(This is I think my favorite column. It was written in October, 1992. When I read it today I can't remember all the issues that inspired it 15 years ago. I know Grand Bay had a new town council that seemed to get along after years of a previous council that did nothing but fight among themselves. I also know there was an issue over a town sign in both French and English but I can't remember the details. And I have no idea what the reference to a fox is all about. Either way it still reads like a fairy tale and I like it. Hope you do too)
The old man is standing on top of the hill, looking down at the Grand River and the forested valley that is his home. A tear runs down the old mans cheek. He is weeping for his town. The darkness has returned to the Bay folk.
In ancient times the Bay folk were ruled, as they still are, by the Grand Council. These wise men were elected to rule the land and keep the Bay folk safe. But this Grand Council turned out to be not so wise. They argued and fought among themselves. The needs of the Bay folk were forgotten. Eventually the Grand Council of the town of Bay in the land of New Brun became a laughing stock. The good New Brun people couldn't believe that members of the Grand Council would fight among themselves. Soon the New Brun people wanted nothing to do
with the poor Bay Folk. The laughing and humiliation continued for many years until the Day of Reckoning. On that day all the Grand Councilors of the Bay, who turned out to be not very wise, were thrown out and replaced by a new Council. The Bay folk rejoiced. Surely these new Grand Councilors, both men and women, would stop the fighting and deliver them from the darkness. They did and the darkness was lifted. Once again the birds sang in the forests, the fish returned to the Grand River and the Bay folk were happy.
The old man wipes his eyes, now full of tears as he weeps openly for his community. The fighting has returned and with it the darkness. You see the wise members of the new Grand Council decided in their wisdom to put up a big sign on the road welcoming all who come to the Bay. They wanted the sign to be written in both the languages spoken in the land of New Brun, so all would feel welcome. But a group of Bay merchants, led by Borm the town crier wanted the sign written in only one language, the one spoken by most of the Bay folk.
The Grandest of the Grand Councilors, the leader Fen disagreed with Borm and the others. Soon news of the dispute over the sign spread throughout the land. And the good people of Nouveau Brun laughed at the foolishness of it all. Once again the Bay folk were the laughing stock of the land. (And to make matters even worse, the Fox's were on the run again in the Bay and try as they might, the Grand Council couldn't control them.)
The old man wiped away his tears and headed down the hill. "Why must it always be like this?" he sighed. "Why can't we all get along?"
The old man walked home slowly, in sadness and shame.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Disability and Accessibility
(Here's another old column I found and dusted off from September 1992. The funny thing about going through these old Ramblers is once I read them I can actually remember writing them even it if was 15 years ago. I also find I feel much the same today about the things I wrote about as I did back then. This column is no exception.
It goes back to the days before amalgamation and when Grand Bay had its own police force. The names are familiar and so are the problems. I miss those regular wheelchair basketball games. They did create a needed awareness. I assume accessibility is better today than it was 15 years ago. I sure hope it is.)
I had three experiences recently that forced me to open my eyes and look at things differently. So often we go about our lives with blinders on until something happens that makes us stop and think and hopefully see. What I saw and experienced helped change my perception of what it means to be disabled.
It started with a visit to a friend at the Regional Hospital who was about to have some repair work done on his artificial knee. His old one just wore out and needed replacing. He was confident the surgery would be successful. Later that day, as I went for my usual run I thought about my friend laid up in the hospital. I felt fortunate because my knees still allowed me to jog and do whatever else I wanted. I felt sorry for my friend. But then I remembered the time he took me exploring in a cave. I was the one having trouble getting around down there, not him. He's the one always anxious to go hiking and canoeing. I realized my friend doesn't let an artificial knee get in the way of his enjoyment of life.
A few days after that hospital visit, I found myself in a wheelchair. I was a player in the 3rd Annual Wheelchair Basketball Game at Westfield school. As usual the team from Grand Bay/Westfield took a beating from the Saint John Maverick's Wheelchair Basketball Team. There were plenty of laughs as our team members awkwardly tried to play the game sitting in a wheelchair. Westfield councilor Allen Day had trouble staying in his. He kept flipping it over on himself.
Norm Adams of the Grand Bay Police couldn't quite figure out how to dribble the ball and drive the chair at the same time. As for me, I'm useless at basketball standing on two feet, let alone in a wheelchair. But we all had fun trying. And it opened my eyes again.
Peter Brooker, one of the organizers of the game, wanted to show everyone there, players and spectators, that being disabled does not mean the end of one's life. The disabled can participate in any community activity as long as the barriers are removed. "Access is a right. It's not a privilege." says Peter, "Once people and politicians realize that, then we might eventually have a barrier free society." Peter is happy to see more ramps and elevators for the disabled being installed in the Grand Bay/Westfield area. But of course, much more needs to be done.
That same week I experienced another eye opener in the form of an obituary notice in the newspaper. The headlines read Hollywood actor Anthony Perkins dies of AIDS. Anthony Perkins, if you don't know became famous by playing the murderous Norman Bates in Alfred
Hitchcock's film Psycho. Normally I would have just glanced at the article and turned the page. But something caught my attention and held it. Perkins released a statement just before his death. This is what he said: "There are many who believe that this disease is God's vengeance but I believe it was sent to teach people how to love and understand and have compassion for each other. I have learned more about love, selflessness and human understanding from the people I have met in this great adventure in the world of AIDS than I ever did in the cut-throat, competitive world in which I spent my life."
Surely living with a disease like AIDS has to be one of the most disabling experiences one could have. And yet Anthony Perkins faced it with courage. He didn't let the disease rob him of his humanity and he actually grew as a person by the experience.
My eyes have opened a little. I still have a lot to learn.
It goes back to the days before amalgamation and when Grand Bay had its own police force. The names are familiar and so are the problems. I miss those regular wheelchair basketball games. They did create a needed awareness. I assume accessibility is better today than it was 15 years ago. I sure hope it is.)
I had three experiences recently that forced me to open my eyes and look at things differently. So often we go about our lives with blinders on until something happens that makes us stop and think and hopefully see. What I saw and experienced helped change my perception of what it means to be disabled.
It started with a visit to a friend at the Regional Hospital who was about to have some repair work done on his artificial knee. His old one just wore out and needed replacing. He was confident the surgery would be successful. Later that day, as I went for my usual run I thought about my friend laid up in the hospital. I felt fortunate because my knees still allowed me to jog and do whatever else I wanted. I felt sorry for my friend. But then I remembered the time he took me exploring in a cave. I was the one having trouble getting around down there, not him. He's the one always anxious to go hiking and canoeing. I realized my friend doesn't let an artificial knee get in the way of his enjoyment of life.
A few days after that hospital visit, I found myself in a wheelchair. I was a player in the 3rd Annual Wheelchair Basketball Game at Westfield school. As usual the team from Grand Bay/Westfield took a beating from the Saint John Maverick's Wheelchair Basketball Team. There were plenty of laughs as our team members awkwardly tried to play the game sitting in a wheelchair. Westfield councilor Allen Day had trouble staying in his. He kept flipping it over on himself.
Norm Adams of the Grand Bay Police couldn't quite figure out how to dribble the ball and drive the chair at the same time. As for me, I'm useless at basketball standing on two feet, let alone in a wheelchair. But we all had fun trying. And it opened my eyes again.
Peter Brooker, one of the organizers of the game, wanted to show everyone there, players and spectators, that being disabled does not mean the end of one's life. The disabled can participate in any community activity as long as the barriers are removed. "Access is a right. It's not a privilege." says Peter, "Once people and politicians realize that, then we might eventually have a barrier free society." Peter is happy to see more ramps and elevators for the disabled being installed in the Grand Bay/Westfield area. But of course, much more needs to be done.
That same week I experienced another eye opener in the form of an obituary notice in the newspaper. The headlines read Hollywood actor Anthony Perkins dies of AIDS. Anthony Perkins, if you don't know became famous by playing the murderous Norman Bates in Alfred
Hitchcock's film Psycho. Normally I would have just glanced at the article and turned the page. But something caught my attention and held it. Perkins released a statement just before his death. This is what he said: "There are many who believe that this disease is God's vengeance but I believe it was sent to teach people how to love and understand and have compassion for each other. I have learned more about love, selflessness and human understanding from the people I have met in this great adventure in the world of AIDS than I ever did in the cut-throat, competitive world in which I spent my life."
Surely living with a disease like AIDS has to be one of the most disabling experiences one could have. And yet Anthony Perkins faced it with courage. He didn't let the disease rob him of his humanity and he actually grew as a person by the experience.
My eyes have opened a little. I still have a lot to learn.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Remembering Horse Farming Days
(Here's another Retro-Rambler from September of 1992. Bill Lennan was organizing his third Horse Farming Days event on his farm at Carters Point. He did it for a number of years back in the 90's to introduce people to horse farming and raise some money for the IWK Hospital. They were always enjoyable events, something you could bring the entire family to. I miss them.)Dot stares at me with her big brown eyes as I rub her nose. Jim snorts to get my attention because he wants his nose rubbed too. Jim and Dot are horses, big muscular work horses, a mixture of Belgium and Percheon. They're the kind of draft horses farmers depended on to get
the work done in days gone by. On the last weekend of September you'll have a chance to see Jim and Dot and over ten other teams of work horses at the 3rd Annual River Valley Horse Farming Days.
"We got some potatoes to dig and plowing to do, oats to thrash and some more to cut." says Bill Lennan with a big grin. He's the organizer of this weekend long demonstration of the way farming with horses used to be. The event takes place on his farm at Carters Point on the Kingston Peninsula. Last year over 300 people showed up to watch the teams plow up four acres of field on a hill overlooking the St. John River. They came from all over southern New Brunswick and even Nova Scotia.
This year in addition to the plowing Bill's going to dig potatoes with some old horse drawn potato diggers. The thrashing machines will be back and the old "Make and Break" engines used to power them. There'll be an old fashioned binder there to cut and wrap the grain. Bill also hopes to have a blacksmith working on site and have a demonstration of an old cider press. "I'd like to get some entertainment, some music this year. Maybe get some square dancers in if I can get a floor built in time. They'd kinda trip on the grass wouldn't they?" Bill asks with a smile. The only thing he knows for sure is the horses will be there. Draft horse owners from all over the area come because it's one of the few opportunities they have to work their animals and show people what horses can do. It's a celebration of simpler times, the way farming was done in the days before tractors.
"The first tractor came to this settlement of Carters Point in 1939 so up until then it was all done by horse. Even in the 40's dad plowed a lot with his horses. The haying was all done with the horses for a long time after that. The first tractor we got here on this place was in 1953." says Bill.
He doesn't work the family farm anymore. But Bill still has his horses Dot and Jim and he still enjoys hitching them up to the plow. He can't explain why he loves it so much or why he goes to all the trouble of holding this event every year. "It is ridiculous when you think about it." says Bill. "Work myself pretty well to death getting ready, worry and fret and you always forget something. But you look forward to it. Each year when it's over you start making plans for the next year."
The 3rd Annual River Valley Horse Farming Days is on Saturday and Sunday from about 10 am to 5 pm both days. Admission is free and there's a canteen and washroom facilities on the site. Bill's farm is just 3.5 miles above the Westfield Ferry, past Crystal Beach. He'll have a sign on the highway pointing out his farm. Just follow the road past the house and down to the river. Jim and Dot will be waiting for you.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Ya Hoo's on the Road
(Here's another column from the summer of 1992. My sense is that careless driving isn't as big a problem now as it was back then, especially among young people. But then again, the New Brunswick RCMP recently released statistics on the number of traffic deaths in the province and how most fatalities are the result of people not wearing seat belts or the improper use of t seat belts. This problem is more serious among young people despite all the warnings about seatbelt use. So either way this column is just as relevant today as it was 15 years ago.)
The wife of TV's Mr. Dressup didn't know it was coming. The car drove right up on the sidewalk where she was walking in downtown Toronto, pinned her against a store front and killed her. The same thing happened to a pro football player in the United States recently. He was working at home in the garden when a truck ran him down and killed him in his front yard. And then there was that terrible school bus accident that killed a young girl in Chatham while her mother watched from the house. Freak accidents? Yes, but they're happening more and more and one begins to wonder how safe we are anywhere, especially as pedestrians.
There are few sidewalks in Grand Bay or Westfield. That means if we're going to walk or jog or ride our bikes we have to do most of it on the road. Every time our kids go out the door they're sharing road space with the cars and trucks. It's a workable situation if everyone, drivers and walkers, follow the rules, but that doesn't happen all the time.
I'm a runner and I often jog through the streets of Grand Bay. One of the greatest threats to pedestrian safety I see are these creatures I choose to call the "Ya Hoo's". They're usually in their teens or twenties and are normally nice enough creatures, until they get behind the wheel of a car. Then something happens to them, usually on a Friday or Saturday evening. For some reason they feel compelled to drive fast and carelessly around the streets of our neighbourhood. The "Ya Hoo's" squeal tires and kick up clouds of dust as they wheel at breakneck speeds through our quiet residential streets. On a recent Saturday night jog I witnessed one speeding car load of "Ya Hoos" barely negotiate the curve at the bottom of Woolastook Drive. On another occasion a car load of drunken "Ya Hoo's", in a hurry to get to the party, passed me on a curve just as we got off the Westfield ferry at Hardings Point.
I understand the urge of the "Ya Hoo" to want to drive fast. I think it has something to do with hormones at that age. But whatever the cause, driving fast and recklessly on the same streets where people are walking and jogging and kids are playing is bad business. Someone is going to get hurt or killed if the "Ya Hoos" continue to play their deadly game.
If you're a motorist (Ya Hoo's included) there are a few simple things you can do to help keep our residential streets safe. Slow down. Drive the speed limit or below. Those could be your kids playing on the street. And when you pass by a pedestrian give them as wide a berth as possible. I think some drivers make a game of trying to drive as close to pedestrians as possible without knocking them down.
Pedestrians have responsibilities too. Chief Arnold Landers of the Grand Bay Police says there are important rules to be followed, like walking in single file on the left hand shoulder of the road, facing the oncoming traffic. Groups of walkers, (especially kids) should remember to keep to the side of the road. Drivers find it annoying negotiating their way through a group of kids walking five abreast who refuse to get out of the way. If you're out walking after dark wear something light and preferably reflective so the cars can see you. And if you're a cyclist, make sure you follow the rules of the road and wear a helmet.
It is possible to keep our streets safe. But we all have to do our part.
The wife of TV's Mr. Dressup didn't know it was coming. The car drove right up on the sidewalk where she was walking in downtown Toronto, pinned her against a store front and killed her. The same thing happened to a pro football player in the United States recently. He was working at home in the garden when a truck ran him down and killed him in his front yard. And then there was that terrible school bus accident that killed a young girl in Chatham while her mother watched from the house. Freak accidents? Yes, but they're happening more and more and one begins to wonder how safe we are anywhere, especially as pedestrians.
There are few sidewalks in Grand Bay or Westfield. That means if we're going to walk or jog or ride our bikes we have to do most of it on the road. Every time our kids go out the door they're sharing road space with the cars and trucks. It's a workable situation if everyone, drivers and walkers, follow the rules, but that doesn't happen all the time.
I'm a runner and I often jog through the streets of Grand Bay. One of the greatest threats to pedestrian safety I see are these creatures I choose to call the "Ya Hoo's". They're usually in their teens or twenties and are normally nice enough creatures, until they get behind the wheel of a car. Then something happens to them, usually on a Friday or Saturday evening. For some reason they feel compelled to drive fast and carelessly around the streets of our neighbourhood. The "Ya Hoo's" squeal tires and kick up clouds of dust as they wheel at breakneck speeds through our quiet residential streets. On a recent Saturday night jog I witnessed one speeding car load of "Ya Hoos" barely negotiate the curve at the bottom of Woolastook Drive. On another occasion a car load of drunken "Ya Hoo's", in a hurry to get to the party, passed me on a curve just as we got off the Westfield ferry at Hardings Point.
I understand the urge of the "Ya Hoo" to want to drive fast. I think it has something to do with hormones at that age. But whatever the cause, driving fast and recklessly on the same streets where people are walking and jogging and kids are playing is bad business. Someone is going to get hurt or killed if the "Ya Hoos" continue to play their deadly game.
If you're a motorist (Ya Hoo's included) there are a few simple things you can do to help keep our residential streets safe. Slow down. Drive the speed limit or below. Those could be your kids playing on the street. And when you pass by a pedestrian give them as wide a berth as possible. I think some drivers make a game of trying to drive as close to pedestrians as possible without knocking them down.
Pedestrians have responsibilities too. Chief Arnold Landers of the Grand Bay Police says there are important rules to be followed, like walking in single file on the left hand shoulder of the road, facing the oncoming traffic. Groups of walkers, (especially kids) should remember to keep to the side of the road. Drivers find it annoying negotiating their way through a group of kids walking five abreast who refuse to get out of the way. If you're out walking after dark wear something light and preferably reflective so the cars can see you. And if you're a cyclist, make sure you follow the rules of the road and wear a helmet.
It is possible to keep our streets safe. But we all have to do our part.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Historical Westfield
(Here's another column from the summer of 1992. It's about a summer project collecting the history of Westfield back in the days when there was a separate Village called Westfield. I don't know if Susanne ever got that book together. I do know that history is being made this weekend in Grand Bay-Westfield with the opening of the new River Centre at Brundage Point. Hope you plan to take in the activities.)
Susanne Sutton, like other university students, is doing some traveling this summer. But her traveling is taking her back in time. She's riding on the memories of others, back to the early days of her community. Susanne is the official historical researcher for the Village of Westfield. This is the first time the village has ever hired anyone to research it's rich heritage. And it's turned out to be a great summer job for Susanne.
"It's a very humbling experience because I've been living here for 20 years and I thought I knew quite a bit about the village but I don't know anything." says Susanne. "What I know is a drop in the bucket.
It's that desire to know more and that natural curiosity that makes her perfect for this job. Susanne has always been interested in history and heritage. In high school she wrote a short history of the village as part of an exchange program. This summer she's building on that early interest with her job as historical researcher. Susanne is busy meeting residents and recording their personal stories and memories on audio tape. She's also collecting old photographs and
other objects of historical significance. Right now all her time is consumed by just gathering this material. She'd like to compile it into a written report or book but doesn't think she'll have the time this summer.
"I feel like it's my baby now." Susanne says with a smile, hoping that a way will be found for her to finish what she started this summer.
Susanne knows about the official, recorded history of the village. Indians inhabited the area first followed by French traders and then the Loyalists arrived. The very first Loyalist settler was Henry Nase of New York. Others soon followed like John Coffin who was a General in the British army and a member of the Legislative Assembly. The Parish of Westfield was established in 1786.
But it's the personal history that Susanne enjoys the most. There are few written records so Susanne depends on the stories and memories of residents, passed on by word of mouth. By far the biggest story in the villages past is the great fire of 1921. Everything in Westfield is dated pre or post fire. It covered a huge area from Ononette to way up the Nerepis. A few people have their own memories of the fire but many others know of it only through their own family stories. Some people even have mementos, like the woman who cherishes a side board that was saved from the flames by being thrown in a marsh.
Susanne has also collected a lot of information about the Maple Inn. This place has special memories for many people in Westfield. It was an old fashioned Inn overlooking the Nerepis. Isabel Norman owned and operated it and she had guests who stayed every summer as well as
boarders. The Maple Inn closed in the late 1950's. In her research, Susanne has come to know the people involved. She has many old photographs of the place and the people. History has come alive for her.
Some of the best stories Susanne hears she can't use. "People say if you turn off the tape recorder I'll tell you a real good one." Susanne says laughing. "I love those stories but I'm not including them because people have asked me not to."
This summer job has taken over Susanne Sutton's life. She lives here so she's immersed in it all the time. Susanne looks at her village differently now. She sees old buildings and knows something about their past. She can see things that others can't because she's aware of what used to be. "The more you find out," she concludes, "The more you realize there is to find out."
Susanne Sutton, like other university students, is doing some traveling this summer. But her traveling is taking her back in time. She's riding on the memories of others, back to the early days of her community. Susanne is the official historical researcher for the Village of Westfield. This is the first time the village has ever hired anyone to research it's rich heritage. And it's turned out to be a great summer job for Susanne.
"It's a very humbling experience because I've been living here for 20 years and I thought I knew quite a bit about the village but I don't know anything." says Susanne. "What I know is a drop in the bucket.
It's that desire to know more and that natural curiosity that makes her perfect for this job. Susanne has always been interested in history and heritage. In high school she wrote a short history of the village as part of an exchange program. This summer she's building on that early interest with her job as historical researcher. Susanne is busy meeting residents and recording their personal stories and memories on audio tape. She's also collecting old photographs and
other objects of historical significance. Right now all her time is consumed by just gathering this material. She'd like to compile it into a written report or book but doesn't think she'll have the time this summer.
"I feel like it's my baby now." Susanne says with a smile, hoping that a way will be found for her to finish what she started this summer.
Susanne knows about the official, recorded history of the village. Indians inhabited the area first followed by French traders and then the Loyalists arrived. The very first Loyalist settler was Henry Nase of New York. Others soon followed like John Coffin who was a General in the British army and a member of the Legislative Assembly. The Parish of Westfield was established in 1786.
But it's the personal history that Susanne enjoys the most. There are few written records so Susanne depends on the stories and memories of residents, passed on by word of mouth. By far the biggest story in the villages past is the great fire of 1921. Everything in Westfield is dated pre or post fire. It covered a huge area from Ononette to way up the Nerepis. A few people have their own memories of the fire but many others know of it only through their own family stories. Some people even have mementos, like the woman who cherishes a side board that was saved from the flames by being thrown in a marsh.
Susanne has also collected a lot of information about the Maple Inn. This place has special memories for many people in Westfield. It was an old fashioned Inn overlooking the Nerepis. Isabel Norman owned and operated it and she had guests who stayed every summer as well as
boarders. The Maple Inn closed in the late 1950's. In her research, Susanne has come to know the people involved. She has many old photographs of the place and the people. History has come alive for her.
Some of the best stories Susanne hears she can't use. "People say if you turn off the tape recorder I'll tell you a real good one." Susanne says laughing. "I love those stories but I'm not including them because people have asked me not to."
This summer job has taken over Susanne Sutton's life. She lives here so she's immersed in it all the time. Susanne looks at her village differently now. She sees old buildings and knows something about their past. She can see things that others can't because she's aware of what used to be. "The more you find out," she concludes, "The more you realize there is to find out."
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Little Boys, Summer and Frogs
(Here's another retro-column from the summer of 1992. My son Brendan mentioned here was a little boy then and is now an adult. Where has the time gone?)
Little boys, summer and frogs go together. If there's a pond, there are usually frogs in it and boys on the bank trying to catch them. I have an eight year old named Brendan who is frog crazy. It started early in the summer when Brendan discovered a tadpole gold mine in the ditch running the length of the field at River Valley Junior High School. Tadpoles of course turn into frogs and then little boys turn into froggers.
One of Brendan's early frogging expeditions was a walk through a bog on the Kingston Peninsula with members of the Saint John Naturalist's Club. While everyone else was searching for bog plants, Brendan kept an alert eye out for frogs and he caught two. Don McAlpine, a Grand Bay resident and a zoologist at the New Brunswick Museum was on the hike that day and gave Brendan some helpful pointers on the care and handling of frogs. Don knows all about them. He's the eastern Canadian co-ordinator of the International Declining Amphibians Task Force. This group is concerned about the dropping populations of frogs worldwide. In some places they've become extinct. Don patiently explained to Brendan how to carefully hold a frog, how they need clean water and most important of all, how the bog is their home and the place they should stay. Brendan let his frogs go and came home happy for the experience.
A few days after the bog walk Brendan visited a small pond up the hill from our house in Grand Bay. He found plenty of frogs there. They were dead, lying on their backs in the mud with holes in their bodies. Some had been mangled and squashed. Brendan and his friends did manage to catch five live frogs that day although they appeared to be injured too. The kids brought them home and put them in a wading pool in the back yard. Unfortunately, a few hours later, four of the frogs were dead, either from the sun or from their injuries. Brendan and his friends felt bad.
When the kids returned the one remaining live frog to the pond they discovered why the frogs were dying. Two neighbourhood boys, nine or ten years old and armed with a pellet rifle, were at the pond shooting frogs indiscriminately. They wounded some and killed others. They must have been at it for a long time judging by the carnage on the shore and the number of injured frogs.
"It's hard to believe how in this day and age, with so much talk about environmental issues and preserving wildlife, that kids would do such a thing." Don McAlpine says sadly. "It underlines how much more needs to be done."
This was a senseless slaughter of wildlife. But I think Brendan and his friends learned something from it. Brendan says he won't bring frogs home anymore because he doesn't want them to die. He'll still catch them but he won't take them away from the pond. He'll look at them and then release them. And if he does, chances are other boys in other summers will also have frogs to catch and enjoy.
Little boys, summer and frogs go together. If there's a pond, there are usually frogs in it and boys on the bank trying to catch them. I have an eight year old named Brendan who is frog crazy. It started early in the summer when Brendan discovered a tadpole gold mine in the ditch running the length of the field at River Valley Junior High School. Tadpoles of course turn into frogs and then little boys turn into froggers.
One of Brendan's early frogging expeditions was a walk through a bog on the Kingston Peninsula with members of the Saint John Naturalist's Club. While everyone else was searching for bog plants, Brendan kept an alert eye out for frogs and he caught two. Don McAlpine, a Grand Bay resident and a zoologist at the New Brunswick Museum was on the hike that day and gave Brendan some helpful pointers on the care and handling of frogs. Don knows all about them. He's the eastern Canadian co-ordinator of the International Declining Amphibians Task Force. This group is concerned about the dropping populations of frogs worldwide. In some places they've become extinct. Don patiently explained to Brendan how to carefully hold a frog, how they need clean water and most important of all, how the bog is their home and the place they should stay. Brendan let his frogs go and came home happy for the experience.
A few days after the bog walk Brendan visited a small pond up the hill from our house in Grand Bay. He found plenty of frogs there. They were dead, lying on their backs in the mud with holes in their bodies. Some had been mangled and squashed. Brendan and his friends did manage to catch five live frogs that day although they appeared to be injured too. The kids brought them home and put them in a wading pool in the back yard. Unfortunately, a few hours later, four of the frogs were dead, either from the sun or from their injuries. Brendan and his friends felt bad.
When the kids returned the one remaining live frog to the pond they discovered why the frogs were dying. Two neighbourhood boys, nine or ten years old and armed with a pellet rifle, were at the pond shooting frogs indiscriminately. They wounded some and killed others. They must have been at it for a long time judging by the carnage on the shore and the number of injured frogs.
"It's hard to believe how in this day and age, with so much talk about environmental issues and preserving wildlife, that kids would do such a thing." Don McAlpine says sadly. "It underlines how much more needs to be done."
This was a senseless slaughter of wildlife. But I think Brendan and his friends learned something from it. Brendan says he won't bring frogs home anymore because he doesn't want them to die. He'll still catch them but he won't take them away from the pond. He'll look at them and then release them. And if he does, chances are other boys in other summers will also have frogs to catch and enjoy.
Friday, August 3, 2007
Naturalist's Club Celebrate Anniversary
(This column was first published in the River Valley News in the summer of 1992. I remember spending that Saturday with the club as if it were yesterday. It's hard to believe it was 15 years ago. The Saint John Naturalist's Club is now 45 years old and still going strong and as far as I know, always looking for new members.)
The weather forecast called for showers. Instead the sun shone, bright and hot. Even the mosquitoes stayed away. Ok, some mosquitoes. Mother nature herself seemed to know something special was happening on the Kingston Peninsula that last weekend of June. And it was special. Mother natures soul mates, members of the Saint John Naturalist's Club were having a 30th anniversary party. And they couldn't have picked a better place to celebrate nature.
The tents started going up Thursday at the home of Allen and Janet Gorham on Pancake Hill, just below Crystal Beach. By Saturday there were tents everywhere. It looked like a mini Woodstock Festival. Close to 70 members of the Naturalist's Club made the trek to the Gorham's that weekend. Some came from as far away as Sussex. Others just canoed across the river from their home in Westfield. It was a powerful gathering of like minded people, according to Linda Caron, the president of the club and a resident of Grand Bay. "We all needed to spend some time together as a group." says Linda, "And for more then just the hour we spend at our regular meetings."
Janet Gorham, the former president of the club, invited the group to her home for this 30th anniversary party. She wanted this to be a special celebration. The Saint John Naturalist's Club was started back in 1962 by David Christie. On Saturday night he was the guest of honour at an anniversary supper consisting of among other things, beans. But not just any pork and beans. This old fashioned treat cooked all night in a big iron bean pot, buried on the beach in the embers of Friday nights fire. After the bean feast, awards were handed out and all members enjoyed a slice of anniversary cake decorated with yellow lady slippers, the new symbol for the club. Mitzi Withers of Bayswater designed a club pin depicting the yellow lady slipper in honour of Tom Page, a recently deceased member. The new pins arrived just in time for the anniversary weekend.
It wasn't all eating and meeting. The naturalists got out and explored nature too. Saturday morning saw the group hike to a bog on the peninsula. They call it Allen Gorham's bog. He's been coming here for 44 years and he says it hasn't changed a bit. Birder Jim Wilson led a group of bird watchers through the bog. Botanist Molly Smith did the same with a group of plant lovers. The kids loved finding the insect eating pitcher plants and the round leaf sundews. Frank and Mitzi Withers had a knack for finding last years cranberries and forcing everyone to taste the bitter things. Jocelyn Steeves, the bird house lady of Westfield, kept an eye out for bog birds and Don McAlpine of Grand Bay kept an eye on his kids. One of them disappeared in a sink hole and got soaked up to her arm pits. Even experienced bog hopper Molly Smith had to be rescued from one soggy spot that wanted her boots. Everyone survived the adventure and learned a lot.
There was still time in the day for a swim in the river, a paddle in the canoe and more hiking. Or if you preferred, a little snooze in the tent. Saturday night after supper the party ended with a bonfire on the beach. These naturalists may know about nature but most know very little about music. Anyone listening to their campfire sing song could attest to that. Maybe it was the "Campfire songs of Newfoundland" song sheets they were using? But everyone had a good time. The 30th anniversary party ended with a bang. It was a huge success.
"It's nice hanging around with these people." says president Linda Caron, "There's a lot of energy in this group. You learn a lot." And what better place for a group like the Saint John Naturalist's Club to gather then here in the River Valley, a place of incredible natural beauty. Happy 30th Anniversary.
The weather forecast called for showers. Instead the sun shone, bright and hot. Even the mosquitoes stayed away. Ok, some mosquitoes. Mother nature herself seemed to know something special was happening on the Kingston Peninsula that last weekend of June. And it was special. Mother natures soul mates, members of the Saint John Naturalist's Club were having a 30th anniversary party. And they couldn't have picked a better place to celebrate nature.
The tents started going up Thursday at the home of Allen and Janet Gorham on Pancake Hill, just below Crystal Beach. By Saturday there were tents everywhere. It looked like a mini Woodstock Festival. Close to 70 members of the Naturalist's Club made the trek to the Gorham's that weekend. Some came from as far away as Sussex. Others just canoed across the river from their home in Westfield. It was a powerful gathering of like minded people, according to Linda Caron, the president of the club and a resident of Grand Bay. "We all needed to spend some time together as a group." says Linda, "And for more then just the hour we spend at our regular meetings."
Janet Gorham, the former president of the club, invited the group to her home for this 30th anniversary party. She wanted this to be a special celebration. The Saint John Naturalist's Club was started back in 1962 by David Christie. On Saturday night he was the guest of honour at an anniversary supper consisting of among other things, beans. But not just any pork and beans. This old fashioned treat cooked all night in a big iron bean pot, buried on the beach in the embers of Friday nights fire. After the bean feast, awards were handed out and all members enjoyed a slice of anniversary cake decorated with yellow lady slippers, the new symbol for the club. Mitzi Withers of Bayswater designed a club pin depicting the yellow lady slipper in honour of Tom Page, a recently deceased member. The new pins arrived just in time for the anniversary weekend.
It wasn't all eating and meeting. The naturalists got out and explored nature too. Saturday morning saw the group hike to a bog on the peninsula. They call it Allen Gorham's bog. He's been coming here for 44 years and he says it hasn't changed a bit. Birder Jim Wilson led a group of bird watchers through the bog. Botanist Molly Smith did the same with a group of plant lovers. The kids loved finding the insect eating pitcher plants and the round leaf sundews. Frank and Mitzi Withers had a knack for finding last years cranberries and forcing everyone to taste the bitter things. Jocelyn Steeves, the bird house lady of Westfield, kept an eye out for bog birds and Don McAlpine of Grand Bay kept an eye on his kids. One of them disappeared in a sink hole and got soaked up to her arm pits. Even experienced bog hopper Molly Smith had to be rescued from one soggy spot that wanted her boots. Everyone survived the adventure and learned a lot.
There was still time in the day for a swim in the river, a paddle in the canoe and more hiking. Or if you preferred, a little snooze in the tent. Saturday night after supper the party ended with a bonfire on the beach. These naturalists may know about nature but most know very little about music. Anyone listening to their campfire sing song could attest to that. Maybe it was the "Campfire songs of Newfoundland" song sheets they were using? But everyone had a good time. The 30th anniversary party ended with a bang. It was a huge success.
"It's nice hanging around with these people." says president Linda Caron, "There's a lot of energy in this group. You learn a lot." And what better place for a group like the Saint John Naturalist's Club to gather then here in the River Valley, a place of incredible natural beauty. Happy 30th Anniversary.
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