Nostalgia

The Victoria Times Columnist published an article a few days ago announcing the new Ocean Falls Archives. I have had access to many photos the last few years, of Ocean Falls, both past and present, because I belong to the Ocean Falls Google Talk Group, but this picture is quite recent. The last of the old mill is being demolished. By the lie of the land and proximity to the 'Falls', I know exactly what part of the mill this is. As a young man I walked up and down that area many times a night as I collected pulp and paper samples to take to my lab for crucial tests. It was old and rickety back in the early seventies when I was there and whenever there was a paper break on the machines, the whole concrete structure would shake and rattle and at times actual pieces of cement would fall from the ceiling. It was frightening and I often thought the whole place would collapse on me one day. Well, it is now collapsed with the help of that Hi-Hoe. I look at the photo and can hardly believe I was there.   

Postscript

View from ferry that brings you into Ocean Falls today.

I often think of our days in Ocean Falls, but organising my thoughts and honing my memory for this project has had some unexpected benefits. When I first started, Lis told me she had some souvenirs that she had kept in a scrapbook from those days. I was amazed to see some very interesting artifacts and memorabilia. There were newspaper articles, Crown Zellerbach newsletters, pulp test samples, test charts from the paper testing station, letters written on various types of paper that I had just tested and was hot off the machines, and some incredible town site maps from the engineering department dated from the 1950's. If I ever go back to Ocean Falls, I will have to take them with me and donate them to the museum there.
I knew we had kept our letters from those days, when the phone service was unreliable and we did not see each other for months at a time. There were well over 250 letters (just the ones I had written) and after reading them over a period of a few weeks, I was totally back in the frame of mind that inspired me to write them. The old feelings of waves of loneliness came back, as I described my life in the hotel and working long hours and not seeing the sun for many days on end. I read them in chronological order and as the letters progressed, I could see my thoughts developing and some maturity setting in. I believe a renewed love for my wife has also been re-kindled in the process. It is easy to forget the days of long ago when we are so wrapped up in today. But I was reminded why I fell in love with Lis and why I loved her so much, and why we were willing to wait for each other as the months dragged by.
There have also been other serendipity's. I have done some research and found some really great sites with tons of photo archives and stories. I have joined a "Yahoo Group" open only to former residents of Ocean Falls and have opened communications with a few people from there. I have not yet connected with some of my favourite people but it may yet happen.
I mentioned my friend who was in the car with me, when I had the accident that led to me taking the safe driving course in Ocean Falls. We have just in the last few weeks 'found' each other. In those days he lived right next door to me. Today, he again lives close, but this time three houses down and across the street in a town home complex. We have been out for coffee twice and are renewing our old friendship.
I realise that not 100% of my tale will be 100% accurate, but my recollections are based on the letters, the articles, and mostly my memory. I realise that time can warp reality, but there was not an intention to mislead or misrepresent. These were my memories and my recollections. It has been a cathartic, nostalgic, and most enjoyable time travel experience for me. I hope whoever reads these blog posts will find it worthwhile, a bit entertaining and a bit educational.

Thanks for reading, you do me a great honour.

A Bold Move

This is a panoramic view of Cousin's Inlet. Martin Valley is on the left, and the Ocean Falls town site on the right. I 'borrowed' the last two photos from a website put together by the Ocean Falls Development Committee.

There have been precedents. Private enterprise has determined that a business is no longer viable and then a government takes over. This never works. The reasons are all about political ideology and motivation as opposed to pragmatism. Even after new infrastructure such as a $5 million state of the art ground wood mill (built in 1965) and upgrades to the steam plant, Crown Zellerbach could not make a profit, probably because of falling newsprint and pulp prices on the world market. So to save the people, the jobs, and the town, the mill was purchased in March of '73, by the NDP government, even though there were only 6 people in town who did not already have another job and location to go to. Most had already shipped their belongings out of town and were in the stages of closing down their lives in Ocean Falls. Ted Vesak, who was directly involved in the studies that led to the original plan to shut down the mill, was now hired on as manager of all operations. Yes, he knew, but took the job anyway. There had been numerous other suggestions for the town site, from fish farming operations, to a drug addiction rehab retreat. But in the end, it was decided to take the two mothballed newsprint machines and fire them up. There was a little spike in paper prices right then and that was all the motivation that was needed to make the final decision.
It turned out to be a fiasco. Shortly after the government took over, we were seeing news headlines that were claiming that production had never been so high at the mill. I could not understand this so I made some inquiries and found out that all four machines were running newsprint at full speed. This obviously made for higher tonnage because you cannot run the machines at a high speed when you are making the more profitable specialty papers. Not only that, but I found out the newsprint did not always have a market and it was being pumped out in record amounts and then being stored. The problem was, storage space was limited so the thousands of rolls of paper were being fork lifted to the old sawmill which was old, decrepit and had leaky roofs. In no time at all, mountains of perfectly good newsprint were reduced to useless piles of wet and rotting pulp. But headlines did not reveal this. It was Government deceit at it worst.
Even 'they' could not carry on this sham forever and eventually, what Crown Zellerbach had known all along, dawned on the bureaucrats. Again, it was announced that the mill and town were shutting down, but this time there would be no last minute deals. Even a murderer on death row eventually goes to his demise.
The death was swift and brutal. Without a lot of consultation, the town was what they called 'normalized'. That was a sanitized version of 'demolished'. After much hue and cry from former residents, 'normalisation' was halted just before evertything was lost. What was left is still standing today. Some of it in total disrepair, some of it restored for historical purposes, and some building are being used or lived in to this day.
There are now around 50 permanant residents but in summer the population explodes as holidayers, fishermen, and former residents invade the town.
I have not been back but have seen many photos of what is left. I do not know if I want to go back. I have heard from others that it is difficult. I see it as such a waste and a devastation of such an incredibly beautiful spot. The town of my childhood in Saskatchewan is not at all like it was when I was growing up there. I have been back there and it is difficult not recognising all the old familiar spots. This would be the same. If I do go back, this blogspot will be the first to hear about it.

Saved?

This is a photo from above, of what is left of Ocean Falls today.

It was a thrill to be back in civilisation, although it took some getting used to. A few days after our flight home, our 35 boxes of belongings arrived via Northland Shipping Co. and we farmed it out to our parents basements until we could find a place to live. Our first priority was to purchase a new car and do some travelling. It was the reason we did not stay 'till the end. We were not home one week and we heard the shocking news. Ocean Falls was to get a reprieve. We could have stayed there and continued to work, but by the sound of things, the decision to keep the mill going was just another postponement of the inevitable. I felt sorry for those who had already packed their belongings and had secured jobs in other towns. Now they had to make a decision. The two newsprint paper machines had been mothballed and only the two specialty machines were now running. The price of newsprint was falling and the cost of producing paper in the old mill was increasing.

We did our travelling across Canada that summer and had a great time. But even as we came back home to settle in, we had an ever watchful eye on the newspapers and kept in contact with a few people in Ocean Falls to hear what the eventual fate of the town would be. We continued to wonder what would have happened to us had we decided to stay a few more weeks. And then the big announcement came, ten months later, on March 16, 1973. There was a buyer!

Final Flight

"You had better get in right away. The weather is coming in fast."
We were not surprised because whenever the sun was shining in Ocean Falls, it meant that rain was just around the corner. But we also knew from the last few years, that flights in and out of town were cancelled without notice more often than not. We just wanted to get going and not worry about where to stay if we were delayed in town for another day or two.
The pilot threw our few bags into the hold and ushered us on board, me in the co-pilot's seat and Lis and my sister Jan in the back.
He quickly throttled up and because of our light load, we were airborne in no time at all. We looked back over our shoulders, gave a quick wave to our friends on the dock, and took a last look at what had been our home, and what we would probably never see again.
We were at a thousand feet by the time we rounded Cousin's inlet and headed up the Dean Channel to King Island. And there it was. A grey wall. I knew that storms looked worse from a distance, especially when the perspective was from the sunshine. We hit the wall in a few minutes and at first it did not look that bad. The visibility was decent and the pilot seemed to have confidence.
But it was only the leading edge of the storm and as we progressed, the plane began to get tossed around and we could barely make out the water below, and certainly not the mountains on either side. I was not too concerned because I knew the Beaver had pontoons and there was no shortage of water to land on should we get into serious trouble.
Just as the plane began to lose altitude, I stated the source of my confidence to the pilot who answered me by pointing out the huge white caps in the ocean below. I then realised, and knew, that a plane the size of the Beaver could not land in such rough seas. And he was indeed flying lower because he wanted to keep sight of the water.
"It is worse that I thought it would be. Maybe we should turn back."
I did not like what I was hearing.
After an hour of indecision, suddenly, the plane banked steeply and I blurted out, "What?"
After what seemed like forever, we were nearing Port Hardy and the visibility was deteriorating rapidly.
"I am going to have to 'island hop' the rest of the way in. I cannot see the next island so I will circle this one until I can catch a glimpse of the next one."
The steep and sudden banking of the plane resulted in a retching sound from behind me. Lis was in very early pregnancy, plus air sick, and she had been holding the little brown bag under her chin for the last twenty minutes already. She was now making good use of it. I was concerned for her but could not get to her because it was critical, at that time, that we remain belted in.
So, we island hopped for the next 30 minutes, sometimes in a gentle bank because the Island was large, and more often very steeply as the Island was so small and we did not want to lose sight of it. My eyes were strained and tired, desperately trying to distinguish shapes of trees or cliffs in the flat grey light. The pilot seemed to be depending on me a lot to help spot the terrain.
As we circled a spit of land for the sixth time, the pilot, who seemed to be in a quandary, finally opened up to me what the situation was.
There was no turning back. We were low on fuel, and he "just knew" that the Port Hardy harbour was just two miles across open water from where we were now. But, he wanted to see the goal before reaching for it. I wanted for him to see it too.
"I'm going for it!" he finally exclaimed. "It will be alright."
As I glanced over at him, taking my eyes off the greyness around us for an instant, I did not like the beads of perspiration I saw on his brow and upper lip.
I was too young to die. Don't we all say that? But it was true in this case. I had a wife and a child on the way. We were about to start a new life. My sister was in my care. I didn't have a will. I can't swim. These and another million thoughts flashed through my mind as we set a straight course into the grey unknown.
I cannot tell you how tense the next few moments were. What I can tell you is that there were four people praying and I guess that was a quorum because God saw fit to present to us the most incredible sight I have ever seen in my entire life. The light suddenly increased and almost instantly, we were in sunshine, but the most incredible part was that right there in front of our faces was the sleepy little harbour village of Port Hardy and we were heading straight for the seaplane docks, at just the right altitude and speed.
The relief and euphoria in that little cabin was palpable. Even Lis took her face out of the bag for an instant to see the answer to our prayers.
After much celebratory back slapping and congratulating, we transferred to a regular plane and resumed our flight to Vancouver, a very dull and uneventful happening. We were grateful for that because our adrenalin reserves needed replenishing.
.

Farewell

This picture actually includes one more person that you cannot see. Ponchos were all the rage, as you can see, but under Lis's poncho is the mystery person, our first child, and technically, also a resident of Ocean Falls.

In May of 1972, events came to a head and after years of threats, rumours and postponed announcements, the news that was not new to anyone, was that yes, Ocean Falls would be shutting down for good. It would happen some time in July, only two months away. There was relief and sadness and because everyone had more than enough time to contemplate the consequences for their own lives, most people had plans. We certainly did too. The decision to leave was made for us so we chose the exact day. I put in my resignation and with two weeks to go before D-day, we packed our few belongings and reserved a flight back to Vancouver.
Our desire to travel during the summer months overcame our desire to stay until the end. My sister (tall, blonde, in the photo) saw it as her last chance to come so she spent the last few days with us there and flew out with us. She, and Lis's sister were the only family that ever came to see us.
Our good friends, Larry and Rosanne Rae, had decided to stick it out to the bitter end so they came to see us off at the float plane dock. This was the last picture in my camera of Ocean Falls. It was a beautiful sunny day as the plane taxied to the dock and as we took our last look at the town that was settled between the mountains and the sea, we had very mixed feelings. But we would soon be fearing for our lives and days later hearing the most shocking news about our beloved town.

A Last Look

These are the Garden Apartments. Even though the town was gearing down, the population was dwindling, and there was no shortage of accommodation, these beautiful homes were built in the the mid sixties, only a few years before everything shut down. It was not built by private development but was part of the company town infrastructure. Today, these homes still stand, but barely. There are tall trees growing up through the carports, the roofs leak and the interiors are rotting and unsalvageable.

Front street on an evening when the several inches of rain turned to snow. This is the street where the executives of the mill lived. It was always pretty here. Today, these houses are gone, the concrete pavement is heaved, cracked and overgrown, and is barely recognisable as more than a path through the underbrush.

Click on the picture to enlarge. 1. Site of a big mud and rock slide in 1965 where several houses and their occupants were swept into the ocean. An apartment block was also damaged and the credit union was swept to the ocean's edge. Seven people perished that night and the town was evacuated across the bridge to the mill site. 2. The Gospel Fellowship Hall where I lived with my sister. We were almost the highest building in town. It was 227 wooden steps from the front door to the bridge that separated the town from the mill. 3. The empty space is where the school was. When it burned down, so did the steps. My brother-in-law and I hacked a crude trail down the slope through the Salmon Berry bushes for a shortcut. It was a long way around if we went to town via the roads. 4. The Cedars Apartment where Lis and I lived the whole time we were together in Ocean Falls. Very nice location and in spite of being built in the 30's and being a loud and echoing structure, it was home and we like it.

Contemplation

My 3 years in Ocean Falls were coming to an end. The first half of my adventure was filled with new experiences and challenges and made me grow up. It forced me to evaluate my life and my future and it took me away from some influences that could have been detrimental. It created in me a sense of independence and a final separation from parents as my care providers. I came to the realisation that I could not live alone and that marriage was a good and right thing for me.
The last half of the adventure was an extended honeymoon, an opportunity to build a financial footing in life, and a time to make plans for the future. It was a time when the deep loneliness disappeared and in retrospect was one of the happiest times of my life.
Overshadowing our life there, was the constant reality of impermanence. Leaving was inevitable, but the timing of that was uncertain but always imminent. There were constant threats of strikes. Our lives were greatly effected by longshoreman strikes, tugboat operators strikes, postal workers strikes, airport workers strikes, pulp and paper maker strikes, and I realise now, that those were tumultuous times in the world of labour relations in BC. In fact, the unionization of BC's labour force was a factor in the upcoming provincial elections of '72 which had an immediate effect on our town and our future.

Life in Ocean Falls

With my new Pentax Spotmatic 35mm single lens reflex camera, and a tripod, I was now an official portrait photographer. I forgot to read the chapter on composition, wardrobe, and lighting. Oh well, I have a memento.

The main indoor activity was reading and we both loved reading. We were only a few steps away from the town library and could see it from our kitchen window.

Lis took up painting and became quite good at it. She did not have a paid job while we lived there but certainly honed her skills as a homemaker. She also befriended the lady across the hall who was left alone with her young daughter most of the time. They were an Italian couple and her English was not good. She and her husband fought, constantly.

Kicking back and probably listening to my eight track tape player. Radio reception was sporadic and the one TV station, CFTK the "Tall Totem Television System" from Terrace BC was dependent on the receiver functioning, which it rarely did in winter when the mountain top antennae would ice up.

Our first visitor as a married couple. Lis's sister from Richmond came for a few days. We managed to get outdoors quite often and showed her our favourite spots. Today, we live in the same city.

More Things To Do

The sand bars on Martin River were our favourite places to visit. The river was so clean and clear and the sand was unspoiled. Even though the water was mostly snow melt and icy cold, we were in up to our knees just to get to the sand bars. I will never forget the beauty, peace, and tranquility of that place.

I was never in the Ocean Falls hospital, but my sister worked there part time during the months before they moved back to Vancouver. They demolished it and built a newer, more modern facility.

This was the same crane that fell through the docks in yesterday's post. The hospital was down in a matter of hours.

That winter was one of the driest on record. Normally, the water would be to the line where the snow meets the trees. There was threat of closing the mill and saving the water for hydro power generation. And then the rains came and within days, the lake was back up to normal levels.

It got cold enough that winter to freeze the lake where it was not so deep. Who would have thought that anybody in Ocean Falls even owned ice skates, but plenty of kids and adults were out there playing hockey. There was always a festive atmosphere when the rain stopped and folks gathered for any outdoor activity. Most people took every opportunity they could to get out and enjoy what was known a 'no rain' day. Very rare indeed.

Things To Do In Ocean Falls

We tried to get outdoors as often as the weather would permit. Hiking was the big thing for us because there were no shortages of mountains to climb and places to explore, if you were not afraid of bears. In the above photo, we have climbed half way up Sawmill Mountain and looking back was a spectacular view of the mill and the town. The terrain was very steep. My theory was that because there was more garbage for the bears to eat on the town side of the valley, we would be fairly safe up here. It was rare to ever meet another human on the trail.

Our favourite hike was to Lost Lake. It was on the lake side of the dam and the trail was about 45 minutes to a small lake under a looming cliff on Caromarion Mountain. There was a huge boulder a short leap from shore on which to sun one's self and lay back and watch the eagles soaring on the thermal updrafts. The trail was well maintained and at one time a lot of effort had gone into building it. There were numerous waterfalls and streams along the way. The water was so very pure and we always drank from the streams that were clear and refreshing.

Here we are at the top of Sawmill Mountain and just over the saddle back. The little shack in the background is the 'ski lodge'. There were actually a few pairs of skis in there. At one time, there had been a big beautiful lodge on these slopes. I have seen pictures of it and it was a log post and beam construction which could house many skiers. The rumour has it that one night there was an orange glow in the sky above Sawmill Mountain. Hikers, the next day, found nothing but ashes and because a Norwegian freighter was in dock taking on a load of paper, it was suspected that some of the crew had gone up there to party at night and started the fire. Nobody ever got to the bottom of it. At the time that this photo was taken, I did not know of the lodge or I would have searched for its remains

A little incident like this can create quite a stir in an isolated town. It drew quite a crowd of onlookers the day that it happened. The main town square was built on a dock and the timbers, being very old and decayed, just could not take the strain of a big piece of equipment like this crane. It was stuck there for a very long time because normally, something like this would be lifted out with a crane, but....... yes, you get it. You can see the beginnings of a block and tackle assembly being erected above the machine. They hoisted it high enough to rebuild the structure underneath it and then gently lowered it and drove it away.

There was no shortage of spectacular rivers and waterfalls. Could it have something to do with the average rainfall? This one was just beyond Martin Valley and a ways down a logging road. A pleasant level walk on a nice afternoon.

More Important Visitors

We began to wonder why our little town was becoming such a center of attention. We had just had the Prime Minister of Canada visit us and now a big Canadian Battleship came cruising into the harbour one day.

We had very little notice but those of us who were not working, gathered on the dock and got our first and only look at Canada's Governor General, Roland Mitchener. He was flanked by a couple of Members of Parliament and I can only remember Paul St. Pierre. Can someone help me with the other gentleman's name? I cannot remember a word of any of the speeches, but I am sure it was one of those "great land of ours" speeches.

It was not but a few minutes later that the imposing warship turned on its tail and headed back to sea. I remember feeling like the world had not forgotten us after all. The loneliness of isolation was broken for a brief period of time and I remember the people staying on the dock and watching until the ship turned the corner in Cousin's Inlet and headed up Dean Channel toward King Island. It perhaps had only been a dream and folks around us slowly departed without so much as a sound. It was back to same old, same old, and the outside world would have to carry on without us.

Friends

The Klassen's were one of only a few families left from the Gospel Fellowship Hall days. The town seemed to be emptying out and it was good to have a group we got together with and got along with quite well. Here we are having a picnic on a rare rainless day.

We had purchased our own boat which we could take to water easily either above or below the dam. After a while we preferred fresh water. There was an oily goo on the rocks, if you look closely, from a barge spill not long before. We had a difficult time getting it out of our clothes and off the boat. Here Neil is looking a little concerned and just a bit cramped too.

It was great to introduce, in person, the girl I had been writing to and telling the gang about for so long. She fit right in and was loved by all after the first meeting. Far left, Larry and Rosanne Rae. He worked in hydro and they had two very cute kids. They moved into the Gospel Hall after my sister and her husband moved back to Vancouver to continue their education at UBC. Next to Larry is Charlie Clotworthy. He worked in Tech Control and was above me as an inspector. During the mill slowdown, his job was eliminated and to stay in town, he took a demotion and I ended up training him in a junior position below me. He was a war vet and had suffered shell shock. He was a proper English gentleman but when his buttons were pushed he took on an almost evil persona and he frightened me many times. The Klassen's and then us, new kids on the rainy rock.

Showing Her The Ropes

All the time I used to spend writing letters, we could now spend together and we were outdoors whenever it was not raining and many times when it was. This was the road to Martin Valley where there were a number of private residences. The road was narrow, especially along this section which was wooden. The following spring, we were walking down this lane just as the Salmon Berry bushes were in blume and we found oursevles in the midst of a humming bird migration. The air was buzzing with the tiny creatures as they were stopping for a break among the blossoms on their way further north. They were as thick as flies and I recall that as a car drove by, they were bouncing off the grill and bumper. I picked one up and for the first time in my life I was able to examine one close-up. It was limp and warm and I saw that it was a Ruby Throated Humming Bird. The delicate body and intricate feather colourations were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I flagged down the next car and let them know to drive a little more slowly.

This was the lake behind the dam. There was row of boathouses that were left stranded, high and dry, as we experienced one of the driest winters in Ocean Falls' history. Normally all those stumps in the background were under several feet of water.

But the rains soon returned, as they always did. Here, all the floodgates are open and it was with a mighty roar that all that water cascaded down to the rocks below. Imagine too that the penstocks (huge pipes diverting water to the mill for industry and for hydo-electric power generation) were taking as much water again, so the total volume was immense, all supplied by rainfall and runoff from Baldy Mountain.

This was the natural part of the original falls. It was always a thrill to go up to the dam. Anywhere else, it would have been a big tourist attraction. When the rain was heavy, the background noise of the falls was always heard, throughout the town. There was never a concern about the dam bursting because the town sat high and dry. The mill, perhaps, would have been in some trouble, but then only at high tide.

A Stormy Beginning

We sorted through our wedding gifts and decided what to bring with us on our journey back to Ocean Falls. I had purchased some used furniture previously so what we needed to bring was small appliances and things of that nature. We already knew we would not be going back for Christmas so we had to be careful to bring everything we would need.

It was late October when we set sail from Ballantyne pier and it was a most beautiful sunny late autumn day, as you can tell from the photos. Lis had flown to Ocean Falls back in June so this was her first taste of the alternate transportation to the north coast. It was wonderful and we were so happy to be embarking on our new life together. Little did we know that only hours later, we would both want to die.

There is a stretch of open ocean that must be sailed, north of Vancouver Island, before once again hitting the shelter of the inlets of the rugged coast line. It was storm season and we did hit a storm. Or should I say that a storm hit us. It came on very suddenly and I was amazed to see the waves coming right over the bow of the freighter as it ploughed through the heavy seas. At first it was an adventure and challenge just to stay upright as we navigated our way around the ship. But when we were confined to our cabin and could only lay on our bunks, the sea sickness came over us in waves as big as the ones just outside the porthole. The violent motion was relentless and the nausea was all that dominated our thinking. There was no escaping it as we lay there, moaning and groaning. I heard the familiar dinner bell, calling passengers to dinner. Food was the last thing on my mind, but I was curious to see if we were the only ones lying low. As I staggered to the dining room, the smell of something frying caused me to heave, but not before I glanced through the glass of the swinging doors. There was not a soul in there. Aha! Even the captain and crew are not feeling well. That should have made me feel better but it did not. It was the first time in my life I literally wanted to die. It would be the only way to get away from the relentless rocking, up an down, up and down. I cared about nothing, not even my beautiful bride, lying there in a fetal position, green faced and moaning. We made an oath that we would never again take the boat either in or out of Ocean Falls, that is, if we would survive this trip.

My Last Single Summer

Front Street looking from the theater toward the docks on Cousin's Inlet. Today, there is nothing here but the derelict Martin Inn at the end of the street. The roads that were not wooden, were concrete.

There were few distractions that summer, as I waited for the calendar pages to flip. There was always the rumour mill to keep one entertained and informed and that summer the talk of Ocean Falls having numbered days was prolific. That is why I was completely baffled when another rumour began circulating. The government was going to build a new school to replace the one that had just burned to the ground. Ordinarily, this would be a good thing, but I could not see the point in spending $1 million on a new structure for only a few years of use. In those days, that was a lot of money. The tilt-up concrete structure had to be barged up from Vancouver and then of course, it had to be equipped and furnished. Sure enough. By the end of summer, it was completed. It still stands today, but I do not know what it is used for. I heard that at one time it was home to a fish hatchery operation. Strangely enough, it is still referred to as the 'new school'. It is now 40 years old.
Another hi-lite was a visit by a very popular and famous politician. Pierre Elliot Trudeau came to Ocean Falls! It was in the days of 'Trudeaumania' and I caught a first hand glimpse of what that was all about. He came by plane for a quick town tour and a speech to be delivered in the theater. I, along with many others, waited at the doors to the theater because we knew he had to eventually walk right past us. We were not disappointed. I was amazed at how short he was and I could not figure why the women were screaming like groupies at a rock concert. He was not at all good looking. I was only a few feet from him and got a picture with my new camera. I would post it if 1. I could find it. 2. I care. I have never been a fan, but that is for another post.

Understanding Unions

This catamaran was one of the many home built boats. Many people had a boat both on Link Lake (fresh water) and one on the 'salt chuck'. Fishing was big!

I tried to concentrate on work for the next few months. I have always been an avid reader and now I was finding myself reading both during work and on my time off. There were many break-downs in the mill and although I had to be there for the whole shift, there was not always a lot to do. It was rare for all four paper machines to be running in fine form.

I was learning more about the union mentality most mill workers were operating on. I was quite frankly disgusted with the attitude that the company was the enemy. Not all employees were of this mindset, but it was very common. I had chosen to not attend union meetings and that resulted in a fine every month. It was a small price to pay to keep from hearing the constant rhetoric about how the company owed us this and owed us that. I always wondered why some of those guys didn't just up and leave town if they were so disgruntled. Many had been born there and had worked there all their lives and had no thought for the fact that if it were not for the company, they would not even be there.

One night I learned about job descriptions. I was caught up with my duties and was watching a new recruit trying to keep up with his workload on one of those rare times when all the machines were running full tilt. His job was to push the finished rolls of paper to a scale where they were weighed and labeled. He was getting behind and the backlog was interfering with the winders. I went to help him with the thought that if I helped him push rolls for five minutes, he would be caught up and the rough, burly winder man would get off his case. I was pushing the third roll when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to face Dick Haas, the winder man with an attitude. He jabbed my chest with his thick finger and said, "What the h**l do you think you are doing?"

"I am helping Mike get caught up so you guys stop yelling at him and calling him names." I was sure my altruistic motives would calm him down.

With his powerful hands, arms and shoulders, he grabbed my shirt under my chin and hoisted me off the ground. I suddenly recalled that he was one of those guys staring me down at the union meeting where Gordon and I were the only dissenting voters. I would be telling a lie if I said I was not afraid.

"If Mike cannot do his &*$# job, the &%&^$^&# company has to hire another union brother to help him. Now you get back into your cubbyhole and do your own &^$&^#@ job."

Poor Mike was more frightened than me because I could escape but he had to stay out there and endure more verbal abuse. Moments later there was a paper break and Mike got his reprieve. We were both very relieved that Dick was very occupied the rest of the night trying to problem solve on his machine. Up to that point, Dick and I had treated each other coolly, but after that there was an animosity about him that made me very happy when we drew different shifts. Ever since that incident, I have disliked muscle shirts and tattoos of anchors.

Waiting

We spent the rest of my holiday making plans and spending time with family and friends and spreading the news of our engagement. It was a good time, as I recall, but I knew that I had a long haul ahead of me. What was waiting for me in Ocean Falls was a good job, but a hotel room and no family or really close friends.

Life became very routine for me once again as I returned. I got almost daily up-dates on how the wedding plans were proceeding and I felt at such a disadvantage being so far away and having to leave all the work to Lis. But then again, had I been home, would I have really had a say in the flower arrangement for the 'head table' at the wedding reception? Increasingly, I was looking forward to being married, but somewhat dreading the wedding. I was recognising that each time I went 'home', I was experiencing some culture shock. Would I be a total social misfit by October?

One of my recollections of that summer of waiting was an incident at the mill. Everybody had to cross the bridge to get to work and just as you approached the bridge, there was a big sign giving the latest safety information, days without an injury, accident, death, etc. It was always the talk of the mill when something happened. These incidents usually happened when I was not there but that was not always to be.

In sight of my paper testing station, was a full view of newsprint Machine #2. When ever there was a 'break' or paper tear on one of the machines, the whole mill would shake, rattle and roll. I remember one time seeing a chunk of concrete fall from the ceiling. The noise and vibrations were very intimidating. They were having trouble with #2 machine and the paper kept breaking. Each time this happened, large sheets and chunks of paper would run through the stack, a vertical series of large steel rollers that compressed and finished the paper as it came out of the driers on huge rollers. There was a catwalk at the upper reaches of the stack where the machine tender could inspect the process and also where he had to be when the paper was re-wound into the stack after a break. I stepped out of the lab to get a better view, but always keeping well back to give the guys plenty of room to work. Time was critical because huge amounts of ruined paper would stack up under the machine when it was coming out of the machine in a broken state. I was watching the guy on the catwalk. There were large wads of paper caught in the stack and it was jumping like crazy. Machine tenders always carried a mahogany stick with them, similar to a billy club. They used this to tap the roll of paper as it wound onto the spool and they could tell by the sound of things if the paper was winding too tight or too loose. Adjustments on the tension would then be made. The guy on the stack was trying to push loose the wads of paper with his stick when suddenly the wad of paper flew out and the stick was being pulled in by the spinning spools of steel. He hung on tight, not wanting to lose the stick and his hand disappeared into the space between two steel spools. I was watching him at just the moment when he jerked his hand back. There was no stick, but no fingers either, only blood spurting onto the white paper making it look even worse than it was.

There was not even an attempt to retrieve the fingers because they would be smashed beyond recognition and would have immediately fallen into the 'beaters' below the machine where excess paper fell to be re-pulped. The young man was taken to the first aid station and I never saw him again.

I remember the big burly winderman coming into my lab shortly after the machine got running again and flippantly saying that this is what happens when you are 'stupid'.

I was hoping that I would not be 'stupid'. Would Lis still marry me if I was missing a body part or two?

Martin Inn

The sad day came when I said good-bye to my family. I knew I would miss them and I certainly did as the next few months dragged by. I started out my bachelor days house sitting for Neil Klassen and his family while they were on holidays. He was an instrument mechanic and was also one of of the few families attending our little church group. I did not enjoy staying in the big house by myself, but again, managed the day to day affairs of living, well enough. I knew I was not cut out to be a bachelor. It was just too lonely not having people around and living in the same house. I thought those hippies in those communes were pretty smart. No loneliness there! When the Klassen's returned, I took my few belongings and checked into the Martin Inn. I remember that it cost me very little money to stay there. I was assigned a room on the third floor looking out over a parking lot and beyond to my old house now standing empty up on the hill. My alarm clock kept me regimented and scheduled. Work, eat, sleep. One consolation was the good food in the cafeteria. I could simply charge my meals to my employee number and it would be deducted from my paycheck every two weeks. I could even pick up a bag lunch for work. It was a necessity because my room had no kitchen facilities or refrigerator. It was a typical hotel room with a bed, desk, dresser of drawers, and a bathroom. My linens were changed every few days and it was reasonably quiet as there were few residents and indeed, a large section of the hotel was closed off. One other thing I remember well was the lounge with TV. We only got one channel, sometimes, so there was no arguing over football versus hockey and most times, the guys just hung out and talked or played cards. It was a decent atmosphere, but I was so glad it was only temporary. July was around the corner and I was heading to Vancouver again.

Trauma and Transitions

In 1907 this site was chosen for a mill because of the natural waterfall from Link Lake into the ocean. All that was needed for an ample supply of fresh clean water and hydro electric power was the construction of the dam. With all the rain, the water supply was so great that after usage for power and mill operation, the abundant water still overflowed the dam.

I was losing my family soon. My sister, niece, and brother-in-law were soon leaving. The hall/house would be abandoned as there was no use for it and empty buildings were becoming common in town. We almost lost it entirely one night. There was a steam whistle on the roof of the steam plant at the mill that whistled several times of day, mainly for shift changes and at noon. There was also a three blast signal if there was a fire in the mill and four blast whistle if there was fire in town. When we heard the blast from the whistle, we dismissed it as another false alarm or maybe fire practice for the volunteer brigade. We went to the living room window which had a commanding view of most of the town and noticed an orange glow coming from just below us. The school, one of the largest buildings in town, other than the mill itself, was right in front of our house, just down from us and to the left. We stared in disbelief as the fire grew and it was soon apparent that the old wooden structure was no match for the fire fighters. As the fire rapidly grew, we suddenly realised that we were grave danger if we did not get out of our house quite quickly. We were uphill from the fire, on a steep slope, and the wooden road and stairway that joined the streets was a perfect 'fuse' for the fire to creep upward. There was only one way out of our place and that was down the road right behind the school. Failing that, we would have to crawl up a very steep and rugged slope into the bush above 10th street. Doing that with a babe in arms was not likely. We quickly gathered a handful of valuable and some milk for the the baby and rushed out of the house. As I climbed the stairs from my room to the upper level and exit door, I touched the walls and they were already getting hot, on the inside!
We escaped without incident and stayed with friends just down the street until the wee hours of the morning and things had cooled off. In the light of day, we saw that some of the windows were cracked from the heat and the paint was blistered on the corner closest to the school. I cannot remember if it was raining that night, it probably was, but something saved the building. The question is, for what? The best thing was that our possessions, for what they were, remained intact. There was talk, the next few days, that a set of twin boys, not wanting their exam marks to get out, torched the school. I would say their strategy worked, at least temporarily, because the school was completely destroyed.