I rarely do book reviews here in the Chronicles, but there’s always an exception, and a brand new book (it was released just over a week ago) about Alexander Dunsmuir of the Vancouver Island coal mining dynasty grabbed my interest.
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Hardly had the ink dried on last week’s post about Nostalgia and its references to popular collectibles, than the Victoria Times Colonist reported, Nostalgia, seven-figure sales fuel wave of Pokemon card thefts across Canada.
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You don’t need me to tell you that time and the world around us are in a constant state of change. There’s even a saying to that effect, ‘The only thing constant is....”
Sometimes, however, it isn’t really a change per se, but a matter of degree. In other words, the stories are mostly the same, even when they’re decades apart, only the numbers vary. (Blame it on inflation.)To make my point, and for a change of pace in my weekly meandering, I offer this editorial on what we now know as the Old Age Pension. It appeared in the Vancouver News-Herald in July 1950.
Compare it with your OAP/CPP.
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Well, some good news in the news for a change.
The worst of another devastating summer of wildfires appears to have peaked, and the Fraser Canyon’s historic Alexandra Lodge has come through it, unscathed.
A month ago, it was reported that the recently restored landmark was threatened by a blaze that “came perilously close”.
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Last week I reminisced about some of my more memorable summer vacations as a kid. Ah, the good old days, gone, gone, never to be repeated except in memory, alas...
A friend who read that Chronicle about summertime mischief marvelled that we Saanich kids made it out of childhood alive. Sometimes, as an adult with decades of life’s experiences and realities under my belt, I’ve looked back and wondered myself!
But it wasn’t all mischief and mayhem, as I recalled in this piece that I wrote way back in 2001.
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How I spent my summer vacations(s).
Mark Twain’s legendary Tom Sawyer was a piker compared to us kids.—Wikipedia - Frontispiece ofThe Adventures of Tom Sawyer, 1876, first edition.
Looking back, these too many years after, I have to wonder. Was it really as good then as I remember it? Or have I fallen into that trap of old age, of gilding those memories of summers spent on and about Swan Lake?
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Writing about Derby’s doomed reach for stardom as the capital of the Crown Colony of BC, reminded me of New Westminster’s equally unsuccessful joust with the ultimate winner, Victoria—and one of my favourite historical anecdotes.
I wrote this years ago and it still makes me laugh...
“When I went up the Hooghly 40 years ago...”
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Lest we forget...
On Sunday last I attended the Burma Star memorial service in downtown Charles Hoey Park, site of the Duncan Cenotaph. I and 13 others, all of us members of the local Royal Canadian Legion and/or veterans, with a representative from the City of Duncan on hand to place a wreath.
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If I’ve learned anything along life’s road it’s this: The more I know about the human mind, the less I understand. Everyday, news accounts tell us of decisions and events that defy what most intelligent people would define as plain good judgment. (As one sage put it, “commonsense isn’t common”.
I don’t mean human error based on various levels of mis-comprehension or misunderstanding, but decisions and actions that intentionally go against every measure of commonsense and common decency.
Specifically, vandalism—destruction for the sheer joy of it.
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Well, another year down of sold-out performances for the Mill Bay/Malahat Historical Society’s Seeds and Salt Theatre. This year’s theme was Dreamers & Schemers, composed of three 20-minute-long mini-plays.
As the theatre company’s theme is “Fascinating True Stories From Vancouver Island’s Past,” this year’s performances began with Maj. James Lennox MacFarlane’s dream to create a link by road between Victoria and Mill Bay which, at that time, was accessible only by train and boat as the Malahat’s mountainous game trails all but defied overland traffic.
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Forensic science. It’s everywhere these days, at least entertainment-wise.
Every time I scroll through my social media programs of choice, there they are, crime stories from the past—so-called cold cases—brought to the fore to entertain and to enlighten, often generations later. Not to mention, albeit less frequently, in the news when it’s reported that police have solved a decades-old murder case through the combined magic of DNA and, of all things, popular genealogical websites.
I’m not going to try to explain how this works here, that’s not the point of today’s editorial ramble... I write about history, right? And criminal cases are history, right?
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WHEN INSANITY COULD BE A DEATH SENTENCE
The news is full of them today—stories about homelessness and illegal drugs. These afflictions are often the direct cause of, or the direct result of, mental illness.
How did society deal with insanity in the old days?
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I complained recently about the tedium of filing.
But there can be an upside—finding nuggets in the form of newspaper clippings and viewpoints I’ve expressed in the past, and since forgotten about, that synchronize with what’s happening in the news or just suit my present state of mind.
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I’ve never had the patience for filing.
Almost in spite of myself, my personal archives is probably equal in size to the Cowichan Valley Museum. But the unavoidable filing is such a drag...
On the plus side, when I do give filing the time and attention it deserves—needs—I’m sometimes pleasantly surprised with the nuggets that turn up: newspaper clippings, as a rule, that I’ve forgotten about.
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Some things never change. As sure as summer you have heat, swimming...and tragedy.
In July 1921, it was that of 12-year-old Donald Smith Hawkins, a student of Duncan Public School and the adopted son of James Hawkins, foreman of the James Logging Co., Cottonwood Creek.
While his father worked in camp, Mrs. Hawkins and Donald lived at Tyee Siding; but she was away so, Donald was staying with his dad in a floating shack at Youbou, downstream from Cottonwood Creek on the north shore of Cowichan Lake.
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Home 2, Visitors 0
Our winters are mild but they do tend to drag their heels a little.
But this spring was mild. I can attest to this by the fact that—I have witnesses—the “Luftwaffe” was out as early as mid-February. I did manage to down two of the beggars at South Wellington which, experience has taught me, is home to the biggest, fattest, loudest airborne pests on the Island.
They’re nothing like when I was a lad, of course.
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The results of a study of the differences, perceived and real, between Canadians and pre-Trump Americans were once published in the Victoria Times Colonist. Apparently, we're more alike than we think. Oh, we're more polite, more restrained (I'd like to think, ‘mature’ and ‘refined’). But when it comes down to the nitty gritty the study suggests, heaven forbid, that we're more akin to Americans than we care to admit.
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The results of a study of the differences, perceived and real, between Canadians and pre-Trump Americans were once published in the Victoria Times Colonist. Apparently, we're more alike than we think. Oh, we're more polite, more restrained (I'd like to think, ‘mature’ and ‘refined’). But when it comes down to the nitty gritty the study suggests, heaven forbid, that we're more akin to Americans than we care to admit.
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R.E. Gosnell, pioneer tourist promoter, fired as provincial librarian and archivist, he fought back with sharpened pen.
“One of those tree wheeling, Jack of all trades who made British Columbia colourful at the turn of the century,” to quote one historian, R. Edward Gosnell has been called the father of today's Provincial Library and Archives.
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A sample of TW Paterson’s stories
Old Photographs that have something to say
You see them all the time. At garage sales, flea markets and thrift stores, they stare back at you from over the years.
How do these family photographs, so very personal and, one would think, so meaningful to their owners, find their way to a sales table?
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