Finishing Strong

November 15, 2022 Art Martens 5 Comments

We will encounter curves, pitfalls, unknowns and rewards. It’s always too soon to give up.

When we celebrated my 80th birthday on March 14 of this year, I felt I had attained a significant life milestone. Like many who survive to this elevated age, I had not expected to come this far along the path of life. Living to what is sometimes referred to as a “ripe old age,” was never on my bucket list.

The question that looked me squarely in the face at this juncture was one I had not anticipated. I began asking myself, “what lies ahead? Will I live out my remaining days contending with aches and pains and boredom, or is there more?” Dozing in an easy chair in front of a tv offered no appeal.

Looking back over my shoulder at the path Linda and I have travelled to this time, I realize that from the beginning, we were restless. At times we strayed somewhat inadvertently from a pretty safe path into challenging circumstances we really weren’t prepared for.

I’m certain we disappointed our parents when after about two years of marriage I left my job as a heavy equipment operator and Linda resigned from her position at the Royal Bank. We loaded our van with essentials, including camping equipment, and set off along the Trans Canada highway, without a destination or plan in mind. For almost three months we lived in a tent on the shore of Sheridan Lake, among mosquitoes, open range cattle and black bears.

Thinking about that decision now, I realize that this seemingly foolish move set the compass of our lives to this day. Sitting around our campfire one evening I said, “I’ve been thinking about our future. I’d like to go to university, but I know we don’t have the means.” Without hesitating Linda said, “I could get a job.” Shortly afterward, we took down our camp and returned to civilization.

After four years focusing on sociology and political science at SFU, I worked initially for Community Services in Abbotsford. Then, as a program coordinator with M/2W/2, I regularly interacted with inmates and staff at Oakalla, the BC Penitentiary, Matsqui Institution and other prisons. I finished my working career at the One Way Adventure Foundation, running work and recreational programs for young offenders.

In retirement Linda and I have devoted countless hours to community causes. We worked with the Lamont family to secure the release of their daughter Christine and her fiancee David Spencer from lengthy sentences in a Sao Paulo maximum security penitentiary. We also gave many hours to thwart a U.S. corporation’s plan to build a power plant that would have sent its pollution across the border to the Fraser Valley.

For eight years our adventures and challenges were featured in a weekly column I wrote for Black Press and for this blogsite. I also wrote about the people, events and history of the Similkameen Valley. Linda and I interviewed a number of individuals, including John Horgan, Princeton mayor Spencer Coyne, and John Terbasket, a highly respected elder in the Lower Similkameen Indian Band. This was an exciting, challenging time and I felt privileged to have an audience.

At the beginning of this year, after eight years of writing for Black Press, I realized I no longer wanted the pressure of producing a column each week. I decided to move on and focus on writing for the blogsite.

Although I’m tempted at times, I’m still not ready for the easy chair. Having visited my father almost daily when he was in a longterm care facility, I’m very aware of the emotional, mental and physical withering that inevitably comes with old age. I saw white haired men and women sitting quietly in their wheelchairs all day, lonely and bereft of meaning and joy. Some lived with pain.

A minority refused to bow before the onslaught of the years and compromised health. These courageous, indomitable souls won my great admiration and respect. For me they have become role models.

Now, having walked along the at times uncertain path of life so far, I consider myself blessed to still be able to walk, talk, write and more. The challenge that lies ahead is to stay as healthy as possible. Also to develop the will and courage to finish strong.

Inspiration

It’s Time To Think For A Change

November 2, 2022 Art Martens 1 Comment

Discerning observers of the ongoing turbulence around the globe are expressing increasing unease as they attempt to understand what is coming. My friend Aaron is one of those convinced the future is murky, dark, and dangerous. Certainly the covid scare and predictions there is more to come is reason to feel jittery. Putin’s war in Ukraine is another of the myriad issues sending tremors to all corners of the globe. Add to these floods and droughts, and it’s not surprising that there is a growing sense we are being held hostage by environmental disasters, health issues, faltering economies, a grasping for power and wealth by politicians, and more.

Because Canada has enjoyed such a largely uninterrupted run of peace and prosperity, many of us are inclined to shrug off warnings of impending disaster. We hope the harbingers of doom are mere conspiracy theories, disinformation, or the concoctions of foolish minds.

But Aaron and and others with similar views and concerns insist a deluge of fateful events is about to overtake us. “When people are overly focused on their personal issues,” Aaron said, “they aren’t aware of storm clouds hovering just over the horizon. They may be acutely aware that the cost of their mortgage is spiralling upward and petrol, groceries and heating fuel prices are squeezing us more and more. Maybe they hope that by ignoring the increasingly ominous signs, they will escape the negative impact of what is coming.”

The Biblical account of Noah predicting a world flood is an early example of complacency. People indolently watched Noah building his famous ark day after day, not realizing they would one day bitterly regret their apathy and ridicule of Noah. Even if this account seems a stretch to some, we can learn from it.

According to Jared Diamond in “Collapse”, disaster may advance upon a society surreptitiously and unobserved. He suggests the people of Easter Island didn’t understand the disastrous ramifications that would flow from their denuding the island of trees.

Unless we experience a calamitous event personally, we tend to carry on as usual. I wonder if we have become so comfortable with our cozy existence, so complacent, we are unable to understand that we are beset by danger. And we may not know how to respond wisely when calamity overtakes us.

For at least the past year some alternative media have sounded the alarm about a looming global economic, environmental and political crises. Recently an American financial expert wrote an article entitled, “Should you Move your Money by September 21?” He suggested the U.S. government is preparing legislation that will enable it to seize the savings of many Americans. He reminded readers that in 2013 the government of Cyprus skimmed funds from the savings accounts of its people. To this time not all the gloomy predictions have come to pass, but significant upheavals in various places suggest all is not well and we need to prepare as best we can for an uncertain future.

Unlike Noah, I don’t know precisely what is coming, and like our politicians, I cannot offer an all-encompassing response. I do believe though that at the personal and neighborhood level, we need to think seriously about how we can undergird each other in scarce times. With grocery prices already making some foods out of reach for people with meagre incomes, the time has come when talk and good intentions are not adequate.

My friend David has impacted my thinking in this regard. He lives on a couple of acres on Old Hedley Road and each spring he plants an enormous garden. On Sunday mornings he brings vegetables and baking to the little church in Hedley. At times others follow his example, bringing fruit, vegetables and baking. Much of this food is consumed during the fellowship time after the service. Everything left over is given to anyone who wants it. We leave feeling we are part of a family that, when adversity strikes, will pull together and gladly share resources. The time may be coming when more of us need to follow David’s example of giving to our neighbors.

Hedley Times

Bears Have Arrived In Hedley

October 13, 2022 Art Martens 1 Comment

Cinnamon Bear in Manning Park (courtesy of Jess Findlay, Pinterest)

It’s definitely bear sighting season in Hedley and virtually every old-timer in town has a favorite bear story. One account that captured my attention some years ago came from Sylvia. Already elderly at the time, she and her husband Harry had lived most of their lives here. “I had just turned the calendar page to October,” she said. “I was standing at the kitchen sink, about to wash the supper dishes. Dusk was setting in and Harry, as usual, had settled into his easy chair in the living room, pipe in hand. I had lit a fire in the woodstove to take the chill off.”

“This evening I was thinking about tasks that needed doing before bedtime. I wasn’t giving attention to happenings outside my home. This changed when I glanced out the kitchen window. A large black bear was standing upright on it’s hindquarters, observing me with keen interest. It was no more than five feet from the house. Being watched at such close quarters made me jittery. I backed away but the curious bear moved it’s great body closer for a better view. I’d heard that bears don’t have good vision so I turned off the kitchen light. Pretty soon it lost interest and ambled off to find other entertainment.”

Sylvia’s bear adventure happened almost 40 years ago. Apparently bears haven’t made significant changes to their strategies for acquiring a layer of fat before their extended winter sleep.

Agnes, an elderly widow, lives alone. “This year I picked my apples early so they wouldn’t be poached by bears,” she said. “This happened the previous year and I didn’t intend to share my fruit again. I stored the apples in my basement but got distracted by the cat and didn’t close the door.”

Late that evening rustling sounds from downstairs made her anxious. If there was an intruder, she’d have to deal with the situation herself. Turning on the basement lights, she eased quietly down the stairs. In the corner where she had stored the apples, a black bear was sitting on its haunches, contentedly enjoying her freshly picked fruit. Agnes is an independent minded gal, but this was a bit much. Terrorized, she shrieked so loud the bear scrambled to its feet and bolted out the door.

At this time of year, we expect to see bears wandering about in town, searching for nourishment. A couple of days ago Tap, our next door neighbor came upon a black bear destroying the grapevine in their back yard. He yelled at the animal, but it proved unwilling to abandon this feast. It growled, ignored Tap and brazenly continued tearing apart the prized vine. Tap isn’t a man to be trifled with. He resolutely grabbed a metal rake and smacked the bear on the head with all the force he possessed. The big animal turned and glared at him, then leaped over the rear gate. Tap hasn’t seen it again. Maybe the bear is nursing a headache.

Ross, a cross town neighbor didn’t fare quite as well. When he went out in the morning several days ago he discovered a flat tire on his van. Examining the wheel more closely, he realized a bear had taken a couple of bites out of a nearly new tire. Only a ravenous bear would do that.

A serious lack of precipitation is once again shrinking the food supply for all animals and they are coming down the local mountains in search of sustenance. My friend Larry told me he’d chased a bear out of his garage. “It was skinny” he said. “Didn’t look at all like it is ready for winter.” Larry’s bear won’t need to be concerned about fattening up for the coming winter. Someone in town apparently felt compassion for the animal, believing it was too diseased and skinny to survive. Yesterday a Conservation Officer came to town and shot the bear.

Most black bears can be chased away, but it’s unwise to become complacent. A number of years ago my friend Al dozed off while sitting alone by his campfire, deep in the wilderness, late at night. “A bear entered my camp and I must have stirred and surprised it,” he said later. “It ripped off part of my scalp with its claws. I consider myself lucky to be alive. Now when there are bears nearby, I take nothing for granted.” In Hedley we need to consider his advice.

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Note: Black Bear is a species, not a color. Black bears come in more colors than any other North American mammal. (courtesy of BearWise.org). However, the bears sighted in Hedley this year were black.

My Story, People

My MEI Class Reunion

September 6, 2022 Art Martens Leave a comment

This is the early MEI, which was located at the corner of Clearbrook & Peardonville Roads.

I came away from my high school class reunion in August with a profound sense of respect for my former classmates. The respect is for what they have accomplished, what they endured, and who they have become.

It’s been 62 years since we walked across the stage at the Mennonite Educational Institute in Abbotsford to receive our diploma from the principal, Mr. Bill Wiebe. We were young, frisky and idealistic then. Over the intervening years the world has undergone radical change, and so have we. Now our hair is white or grey. In some cases there isn’t a lot of hair remaining. Several individuals walked with a cane or walker. Nineteen former classmates have already made the transition to what is often referred to as “a better place.”

Many of us have some common threads in our history. In most cases our ancestors fled from Ukraine. My early family, and also Linda’s, came to Canada in about 1874. There was a further substantial migration in the 1920’s. Then, when the German Wehrmacht was driven out by the Red Army in World War II, many Mennonites followed the retreating army to Germany. They feared the Bolsheviks even more than the Nazis. From Germany many emigrated to Canada or elsewhere. They spoke mostly German in their homes and churches, in some homes Low German was common. Inspite of this, they didn’t consider themselves German, but rather as Mennonites. Some of us, myself included, didn’t learn English until grade 1. For at least 30 years Linda and I have attended these gatherings every 5 years, although Covid delayed this one.

When we walked into the Azalea room at the Garden Park Tower in Abbotsford, I recognized virtually no one. As we passed a woman sitting alone at a table I stopped to introduce Linda and myself. She said, “I’m Anna.” She had been the class valedictorian. In 62 years I had not seen her at any of the previous reunions. Surprised I said, “Anna! I remember thinking you were one of the prettiest girls in our class.”

I looked around the crowded room, very aware of the excited buzz of conversation as former classmates became joyfully reacquainted. One of the individuals I especially wanted to see was Abe, a friend who had not attended MEI but had married Ann, a girl from our grade. I asked one of the organizers if Abe was there and she said he wouldn’t be coming. I felt devastated when she added, “he has Parkinsons.”

Many years ago Abe, then well placed in the Provincial Probation Service, had recommended me for a position with the One Way Adventure Foundation, an organization working with young offenders in Surrey and Hedley. Except for his phone call asking me to apply, Linda and I likely would not be living in Hedley now. Fortunately Abe and Ann did show up briefly and I was able to have a short visit with them.

In snatches of conversation with these former classmates I learned that over the years many have experienced significant victories and also disheartening setbacks. My friend Alvin had lost his wife to illness. He has since married Flo. After a few minutes with them I turned to Alvin and said, “you found a good one.”

I was delighted to see Art, a valued friend in the upper grades. He and his wife Marlyce had both trained to become cardiologists and had made numerous trips to impoverished countries like the DCR, Tunisia, Romania, and Serbia. They lectured, consulted, and at times assisted with medical procedures. For about 20 years they have been deeply involved with the Mennonite Centre in Ukraine. In the present conflict the Centre is providing meals, refuge, transportation, hope and other needs.

MEI Grads of 1960
photo by permission of Paul Funk

Many of the classmates have volunteered in various places around the globe, usually in communities where food, clean water, and employment opportunities were scarce. A number served under the auspices of the Mennonite Central Committee (MCC) in Canada and abroad. During their working years some served in their church. In retirement they spread their wings, often to serve where it was uncomfortable and at times hazardous. I gathered from the joy in their voices that serving others has given them a great surge of satisfaction and fulfillment. Linda and I consider ourselves blessed to be part of this group of very special people.

Community, Hedley Times

Marvin’s 90th Birthday Party

September 1, 2022 Art Martens 1 Comment

Marvin knew there was to be a celebration of his 90^th birthday at the Hedley Hall. He dressed for the occasion and his appearance was pretty spiffy. Even though he had been told this little party was for him, when he entered the hall his face and physical demeanor registered astonishment.

Maybe he had expected only a handful of his neighbours to come, not the approximately 30 smiling guests shouting “Happy Birthday Marvin!” Also, he likely had not expected elaborate decorations including a large banner wishing him a Happy 90^th birthday. For a moment he stood transfixed.

Marvin lives alone on the far side of the community, alongside 20 Mile Creek. I stop and chat with him when I meet him on the street, but I don’t know his full name. It’s quite possible no one in town knows his last name.

We enjoyed a delicious lunch served by the Hedley Hall ladies. Some of us were still eating when there was a loud knock on the exterior door.

Marvin was still eating his cake when there was a loud knock on the door.

An elderly woman entered, wearing a long dress with a shawl around her shoulders, a kerchief tied over her grey hair, and walking with a cane. By her accent we understood she and Marvin have a common Ukrainian heritage.“My name is Baba,” she announced. “The farmers from back home on the Saskatchewan prairies sent me to share best wishes and words of wisdom.”

Marvin broke in and said, “I’m almost afraid to hear their message.”

“Be mindful of corona virus,” Baba advised. “Don’t drink that beer in the sun. That’s the truth of where corona virus comes from. Also, don’t fall for any of those crazy health food fads. At our age, we need all the preservatives we can get!”

After dispensing more sage advice, Baba said, “your friends sent me to dance for you. I’ve been taking lessons but I warn you, I’m just a beginner. I’m going to do a pole dance!” and she held up 2 canes. Then without moving her feet, she vigorously moved her hips from side to side.

Baba paused, glanced at her audience and winked at us. She ended her speech with, “Marvin was a good dancer. He sure knew how to shake, rattle and roll! He still does … every morning when he gets out of bed.”

Marvin smiled many times during Baba’s humorous presentation, then got up and did a mini jig on the spot. “This is the best town I’ve ever lived in,” he said. He was given a number of gifts, including a gift card to use at the Hedley Country Market. There was also a walking stick with his name carved on it.

The members of the Hedley Hall gave Marvin a party he may never forget. And they gave us all an opportunity to get to know him better and have some great fun.

Community, Indigenous People of Similkameen Valley

The Wake For Mary Allison

August 26, 2022 Art Martens Leave a comment

The accident occurred near Bromley rock, in the early hours of August 5, 2022.
(Wikipedia Photo)

The name Mary Allison is well known in our community. She was a descendant of John Faul Allison and his indigenous wife, Nora. John Faul was the first white settler in this valley. Nora ran a pack train carrying groceries and other supplies from Hope through inhospitable mountainous terrain to Princeton and beyond. To this day she is revered for her courage and independent spirit. John Faul subsequently married a Caucasian woman, but it is Nora’s offspring who make up much of the Allison clan.

A few weeks ago Mary’s life was snuffed out when the pickup truck in which she was a passenger careened off Highway #3 near Bromley Rock. The vehicle plunged into the Similkameen River and she was unable to extricate herself.

Linda and I have had only limited contact with the Allison family. When Mary’s mother, Christine Allison announced there would be a wake in her home, we felt an urging to attend, but wondered if this would be appropriate. Would the people view us as curious outsiders intruding on a sacred gathering of their people? Linda said she felt somewhat uneasy about going, and I had similar thoughts. We did feel, however, it was important for the Hedley community to show support and compassion, so in spite of misgivings, we decided to go.

Christine and her husband Rick Holmes live on the local reserve. We found their home at the end of a long driveway running parallel to the Similkameen River. It’s an idyllic setting with a splendid view of the valley and mountains.

When we arrived we saw men sitting or standing around a fire. Some Indigenous communities light a fire to honour the individual who has passed from this world. A handful of people near the house greeted us and we asked if we could participate in the wake. They assured us we were welcome and one of the young women led us into the home. Arriving at the top of a short flight of stairs, we saw that the living room, dining room and kitchen were fully occupied. Upon seeing us, there was an immediate stirring. A couple of chairs became vacant and we were invited to sit down. Several individuals greeted us warmly and we quickly felt at ease and welcome.

They were just completing prayers for Mary. Ramona, who has a strong pleasant voice, then led the group in singing several hymns. We sensed that people wanted to support and bless the grieving family.

After the singing it was announced that there was plenty of food and we were urged to fill our plates. “We just finished supper,” Linda said. “We don’t have room to eat now.” Carrie Allison, a respected and much loved Elder said, “Go ahead and fill your plates. You can take them home and eat later.” We followed her suggestion and one of the ladies took the plates and carried them to our car.

Christine had stepped outside and we met her there. She told us that a few days before the accident Mary had said she was wondering about what career would be suitable for her. Her journey through the teenage years had been fraught with difficulties. Now, at age 19 she was beginning to think positively about her future.

As we negotiated the long dirt driveway back to the highway, we realized we had benefited greatly from the warmth and congeniality we had experienced. We had hoped to bless, and had been blessed ourselves.

My Story, People

Aunt Nettie’s Watermelon Event 2022

August 23, 2022 Art Martens Leave a comment

Aunt Nettie, Uncle Abe, Aunt Ann, August 2019

After some two years of covid induced societal panic and restraint, earlier this month my 91 year old Aunt Nettie again summoned her flock to a watermelon and roll kuchen gathering at her home in Kelowna. She’s been doing this each summer for at least a dozen years. I sense in her an understanding that family connections are vital to our well being and if no one makes the effort, this large family will fracture. Then we’ll all spin off in different directions. In each case, our parents are gone and we can no longer look to them to hold the family together. Aunt Nettie seems to grasp intuitively that there is a void and someone needs to lead the way. Like a mother hen calling her chicks to safety under her wings, once a year she stretches out her arms and beckons us to come home.

This is primarily a cousins event. She does another for her children and legions of grandchildren and great grandchildren. Because of the popularity of the gathering, we sit on lawn chairs in her spacious carport.

Some years ago at such an event I became conscious of the distinctive rumbling of an approaching Harley Davidson. I was surprised when the impressive machine turned into Aunt Nettie’s driveway and a young indigenous woman disembarked. She removed her helmet and we realized it was Andrea, one of Aunt Nettie’s foster daughters. She had come from Clearwater. Most of us had not seen her since she was a child. Then her sister Jean and her children also arrived. Being re-acquainted with them was a highlight. Linda and I arranged a further visit with Andrea at our home, which was in Abbotsford at that time.

When my sisters and I were young, special occasions like Christmas and Easter were celebrated in the home of our grandparents. After they passed on, we had smaller gatherings in the home of our parents. These times strengthened family relationships and enabled our children to understand they were part of a larger family.

Now our extended family is scattered across Canada and the U.S. Aunt Netties’s cousins gathering holds some of us together. In spite of her advanced age, many of us see her as the centre. Her hands no longer have the strength to roll out the dough for the roll kuchen (similar to dough boys), so several of the cousins come early to help.

Over the years we’ve been reminded that these gatherings are not to be taken for granted. We’ve already lost Aunt Mary, who used to arrive from Steinbach with a happy smile and sense of humour. To her this family was precious and important. We lost her a few years ago. Uncle Abe, whose voice and mobility had been taken by a stroke, passed on about two years ago. His warm handshake always conveyed his love for the family. Aunt Ann, who will turn 98 next month, used to come but now no longer ventures far from her home in Smithers. We miss her carefree laughter.

We sometimes wonder what will happen when our plucky, visionary aunt is no longer able to muster the will and stamina to hold this family together. One of us will need to call up the resolve to accept the torch she has carried for many years.

Community, Hedley Times

Hedley Street Dance July 30, 2022

August 5, 2022 Art Martens Leave a comment

Big Buck Band (photo from their fb site)

In spite of the Heat Dome firmly entrenched over the Similkameen Valley last weekend, people began arriving in our quaint former gold mining community early Saturday afternoon, ready to party. Due to the covid pandemic, the highly popular annual Hedley Street Dance had been cancelled the past two years. Now the festive atmosphere suggested a pent up desire to make up for lost time.

Cars, pickups, motorhomes and motorcycles lined virtually every street. Scott Avenue, our main street buzzed with the excited chatter of people renewing acquaintances and making new friends. According to Mike, co-owner of the Country Market, 160 meal tickets had quickly been snapped up, many by outsiders. Those who were unable to buy tickets could console themselves with the knowledge they would still be able to dance. Two blocks of Scott Avenue had been cordoned off, and as in the past, the bandstand was placed near the Hedley Country Market.

I had been in the store earlier in the afternoon when there was a sense of controlled pandemonium, although not panic. Store owners Mike and Viktoria were rushing about, ensuring nothing was overlooked. I saw Sara, a cashier run out to attend to something, then hurry to her post at the till. Although the dance was organized by the Hedley Community Club, last minute decisions and actions were emanating from the store. It reminded me of a bee hive ready to swarm.

I saw that several tents had been erected in Woodlie Park in the heart of our community. They were needed to protect servers and food from the heat of the Hedley sun. In the late afternoon volunteers began bringing out bowls of salads and steamed potatoes. Pieces of chicken were ready to be placed on two barbeques.

Tables and chairs had been set up on the street in the shade of Hedley’s two story Post Office building. The places were quickly occupied and it was evident people were anticipating a sumptuous meal. Glancing around, I noticed that all age groups were represented, from the very young to white haired seniors. I recognized a number of Hedley people, but it was evident many attendees had come from other communities. Two couples I spoke with were from Kamloops, others from Princeton and Keremeos and a few from more distant places like Vancouver.

Dusk was already approaching as people finished eating. A hush of anticipation fell on the crowd when “Big Buck, ” a rock and country band, mounted the band stand. Young women, some in colorful summer party dresses, moved eagerly to the centre of the street with their partners.

My attention was drawn to a pretty young girl, about age 4. Wearing a flowing, brightly colored ankle length dress, she quickly became totally immersed in the music. With eyes closed, she was clapping her hands gently and swaying, seemingly in a trance and overtaken by delight.

Leaning against the stone wall at the front of Woodlie Park, I noticed a big man with an impressive black beard that aroused my envy. When the chair beside him was vacated, I sat down and asked his opinion of the music. He very much approved. He told me his home is in Princeton and he drives a logging truck for a local firm. I asked if he knew my friend Jesse, who also drives a logging truck. His face brightened noticeably and he said, “yes, I know him. When you see Jesse, greet him for me and tell him you were talking with James the Bear.” He stroked the luxurious black beard.

A skinny man of about 40 was standing close to me. Wearing no shirt or shoes, he was nervously shifting his feet as though trying to develop the courage to dance. Suddenly his lean body sprang into action and he hopped and skittered along the sidewalk, maneuvering through the throng of revelers. Waving an open can of beer and splashing the contents on a few passersby, he soon lost momentum and stumbled back and forth. People mostly ignored him but when he lost his balance, a pretty blonde woman gently grasped his arm and steadied him. Embarrassed, he mumbled “thanks” and ambled off into the darkness.

Observing the energetic, light footed dancers and the happy onlookers, I realized again that we’re fortunate to have community members willing devote many volunteer hours to breathe life into events like this. They bring us an abundance of joy.

Politics

Ukrainians Remember

July 23, 2022 Art Martens Leave a comment

In a recent email my friend Albert expressed some disquieting thoughts concerning Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. “Vladimir Putin is one of the rare heroes in our world today,” he wrote. In a subsequent message he confidently asserted that “by permitting Russia’s neighbors to join NATO, America pushed Putin into invading Ukraine.” Albert seems quite convinced that this justifies the killing of civilians and the devastation of Ukraine’s infrastructure.

Albert’s words remind me of 83 year old Maria, our neighbor some years ago. When I asked about her flight from Ukraine, she said, “My husband and I and our two young children lived on a Collective Farm in southern Ukraine. One day the Communists came when he was on a grain harvesting crew. They accused him of stealing gas. That made no sense, since we didn’t own a car or machinery. Everything belonged to the farm. The next day they returned and took him away. I heard from other workers he had begged the Communists to let him say goodbye to his family. They refused and I never saw him again.”

“When the German Wehrmacht invaded,” she said, “they protected me against further persecution because I spoke German as well as Russian. They couldn’t hold their position though and when they retreated, they took my children and myself along to Germany. I was certain the Russians would punish me for talking with the enemy so we went willingly. Even today I wonder if my husband is alive.”

Like myself, Mary grew up in the Mennonite culture and faith. Our forebears had been invited by Catherine the Great to settle in Ukraine because they were known to be proficient in agriculture. She promised them freedom to practise their faith, speak German, and the right to not serve in the military. In time these commitments were forgotten or ignored. Being pacifists, my grandparents, and many other Mennonites emigrated to Canada in the 1870’s.

Not all Mennonites were given permission to leave and in time they endured great persecution for their beliefs. This increased when Lenin and Stalin achieved power. Possibly this personal connection raises my anxiety level as I observe Vladimir Putin’s current unprovoked attack and harsh strategies in Ukraine. For me they are eerily reminiscent of the Bolshevik reign of terror which started in Lenin’s time and was accelerated under Stalin.

Stalin wanted Ukraine’s rich grain fields to feed the Red Army. To achieve this he sent crews to the farms with orders to seize any food they could discover. If a peasant possessed a cow, horse or farm implements, these were taken. They also removed anything of value in the homes, even food in pots on the stove, and in some instances, entire meals already on the table.

Peasants were compelled to relinquish their holdings, mostly small, and join collective farms. Many refused, especially the more affluent ones, known as kulaks. Often men were arrested and summarily shot while their families watched. In some instances children were undressed and thrown out into the cold. Children and adults starved. In “Red Famine” historian and journalist Anne Applebaum states, “It was a political famine designed to depopulate Ukraine to make room for Russian settlers.” Stalin denied there was a problem.

Peasants, intellectuals, academics, activists and entire villages were sent to remote inhospitable regions. Thousands were shipped in cattle cars to the Gulag, Russia’s infamous prison system. Here many died in the cold and wretched living conditions. According to Robert Conquest in “The Harvest of Sorrows”, approximately 14.5 million Ukrainians and Russians died during these terrifying years. A lot of Mennonites suffered this fate.

Now Vladimir Putin, like Stalin, seems committed to killing civilians to make space for Russians. Also like Stalin, he claims the goal is to liberate Ukraine from Nazis. At the outset, while massing troops along the border, he said he would not invade. His entire military venture since then has been based on fabrications.

It seems Vladimir Putin is employing strategies based on Stalin’s playbook. His troops are raping, maiming, and killing civilians, destroying the country’s infrastructure and using propaganda to create fear and chaos. Inspite of this, Albert apparently sees a halo around Putin’s head. Ukrainians, though, are not deceived. They remember the Hammer and Sickle years and want nothing to do with Putin’s “liberation”.

Politics

Uneasy About “The Great Reset”

July 16, 2022 Art Martens Leave a comment

As strongly urged by our government, Linda and I received the two initial shots of the Covid-19 vaccine in spring, 2021. We were given passports that opened doors to restaurants, gyms, movie theatres and just about any other place we wished to enter. To the extent possible, we observed health department guidelines, including social distancing, masking and washing hands. Living in Hedley, where the virus was kept largely at bay, we felt pretty safe. However, inspite of assurances by our Prime Minister, the WHO, and a variety of powerful entities that the vaccines are safe and effective, I wondered why we and many fellow citizens still felt uneasy.

I first became conscious of the unease when Linda and I met with friends in an Aldergrove restaurant shortly after receiving the passports. A waitress approached with her electronic gadget to record our information. I wondered if this was just to verify that we had received the vaccinations, or was it possibly the precursor of a government surveillance system. The latter has been suggested by some astute political observers. Almost certainly the passports contained a wealth of information about us. Would the government discontinue the passport system if, and when, we achieved victory over the virus? Or is it, as some believe, designed to induce blind obedience when we are given more onerous directives in the future?

An email from Ike, my conspiracy minded friend, was interesting but not helpful. He contended the vaccines are a “Mark of the Beast,” written about by John, an early follower of Jesus. The reference to “the Mark” is in the Biblical book of Revelation, written by the apostle when the Romans banished him to the inhospitable island of Patmos. Ike could not explain how the Revelation prophecy shed light on current developments.

Knowing there have been life ending viruses in the past, I didn’t regret having accepted the initial shots. Even so, I realized I needed to be wary of information offered by contrarian conspiracy minded zealots online. At the same time, I was disturbed by the relentless and uncompromising support by many in the media. For over a year almost every time I turned on the CBC 8 am news, I heard enthusiastic endorsements of vaccines, lockdowns, masking and other restrictive measures. As I became aware of the influence of an abundance of advertising dollars received by major media from pharmaceutical companies, I decided a potent dose of skepticism was required.

I began scrounging for alternative sources of information and learned that some pretty discerning individuals, including respected scientists, journalists and doctors were experiencing a profound disquiet concerning the vaccines and government policies. Some believe the pandemic and the vaccines are part of an insidious, global scheme by a cabal of billionaires and governments to control the people and wealth of the entire world. I recall in my mid teens reading about several highly secretive, politically powerful groups striving diligently behind the scenes to achieve such control. Do they now have the wealth, connections, technology and circumstances needed to achieve their ends?

Robert Kennedy, Jr., son of the late U.S. Attorney General, suggests that government technocrats, billionaire oligarchs, big Pharma, and others in high places love pandemics. “Catastrophic crises,” he contends, “create opportunities of convenience to increase power and wealth.” He reminds us that using crises and chaos to inflame public terror has served as the central strategy by totalitarian systems for millennia.

At the Nuremberg trials, Herman Goring, Hitler’s Luftwaffe commander boasted, “the people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is convince them they are being attacked and denounce the pacifists for exposing their country to greater danger.” Germany was a highly civilized nation with a rich culture. Even so, when the Nazis raised the spectre of threats from Jews, Gypsies and Communists, many educated Germans tolerated, and some participated in, atrocities.

The current pandemic has given huge influence to the World Economic Forum (WEF), a powerful player on the world scene. Prime Minister Justin Trudeau is a prominent member of this exclusive group. Its members have plans that, if successful, will impact every human. In a November, 2014 Forbes article, Ida Auken, a member of the WEF Leadershship Strategy Team wrote, “Welcome to the year 2030. I don’t own a car, a house, appliances or clothes. Occasionally I’m annoyed because I have no privacy. Nowhere I can go and not be registered. Somewhere everything I do, think and dream of is recorded. I just hope no one will use it against me. But all in all, it’s a good life.”

In “Covid 19: The Great Reset,” Klaus Schwab (founder of the WEF) and Thierry Malleret share their unsettling plans for shaping our lives in the future,

Wherever the truth lies, it’s a time to be informed and vigilant.

Living Significantly