Editorially speaking…
There were 12—12—pages in this week’s Times Colonist weekend magazine about a new film telling the story of the famous Cowichan sweater.
I have no problem with that—it’s a wonderful story of an Indigenous craft whose uniqueness has made it legendary.
This wonderful portrait of Cowichan knitter Agnes George was taken by Victoria newspaper photographer Jim Ryan. (I knew Jim, his brother Don and many other leading Victoria photographers when I worked for the Colonist and still believe that Jim was the best of them all.) —BC Archives
But in all of those pages there was no mention of Jeremina Colvin. Just, quote: “Over the years, the sweater, developed through the intermingling of Coast Salish wool-working traditions and European techniques [my italics—TW], has become a fashion statement...”
Other online sources do a bit better by noting that knitting garments with mountain sheep wool, dog hair and other fabrics was a long-established practice of the Salish people. That the first White settlers to arrive in the Cowichan Valley introduced sheep, and the Sisters of St. Ann began to teach basic knitting (“socks and mitts”) to their Indigenous female students.
It was Cobble hill settler Jeremina Colvin, originally of the Shetland Islands and a professional knitter, who introduced them to what’s described as “two-needle and multiple-needle knitting” and greatly influenced development of what we now know as the Cowichan sweater.
All I’m asking for is that Jeremina be recognized for her contribution to what’s become a cultural icon. But, for years now, it’s been apparent that her contribution is being deliberately laundered out of the historical record. I leave it to readers to speculate as why this should be.
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It’s a little late to review Barry Sanford’s book, McCulloch’s Wonder: The Story of the Kettle Valley Railway, as it was first published in 1988 and has gone on to numerous successive printings.
But I finally got around to reading it—and what a story it is of human ingenuity, determination and courage.
The story of railway construction in British Columbia prior to and immediately following the turn of the last century is the story of the human spirit and endeavour writ large. These men—sorry, ladies, but there you are—were giants. Not in stature but in deed. And dreamers all!
There simply was no natural obstruction that daunted them. If they couldn’t go over it or around it they went through it. And they did it all with just human and horse labour. There were no D-8 bulldozers in those days!
If this book isn’t in school libraries, it sure should be.
In fact, it should be part of the curriculum. No student, male or female, could fail to grasp and be intrigued by our history if given a tool such as this. This is drama—better than anything they’ll see on TV or in a movie.
Why? Because it’s all real despite reading almost as fiction, so huge and improbable were the challenges. These pioneers, from railway executives to the heroic surveyors, to the builders and all the way down to the unsung navvies, most of them recent immigrants, who did the real work with their brawn, conquered all.
Julius Caesar and his ilk throughout history were pikers when it came to real conquering heroes such as Andrew McCulloch, this book’s namesake, and those like him. Today’s highway through the Coquilhalla Pass just hints at the railway that preceded it; a stretch of railway that has been termed the most difficult in all of North America, perhaps the world.
Today, 1000s enjoy hiking and cycling the former roadbed of the Kettle Valley Railway. I wonder how many give thought to the fact that it was built not just with brawn but with blood. Or to that sad thought that there are few visionaries among our so-called leaders, political and corporate, any more.
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It’s just a hole now, all but hidden by new growth, but once it was one of Mount Sicker’s three producing copper mines, the King Richard III. A reader wrote last week to ask me how deep is it now. It, and the Tyee, just down the hill, have been filled in for safety reasons, so, to answer, not deep at all. Model Jennifer Goodbrand was in no real danger. —Author’s Collection
Speaking of Mount Sicker, well-known Cowicharn artist Jennifer Lawson emailed to ask if a house on Duncan’s Ypres Street, recently demolished, had a connection to the old mining camp. As it happened, yes, both it and its immediate neighbour having been built of lumber salvaged from “The Hill” as Sicker was known to Duncanites at the height of the mining excitement.
But now both are gone to make way for multiple housing, two more victims of the New Age in the Cowichan Valley and most everywhere else, it seems these days. With help from former Cowichan Valley Museum curator Priscilla Lowe I was able to answer Jennifer’s query.
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Saturday, June 1, Campbell River’s Maritime Heritage Centre will celebrate 20 years “as a hub for educational, social and cultural activities from 11: 00 a.m.-3:00 p.m. A highlight of the event will be a tour of the BC 45, the restored wooden seine fishing vessel that used to grace the back of our $5 bill.
—www.knowbc.com
The seiner is now a Nationally Recognized Historic Monument.
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How’s this for a dramatic shot of Duncan’s Tzouhalem Hotel on the left, the Duncan train station garden (today’s Charles Hoey Park) in the centre, and an oncoming steam locomotive? All with an amazing cloud sky for a background in this great colourization by computer artist Nigel Robertson.