Yesterday Linda and I were on our daily trek, which includes climbing Hospital Hill. The “Hill”, famous with the more ambitious walkers in Hedley, lies just past the bridge over 20 Mile Creek. Although there is no hospital on the hill, it retains the name from the days when there was one.
When I say it is part of the route taken by the more ambitious walkers in Hedley, it’s necessary to keep in mind that most of the citizens of this community who actually climb the hill are 70 and over. At the outside, it takes no more than about 5 minutes and serious climbers would scoff at the thought that it’s a challenging climb. Still, it does provoke our heart beat into overdrive and we can distinctly hear our breathing.
Although the sun was bright, the mercury in our thermometer had been at just above zero when we started out. As we were approaching the hill, we noticed a cat warming itself on the asphalt roof of a shed. Obviously the roof was radiating heat we didn’t feel. Seeing the cat, which appeared warm and entirely at ease, I wondered for a moment why we were making ourselves do this. Sitting in a secluded sunny corner, a cup of steaming hot coffee in hand, seemed like a good idea. But, we are humans.
It would not be an exaggeration to say last Friday was a Red Letter day for Ruth Woodin. The people of the community arrived in droves to celebrate her 20 years as Hedley Postmaster. The town’s organizations and many individuals brought cards and stayed for coffee and cake. Her body may have been sore at the end of the day from numerous warm hugs. It was the culmination of many years of smiling at customers and providing efficient, courteous service.
“I’m really fortunate to have so many nice customers,” she said. “A lot of people are very loyal to their local post office. They won’t buy their stamps anywhere else. They know that helps keep the service in town.”
The importance of supporting the Post Office is a message she feels everyone needs to be aware of. Occasionally she reminds a local citizen of this. “Several years ago a man came in with 75 Christmas cards,” she said. “They already had stamps affixed to them. I mentioned I didn’t recall him buying the stamps here. He told me he had bought them in Princeton. I explained to him it’s important to support the Hedley Post Office so the service isn’t discontinued. He understood immediately and promised me it wouldn’t happen again. A number of people in town have committed to buying stamps and other services here.”
At this time Ruth is Hedley’s second longest serving Postmaster. She hopes to overtake and pass the 22 year record held by highly respected Thomas (T.C.) Knowles. Knowles was a decorated member of the Canadian Armed Forces and served in World War I. Although no longer living in Hedley, his daughters Bev and Ann have valued roots and friendships in Hedley. The Knowles family sent Ruth a congratulatory card.
The Hedley Post Office was opened in 1903, initially located in Schubert’s General Store. Ruth said it is one of the oldest in the province. For years the Postmaster’s first duty in winter was to get a fire going in the wood stove. She is grateful she doesn’t come into a frigid office in the morning. The premises were last renovated in 1978 and would benefit from another face lift, but no one is complaining. People are just grateful to have a Post Office in town. Without it, buying a stamp would entail a lot more effort.
Canada Post provided several door prizes for the occasion, including a 2011 book containing every stamp issued that year. Fittingly, this was won by local historian, Jennifer Douglass. The chocolate cake was baked by T.J. Bratt of the Hedley Country Market and received numerous positive comments.
Local MLA Linda Larson sent a letter congratulating Ruth on 20 years of serving her community faithfully as postmaster. Pat, who works in the constituency office had read about Ruth online. She spoke with a local citizen and said, “It sounds like a very friendly Post Office. I wish I could pick up my mail in Hedley.” Judging by the happy buzz in the place on Friday, the people agree with this perspective.
“Powerlessness and silence go together. We should use our privileged positions not as a shelter from world’s reality, but as a platform from which to speak. A voice is a gift. It should be cherished and used.”
I discovered Terry Friesen’s online photos approximately 2 years ago and have returned to them repeatedly since then. I called Terry at his home in Abbotsford this week and asked if I could “borrow” pictures occasionally for my blog. He very graciously acquiesced so from time to time I will post examples of his photography.
In his work life Terry refers to himself as a Re-decorator. He paints and hangs wall paper (including tricky murals) He has frequently written on his blog (terryography.blogspot.com) about jobs just completed. For me it’s fascinating reading. For anyone contemplating giving a new face to their home it can be helpful.
Terry said he doesn’t do new homes. “From the beginning, I learned to be very careful around my customers’ furniture,” he said. “My son Andrew is my partner. He’s even more careful. It’s a privilege to work together with him. Working for customers in their homes is a lot more enjoyable for me than dealing with contractors. Contractors are more interested in getting the job done fast than in quality work.”
I hope you will enjoy Terry’s photos as much as I do. You can view a broad range of his photos at https://www.flickr.com/photos/131268075@N06/page1/
Linda and I were still at the table in our sun room after breakfast last week when a firm knock on the front door surprised us. It was Barry, our next door neighbour. Visits from him are a rarity, so we knew intuitively something of importance had prompted him to come. The January air carried a distinct chill and he was wearing a parka with the hood up. I invited him in but he declined.
“I just came to tell you I’ve arranged for Silk to be put down today,” he said. His voice became raspy and he put a hand to his throat as though to help him speak. I could see this was an extremely difficult message for him to deliver. I again invited him in, but once more he declined. “I thought you might want to come and see her,” he said, “before I take her to the vet.”
He paused and momentarily turned away to look toward his yard, possibly hoping to catch a glimpse of the dog. Then, still in the clutches of an emotional moment, he suggested “maybe you could take a picture of her for the blog. After all, she was sort of a community dog.”
“ I’ll get a jacket on and come over immediately” I said. A few minutes later Linda and I approached the gate to Barry and Sharon’s high wood fence and were accosted by their two black Bernese Mountain dogs, barking and wagging their tails vigorously. Silk, a partial Golden Retriever hobbled toward us, obviously uncomfortable but wanting to be part of this social event.
Although age and failing health had robbed her of her former robust vitality, and weakened hind quarters caused her movements to be laboured, her face retained an elegant beauty. She had not lost her desire to be in the company of friends.
For years, we had frequently observed Silk purposely wandering around town, alert for a rabbit to harass or a human to give her a few strokes. She had arrived in Hedley with the Nimchuk family. They had acquired her fourteen years ago as a 5 month old pup when they still lived on a 10 acre property, where she had freedom to explore. Not having a fence and not wanting to curtail her love of roaming and meeting people, they had allowed her to patrol the town. She had offered friendship to everyone she met, and many of us had gladly given her the strokes she craved. Silk enjoyed people and people enjoyed her.
Now, while he was attempting to keep the two younger dogs away, Barry told us how Silk had attached herself to him and Sharon, and their dogs. “Eight years ago she got a paw caught in the wire fence I had at that time”, he said. “I freed her and she began hanging around and spending time with us and our dogs”. The Nimchuks recognized that she was at ease and happy with them. Silk gradually became part of the family, and we frequently saw Barry and the three dogs departing for a trek early in the morning. It was evident that Silk felt accepted.
Silk occasionally visited the Nimchuks. Ayrelea, one of their daughters, at times took her for a walk. On such occasions she usually groomed and hand fed her.
I snapped a few photos of Silk. She stood quietly, as though understanding these pictures would provide her family and many friends with a means to remember her. Then she lay down, obviously having exhausted her meagre reserves of energy and strength. Calm and unmoving, she watched the two younger dogs capering about the yard. Possibly age had given her the understanding this time would come and she was facing it with dignity and a sense of deep inner equanimity.
Doug and Michelle Nimchuk and their four children arrived to bid Silk a sad farewell. They wanted to take her for one last walk around the block. She was eager and her spirit was willing, but her hind quarters would not support her.
When the time of her departure drew near, Barry lovingly and gently placed Silk in his van for her final ride. She was truly a lady of distinction. The town has lost a faithful friend.
In a 2 hour telephone conversation from her home in Florida last week, paralympic gold medalist Lauren Barwick told me about her devastating accident and how it changed her life. Born in Langley, BC, she loved horses and riding. When a 100 pound bale of hay fell on her and broke her back, she lost all strength and feeling in her legs from her hips down. That day she also lost her dream of being a movies stunt rider.
“After 2 months in the G.F. Strong Rehab Centre,” she said, “I returned to my home, thinking everything I had wanted to do was now impossible. Mom urged me to get on a horse, but I told her I wanted nothing to do with that.”
Only 22 when the accident happened in 2000, she drifted into a state of deep discouragement and depression. A former coach visited, and against vigorous protests, put her on a horse. He talked about preparing for the 2004 Athens Paralympics.
“I had been doing a lot of reflecting,” she said. “I knew I had 3 options. I could be miserable and make people around me miserable. I could end my life. Or, I could move on. I stopped asking ‘why me?’ Instead I now asked, ‘Why would I not be able to win a gold medal?’”
She had trained briefly at the renowned Parelli ranch prior to the accident, but had not completely bought into their philosophy. Now she negotiated with them and returned to the ranch.
Having no lower back muscles and no feeling in her legs, she embarked on a vigorous, disciplined program to strengthen her upper body. Regular visits to the gym included throwing a medicine ball and a lot of time on pulling machines. Outside she did sprints, and also longer distances, in her wheel chair. She grew stronger and now does 10 kilometres a day 2 to 3 times per week. She found mentors and read inspirational books. “I needed to become strong mentally, emotionally and physically,” she said.
The Parelli teaching was well suited to her physical circumstances. Pat Parelli emphasizes partnership without domination and willingness without intimidation. “Don’t kick the horse to start, don’t pull the reins to stop,” is basic to his teaching. Lauren’s philosophy reflects this understanding. There was evident joy in her voice when she said, “my horses catch me. I don’t catch them. I don’t force them to do what I want them to do. A horse can be an incredible partner.”
For Lauren the relationship with a horse is important, even precious. “I treat a horse the way I like to be treated. I want to be my horse’s first choice. I have to earn that by showing respect. It’s the same with humans.” She still stays up late to watch videos about horses. “Studying horsemanship has taught me about myself, morals, the way I live.”
This understanding helps her focus on the good in her life. She is grateful, especially to the Parellis. While under their sponsorship they paid her competition fees and provided accommodation and food. “The Parelli’s enabled me to obtain an incredible education.” She also appreciates the assistance of Canada’s “Own the Podium” program and Equine Canada.
Lauren’s capacity to focus on her vision, her discipline and courage in the face of seemingly insurmountable obstacles, have earned her a place on the international equestrian stage. She has participated in some 50 international events, including 4 world games and the Beijing Paralympics, where she won silver and gold. She is also a much in demand public speaker, providing inspirational talks based on her life. Currently she is training for the Rio 2016 Paralympics.
A 4-star instructor in the Parelli Natural Horsemanship program, she operates her own farm and training centre at Reddick, Florida. She rides 2 to 5 horses a day, usually 6 days a week. Without use of her legs, this is tiring. For 2 to 9 hours a day she teaches horsemanship and conducts clinics and work shops. Her program, Bridging the Gap, attracts clients from diverse places like Germany, Norway, New Zealand, England and the U.S.
Lauren Barwick acknowledges that “since the day when that 100 pound bale broke my back, it hasn’t been easy.” Her parting words to me were, “We need to be open minded. That enables us to see the ideas and opportunities that may help us.”
Last week, sitting at our kitchen table with Tom and Pat Siddon of Kaleden, Linda and I received the benefit of a 2 hour political seminar. When Tom began speaking, I set aside my interview notes and listened with great interest. He had been an MP during the years when Joe Clark, Pierre Trudeau and Brian Mulroney held the reins of power in Ottawa. In the Mulroney years he served in several key cabinet posts.
“I was born in Drumheller, Alberta into a family of modest circumstances,” he said at the outset. “ My dad was a barber. He was determined I wouldn’t follow in his footsteps.”
Tom studied Mechanical Engineering at the University of Alberta, not a common career track for an aspiring politician, but at that time he wasn’t considering politics. This is where he met Joe Clark, future Canadian PM, and also Pat. He and Pat were married at the beginning of his final year. She discontinued her studies to work so he could attain a Phd. at the University of Toronto’s Institute of Aeronautical Studies. “Pat was typing my thesis one day when I suddenly needed to rush her to the hospital to have our second son,” he said.
While teaching engineering at UBC he joined a group opposed to the construction of 3 high rise towers in Richmond. This experience persuaded him to run for a position on council. In the 1975 city elections, campaigning with Pat at his side, he defeated an incumbent councillor by 20 votes.
In this role he began garnering political experience and credibility. When he agreed to run in a federal by-election in Richmond, his parents didn’t understand. “You have a good career teaching at UBC,” they admonished him. “Why go into politics?”
Elected, he and Pat soon learned about the uncertainties inherent in a political career. In 1979 he was re-elected in the general election which handed Joe Clark a short lived minority government. “We moved our family to Ottawa and enrolled our children in school,” he said. “Then our government was defeated on a budget vote. We moved back to Richmond.”
Voters had come to trust Tom and gave him the nod in the 1980 election. This time he found himself sitting in the benches of the Official Opposition, facing a Pierre Trudeau government.
As is common after an election defeat, the Conservatives held a leadership vote. Tom deemed Brian Mulroney (a skilled labour lawyer and CEO of the Iron Ore Co. of Canada) to be the most promising candidate. Mulroney won, and Tom’s support would prove to have been prudent.
After taking power in the 1984 vote, Mulroney named Tom Minister of State for Science and Technology. In this role he was on hand to watch Mark Garneau being launched into space at Cape Kennedy.
When Mulroney subsequently appointed him Minister of Fisheries and Oceans, Tom needed to deal with the sticky issue of disappearing cod stocks. “My science background enabled me to understand what the scientists were telling me,” he said. “I felt they were wrong and decided to close the cod fishery. I was roundly condemned for this by some but my instincts were correct. Even now the cod haven’t come back.”
His appointment as Minister of Indian Affairs and Northern Development in 1990 led to what he considers his most significant achievement, the creation of Nunavut.
“Pat and I were taken by dog sled across ice and snow to Igloolik on the western side of Hudson’s Bay,” he said. “Our Inuit guide built an igloo and that night we slept in it on caribou skins. In the morning I woke with my back against a block of ice.”
As part of the signing ceremony they were offered Inuit delicacies such as raw caribou, bear and Arctic char. Pat avoided most of the meal by handing out gifts of fresh fruit and daffodils. The signing ceremony laid out the basis for negotiations over the next 3 years. In appreciation of his dedicated work, Tom was presented with a carving of an Inuit hunter cutting snow blocks. In 2015 the Siddons returned the carving, considering it a treasure that belonged to Nunavut.
Today, among various involvements, Tom Siddon is Area D Director in the Regional District of Okanagan-Similkameen. His partnership with Pat still strong, he continues to believe being in politics should not be for personal honour. It must be to serve the community and the nation.
Linda and I drove from the Fraser Valley to Hedley December 28th, after celebrating Christmas with family and friends. We stopped at Manning Park Lodge just long enough to buy coffee and get a few photos. This stretch of the #3 Highway again offered a winter splendor that fostered a deep sense of delight.
When I recently heard about the assassination of Gisela Mota, a Mexican mayor, I considered it of little concern for myself and my neighbours in the Similkameen Valley. Surely, I thought, our society will never spiral downward to where drug cartels are able to kill politicians almost at will.
Maybe I was a tad overly complacent. A conversation with Monica a couple of days later caused me more than a twinge of concern. After moving from New Brunswick with her daughter Curly, and 2 younger children, her anticipation of a peaceful life here was shattered. Sixteen year old, musically gifted Curly began hanging out with youths skipping classes and smoking drugs. She started dating older guys doing cocaine and heroin. Soon Curly too was hooked on hard drugs.
Understandably, Monica fears retaliation from the traffickers and asked me to not use her real name. “Curly is behind in paying for drugs,” she said. “She’s been warned there will be serious consequences. I know she’s taking things from my home and selling them to pay. Now they expect her to be a drug runner. She’s scared, but it’s a bit late.”
A note of deep despair crept into Monica’s voice. “The police and government people are sympathetic, but their hands seem to be tied. I’m trying to persuade my daughter to go into a rehab facility, but it’s like all she can think about now is getting drugs. She doesn’t understand these people are wrecking her future. I can’t get help anywhere.” A single tear trickled slowly down Monica’s cheek. She’s fighting a lonely battle.
It’s alarming that as a society we don’t grasp the extent to which drugs have infiltrated the lives of our next generation of citizens and leaders. We seemingly don’t possess the will or know-how to deal with the curse of illicit drug use. In Hedley we have a dealer who does a pretty brisk business. Customers go to his house in broad daylight. Some are selling to youths. People are appalled that this is happening in our community.
Some years ago in another setting, I received a lesson about how a community can oppose those who seek to bring harm to citizens. Our opponent was a powerful, air polluting US corporation. Several individuals were so spooked they wrote letters to the local paper advising us to back off, because we were like dwarfs against this corporate giant with its deep pockets and high priced attorneys.
We began with a committee of about 10 concerned individuals and invited a couple of community leaders to meet with us. Realizing we needed to educate people regarding the health implications for their children and grandchildren, we asked a reporter with the local newspaper to attend our next meeting. She was a firebrand and began researching the issue and writing about it. We wanted people to understand this was a danger that would impact them personally.
Our small committee quickly grew into a group of approximately 30 committed citizens. We wrote a letter to the National Energy Board (NEB) and set a goal of having 10,000 individuals send copies of this letter to the Board.
Increasingly, people became aware of the serious implications for their own health and that of their children. Many picked up copies of the letter and urged their family, friends, and co-workers to sign it.
Initially, the mayor and city hall welcomed the corporation but as the community pressure against it increased, the mayor realized he’d have to join us. Our local MLA provided paper and extensive use of his office copier to produce thousands of letters. The head of the Downtown Business Association did the same. She also provided a booth at the town’s summer festival.
All told we generated some 20,000 letters to the NEB, as well as other documentation. We sent so much material, one of the NEB fax machines burned out. It was a tough fight over several years, but in the end we won.
Just wringing our hands will accomplish nothing. However, with leadership, a comprehension by the community of the personal implications, a plan that people can participate in, and dialogue with police, there could be a significant push back against those who are destroying the lives of young people like Curly. This is not a total answer, but community ownership could be an important first step.
“For to us a child is born, to us a Son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”
Isaiah 9:6, The Holy Bible
A small town perspective on people, community, politics and environment.