Editorially speaking...
A reluctant latecomer to social media, as I’ve admitted before, I’ve come to recognize its outstanding potential as a conduit for feedback from readers.
I can burn the midnight oil, researching, writing and polishing posts for the Chronicles, then my graphics guru Patricia hits the send button and—poof!—they’re in your morning mailbox.
But there, for the most part, it ends. I seldom hear a yea or a nay or even a maybe from subscribers. (I’m trying to make a point, folks, not whining.) C’est la vie.
But my site on Facebook (T.W. Paterson History Author), my social media vehicle of choice so far, is a day-and-night difference. Slap up a photo, throw in a brief caption, and the result can be a small scale tsunami of readers’ comments. Hardly viral but surprisingly popular and often far afield.
Instead of offering eye candy, post a photo with some real information—meat on the bone, substance—of interest and you can reach people on an emotional and intellectual level, not just superficially. In all my years of writing, by now the greater part of my life, I’ve never experienced such a connection with my readers.
Some comments—many of them, in fact—are thoughtful, sometimes touching, and add more to the conversation for the benefit of all who see the original photo post. In turn, their comments often lead to more comments, more insights.
This, in my mind, is when social media is at its best and, for me, often inspirational, as one post, one idea leads to another and another, like rolling a snowball down a hill. Sharing information instead of using—abusing—our incredible technology as a mere toy.
A good example is this recent post on Walter Hogg which touched home with some readers:
Those of us who don’t work in the woods have no real idea of the dangers that lurk there. Should you doubt that, just check the statistics.
The recent death of a young woman firefighter by a falling branch reminded me of Walter Hogg. Of Nanaimo. 25, and married just a year, he was fatally injured June 18, 1943, while working as a faller just south of Lake Cowichan.
He was struck in the head by a falling snag known as a widow-maker and he died in the Duncan hospital the next day.
His widow Violet never remarried.
The accompanying photos show Walter at work and his memorial brick in Forest Workers’ Memorial Park, Lake Cowichan.
Following are some of the comments this post elicited. I’ve lightly edited spelling and grammatical errors which otherwise distract a reader from the sentiments being expressed.
Anne Wilde
Thanks for sharing this piece of history. True, the woods are not the safest place to work. Many lives are lost or changed forever in logging accidents and forest fires.
Dawn Susan
Thank you for sharing this. I grew up in Port Alberni when it was a thriving Mill town. There were the Bush crews and the Mill crews.
I remember something like this happening to my long time school friend’s Dad. We were in high school.
Maureen Cain
So very true. My uncle was a logger as was his family. We heard a few instances over the years of those who lost their lives. R.I.P.
Neill Mcqueen
Sane thing happened to my great, great grandfather, back in the 1800’s.
Corrie Kilner
Thank you.
David Coleman
My father was also killed in logging, at Cowichan bay, in 1963.
Julie Ferguson
David Coleman, I remember your dad. I wasn’t very old when he died. He was such a nice guy and my Godfather, Uncle Marsh, I named my son after him and my Mom’s family
David Coleman
Julie Ferguson – Hi, Julie, thank-you for for telling me that Godfrey was my stepfather. Our dads were best friends.
Julie Ferguson
David Coleman - I remember sitting on your dad’s lap at our house listening to his laugh.
David Coleman
I remember going to your house, I can still picture it, fond memories.
V.E. Spies
I know exactly how dangerous the woods are as my Dad died the same way as this guy, in Quesnel in 1963. He had 4 little girls, 6, 5, 3 & 18 months when he died.
Penny Dreadful
My father and many other family members were loggers. Early BC Loggers. My Dad's best friend was killed by a widow maker/pecker pole while the two of them were out logging together. Both were veteran loggers by then. Extremely dangerous job.
And this one, unsigned
Rest peacefully Walter Hogg.