.”

As mayor of Surrey, Watts developed a pretty decent record. She was named 4^th best mayor in the world by the UK based City Mayors Foundation. Surrey had the lowest residential and business tax rates in Metro Vancouver. She became known for taking good ideas off the drawing board and turning them into reality.

Watts’ track record suggests she has the leadership skills, understanding of government, and authenticity the B.C. Liberal Party needs to again become a viable option citizens can trust and vote for.

To support her leadership bid requires membership in the BC Liberal party. Deadline to join is December 29, 2017. For further information, google Dianne Watts or phone 604-265-9846.

Community, People

Jody Woodford, Proud of Tulameen Fire Department

November 25, 2017 Art Martens 1 Comment

Jody Woodford, Chief of Tulameen Fire Department

Considering Jody Woodford’s chaotic early home life, I would not have guessed she would one day be chief of the Tulameen Fire Department. “We lived in the Yukon for about 10 years,” she told Linda and me. “My father was a heavy equipment operator. We lived in a school bus and every time Dad was sent to a new job, we moved. Sometimes my sister and brother and I went to a school for a week and then we moved. One year we moved 10 times.”

In spite of the family’s lacklustre circumstances, there was a positive thread. “Mom and Dad wanted us to have a better life. They wanted us to be resourceful, resilient and independent. We were a tightly knit family and when our parents had health problems, us kids accepted a lot of responsibility.”

Her Dad was a big man, close to 500 pounds. “He drove fast and was hard on transmissions. When I was 13, my two younger siblings and I changed the transmission on our Chevette. Dad coached us at every step.”

Her father’s health began to fail and in 1983 the family moved to Princeton where she graduated from high school in 1988. “I enrolled in a heavy transport mechanics course,” she said. “I did the practical training and got my papers. By then Dad had terminal cancer and Mom’s health wasn’t great. My parents had bought a small home in Coalmont, their first ever. The foundation consisted of cottonwood stumps. I went there to take care of Dad. It was just something we had learned at home. Dad died in 1993.”

Her mother didn’t have the income to make the mortgage payments so Jody and her sister worked and by 1995 the home was paid for. Then a flood destroyed the home. “There was no insurance, so my sister, brother and I began building a new house for Mom,” Jody said. “I studied books to learn how. Our neighbours helped and the building inspector gave us advice. It was a community project and Mom got her first brand new home ever. That was my beginning in carpentry, which is how I now make a living.”

Physically strong and willing to contribute to her community, she was asked in 1998 to join the Tulameen Fire Department. “For the first 17 years the Fire Department paid only for basic training. I took extra courses and paid for them myself. I wanted to have the knowledge to do the job.”

Ten years ago the department needed a new chief, but no one stepped forward. By this time Jody was probably the most qualified member of the department. “It scared me,” she said, “but I accepted the position.” At that time there was no remuneration for going out on calls.

Jody Woodford & the Tulameen Fire Department

“It’s a team effort,” she stressed. “I’m very lucky to be working with committed firefighters. The community has been great too. We work together to make things happen. We have year round bottle drives. We put on dances and sell fire wood. The whole valley gets involved in fund raising. In the beginning they used a septic truck to haul water. Now we have 3 trucks. In February we took delivery of a new Freightliner. We turned an impossibility into a possibility.”

Being Chief requires her to be strong in crises. “I’m pretty emotional but there are times when I have to be a rock,” she admitted. “It was extremely hard when a very close friend, a fellow fire fighter was killed in a car accident.”

It became clear to me that Jody has reflected on her life and gleaned insights. “Some people allow themselves to be consumed by their circumstances. At home us kids learned we could make better choices. From my friend who died I learned I should get to know people, and not make assumptions.”

She is proud of the Fire Department and the community that has worked and sacrificed to strengthen and modernize it. She values the opportunity to grow. “It has enabled me to help people in crises situations,” she said. “Sometimes I’m as scared as they, but I have to act in spite of the fear.”

Living in a bus, changing schools repeatedly and not being able to develop lasting early friendships, could have caused Jody to flounder. Instead, she chose to view her life experiences as preparation to take on greater challenges in the future.

Jody & her siblings are still close. This is a gingerbread house she created with her niece and nephew last Christmas.

People, Politics

Corky Evans, Not Jaded Or Bitter

November 19, 2017 Art Martens 2 Comments

Corky Evans (photo supplied by Corky Evans)

After a 2 hour telephone conversation with former provincial cabinet minister Corky Evans, I concluded that unlike some retired politicians, he has not become disappointed, jaded or bitter. Certainly it could have turned out otherwise. But now living with Helen Sebelius, his partner of 15 years, he retains a wonderful sense of humour and laughs easily.

“I was born in California and grew up in Berkley,” he said. “There were angry protests by university students against U.S. involvement in the Vietnam war. My wife and I were troubled by the unrest so we took our 2 daughters and moved to Canada. Our son was born shortly after we arrived. I had no money, no college education and I didn’t speak French. But I was willing to work.” Looking back now, he feels his experience as a stevedore, logger and heavy equipment operator later gave him an understanding of people in a variety of circumstances.

.Corky managed to buy 5 acres on the Slocan River and built a house. With a note of pleasure in his voice he said,”for 20 years I got to be a logger.”

“Against the Wind Farm” on the Slocan River.

In 1975 he became a Canadian citizen and joined the NDP. His community activities suggest his motivation in politics was not greed, a thirst for power, or prestige. Seeing the need to control the devastation created by large logging operations and wanting to protect forests and water, he became immersed in the Slocan Valley Forest Management project. It was at this time that Corky began to demonstrate a willingness to speak publicly against corporate disregard for the environment and government inaction. He was becoming one of that all too rare breed that will not remain silent, even when others hesitate.

Realizing an elected position would give him a stronger voice in community issues, he ran for a position on the Central Kootenay Regional District government. He earned a measure of trust and served 3 terms, growing in political awareness, instinct and courage. All attributes he would need at the provincial level.

His willingness to publicly speak on significant local issues was attracting attention. Only in his late 20’s, he was urged to seek the NDP nomination for the Nelson/Creston riding in the 1986 provincial election. “I worked hard and won the nomination,” he said. “I was quite well known locally, but not in Creston.”

A friend suggested he enter a car in the Creston Demolition Derby because it was the big event of the year. “Social Credit was strong in the area so I bought a puppet of Bill Vanderzalm and attached it to the front of an old vehicle. I hoped other contestants wouldn’t smash the radiator. I also attached a puppet of Mike Harcourt on the rear, thinking they would focus on it. I placed third in the derby and won $20.00.” His participation wasn’t enough though, and he lost the election by a narrow margin.

He subsequently ran in four more elections, and lost only in the 2001 rout of the NDP. Although named to high profile cabinet positions like health, transportation, and agriculture, he found time for local issues and played a key role in developing the Columbia Basin Trust. “Sometimes I think of it as my child,” he said.

He believed MLA’s should be permitted to disagree with the party leader. Even though it was politically dangerous, he spoke publicly in defense of Bob Simpson when party leader Carole James booted Simpson out of caucus for criticizing her. Another time some MLA’S met with James privately to suggest a leadership review. At a caucus meeting she had staff hand out yellow ribbons to MLA’s not involved in this request, thereby singling out the “culprits.” When she castigated them publicly, Corky spoke strongly in their defense. He didn’t hesitate to jeopardize his own position in caucus.

Helen was concerned about Corky’s health because he had already dealt with heart issues and a bout with cancer. Prior to the 2009 election she asked, “Do you want to die in the legislature or do you want to die on your tractor?” This question clarified his thinking and he realized he wanted to die in his community, not with strangers.

Helen grows cut flowers on “Against the Wind Farm”.

Now living on their “Against the Wind Farm” alongside the Slocan River, Corky grows organic blueberries, potatoes and squash, and raises turkeys. Helen grows cut flowers. “It’s a wonderful life,” he said.

Corky Evans enjoys working on the “Against the Wind Farm”.

Hedley Times, People

Gerry St. Germain, Making A Difference

November 15, 2017 Art Martens 1 Comment

Gerry St. Germain at Stirling Creek Ranch, Hedley, BC

Former federal cabinet minister and Canadian Senator, Gerry St. Germain knows the feeling of being underestimated. In a conversation with Linda and me in his home at the Stirling Creek Ranch, not far from Hedley, he said, “many years ago I started dating a young woman. Her parents told her to stay away from me. He’s got Indian blood in him they said, and he won’t amount to anything.” This turned out to be fortuitous. In time he met and married Margaret, who became his lifelong partner in many adventures.

“I was born in St. Boniface, Manitoba,” Gerry began. “My parents were renting a small cabin. The night they brought me home it was snowing and windy. The next morning my blanket was covered with snow. We were poor.”

He developed a way of looking at his circumstances that could be a beneficial template for youths today. “I got a lot of encouragement and help from the people in my life,” he said with evident conviction. “My mom and dad, my grandparents, and the whole family were my mentors, my support system. I learned to accept their counsel and to change.”

He also gives credit to the Grey Nuns and the Jesuits who educated him. “In one test,” he recalled, “the passing mark was 50 per cent. I got 65. They wouldn’t let me go home because I had not tried hard. I realized they were right. They were the best teachers.”

Gerry began setting goals early. “I knew I wanted to be a pilot, I knew I wanted to be a policeman. I also wanted to own a cattle ranch one day.”

At age 17 he enlisted in the Canadian Air Force. Not knowing he was being timed, he failed a written test. Even so, he told the officer he wanted to be an air controller. “No,” the officer said. “You will be washing trucks.” When he wrote the test again later, he achieved a high mark and went on to be a jet pilot. “It’s the best life,” he said. “I learned leadership skills that I wish we could impart to kids today.”

He still felt the call to law enforcement and in time joined the Vancouver police force. “I was an undercover cop assigned to the 100 block East Hastings beat. I learned to be tough. That’s what the people there respect.”

In the 1970’s, as real estate developers, he and his partner pre-sold several lots with a handshake for $40,000 each. When the prospectus came out, they were valued at $80,000. “We could have backed out, but I insisted we honour the deal. Word got around and it gave me a lot of credibility.”

His impressive success in business attracted attention and in 1983 he was urged to seek the Progressive Conservative nomination for the Mission-Port Moody riding, an NDP stronghold. At a large political gathering, wearing his signature stetson and not dressed in an expensive business suit like many of those present, he told people he intended to put his name forward and win in the coming by-election. Bob Ransford, later his trusted assistant and lifelong friend, initially dismissed him as a country bumpkin. He drew aside a cabinet minister and asked, “Who is this cowboy and who does he think he is? He doesn’t have a chance of winning.”

Gerry did win and in Ottawa became a friend of Brian Mulroney. The PM liked his fluency in English and French. He was appointed Caucus Chair and became known for his ability to fix sticky situations.

Later in his political career, he was named to the Senate and it was here he became active on behalf of Indigenous people. A Metis himself, he used the prestige of his position and his personal credibility to help bands develop alliances to negotiate more successfully with large corporations.

Now retired from politics, he is active part-time on the ranch and energetically supports Indigenous causes.

Gerry turned 80 last week. Looking back he told us, “It really isn’t about me. Margaret played an integral part in my achievements. People loved her. People took time to help me. Also, I have 3 heroes who inspire me to live with integrity and hope. They are Jesus Christ, Mother Teresa, and Terry Fox.” For more about his numerous contributions to Indigenous people and all Canadians, I suggest reading his excellent biography, I Am A Metis.

Hedley Times

Hedley Remembrance Day 2017

November 12, 2017 Art Martens 1 Comment

Bill Day delivering a Remembrance Day talk.

Bill Day and partner Lynn Wells returned recently from a tour of WWI battlefields. On Remembrance Day Bill delivered a talk, giving details about the places they saw, especially Passchendaele and Ypres. The notes below formed the basis of his talk.

Remembrance Day Speech Notes

What carried millions of young men and women to France and Belgium? Lure of excitement, praise, adulation, change, for young people who felt trapped or embedded in dull, boring activities in their place of birth. Told they’d be “Home for Christmas”.

Superiority of defensive technology – the machine gun, artillery, pill boxes, barbed wire. Poison gas of little significance overall. Aircraft of increasing significance.

Our journey included Normandy [Juno Beach], Caen, bridges, and then a chain of battlefields from the Great War stretching across the lowlands of North-West France and Belgium.

During the Great War Belgium was a focal point – the “weak point” in the defensive chain in France. Stopped at Ypres “Wipers” by British Expeditionary Force in 1914 – small but superbly trained riflemen.

Beaumont-Hamel July 1, 1916 Royal Newfoundland Regiment

Hedley to Bromley Rock = distance between Ypres and Passchendaele.

Penticton similar in size to Ypres

Over four years, about 1,000,000 killed and wounded in the Ypres “salient”.

Ypres was a medieval city with a huge earth and stone wall. Completely destroyed in 1915-1918. Completely rebuilt in 1920’s and /30’s by British and Belgian governments. All of the “medieval” and “old” buildings are modern.

German artillery in 1915 blew a huge gap in the eastern wall – now the size of the Menin gate and the base of the road to the East that the British hoped would lead to the penetration of the German lines and seizure of the Channel ports occupied by the Germans.

15,654 Canadian fallen at Passchendaele.

The British Imperial forces lost an estimated 275,000 casualties in the Passchendaele area to the German’s 220,000, making it one of the war’s most costly battles of attrition.

Passchendaele graveyards include Tyne Cot cemetery, 12,000 crosses and 35,000 missing.

Hedley Boys letters in this context are marvels of love and courtesy. The life at and near the “Front” was sheer hell and left no one untouched for the rest of their lives – short or long.

Verdun Somme Passchendaele

Jennifer Douglass, a local historian, read the names on the cenotaph,
and gave a little information for each one.

A young boy carefully places his poppy on the cenotaph.

Politics

BC Liberals Leadership Race 2017-2018

November 5, 2017 Art Martens 1 Comment

Candidates in the BC Liberals leadership race.
(Vancouver Sun photo)

When the BC Liberals anoint a new leader in February 2018, will it be the beginning of an exciting new era or just more of the same tainted politics? The answer to this question will likely depend on who is trusted with the reins of party power. Will it be one of the old guard, Mike de Jong, Todd Stone or Alexander Wilkinson, who all served in the cabinet of Christy Clark? Will it be a back bench MLA, like former lawyer Michael Lee, or past Vancouver mayor Sam Sullivan? Or will they possibly choose to go with the one outsider, popular former mayor of Surrey, Dianne Watts?

It’s generally accepted that we become like the people we associate with. Parents discourage friendships with rebellious kids who get in trouble in school or are known to the authorities. This thinking applies in government as well. At the provincial level, ultimate power is lodged in the Premier’s office. In time this power tends to have a corrosive impact on earlier, more pristine intentions and values of those at the top.

While I do not consider myself competent to accuse the Liberals of corruption, I do believe there was a measure of hubris and arrogance in the Clark government. Some observers of B.C. politics have said there was more than just a whiff of erosion of values and principles. Reasons for believing this are numerous,

Possibly the most glaring one came when Christy Clark, and maybe high ranking members of her cabinet, threw the political dice one more time at the very end of their tenure. After telling voters repeatedly during the election campaign the province would be bankrupted by NDP promises, the sputtering Liberal government shamelessly concocted a budget including those same “too expensive” promises.

Another indication of corrosion was the high priced dinners. These gave business moguls and other influential personalities access to the Premier and cabinet. When I, along with possibly thousands, received an invitation to sit at her table at a cost of $5,000, I responded with a note explaining this was considerably beyond my means. I invited her for a home cooked lunch with Linda and me, at no cost to her or to taxpayers. I felt it was important to remind the Premier many of us are not affluent High Rollers, but would still appreciate an opportunity to express our views to her. This was in the midst of the election campaign and and it’s understandable she was too busy to reply.

In my view the most damning example of Liberal arrogance (and also neglect) was the refusal to allow an independent review of Site C by the BC Utilities Commission. The BCUC was set up to examine in detail such major projects before taxpayer dollars are invested. Because this project comes with an extraordinarily high price tag and is currently in the news, I feel it requires our attention.

In an October 17, 2017 submission to the BCUC, former Hydro CEO Marc Eliesen wrote, “Site C has been dogged by mismanagement, politically motivated decision-making and lack of transparency.” He also wrote, “Site C must be canceled to ensure BC ratepayers are not left with unconscionable electricity rate increases.” Eliesen is a heavy weight in the industry, having also served as CEO of Ontario Hydro and Manitoba Hydro.

In its final November 1st report, the BCUC does not take a position for or against Site C. It cautions, however, that Site C completion costs may be in excess of $10 billion, well over its proposed budget of $8.33 billion. It also notes the energy glut in North American markets could make it increasingly difficult to sell a Site C energy surplus. The panel suggests, “Increasingly viable alternative energy sources such as wind, geothermal, and industrial curtailment could provide similar benefits as the Site C project, with an equal or lower Unit Energy Cost.”

Like many British Columbians, I experienced an increasing sense of disillusionment with Liberal leadership prior to the election that dispatched them to political purgatory. Even so, I feel no desire to consign them to the ash heap of politics. Our province will be in a stronger position when both parties have competent, principled leaders. For this reason, I hope BC Liberals will make decisions that enable citizens to again trust and respect them. I hope they will select a wise leader who commits to serving the people and the province.

Inspiration

Undaunted In Life’s Last Chapter

October 28, 2017 Art Martens 1 Comment

Anna’s life changed when she fell out of a cherry tree.
(photo from Mercer Orchards)

During the 6 years my Dad was in a longterm care facility, I observed that the dynamics here were similar to what I had seen in prisons. Some residents lost all hope and just sat inertly in their wheel chairs, unwilling to participate in group activities. A handful of undaunted residents demonstrated surprisingly purposeful responses to this final, difficult stage in life.

After Dad fell and broke his hip, he never walked again. The facility in which he was placed had about 200 residents, all in wheel chairs. The perimeter doors were securely locked and the long hallways were impersonal and uninspiring.

A lifelong fascination with music helped Dad become one of those who decided to employ the time profitably. He played the cello and on every visit I carried the instrument to the piano in the dining room and we made music. It was the beginning of a drama that pulled together some of those who refused to give up. Because I arrived on almost a daily basis, I had considerable opportunity to observe the interactions and in some cases to be drawn in.

I occasionally chatted with Edna, a petite, fragile appearing woman with long white hair. In her late seventies, her alert mind still craved stimulation. Wanting freedom, she had seven times cut the belt staff affixed around her to ensure she would not fall from her wheelchair.

One day during the music time she parked her chair immediately behind the piano bench on which I was sitting. When we finished playing, I stood up and turned toward her, quite unaware of her devious intent. Grasping my wrist firmly, she fixed her mischievous blue eyes on me and said, “kiss me.” Dumbfounded, my mind scrambled, searching for a way to extricate myself from this awkward situation. I said, “what did you say?” “Kiss me,” she repeated, but with greater urgency. I didn’t want to embarrass her with an outright refusal. Studying her face, which still retained vestiges of earlier beauty, an idea came. Leaning over, I pecked her lightly on the forehead. Apparently satisfied, she smiled impishly.

Elsie, an independent minded resident, had earned a reputation with staff as a troublesome agitator. Over the years MS had trapped her questioning spirit in a body that no longer responded to commands. She guided her electric wheelchair by manipulating a steering device with her chin. Each morning she adeptly maneuvered the chair into Dad’s room and said “good morning Jacob, how are you?” After a brief chat, she backed out and roamed the hallways and dining room, searching for issues to take up with staff. Sometimes she literally cornered me and talked about the latest injustice she had uncovered. The Head Nurse became wary and uneasy when she saw Elsie trundling down a corridor on a sleuthing expedition. She attempted to discourage Elsie’s ceaseless roaming, but Elsie could not be stopped. She saw and heard things the Head Nurse didn’t want exposed. Elsie was delighted at each opportunity to tell institutional secrets.

As a teen, Anna had fled with her parents from a Mennonite village in Russia to escape Stalin’s purges. Now 83, she had been confined to a wheelchair for several years after climbing a tree to pick cherries. When a branch broke, her aged body had not been able to withstand the hard landing.

Day after day she sat in her wheelchair in the dining room, observing, meditating, often smiling. A woman of deep faith in God, serene and wise. One day as I was about to leave after a brief visit, she placed her hand gently on mine. In her native Low German, she prayed a blessing on me. As I walked away, I wondered if Anna had a premonition that we would not speak again. Several days later she wasn’t in her usual place. I went to her room where she quietly lay, very near to drawing her final breath.

Now, some years later, I still think often of these stalwart individuals. They had been stripped of health, material possessions, the freedom to go where they pleased, in some cases even of family and friends. Still, though the flesh was weak, the spirit was willing, and they were undaunted in this last difficult chapter of their lives. To this time I continue to feel privileged to have been in their company and to have learned from them.

Community, People

The Nelsons of Cawston

October 21, 2017 Art Martens 1 Comment

Sitting at a table among fruit laden trees in the midst of Fred and Phyllis Nelson’s Cawston orchard late this past summer, Linda and I felt embraced by their large family of neighbours and friends. The surrounding mountains outlined crisply against a pristine blue sky lent an aura of grandeur to the occasion. Scattered among the trees were about 200 people, all at tables, enjoying a delicious potluck meal. At the end of a protracted, dry summer, this was a welcome break in the routine of hard work. In the growing dusk, with talented musicians performing on stage, there seemed a pervasive sense of goodwill in the atmosphere.

Several very young boys with plastic shovels were digging vigorously in Fred’s potato patch. The expert manner in which they used their small shovels suggested they were offspring of local farmers.

Linda and I were intrigued by the Nelsons’ vision for this remarkable event. Wanting to know more, we returned to the orchard last week for a 2 hour conversation. “We’ve done this potluck annually for about 10 years,” Phyllis told us in reply to my question. “It’s a celebration of the harvest. We also celebrate music, and the fact we’ve been here another year. I get on the phone and invite our neighbours and friends. It’s strictly by invitation. There would be too many people if we opened it up.” We quickly grasped that she is a capable, proactive event planner.

I reminded Fred of seeing him shoo the youngsters out of his potato patch and asked if there are problems associated with the evening. “Digging up potatoes is not a permitted activity,” he said good-humouredly. “We spend a day preparing and another day cleaning up.”

Fred and Phyllis both grew up in Nelson, B.C., are only a few months apart in age and attended the same elementary school. “I became interested in Fred at age 8,” she said. “He wasn’t aware of me yet, but by age 13 we were dating.” Clearly Phyllis understood early how to make things fall into place.

After graduating in 1966, Fred trained in forestry at BCIT and Phyllis graduated from UVic with a degree in education. They were married at age 21. When their careers proved unfulfilling, they bought a VW bus and travelled for 26 months in Canada, the US and Mexico. Subsequently they fell in love with Cawston and rented the house in which they now live.

In time they were able to buy the house and a 10 acre portion of the orchard on which it is situated. The orchard was old and not producing an income. It would demand all the qualities normally required for success in any difficult endeavour. Their patience, perseverance and belief would be tested repeatedly. Fortunately Brian Mennell, a neighbour across the street, offered Fred employment and instruction in orcharding.

By this time they had 2 sons, Forrest and Pharron. Life became a financial scramble. Phyllis taught school and gave private piano lessons. Fred for some years was the water bailiff for the Fairview Irrigation District. He also did carpentry.

In 1996 they took what must have seemed a hazardous plunge into the unknown. Fred went into orcharding full-time. In the coming years they would encounter late frosts that destroyed blossoms, cold weather, crop destroying hail and much more. Lately, due to global warming there are new pests that destroy fruit and trees. All problems familiar to farmers. Their decision would require them to become a team forged together by love, trust, commitment and strength of character. They could not falter when disaster threatened.

“I began a l0 year orchard development program,” Fred said. “Each year I took out one acre of trees and replanted with a variety of fruits, especially apples. I also switched to organic growing. For this I needed specialized equipment and materials. We are the only ones in the valley growing organic Aurora apples. They are particularly sweet, but delicate and require great care.”

Pherron Nelson (centre) & helpers packing organic aurora apples.

Now close to retirement, they will soon sell the orchard to Pharron and his wife, who already live and work on the property. Their other son, Forrest and his partner, also live in the Cawston area, and grow organic vegetables. Fred and Phyllis look forward to a slower pace and spending more time with their grandchildren. “I’m amazed at how quickly the years have flown by,” Phyllis said. Fred nodded agreement.

Living Significantly