Attorney Speaks Of Wills And Life

Veronica Armstrong
Veronica Armstrong

Sitting at the round table in our sun room this week, Richmond attorney Veronica Armstrong talked about her life and her legal practice. She had given a free presentation on wills and personal planning at the Hedley Seniors’ Centre Saturday evening. Linda and I invited her to come for coffee before returning to her home Monday morning.

“My husband and I moved to Canada from South Africa in 1998,” she told us. “Our home was in Johannesburg, a leading financial centre at the time. We came for our 3 children. There was a lot of crime. We didn’t want them to have to look over their shoulders all the time.”

As with many immigrants, the move proved to be difficult for her. Having experienced the end of Apartheid, she had very much wanted to be part of the transition to a more equitable society. Not knowing many people in her new community, she felt deeply lonely. Also, in spite of solid legal experience in the financial realm in South Africa, finding employment in Canada was challenging.

Veronica is fluent in English and Afrikaans, and also speaks enough Cantonese to get by. “In South Africa I worked for a huge bank,” she said. “I was head of the bank’s international legal division. When I looked for work in Canada, employers intimated I had come from some remote backwater. The only job I could get initially was at a Taco Time.”

In 1999 the B.C. Securities Commission advertised a position. The competition had actually closed a week earlier, but she called and asked if she could still apply. When she told them she had considerable experience with derivatives, they instructed her to fax her resume immediately. They were looking at applications that afternoon.

Veronica was hired and worked for the Commission from 1999-2007, then joined a start-up company in real estate. When the crash of 2008 killed the company, she founded her own law practice, Veronica Armstrong Law Corporation, and started over. Her focus now is primarily on wills and personal planning, including power of attorney and representative agreements. She also does some small business contracts. All her clients, many of whom are women, come to her by referral. “Sometimes they just need to talk about their planning,” she said. “When they know they have done it right, they can relax.”

I asked Veronica what basic counsel she has for people. “Wills aren’t important just for people up in age,” she said. “It‘s a good idea for younger people to have a will too. Also, review the will, especially when there has been a major change such as a birth or a death in the family. Begin to have a conversation with the executor of your will or whoever has the power of attorney. Make your wishes known. Deal with legal and financial matters.”

“It’s also a good idea to have a Representative Agreement,” she continued. “This puts in writing your wishes concerning personal care and health care.” Legal advice is important so it’s done right, she suggested.

We then went on to ask Veronica further about her interests and activities away from her office. She smiled broadly as she talked with great enthusiasm about her 3 children. There was also excitement in her voice when she told us about her role in music at the church she attends. “There are about 3,000 families,” she said. “We have people from the Philippines, Goa (India), Africa and China, as well as many Caucasians.” She sings in 2 choirs and leads one church choir. Music is a joy and she continues to take voice lessons. Sensing her excitement when she talked about the church involvement, it was easy to conclude this is where she finds a great deal of inclusion and fulfillment.

When I asked about her purpose in life, she said, “I tried to figure this out for about a year. Now I understand that my purpose is to love. I smile at people a lot when I’m out walking. Some smile back. Some probably think I’m crazy.”

When we bade her goodbye, she smiled and gave us each a warm hug. An attorney whose interest goes far beyond wills and contracts, she does indeed love people. It’s easy to smile when Veronica smiles.

Reverence And Awe For Veterans

Veterans at Hedley Cenotaph
Veterans at Hedley Cenotaph

I have many times experienced a tingling of awe and reverence watching aging veterans solemnly marching in measured cadence to the Hedley cenotaph, a solitary piper playing martial music. Invariably, their visages are inscrutable, possibly remembering fallen comrades. On Remembrance Day we honour them, but unless we have hunkered down behind rocks in the mountains of Afghanistan under attack by the Taliban, or flown in bombing missions against ISIS, we cannot know the fear and danger many vets have endured.

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I returned recently to the account of Louis Zamperini in the best selling book and movie, Unbroken. An Olympic runner, Louis’ athletic career was interrupted by World War 11. The Green Hornet, in which he served as a bombardier, went down over the Pacific Ocean on May 27, 1943. He and 2 crew members inflated two rubber rafts and began floating toward Japanese held territory. Their only food was several thick Hershey chocolate bars designed to be unpalatably bitter A few half pint tins of water, a fishing line and hooks, a brass mirror and a patch kit were among their meagre supplies.

Near the equator, they endured heat during the day and cold at night. Sharks 6 to 12 feet long circled the rafts incessantly, rubbing against the undersides. Their clothes were growing looser.

Determined to survive, Louis and Phil, pilot of the Green Hornet, challenged each other and willed fear away. Mac, another crew member, became increasingly pessimistic and resigned. His body grew weaker, following his spirit. One night, immersed in depression, he ate the remaining chocolate.

Louis captured 2 albatrosses, which they ate. He and Phil devised an ingenious plan and killed 2 sharks. They ate the livers. Having no drinking water Louis, whose lifestyle had been thoroughly irreligious, prayed for rain. The next day there was a downpour.

One day 2 Japanese planes strafed them, damaging the rafts but not wounding the men. That night they fought off sharks while baling water and repairing the rafts. In the water, Louis thwarted a shark attack by punching it hard on the nose. He promised if God would save them, he’d serve Heaven forever.

On Day 47 , they landed on an atoll of the Marshall Islands. Mac had given up and died. Gaunt in their ragged clothes, Louis and Phil were taken prisoner by the Japanese. Their initial captors treated them well. When Louis was sent to “Execution Island” though, a new ordeal began. In a small cell he shared with rats, fleas and mosquitoes, he received 2 cups of water per day. Rice balls were thrown on the gravel floor. Guards beat and poked him with sticks.

“The guards tried to rob us of our dignity and self-worth,” Louis wrote later. “I made a decision to not let them break me.”

One guard, The Bird, singled out Louis for particularly harsh attention. He regularly clubbed him and punched him in the face. Sometimes he forced him to stand holding a long beam over his head. In the final weeks of the war, he told Louis to fill a barrel with water. “Tomorrow I’m going to drown you,” The Bird told him. Only the end of the war prevented the prisoners from following through on a plot to kill this inhumane tormentor.

Free and back home, Louis could not escape the horrors he had endured. In flashbacks and nightmares, lice and fleas wriggled over his body. The Bird struck him with the heavy steel buckle on his belt. “I believed only The Bird could restore me, by suffering and dying in the grip of my hands.” One night he woke up on his wife Cynthia, choking her. Alcohol was destroying their marriage.

Although he resisted strenuously, Cynthia persuaded him to a attend a rally of a young Billy Graham. Graham’s words penetrated into the depth of his being and he was reminded of his promise on the raft. He responded to Graham’s invitation to accept God’s healing and never had another flashback.

In time he wanted to meet and forgive those who had tormented him. The Bird refused, but when Louis met many of the former tormentors in a Japanese prison, they warmly embraced him and his message.

For combatants, the inner battles don’t always end when they are demobilized. As a nation we need to commit to their physical, mental and emotional healing.

Autumn Beauty In Leaves And People

Manning Park Resort in Autumn
Manning Park Resort in Autumn

I reserve all forms of the word “amaze” for only that which is truly extraordinary. For me, autumn colours have an impact on my psyche and senses that I consider amazing. In Manning Park a month ago, the yellow leaves were lighted brilliantly by the October sun. At various points along Highway 3 between Hedley and Hope, numerous splashes of yellow contrasted with the green forest that blankets the towering mountains. Standing on the bridge across 20 Mile Creek here in Hedley a few days later, I was awed by the spectacular wall of yellow alongside the creek. A grove of trees on a meadow on Nickel Plate Mountain provided an astounding array of red leaves.

For me, “amazing” is an appropriate word to describe the manner in which Mother Nature, like a quick change artist, suddenly strips the colour and beauty from the trees, leaving them bereft and stark, at times dripping with rain. The change tends to leave me feeling somewhat bereft myself, and a little mystified at how silently and surreptitiously this is accomplished.

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This autumn the falling of the leaves came quickly, coinciding with the passing of 3 valued friends. In each case, like the leaves, they departed too soon. As a university student Eric Robinson was for two summers a labourer/teacher with Frontier College. He later became principle of the college, received an honourary doctorate from the University of Calgary and was awarded the Order of Ontario. Although I had not seen Eric in years prior to his passing, I continue to miss his warmth and ability to speak about ideas. Another lost friend is Barry Berger of Keremeos. A physically large man with a self deprecating sense of humour, Barry worked with street people in Vancouver, sometimes in dangerous circumstances. Cousin Eddy, who I wrote about last week is another individual I will miss. Known as “Fast Eddy,” he was a highly skilled and respected truck driver. Each of these individuals exemplified qualities I enjoyed and respected.

Both fall leaves and human lives possess the capacity to create in me a sense of awe. Then all too quickly the beauty begins to recede and soon fades into oblivion. Just as we have a short time to observe and appreciate the grandeur of nature’s autumn colours, the opportunity to understand and appreciate the people in our lives is also relatively short.

Fortunately the colours of late fall can still impress, and so can the wisdom of people, especially those with white hair. I’ve concluded that if I stand still long enough to take note of the leaves, and take time to get to know the people around me, the sense of amazement can always be there.

A Friend To “Untouchables”

 

Arnet Hales
Arnet Hales

Almost without exception, most of us avoid associating with the “untouchables” in our society. It’s even more unlikely we will seek them out with the intent of being their friend. Arnet Hales is one of that rare breed willing to be a friend to those society has cast off as worthless scum.

I first met Arnet in Hedley in the 1980’s when he was 27, phenomenally fit and about to attain a Black Belt in karate. His brutal training regimen sent shivers along my spine. He had come to work at the wilderness camp for young offenders operated by the One Way Adventure Foundation.

In September of this year, Arnet and spouse Gina travelled 1700 kilometres to the Idaho Maximum Security Institution so he could visit for two hours with a man he did not know and had never met. Brian, the inmate he visited, has served 10 years of his sentence, receives no visits, and, according to Arnet, “is unlikely to ever see the street again.” Arnet chooses not to ask about Brian’s crime but knows he is not welcome outside prison walls.

When the Hales visited Linda and me on their return trip from Idaho, I saw that the past 35 years have exacted a heavy toll on Arnet’s once impressive trim physique. “Several years ago an illness landed me in a hospital isolation ward for 6 months,” he said. “The medical people weren’t sure I’d ever get out. I still have little short term memory and my balance is uncertain.” The resolute determination we observed in his martial arts workouts is still there though, and he has extended his walking from 60 steps to 8,200.

His early pilgrimage was on a treacherous path, mired in a quicksand of turmoil. “My dad had a serious gambling addiction and was probably in jail when I was born in 1949,” he said. “My mom took my sister and me out of the home and moved us to a hotel in a seedy section of Swift Current, Saskatchewan. I was sexually assaulted there by a resident.”

In 1967 he ran away from home and lived on the streets for a year. “That December I was arrested with a pocket full of drugs. I did 3 years in jail for that.” Upon release he got a truck driving job but rear ended a car, “probably due to an alcoholic binge the night before.” He was quickly fired and a period of deep depression ensued.

His life took a more positive turn in 1974 when he met Marilyn. “She was beautiful and I loved her,” he said. “I don’t know if she loved me, but she tolerated me.” She invited him to a Sally Ann production. “I went so I’d be able to sit beside her. She was in the production and that didn’t happen.” He says he did have a spiritual experience though and heard a voice say, “Arnet, it’s time to come home.” That night he slept through to the morning for the first time in years, and his life began to change. Possibly his own arduous journey helps him understand Brian desperately needs a friend.

It began several years ago when a woman in Pt. Hardy handed him a letter and said, “I think you’re the one to respond to this.”

Many letters later, Gina told Arnet she had holidays coming in September. She suggested they drive to Idaho so he could visit Brian. They arrived at the prison September 11 and Arnet was escorted into the visits area. A glass barrier would prevent physical contact.

“Brian was brought in, his hands cuffed tightly behind his back. His head was lowered until the cuffs were removed. When he looked up and realized I was the visitor, he smiled broadly.”

At the end of their visit Arnet said a prayer for Brian. Glancing up, he saw that Brian had placed his finger tips against the glass separating them. Arnet placed his finger tips against the glass opposite Brian’s. In 10 years it was the closest this lonely man had come to having positive physical contact with anyone outside the prison.

“I just want Brian to know he’s not totally alone,” Arnet said in response to my question. “I want him to know he has a friend.”

In a subsequent letter, Brian wrote “I told the chaplain, Arnet is my friend.”

The Conversation I Missed

dump truck

When I received the email saying cousin Eddy had just passed away, a thought emerged unbidden from the misty depths of my sub-conscious. It suggested there was a conversation I had not had with Eddy. Now the opportunity had slipped away and a sense of dark disquiet settled in the bowels of my psyche.

I always called Eddy on his birthday. However, in work and life experience, we had walked on radically different paths. I realized now that conversationally we had not drilled deep enough.

A few days after the email, Eddy’s sister asked me to gather information about his life and write the eulogy. Maybe, I thought, his 8 surviving siblings would be able to answer some of the questions I should have asked him.

I wanted to know what had given him meaning and a sense of fulfillment. What had been important to him? What had given him pleasure and joy? Had anything surprised him? Did he regret anything? Who had he been close to? What were his thoughts, knowing he would shortly draw his final breath??

Eddy was born at home in a small settlement not far from Steinbach, Manitoba, the same area in which I was born. He was delivered by our grandmother Susana, who in her time delivered hundreds of babies. Our mothers were sisters. In 1947 the family moved to the Fraser Valley and when he was old enough, he quit school and got a job.

Most of his 9 siblings became successful in real estate. Several gravitated to the eye glass business. Eddy worked as a trucker, driving first a highway rig and in recent years a dump truck.

It was well known that he lived with a couple of addictions. One sister said, “he enjoyed his alcohol and cigarettes.” His siblings were concerned about this but he apparently did not give much thought to the health implications. If there was a price to pay, he would pay it without grumbling. Unlike some who are driven to despair and life on the street by substance dependency, Eddy possessed the inner ruggedness to carry on with work and a social life.

His siblings are now focusing on the positives. “In his early years,” Alven his youngest brother recalled, “Eddy was a great yodeler. He played the accordian very well. He tried to teach me but that didn’t go anywhere. He was my big brother.”

Being a truck driver gave Eddy a sense of deep purpose and self-respect. Jake, an older brother said, “he was a born trucker. For him the truck was almost like a live person. When his truck was being loaded, he stood on the running board to watch. He didn’t allow it to be overloaded.”

Vic, the superintendent on many high rise projects Eddy drove for said, “he was my best driver. When we were ready to begin digging a hole for a new building, in the morning I’d see a truck come flying around the corner. It was always Eddy. He set the pace.” Cathy, his life partner, said he was called “Fast Eddy” by other truckers. He retired at age 70. In appreciation for his faithful service, his employer sent him and Kathy to Mexico for a holiday.

Eddy’s joy came from an extraordinarily close relationship with Cathy, the love of his life for the past 10 years. “Five years ago our dog Princess and I began riding in the truck with him on his jobs,” she said.“I’d pack a lunch, sometimes it was buns with sliced meat and tomatoes. We’d stop in a park and eat. Eddy often told people we have a picnic everyday.” Rob Redekop, the company owner, said that when Cathy started riding with Eddy the paperwork improved.

For 20 years a shadow had hovered over Eddy’s life. He had not talked with his only son during that time and didn’t know how to bring about a healing of the relationship. A week before he passed away, his brothers Jake and Andy approached the son about a reconciliation. Eddy’s younger sister Leona shaved Eddy and cut his hair, to prepare him for the surprise visit. It went well, and Eddy’s son and family are now getting used to being part of the extended family.

According to Alven, just before his passing Eddy said, “I’ve made peace with God. I’m not scared to die. I’m happy.” He drew his last breath while Alven was holding him in his arms.

 

Allurements Of A Hedley Autumn

20 Mile Creek in Autumn
20 Mile Creek in Autumn

The Creator’s paint brush has been sprucing up the landscape this month. We’re enjoying it, knowing that the darker colours of late autumn are also beginning to be etched in. Linda and I love standing on either of the bridges in town, gazing along 20 Mile Creek. The shadings of colour are altered a little each day. At this time the water flow is meagre. The weatherman isn’t promising us much precipitation yet. Normally we can expect the first sprinklings of snow in November. That will bring another kind of beauty.

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We’re beginning to see plumes of smoke streaming up from chimneys. Some of our wood burning neighbours have their stock in and under cover. A few still have a lot of sweating to do before the wood is ready for the stove.

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Schizandra and Evangeline bring a welcome ray of sunshine in autumn, and every other season. It’s a joy to observe their light footed scampering. They love giving away little pictures they have drawn. On Sunday Evangeline gave me a cookie in church. The girls were pretty standoffish for some time. Lately they have at times made friendly overtures.

Stemwinder Mountain on an autumn morning
Stemwinder Mountain on an autumn morning

This morning the sun began lighting up the top of Stemwinder Mtn. just before 9 am. We watch for that because it means the sun will be streaming into our rear windows in about half an hour.

Autumn is a season to enjoy.

Politics Is A Fickle Mistress

All Candidates Meeting
All Candidates Meeting

For the past two months hundreds of decent, well intentioned individuals all over Canada have worked unstintingly to win the right to represent their constituency. Because my neighbour Angelique Wood was one of these dedicated ones, I have some comprehension of the energy and focus required to campaign effectively. Particularly in the last month, her car was rarely at home. Undoubtedly, she and most candidates entered the race motivated by a desire to make a positive difference. They have laudable intent, but in time the winners may conclude politics is a fickle and frivolous mistress.

Increasingly over the past four years, there has been a growing sense on the part of Canadians that our democracy has become confoundingly undemocratic. The Prime Minister controls the appointment of many key figures in our system of government, including the Governor General, members of the cabinet, justices of the Supreme Court, senators, heads of crown corporations, ambassadors to foreign countries, provincial lieutenant governors, and approximately 3,100 others. The appointees feel beholden to the PM and most do not dare voice disagreement with government policy.

The National Post’s Andrew Coyne recently wrote, “cabinet does not matter. It does not govern. That is the job of the Prime Minister and the group of political staff he has around him.” This is not new. Several Prime Ministers in recent decades have chosen to govern almost as dictators.

Some pundits contend it was Pierre Trudeau who first began seriously consolidating power in the Prime Minister’s office. Certainly his charisma generated a dizzying excitement in the electorate and people anticipated positive change. By the 1972 election though, the “halo effect” had run its course. Peter C Newman said being reduced to a minority government “was due to one central fact. He had lost touch with his constituency. He functioned the first 54 months in office as head of a government, not the leader of a nation. He didn’t understand Canadians and their concerns. What was worse, he didn’t appear to care.”

Although our democracy doesn’t prevent leaders with dictatorial inclinations from rising to the top, it does possess the means to push them ignominiously from “the throne.” Trudeau managed to hold onto power but, prior to the 1984 election, polls indicated the Liberals would not win with him at the helm. Chastened, he stepped down.

Voters then gave the Liberals a political spanking, allotting them only 40 seats. Brian Mulroney and the Conservatives snatched 211, the largest majority in Canadian history. Unfortunately, Mulroney didn’t learn the lesson of the Liberal debacle. He greatly irritated Canadians with the detested GST. When polls indicated he had lost support of voters, he retired just prior to the 1993 election.

We replaced Mulroney with Jean Chretien, who did not keep his famous “Red Book” promises. He also allowed the “Sponsorship Scandal” in which some two hundred million dollars were squandered. In time, voters wearied of the Liberals’ evident sense of entitlement and Chretien, under extreme duress, agreed to retire.

More recently, Stephen Harper, like Trudeau, Mulroney and Chretien, has ruled with a heavy hand and alienated large numbers of Canadians. MP’s, and even most cabinet ministers, received instructions as to what they were permitted to say in public. Scientists and others were also muzzled.

The problem of party leaders gripping the reins of power too tightly isn’t confined to the party in government. Writing in “Tragedy in the Commons,” Alison Loat and Michael MacMillan suggest “Canadian party leaders today enjoy a remarkable amount of power when measured against peers in Canadian history, or against leaders in similar parliamentary systems around the world.”

There is one possible glimmer of hope. Conservative MP Michael Chong has stickhandled a bill through Parliament that gives MP’s the power to trigger a leadership review and subsequently vote to oust the leader of their party. In a watered down version, the bill was approved by a majority of government MP’s. Very likely they realized many constituents longed to give them the heave ho for the PM’s undemocratic rule. In spite of some resistance in the Senate, the bill was passed and the Reform Act received Royal Assent this summer.

In politics there are few guarantees of course, but this could be a small step toward change. In time, newly elected MP’s could have a more substantive role. Canadian democracy may yet smile.

Pacific Crest Trail

Jay and his magnificent beard
Jay and his magnificent beard

When Linda and I stopped for coffee at Manning Park yesterday, we met several individuals who had just completed hiking the Pacific Crest Trail. One of them was Jay, a young man probably a little upward of age 25. He sported a black beard a lot of men would envy. His lean physique reminded me of mountain men I’ve seen in movies. I asked if he had been hiking in the park.

“I’ve actually just come off the Pacific Crest Trail,” he said. “I started in Campo, California 175 days ago.” He looked down at his feet and said, “this I my seventh pair of runners. I wore out 6 pairs.

Pacific Crest Trail overview from Forest Service brochure
Pacific Crest Trail overview from Forest Service brochure

Most of those intrepid individuals who walk the entire trail begin at the southern terminus near the U.S. – Mexico border. In length it is 4,286 km. (2,663 miles) and reaches an elevation of 4,009 meters (13,153 ft.). The trail traverses California, Oregon and Washington, ending at Monument 78 at the U.S.- Canada border. This is on the edge of Manning Park.

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Adriana answered the phone at Manning Park Lodge when I called with a few questions. She estimated they see 40-60 of these long distance hikers at the park each year. “They begin arriving sometime in August,” she said. “By the end of October the last ones have straggled in. They’re always pretty thin.”

While I was talking with Jay, Linda approached another young man who had also just completed the trail.

“You appear very fit and lean,” she said.

“Yes,” he agreed. “Doing the trail, you lose all your body fat.”

A young woman standing nearby was listening intently, then broke in. “I’ve just come off the trail today,” she said. “I didn’t lose all my body fat. It doesn’t seem quite fair.”

It is believed that about 300 hikers challenge the trail each year. About 180 complete it. It is also common to attempt only a portion of the trail. Probably the most common reason for failure to complete the entire length is running out of funds. Some hikers have re-supply packages sent to themselves at postal outlets or general stores in communities along the way.

Planning and commitment are considered essential. It is a gruelling trek and there have been occasional deaths. A variety of health related issues can also develop. Jay, a software engineer in San Francisco suffered a broken foot along the way. “Probably a stress fracture from all the walking,” he said.

Jay’s enthusiasm for the adventure and also his trim body made me a little envious. Although I’m somewhat past my “best before” time in life, the spirit is still willing. I rather doubt I could persuade Linda, but the Pacific Crest Trail does appeal.

Baseball and Politics

 

Parliament on Ottawa River
Parliament on Ottawa River

There is a common thread running through both professional baseball and party politics in Canada. When an umpire calls the last “out!” in the 2015 World Series, the players will pick up their fat paycheques, retrieve their golf clubs and head to the links. The disciplined ones will continue their conditioning regime. At the management level, there will be frenzied preparation for the next season of ball. The fans, having cheered until they are hoarse, will go home and focus on other interests until the umpires again call, “play ball.”

When the current federal election campaign has run its course, the voters, like the baseball fans, will also resume other pursuits. Having voted, we believe those we have elected will now carry out their duties with an acceptable degree of diligence, having in mind what is best for citizens and the nation. We need to understand though, that the serious politicians, whether winners or losers, will now begin planning and strategizing to win the next election.

Just as for players, managers and owners, baseball is about winning, for career politicians, politics is also about winning. Many of their decisions will likely have little to do with good governance. We should not forget that over the past four years, the political parties have been engaged in an aggressive, perpetual “dog fight,” seeking to score political points.

In baseball it’s not a problem that fans are inactive in the off season. In politics though, when the people are not involved between elections, there is a significant down side. As citizens, we are stakeholders in our nation. If we are not attentive, we may one day understand to our chagrin, politics is often more about achieving and maintaining power than governing prudently.

In contending this, I certainly do not mean to slam the many fine individuals running for election. Recently I attended a local all-candidates meeting and concluded each is a reputable person with honourable intentions. If the party hierarchy listened more frequently to our representatives, we would almost certainly have a superior form of government.

In our country, as in every country around the globe, there are ambitious individuals aggressively grasping for the levers of government, whatever its form. And those holding the levers cling to them tenaciously, doing whatever is necessary to thwart rivals. Too often this results in decisions designed to gain favour with multi-national corporations, or with particular elements of the electorate, not to provide sound governance.

This dynamic has prevailed throughout history. The decline and fall of the Roman Empire is one of the most thoroughly documented cases of often mutually destructive struggles between ambitious individuals, sapping the vitality of a nation and in time contributing to its down fall. In “How Rome Fell: Death of a Super Power”, Adrian K Goldsworthy says, “there was never a shortage of men wanting to be Emperor. Being killed by a rival remained the most frequent cause of death of Emperors.”

At times powerful army commanders challenged the Emperor. If the challenge was successful, the usurper usually had the Emperor killed. Goldsworthy states further, “senior officials regularly arranged for the disgrace and even death of colleagues. Personal survival and success were the foremost goals of most officials.” By the third century of the Empire’s existence, Emperors and their administrations were thinking less of the good of the Empire than their own survival. It was not a recipe for efficiency.

Goldsworthy sees parallels in our time and suggests “perhaps we should expect more from our political leaders. If they do not set an example by placing the wider good above personal or party interests, it is most unlikely anyone else will behave any better. A greater willingness to take genuine responsibility would be a good place to start.”

Although Canadian political experience is considerably more civilized than that of the Roman empire, the grasping for power is uncomfortably real. For this reason, it is essential we encourage all politicians to work first for the good of Canada and its citizens, not for party advantage. After this election we need to continue asking questions and demanding substantive answers of those elected to represent us. Unlike the game of baseball, politics does impact us, our children and our grandchildren. We can play a part in the well being of this great country.

A small town perspective on people, community, politics and environment.