Issuu

THE No. 35

BEACON Shedding light on the communities from Lions Bay to West Bay

July/August 2019

Photo: courtesy of Ian McBeath

Summertime in Eagle Harbour.

A Bear to remember

Joe Gardener

Local Area Plan

Community Personality

Heart and music

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Chris Stringer

Potholes and speedbumps Opinion

Publisher

chrisstringer @westvanbeacon.ca

Lindy Pfeil Editor

lindypfeil @westvanbeacon.ca

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pennymitchell @westvanbeacon.ca

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melissabaker @westvanbeacon.ca Please note that all contributing writers for The Beacon retain full rights and that the full or partial reproduction of feature articles is unauthorized without the consent of the author. Personal opinions, beliefs and viewpoints expressed are solely those of the respective contributors and do not necessarily reflect the opinions, beliefs and viewpoints of the Beacon, the publisher or the editorial and creative staff.

Submissions for The Beacon The Beacon is delivered bi-monthly to 5000+ households between Lions Bay and West Bay. For submission guidelines and queries, please e-mail the Editor: lindypfeil@ westvanbeacon.ca Please note that all submissions are subject to space constraints and editing. For advertising queries, please e-mail the Director of Marketing: pennymitchell@westvanbeacon.ca For all other queries, please e-mail the Publisher: chrisstringer@westvanbeacon.ca All editions of The Beacon (beginning in September 2013), can also be read online at: www.westvanbeacon.ca.

Lindy Pfeil

ohn Steinbeck said, “A journey is like marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to think you control it.” And anytime I dare to think I have things somewhat under control, whoever is really in charge shakes up the little snow globe of my existence. After all this time, the only thing I do know, is that making plans too far into the future is simply asking for trouble. In marriage. And when planning a journey. In the past ten or so years, each time we have tried to arrange a family vacation, something unexpected and not-terribly-nice has happened. Which is peculiar considering that, growing up, road trips were the one thing I could rely on. My father spent hours calculating estimated times of arrival. My mother made egg mayonnaise sandwiches wrapped in wax paper, which we ate at concrete picnic tables on the side of the highway. I remember the smell of coffee in the thermos. Sometimes a tree provided shade. Usually, though, there were only thorns and scrubby bushes. Pitstop complete, we piled back into the car. The aircon pumped my father’s recycled cigar smoke into the back seat for my sister and I to happily inhale. My father always said he didn’t want to be one of those old people who continually talked about his bodily functions and chronic medications. I suppose he got his wish. He was diagnosed with cancer when he was exactly the age I am now – 55. Less than a year later he

The first road trip, KwaZulu-Natal, South Africa, circa 1965.

very different to the ones on Chicago Med. There was no fancy bed on wheels. No shiny equipment lining the walls. No high-tech machinery. Just a cold metal bench and a smudgy steel floor. An oxygen tank was wedged between my mother’s ankles and a box filled with medical supplies rested on her shins. Every time we hit a pothole the box of supplies shifted and mom whimpered. My mother was admitted to the coronary care unit. My sister changed her flight. I drove to and from the hospital and the airport on the wrong side of the road. For the first time in decades my sister and I are sharing a bedroom. Still our mother’s daughters. Older. Not wiser. We maneuver speedbumps, estimating the time and place of arrival, trying to avoid the potholes. We plan, but not too far in the future, because Steinbeck is right: we have no control of this journey. All we can do is breathe as we wait for the snow globe to settle.

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was dead. He and my mother were married for 29 years. Two years later, mom remarried an old friend of my father’s, whose spouse had also died of cancer. They were married for 19 years before he too died six years ago, leaving my mother, once again, a widow. Each time I go back to South Africa, my mother is older. Of course, so am I. But I was taken aback by her frailty when she met me at the airport in Port Elizabeth on my most recent trip home. She is no longer able to drive long distances on her own, so we planned a road trip along the coast. My sister would join us, since both our nests have finally emptied: our first holiday together since childhood. The day before we were due to leave, there came a different kind of road trip. One minute mom was sitting on the off-white armchair in the living room, taking her blood pressure. The next, she was unblinking, unspeaking, undone. And I was completely unprepared. Somehow, an ambulance arrived. It was

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Growing up in Eagle Harbour BY

Jane Iacovello (nee Caldwell)

agle Harbour in the summer brings back some wonderful memories. My family moved here in August 1952. Growing up in the ‘50s, my brother and I pretty much had the run of the place. We hung out with friends on the beach, swimming, boating, climbing rocks and roaming the forests. Nothing else existed for us. It was the greatest place to grow up. How lucky were we!

The cove was overlooked by the boathouse (where the Eagle Harbour Yacht Club is today), the small general store and Charlie Smith’s white house. Charlie, originally from Trindad, owned and ran the boathouse. According to his kids, the family acquired the property through an inheritance. The store is where we picked up mail and bought staples. I remember padding up from the beach to buy French fries at the take-out window. To this day I can smell the frying oil and vinegar. When we were a little older we would row out to buy fresh shrimp off the shrimp boats idling near Passage Island. They cost 25 cents a pound. Boat renters would return from

fishing, with ling cod so big that it would take several people to carry one fish up the ramp. Sometime during the month of August, the Vancouver Sun sponsored the Salmon Derby in Horseshoe Bay. It was an exciting event for Eagle Harbour circa 1955. Photo provided us as the fishermen would bring their boats close to the beach, and stay up to what is now the Seaview Walk. It was overnight to get an early start in the morning. a time when children could leave the house Needless to say, this added to the nocturnal in the morning, and not come home until beadventures of inquisitive fun-loving kids. ing called for dinner. My mother’s call was a Kids roamed freely, even into the night, cow bell. never getting into mischief. We walked to Thank you, Beacon, for this short walk and from school at Gleneagles by climbing down memory lane.

Heart and music BY

Mia Jakobsen Rockridge Secondary student

have been part of the West Vancouver School District Honour Choir Program for four years and have thus participated in many concerts. However, director Suzanne Fulton and pianist Hey-Jung Choi always bring something fresh and passionate to each performance. This year’s year-end concert was particularly unique as all of the repertoire between the Treble and Mixed ensembles were student requests. I’m in the Treble Honour Choir, and our set included a huge range of songs from upbeat musical theatre pieces to heartfelt songs that dealt with loss, love, joy and self-acceptance. We sang the classic lullaby “Over the Rainbow” which featured a violin soloist. The specific ar-

rangement of the song painted a beautiful world where skies were blue and dreams came true. We sang two musical theatre-y pieces, “What is This Feeling” and “Someone in the Crowd.” We added some actions to further narrate the stories, which really captivated the audience. I was lucky enough to be one of the soloists, among two others, in “Someone in the Crowd.” Finally, we sang “Count the Stars,” a tender song of remembrance that combines poignant text and Latin phrases from the Requiem Mass. It was commissioned by a high school student’s classmates to honor his memory after his passing. This was the highlight for me, as earlier in the year at our retreat, a large group of us sat in a circle and talked about the piece’s meaning and our connections to the piece. This song genuinely bonded us as a choir. The finale this year was a commissioned piece for the Treble Honour Choir called

“I want Nana to get out more, but I can’t always be there.”

Photo provided The Treble Honour Choir with Rose Lepin (L) and Mia Jakobsen performing their solos in “Someone in the Crowd.”

“Call Yourself Beautiful.” The composer, Laura Hawley, combined a poem by Amanda Katherine Ricketson with a bold, brave tune that expressed self-acceptance and love. It is an extremely empowering song, and it was an honour to sing it beside other young women.

The songs chosen this year undoubtedly reflected who we are as a choir: dreamers, fun, hopeful, empathetic and brave. The Honour Choir Program is a wonderful and supportive family, and I can’t wait to see what the future holds for us!

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July/August 2019

How’s your emotional air supply? Psyched Out Ian Macpherson

t has been common in pop psych literature to focus on individual assets and praise independence. Nonetheless, the idea that our strengths come mainly from our ability to stand alone is largely a myth. Once upon a time, when I practiced in a children and family clinic, parents would not infrequently drop off their young son or daughter to get ‘fixed.’ Often, the parents would be surprised that they were expected to participate in counselling. Nowadays, injuries in attachment bonds are recognized as being at the centre of many emotional problems. It makes sense, then, that relationships - parental or couple - are key resources for resolving these difficulties. Research has shown us that the most effective therapies,

for example in the case of depression, involve working not so much with the individual as within the context of their most important emotional relationship. A client may ask, “Why can’t I just learn to cope and get over my psychological wounds especially from the distant past?” But that past is always present in the emotional brain. It would be like trying to talk yourself out of the panic when your air supply is cut off. Attachment to a significant other is emotionally lifegiving and a secure bond is like pure oxygen. Brain scans and psychological studies show how positively a good relationship af-

fects us and how abuse and neglect can traumatize us. So what is secure attachment? In couples, for example, does it simply mean we come from similar backgrounds, share the same interests, or find each other physically attractive? Or that we have a good complementary fit? Even if you check all the boxes this way, there is one question above all that needs to be answered. Dr. Sue Johnson, renowned researcher and originator of attachment-based therapy, puts it this way: “Do you really have my back?” In other words, can I believe that you truly know me emotionally at my most vulnerable and can I trust you to

be there for me in those moments? Receiving that depth of compassion, free of judgement and doubt, is to experience being ‘held tight.’ If your parent did not give you this, and your marriage is no better, you can no more simply ignore it and move on, than you can indefinitely hold your breath. But in a couple’s relationship, there is the opportunity for a second chance. You and your partner can learn to feel safe, let go with each other and breathe. Ian Macpherson is a psychologist who lives and practices in West Vancouver. More at www.westvancouvertherapist.com

Arts on the waterfront at the Silk Purse BY

Ann Frost

re you looking for a place to be on a summer’s evening, listening to some of Vancouver’s wonderful jazz musicians, watching the cruise ships departing? Or on a windy winter’s morning with classical music, sail boats scudding past? Look no further than the Silk Purse beside John Lawson Park. Jazz and classical musicians alike praise the Silk Purse as a performance venue and many have said it is their favourite place to perform. And all of this for a membership fee of only $10 and a modest ticket price for all performances. Want to see the latest from local artists? Attend a showing of local art at the Silk Purse. Often two or three artists exhibit together - all selected by a jury pro-

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cess. Opening receptions take place on the first Tuesday night of the month, with wine by donation and gratis appies. The artists themselves are also usually there for a chat. And this year there is something new and exciting: First Thursdays Art Walks are self-guided tours of our local galleries, public art and community spaces. They also provide the opportunity to participate in collaborative art projects. Look for a painting station at any one of the galleries to add your personal mark. If you are planning to attend the Harmony Arts Festival (August 2 – 11), drop in to the Silk Purse for a tranquil retreat from the hustle and bustle. All of this is brought to you by the West Vancouver Community Arts Council. Further information can be found on the website: westvanartscouncil.ca or silkpurse.ca.

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Photo provided The spectacular Silk Purse, located beside John Lawson Park.

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July/August 2019

PAGE 5

A friendship cemented by butter BY

Anne Baird

y freezer contains eight pounds of frozen Lactania Butter. Add the spreadable butter in my butter dish, and the pound of butter in the refrigerator, and that amounts to ten pounds. I live in dread of running out. The only other person I have met with this butter mania is my roommate, Janice Zaharko. She blames it on her Ukrainian heritage. I, on my Dutch ancestors. We regard most food as a delivery system for the dairy product we cherish. How did two butter lovers find each other? Simple. I needed a roommate to share expenses in order to remain in my West Vancouver apartment after the death of my husband. Janice needed a furnished place to stay after arriving in West Van from Ottawa, home sold, worldly goods in storage, to be close to her family. I had resigned myself to moving into a 500-square-foot senior housing apartment. The loss, not just of my husband of 59 years, but of his pension and Social Security, made this a necessity. But my eldest daughter, Tracey, had other ideas. She had been with me for six weeks, helping me care for her father. But following his death, she had to return home to care for her own family. Before she left, she assigned me a project, saying, “Mommy, you are not going to lose your home as well as Daddy.” “What about the rent?” I asked. “Easy,” she replied. “You’ll stay in your bedroom. We’ll turn your studio into another bedroom. You’ll find the perfect roommate. You’ll share expenses. She’ll be your best friend.” “What?” I said.

“I’ll be back. Your homework is to clear out your studio. I’ll do the rest. No moping around, OK?” I cleared the room. Tracey returned. We set about enticing the Perfect Roommate. Word of mouth, church notices and bulletin boards yielded nothing. A pitch on Sabbatical Homes for retired, congenial female professors flopped. Drastic steps were needed. With fear and trepidation, I placed ads on Craigslist and Kijiji, a website I’d never heard of. Out of the wilds of Kijiji emerged one possible candidate: Janice, a retired Federal lawyer. We arranged to meet for coffee in Ambleside at a location chosen by me. Coached by concerned friends, I was prepared to be in charge. Brandishing a Roommate Agreement downloaded from the Internet, I set off, looking, I hoped, like Margaret Thatcher. I was intercepted en route by Janice who called to inform me that my café had folded. No worries. She had arranged for a table at Cindy’s, not ten feet away. Score one for her side. The minute I saw her, I liked her. But I needed to recoup my dignity with the Roommate Agreement. Janice pre-empted this display of competence by providing me with a police report, her resume, and a magazine article about her charming children. Gad. She examined the Roommate Agreement, giving it her full attention, then looked up and said, “Excellent! But it’s an Alberta form.” I gave up. Yielding to my warm, fuzzy nature, I embraced the idea of her. “You’re the one,” I said, or words to that effect. “Want to see our apartment? It’s a block away.” She signed up for three months. We’ve been together two years. I can’t imagine a better roommate.

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We’re wildly different. She’s a retired lawyer, with a keen legal mind. I’m a children’s author/illustrator and writer, who flies by the seat of her pants. But we’ve discovered we share more than we imagined. And it’s not just our passion for butter. It’s things like family. Friends. Groceries. Cooking. Laundry. Housekeeping. All the small joys and griefs of living fully engaged lives. Our worlds have been greatly expanded by being roommates. We share, not just a common space, but our hearts. We are even working on a book together. It will be all about roommates and what it takes to find somebody compatible. We’ll keep you posted!

Anne’s depiction of the ‘interview.’

Anne, Janice and butter.

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July/August 2019

The many benefits of giving BY

Micheline Varas

harity simply means giving of self - whether time, money or belongings - to others or to a foundation established to serve others. When we consider giving to charity, our motivation is generally about giving back, paying it forward, or perhaps leaving a legacy. While saving tax is not the primary reason to donate, donations do offer us financial benefits that play a role in timing, size, assets and funding structures. The first decision is whether to make a gift during our lifetime or donate upon our passing. The next is how to fund our donation. Often cash donations are made, but we have flexibility to donate other assets which may sometimes prove to be more favourable. Cash: If donating upon death, a credit can offset 100% of net income on the terminal return and the year prior. If donating during our lifetime, the credit offsets

a maximum 75% of net income. A lifetime donation can offset income in the year it is made, or it can be carried forward five years, and back one year. RRSPs and RRIFs: These may create significant tax liabilities in the year of death as their value is included in the final tax return as income and taxed at the deceased’s marginal tax rate. For philanthropic objectives, a charity can be named as beneficiary. In so doing, the value of the RRSP or RRIF would still be taxed, but the value of the donation is eligible for the donation tax credit which would effectively eliminate taxes reported into income. Life insurance: There are options here. We can select a policy in which the charity is named beneficiary. We retain ownership and upon our passing the benefit is paid to the charity, providing a tax credit used in the year of death. Alternatively we could transfer ownership of a life insurance policy to a charity while alive, naming it beneficiary. Under this scenario, a donation credit is available for any ex-

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isting cash surrender value that exists at time of transfer plus a donation credit with respect to paid policy premiums. Land: Should we own property, and want to retain its use until we pass, we can do so through a charitable remainder trust, donating full ownership upon death. We would reap some tax benefit during our lifetime, and the rest in our estate. Art and Valuables: Artists, collectors and people with personal valuable items are treated differently by the CRA, even if donating identical items. Should a collector donate a sculpture it’s treated as capital property. An artist’s donation may be treated either way, depending on the gifting circumstances. Should the item be worth more than $1,000, it must be appraised by the charity. Donating capital property

is a taxable disposition, so changes to an item’s value since it was acquired, results in a taxable capital gain. Securities: CRA allows investors, business owners, employees with company stock plans or options or estates to donate publicly listed shares, bonds and mutual funds directly to a charity. There are effective strategies for those who are selling large positions in an investment portfolio. If charity begins at home, why not consider the Harvest Project? A community-based urban relief organization, it “extends a hand up” to those in need. Connecting with over 1,000 people each month between Deep Cove and Horseshoe Bay, it provides food, clothing, work-force re-entry, food recovery and distribution, coaching and the list goes on.

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COMMUNITY PERSONALITY

Connie Spiers: Unsung community hero BY

Karen Fowlie

nytime you meet Connie Spiers on the street, she always takes the time to ask about your news and enjoy a good laugh with you. A long-time Horseshoe Bay resident, Connie’s volunteer work has contributed enormously to the area’s outstanding community spirit and quality of life. I met Connie in 2011. It was the postOlympics happiness haze, and I was hosting a music jam down at the Troller Pub when Connie walked in, all smiles. The auspicious eighth child of an eighth child, Connie hails

Connie Spiers, Bonnie Sauder and Karen Fowlie.

from the Muskoka area. A true-blue Canadian, she tells stories of how she and her siblings rode in sleighs through the Boreal forest in search of maple trees. They would tap the trees, collect the sap and bring the bounty to the sleigh. Then they’d add some snow to the heated syrup in a ladle, and scramble to enjoy the tasty “taffy” treat. Connie studied business administration at Ryerson, then moved on to the University of Toronto for her teaching certification, completing it at UBC where she studied fine art history. This was followed by teaching business at BCIT. Combining her lifelong passion for skiing

Photo provided

with entrepreneurial zeal, Connie for Brenda Broughton, Mary-Ann started a hat business called Booth, Jordan Sturdy and Pam Block Heater Head Wear Goldsmith-Jones. She now Ltd. She was attracted volunteers with the Westto Banff and began to ern Residents Associamanufacture her ski tion, the Local Area hats there. In coPlanning Commitoperation with Air tee, the Municipal Canada, she sponHorseshoe Bay Park sored Everest ‘82 redesign team and and the climbers the Horseshoe Bay wore the first hats Business Associamade with Goretion. She also assisttex interiors to the ed Dr. Robert Falls summit. During with his book launch the 1988 Calgary of Carbon Play and Olympics, Connie coordinated a sold-out warmed the heads lecture at the West Vanof both the Jamaican couver Yacht Club. bobsled and Bolivian ski Connie lifts people up teams. Demand for Conand helps them to achieve nie’s hats grew and her their goals, even when the Photo provided company started manuspotlight isn’t on her. She Connie Spiers at the helm. facturing hats in three regularly assists with our provinces in order to fulmusic group’s events. Durfill orders across Canada and Europe. ing preparations for our free Canada Day Her success attracted a purchaser and, concert in Horseshoe Bay, Connie opened with an offer she could not refuse, she re- up her home for meetings, helped with turned to BC and her love of winter skiing planning and even lifted sand bags on the and summer boating. Both are easily ac- day. Thank you Connie, for all your help, cessible from Horseshoe Bay, where Con- and for encouraging me to be the best singnie opened Spirit Gallery. She later ran the er I can be. Northern Lights Gallery in Squamish. Art. Teaching. Friendship. Generosity. It seems Connie wasn’t busy enough, so Empowerment. Volunteering. Community. she began attending village meetings in Lions That’s what Connie Spiers is all about. So Bay. She enjoyed the proceedings so much if you see Connie walking down the street, that she became a councillor. Later, Connie take a moment to enjoy a friendly exchange went on to volunteer her time to campaign of news and a good laugh together.

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July/August 2019

Horseshoe Bay and the new Local Area Plan BY

John Meekison Co-Chair, WRA board of directors

orseshoe Bay (and surrounding areas extending to Caulfeild to the east and Whytecliff Park to the west) is a unique part of the West Vancouver district. Not only is it a residential community, but it’s also a major travel hub for those transiting to Vancouver Island, Squamish, Bowen Island, Whistler and the Sunshine Coast. The rugged west coast beauty also makes ‘the Bay’ a tourist destination in its own right. With the Horseshoe Bay area becoming more popular, the community is now the subject of a number of current and planned developments that will impact the village neighbourhoods for years to come including: • BC Ferries Terminal expansion • Horseshoe Bay Streetscape Plan • Horseshoe Bay Local Area Plan • St. Monica’s property development and Gleneagles land assembly proposal • Horseshoe Bay Park upgrade

On January 23, 2019, the WRA, along with the Horseshoe Bay Business Association, hosted a town hall to bring these issues to the attention of the community. More than 250 people, representing a variety of local neighbourhoods, were in attendance. One of the major agenda items was to solicit community input for a Local Area Plan (LAP). With the Official Community Plan

“

ies, character considerations of residential homes and local businesses and public assembly spaces. Town hall attendees were keen to ensure that the design of the LAP incorporated the views and interests of Horseshoe Bay residents and that the plan included a strong consultation process. Some specific comments on the LAP planning process included: ensuring that meaningful LAP information was provided by the District to the community and that the District listened to the community; implementing a working group to develop the LAP with local residents; acting quickly to get the LAP underway; and ensuring that the community has input in shaping the future look of Horseshoe Bay. Attendees provided a number of ideas for inclusion in LAP planning, including impact of Ferry Plan on the LAP, improved coordination between council and developers, more public meeting space, careful timing of separate projects, additional commercial amenities and innovative housing forms/lot size. A number of community concerns were identified for future consideration by the LAP. These included traffic congestion, noise, emergency access, utilities and infrastructure, increasing the younger demographic, maintaining village character, unfair proportion of growth assigned to our area, and minimizing loss of green space and trees. On March 11, 2019, West Vancouver Council announced that Horseshoe Bay would be the first LAP to be developed for

“There will, naturally, have to be compromise, but community input is a critical component.” (OCP) having been adopted in June 2018, attention from City Hall has turned to the process of implementing a number of LAPs for the unique communities within West Vancouver - Horseshoe Bay among them. The LAP is essentially a sub-plan designed to take into consideration the characteristics of a specific community, such as geographic and topographical boundar-

Photo provided

Approaching ferry viewed from Horseshoe Bay.

the district. Consequently, the district has rapidly mobilized a consulting process for the LAP. Led by the District Planning Department, the LAP process will take approximately one year, from Spring 2019 to Spring 2020, and be broken into four phases. Phase 1 – Vision: Understand perspectives and create a vision for the future. Phase 2 – Options: Prepare potential planning and design options based on the vision. Phase 3 – Foundations: Refine preferred options into planning and design foundations. Phase 4 – Plan: Finalize a proposed plan for community review and council decision. All phases will involve community and other stakeholder review and feedback. Currently underway is the establishment of an advisory roundtable made up of community members to work closely with District Planning in reviewing ideas, concerns and drawing up the framework for the LAP. All residents should be concerned and desire to ensure that the upcoming planned developments are implemented in a way that enhances Horseshoe Bay and minimizes issues for residents, businesses and travelers that live in, work in and enjoy the village. All plans and community developments will need to be woven together into a cohesive fabric that truly represents the village. There will, naturally, have to be compromise, but community input is a critical component. Change is coming to Horseshoe Bay and it is up to us as residents and stakeholders to ensure that we lend our voices to preserve the aspects we love about our community and shepherd in new development with thought and care.

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July/August 2019

The animals have their say A recent exhibit at the Ferry Building displayed Elspeth Bradburyâ€™s creative series named Wild Life. It gives voice to local animals whose stories and opinions usually go unheeded. Elspethâ€™s paintings illustrate her poems that are ostensibly written by characters such as Dundarave Crow, Seawalk Otter and Pigeons of Park Royal. Here the racoons provide their thoughts.

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July/August 2019

Some enchanted evening John Nixon

y good friend Phil Jones introduced me to the Outing Club when we were students at McGill University. The club was dedicated to outdoor activities around Montreal. It was late October 1958 and the club had organized a Halloween weekend at its Shawbridge clubhouse, in the Laurentian hills north of Montreal. A bus had been chartered to transport

Photo provided John and Yuni’s traditional Indonesian wedding reception, December 1961.

students to and from the clubhouse. On the Friday afternoon I was queuing for the bus, looking for familiar faces among the waiting throng. I spotted a diminutive figure, an attractive oriental girl who looked to be about 16, and I hoped that I would see her again during the weekend. After boarding, I was curious to see where she was sitting, but I saw no more of her during the bus trip. A few students had beds reserved on the upper floor of the clubhouse in Shawbridge. The remainder had reserved motel rooms or guest houses in the village. After dispersing to our various accommodations, to deposit our bags and freshen up, we all assembled back at the clubhouse for victuals and refreshments. A crackling wood fire was burning in the living room fireplace and by 7.30 p.m. about 40 or 50 students had congregated to warm themselves against the evening chill. Beer flowed and some students tried to initiate a singsong, with limited success. Gradually the opening moves of the time-

Photo provided Yuni enjoying a beautiful Shawbridge, Quebec winter day two months after she and John met.

honoured mating game were enacted among the assembled throng, most of whom were huddled cross-legged on the floor, cheek by jowl. From a sofa in one corner of the room, I had a commanding view of the scene before me. I felt somewhat out of place, as I knew only a handful of other students present, and none too well. I became aware of someone looking at me from the other side of the room. Peering through the fog of cigarette smoke I recognized the smiling face of the small girl I had spotted earlier in the queue. She was sitting with her back to a piano. I grinned back awkwardly, then lowered my gaze. Looking up again I saw that she was still looking directly at me. Her smile broadened. I rose from my seat to begin the laborious journey across the room, my path blocked by bodies sprawled in various postures on the floor. It seemed ages before I had clambered over and around the sea of arms and legs to arrive at her side. Amazed by my audacity, I stood before her, somewhat apprehensive. She smiled at me and asked: “Do you play the piano?” This caught me completely off guard! Stumbling across the room, desperately racking my brain for a suitable conversational opener, it had never occurred to me that she might speak first. I mumbled something like, “No, do you?” Then, before I could stop myself, all those questions that I had been silently re-

“

hearsing came pouring out in a continuous stream, each question popping out before its predecessor had even been answered. “Do you like music? What kind of music? Do you read books? Do you like poetry? Do you enjoy travelling?” I did not plan it that way but once I was launched some kind of death wish possessed me. If I was going to fail, I might as well go down with all guns blazing! The effect was electrifying. This scintillating young beauty was staring at me, trying to make sense of this peculiar stranger. After the initial flush of confusion, we both relaxed and I learned that her name was Yuni. She had arrived in Canada from Indonesia some two months earlier on a Colombo Plan scholarship. She was to spend two years at McGill studying geology and this was her first trip outside the country of her birth. She expressed surprise that I had heard of Indonesia, could find it on a map and knew that it had been the former Dutch East Indies. When I assured her that I was familiar with nasi goreng and sambal and other Indonesian delicacies she was impressed. Later she confided that she had short-listed three promising young men among the assembly. By this stage in our conversation I had moved into the number one spot! By 10 p.m. I was thoroughly bewitched by this tropical enchantress, with skin the

“I saw that she was still looking directly at me. Her smile broadened.”

July/August 2019 colour of cinnamon, dark eyes that sparkled as she laughed and a smile that illuminated all around her. Later, I gallantly volunteered to walk her back to her guesthouse, an offer that she hesitantly accepted. The brisk night air provided welcome relief after the fetid smoke-filled clubhouse. As we trudged together under the starlit sky, I felt curiously lightheaded. Outside her guesthouse, we chatted briefly, and then on impulse I stooped to kiss her forehead. Before I could complete the manoeuvre a warning forefinger appeared. A small voice whispered “not yet” as she turned to enter the front door. The next day we strolled together along wooded trails beside frozen lakes and learned more about each other’s background, family history, interests and preferences. It was a crisp day and the trees were mantled in autumnal red and gold. Yuni exclaimed in child-like wonder as she picked up a shard of ice from a frozen puddle. She had never seen ice before outside a refrigerator! By the time we had returned to Montreal I was besotted and so began a friendship that developed into a love affair, culminating in our Montreal wedding less than two years later. The relationship would endure for more than forty-five years, until her untimely death in

2004, producing two children and six adorable grandchildren. In June of 1997 Yuni and I drove from Montreal to the Laurentians to see if we could find the magical place where it all began. Shawbridge had merged with the neighbouring village of Prevost and the old anglophone name of Shawbridge had disappeared. Touring the narrow lanes around the village we stumbled upon a two-storey building with a steep pitched roof, grey stucco walls, and doors and windows outlined in red and white paint. A prominent sign proclaimed, McGill Outing Club. We approached the building and peered through the windows into a darkened living room. I could see the smoke-smudged brick fireplace surrounded by dark wood paneling. Beside the fireplace a door gave access to the kitchen, just as I remembered. Instinctively I peered to the right seeking the sofa on which I had sat that fateful night, and to the left seeking the piano. Chairs had been stacked against the walls but there was no sign of the sofa or piano, those silent witnesses to a love story that began that enchanted evening almost forty years previously, with smiles exchanged between two strangers across a crowded room.

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A resident of West Vancouver since 1968, John Nixon worked as a professional engineer for 55 years, including several years living overseas with his family. John enjoys travel but writing stories is his passion. Recently,

at age 82, he walked his annual Sun Run. And as a 79-year-old, he twice completed the Grouse Grind. The above is a condensed version of an article published in Humanist Perspectives, Autumn 2018 issue.

The Nixons/ Yuni, Melina, John and John Jr in Vancouver, 1969.

PETTIT

Photo provided

AND COMPANY* TRIAL LAWYERS

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July/August 2019

A Bear to remember Chris Stringer

ents who wanted tires checked or needed help with their cards at the pump or gas cannisters to be filled. Bear never stood still…. except for a car with a dog. Some of his hile filling my car at the ‘regular’ four-legged customers Westmount Chevron one day in April, I loved him so much that they grew uncontrollable whennoticed a friend, transfixed ever they spotted the Chevin front of the station office ron sign. door, reading a notice. Her body was trembling, and Bear was with ChevI hollered over, “What’s ron for 53 years, beginning in the interior. In up, Lindsay?” She turned the early years, during to me, tears streaming, the days of stations with and struggled with her service bays and mechanresponse: “Bear died!” ics, he managed things. Hard to believe for those of us who have grown But he preferred the front line action of serving the cusaccustomed to Bear’s prestomer, apparently never missence and his urgent gait as he ing a shift. rushed to serve his customBear with one of his fourBear was not about idle ers. Over the thirty years that legged ‘customers.’ chatter. His focus on efficient I’ve filled up at Chevron, ‘Bear’ Barry Daniel has attended to full serve cus- work and attentive service would not allow tomers with quiet eagerness, rain or shine. for this. He trained everyone who worked When full service was clear he assisted cli- on his opposite shift. “His training technique BY

Shelagh PARC resident Photo provided Connie Spiers at the helm.

Photos provided

The Chevron Westmount crew, with Bear, circa 2004.

was simple,” says Kim Conrad, the present station operator, who was trained by Bear in 1986. He wisely instructed Kim, “Just follow me around and you will know what to do.” Chevron co-workers regularly joked with Bear that he would die in his work boots. They were not wrong. Bear worked his final shift at Westmount Chevron and waited for his shift replacement, before being taken to Lions Gate Hospital with a stroke. He succumbed two weeks later, on April 10. He had also had a short battle with an aggressive form of cancer. “Bear’s honesty, kindness, quiet pres-

ence, work ethic, and true care for his fellow man make him a stand-out individual,” says Kim Conrad, manager, close friend, confidante, hockey team-mate, and adopted family member of 33 years. “The heartwarming correspondence that is pouring in is truly unbelievable.” Just as the news of Bear’s passing affected Lindsay, so too it impacted all of us in the community who knew this very special person who touched so many hearts. Please join us to celebrate BEAR DAY at the Westmount Chevron station on Saturday, July 27, between10am and 4pm

Life’s better here Shelagh says that a move to retirement living is just about getting used to a new way of life. From using driver service to get to her appointments to taking PARC FIT classes to build her strength, Shelagh is doing things her way. That’s how it is at Westerleigh PARC: it’s easy to get where you want to go and do what you choose to do. Life’s just better here.

To book a tour and complimentary lunch, call 604.922.9888.

725 – 22nd St., West Vancouver

parcliving.ca/westerleigh

July/August 2019

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High sky puzzlement BY

Roger Sweeney

t happened on a warm spring afternoon early this April. We were drinking in the garden sunshine, watching our resident crow break twigs from the dogwood tree, to repair the family nest. Far away to the south-east over Mount Baker, a tiny white contrail started pushing up into the blue. A couple of minutes later, it had grown into the twin contrails from a larger aircraft, still very far away. Each contrail was being fed by two jet exhausts, so I knew it must be a 747 or modern equivalent. Over the next several minutes the trailmaker blazed two dead straight, snow white lines up the sky towards us. It passed

overhead seven miles up and was beyond us on course for the Orient when finally we recognized the faint whine of its turbines. We watched in fascination as the starboard (most northerly) contrail proceeded to break into a series of white dashes all the way back along the track. These lasted for a minute or so, then slowly dissipated, until there remained just one long white line in the sky. How come? I do not understand how one of twin contrails from an aircraft can disappear leaving the other to persist, unaffected. I have shared this story with two senior Air Canada pilots, yet am left with my puzzlement. Can anyone explain this phenomenon? It is something I’ll never forget.

Twin contrails through the spring sky.

BRIAN POMFRET

Photo: Andrew Berezovsky/Shutterstock.com

JOE GARDENER

Water conservation is key in summer July: The elusive summer weather is here and set to bathe us in that gorgeous heat we have longed for. Water conservation is most important and home gardeners should be aware of municipal water restrictions. • Mulch those gardens with leaf mold from your compost bin. Wood chips are great at protecting the soil below from heat. But don’t dig them in, as they rob nitrogen. •W ater plants wisely when they are thirsty and water deeply. Check soil an inch below surface and if moist, wait a while to water.

• Make sure containers and baskets are watered daily in the morning. Use fish fertilizer or Osmocote, a slow release fertilizer that can last months. • Regularly deadhead or pinch back annuals and flowering shrubs, especially roses, to keep them producing. • Roses could use an addition of steer manure. Fertilize with rose food after each bloom flush. August: The proverbial ‘dog days’ bring the hottest weather of the summer with lots of perennials and shrubs showing their stuff. Plenty of them are fragrant,

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like honeysuckles and sweet peas climbing everywhere. •W ater deeply first thing in the morning so that any wet foliage will dry before the heat of the day. •D eadhead roses, shrubs and perennials for that final show of the season. • Th e rambling roses should have their final pruning. •M ake sure to clip off the final flowering stems of lavender to keep the plant tidy, but don’t prune back foliage just yet. • Th is is the time of the first hard prun-

ing of wisteria. All the wispy bits should be pruned back to 3 to 5 nodes from its main stem. • Dahlias are popular with lots of cultivars and are great for cutting. The flowers are edible! • Cut raspberry canes that have finished fruiting to the ground and tie new canes to a bamboo support. That’s where next year’s fruit will be. Enjoy your summer gardening.

“At Amici restaurant we specialize in old world Italian cooking, where the food is plentiful and delicious! You want Italian? We’ll give you Italian with our tradition of warm hospitality.”

- Scott

1747 Marine Drive, West Vancouver | 604.913.1314

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July/August 2019

And then the Frosts went to Europe BY

Ann Frost

n early April 1965 a West Vancouver family of six, including children aged 3, 7, 10 and 12, gathered at the train station. It was the first stage of a 4 ½ month trip to Europe and the UK. At the last minute, the husband’s

The Frost family with their VW camper van.

mother pleaded, “Are you sure you don’t want to leave the baby with me?” The daughterin-law smiled, “She’ll be fine, honestly,” and they boarded the train. Settled in their seats, the three-year-old, chin atremble, said, “I will miss all my friends.” But it would turn out to be the trip of a lifetime. Later, boarding the SS Ryndam, we were in

Photo provided

for a pleasant surprise. Four little ones? Come to the head of the line! Going down the St. Lawrence was blissful until Janie, the youngest, got scarlet fever and everyone else suffered seasickness. Whoever said getting there is half the fun? But the trip did offer great food, excellent service, affordable drinks and wonderful entertainment. Ten days later we arrived in Rotterdam to the Tulip Festival and magnificent gardens. We picked up our Volkswagen van at the dock. Children would sleep in the van, mum and dad in a tent, which we bought at the SportHuis Centrum, along with the rest of the camping equipment. So many wonderful memories of Holland: bicycles everywhere, windmills, farm animals, and amazing laundromats with double-soap wash, the last we saw of that kind of service! And then it was off to Paris. We got hopelessly lost in the Bois de Bologne. Two gendarmes rescued us, escorting us to the camping entrance where we met our first group of international travellers. Paris c’est magnifique: the Louvre, Tuileries Gardens (donkey rides

for the little ‘uns), Jeu de Paume with merrygo-rounds, swings and expensive ice cream. The Eiffel Tower totally impressed Janie. Later, in Malmaison, we spotted a limo flying the new Canadian flag and then it was Adieu, Paris! Chateau country came next. We swapped information with fellow campers about camp grounds that had hot water and toilets you could actually sit on! We returned to Chenoceaux for the Son et Lumiere. There were marvellous chateaus everywhere. An American couple invited us for hamburgers for dinner (the children cheered) and then it was time for a “beach break.” Every few days we stayed in our campground and caught up on washing (there were no laudromats in southern France). The older children worked on their scrapbooks while the little ones made friends at the campsite. Our last campground in France had warm showers from water in the cistern warmed by the sun. It was mid-May when we headed to the Italian border for the next leg of this adventure of a lifetime…

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July/August 2019

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July/August 2019

PERSONAL REAL ESTATE CORPORATION

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Macdonald Realty Ltd. This communication is not intended to cause or induce breach of an existing agency agreement.