IT HAPPENS - OF COURSE IT DOES - AS TIME GOES BY, MEMORIES FADE
TRUTHFULLY, I THINK I DECIDED TO BECOME AN HISTORIAN, JUST SO THAT I COULD, AS A FRILL OF PROFESSION, KEEP REPEATING THE PAST, IN PRINT, SO THAT IN A SMALL WAY, I COULD KEEP IT ALIVE. I AM HOPELESSLY MIRED IN THE NOSTALGIA OF THE HISTORY I'VE LIVED; AND IT GOES WELL BEYONG THIS. AS I KEEP DREAMING ABOUT BEING IN AN ENGLISH PUB SOMETIME IN THE 1700'S, I'M ASSUMING IT HAS A LOT TO DO WITH THOSE OTHER LIVES I'VE LIVED. I'M A ROMANTIC AND A SENTIMENTALIST, BUT MOST OF ALL, I'M ARDENT IN MY BELIEF, THAT SOME ASPECTS OF HISTORY, I FIND OF CONSIDERABLE IMPORTANCE, ARE BEING LOST SIMPLY BECAUSE OF IGNORANCE. I KNOW, I KNOW, THE WORLD DOESN'T ANSWER TO A GUY LIKE ME.
FOR EXAMPLE, IT ALWAYS BOTHERED SUZANNE, WHEN A FORMER TEACHER PASSED AWAY, AND MANY OF THE YOUNGER TEACHING STAFF.....AND THE STAFF GENERALLY, DIDN'T KNOW WHO THE PERSON WAS ANYWAY. I ALWAYS FELT IT SHOULD BE NECESSARY TO KEEP UP ON THOSE BIOGRAPHIES, LONG INTO RETROSPECT, DESPITE THE FACT A TEACHER HAS RETIRED. IT REALLY, AND PROFOUNDLY BOTHERED ME, THAT WAYLAND DREW'S PASSING, DIDN'T RAISE MORE ATTENTION IN THE MUSKOKA SCHOOLS AT THE TIME. IT BOTHERS ME EVEN MORE TODAY, THAT MOST TEACHERS IN THE SCHOOL BOARD, DON'T RECALL HIS NAME AT ALL, OR THE BOOKS HE WROTE, WITH LEGENDARY CANADIAN PHOTOGRAPHER, BRUCE LITTELJOHN. "SUPERIOR; THE HAUNTED SHORE," IS ONE OF THOSE LANDMARK BOOKS, THAT IS IN REPRINT FOR A REASON......AND THAT WOULD BE THE RESULT OF ITS OVERALL EXCELLENCE IN COVERING ITS TOPIC.
IN THE PAST FEW WEEKS, IN OUR LITTLE ANTIQUE SHOP CONVERSATIONS, WITH SOME HISTORICAL ENTHUSIASTS, I'VE BEEN CONFOUNDED BY THE FACT THESE "LOCALS" HAD NO KNOWLEDGE OF WAYLAND, KNOWN TO HIS FRIENDS AS "BUSTER," OR THE FACT THAT HE HELP FOUND THE BRACEBRIDGE HISTORICAL SOCIETY AND WOODCHESTER VILLA AND MUSEUM. HE TAUGHT FOR QUITE A FEW YEARS AT BRACEBRIDGE AND MUSKOKA LAKES SECONDARY SCHOOL, AND HE INSPIRED HUNDREDS OF STUDENTS TO PUSH THEMSELVES TO ACHIEVE GOALS IN HISTORY, ENGLISH AND NATIVE STUDIES.....AND NEVER TURNED HIS BACK, ONCE A STUDENT GRADUATED..... REMAINING INTERESTED IN HOW THEY HAD FARED IN CONTINUING EDUCATION AND ONWARD IN THEIR CAREERS. HE WROTE NUMEROUS NOVELS, INCLUDING "HALFWAY MAN," AND "WABENO FEAST," AS WELL AS A BOOK WITH MR. LITTELJOHN ON THE ST. LAWRENCE RIVER. HE HAD MANY FRIENDS IN HIGH PLACES DURING HIS PROFESSIONAL LIFE, AS FAR OFF AS HOLLYWOOD, WHERE HE WROTE BOOKS FROM MOVIE SCRIPTS......SUCH AS "WILLOW," AND EVEN "CORVETTE SUMMER," IF MEMORY SERVES. HE WAS A GIFTED WRITER AND INCREDIBLY VERSATILE.
I REFUSE, DURING THE REMAINDER OF MY LIFE, TO LET NAMES LIKE HIS, SLIP INTO THE QUIET OBLIVION, OF THE COMMUNITY HE HELPED IN SO MANY WAYS. IF HE PUT HIS HAND ON MY SHOULDER, MY GOSH, THERE WAS NO GREATER HONOR, THAN IF I HAD, JUST THEN, BEEN HANDED AN ORDER OF CANADA. HIS SUPPORT WASN'T GIVEN WITHOUT WHOLE HEARTED ENTHUSIASM, AND THERE WERE MANY TIMES, I WANTED TO BESTOW CONGRATULATIONS BACK TO HIM.....BUT I FELT IT WASN'T RIGHT.....THAT AN INFERIOR SHOULD DO SUCH A THING.....THAT IT MIGHT BE CONSIDERED INSULTING TO HIM. OF COURSE I WAS WRONG. VERY WRONG. I THINK NOW, IT WOULD HAVE MEANT A LOT TO HIM.
WHEN HE CONGRATULATED TIM DUVERNET AND I, AFTER THE PUBLICATION OF OUR BOOK, "MEMORIES AND IMAGES," IN THE EARLY 1980'S, IT WAS, FOR ME, AS IF WE HAD JUST SOLD OUT EVERY COPY. I JUST DIDN'T CARE ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE, BECAUSE I WAS IN SUCH AWE OF HIS WRITING ACCOMPLISHMENTS. I FEEL BAD NOW THAT I DIDN'T HONOR HIM WITH THESE FEELINGS, WHEN I HAD THE CHANCE....BECAUSE IT IS WHAT WAS IN MY HEART.
I'VE WRITTEN THIS NOTATION, MANY TIMES IN THE PAST, BUT I FEEL, THAT SOMEHOW I CAN MAKE UP FOR WHAT I DIDN'T DO THEN, BY ACKNOWLEDGING HIS INFLUENCE ON MY WORK TODAY. IF I'M WANDERING THROUGH THE BOG, ON THESE AUGUST NIGHTS, I PONDER WHAT HE WOULD SEE AS INSPIRATION, OUT ON THE MISTY MOOR, THAT HE MIGHT SCULPT INTO SHORT STORY, OR DESCRIPTIVE OVERVIEW. I TRY AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE, TO PAY ATTENTION TO WHAT IS HAPPENING AROUND ME, AND THE SOUNDS OF THE FOREST......THE WIND WHISPERING THROUGH THE EVERGREEN BOUGHS; THE BIRDS STILL CHIRPING IN THE OVERHEAD BRANCHES......AND WHAT HIS INTERPRETATION WOULD BE OF THIS SCENE AS ONE OF POETIC SOLITUDE; OR PLACE OF SPIRITUAL REVITALIZATION......OR JUST A BEAUTIFUL SOJOURN IN THE BOSUM OF NATURE.
I WILL NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR INSISTING THAT PEOPLE WHO KNOW ME, KNOW ALSO OF THE PEOPLE WHO HAVE INSPIRED ME.......TO QUEST THIS WORLD FOR BEAUTIFUL THINGS, AND ETHEREAL PLACES, AND THEN WRITE ABOUT THEIR REALITIES, MODEST OR PROFOUND.......GOOD OR BAD.
I OFTEN HEAR ABOUT WRITING ASSOCIATIONS HERE IN MUSKOKA, AND THERE ARE TIMES, WHEN I CASUALLY PONDER IF IT MIGHT BE WORTHWHILE VISITING SOMETIME. THEN I WILL THINK BACK TO THE TUTORING I RECEIVED, FROM SOME VERY TALENTED WRITERS, LIKE BUSTER DREW, AND HONESTLY......I COULD NEVER CORRUPT WHAT I HAVE AS PURE EXPERIENCE......FOR FEAR THAT ONE OF THE MEMBERS WOULD NOT KNOW HIS NAME......AND I WOULD IMPLODE UPON THEIR MEETING, AN UNFORTUNATE TIRADE OF BIOGRAPHICAL PROTOCOLS, AND HISTORICAL PRECEDENTS; AND LIKE GETTING KICKED OUT OF CUB SCOUTS WHEN I WAS A KID, GET ASKED TO LEAVE.....ON ACCOUNT OF BAD BEHAVIOR.
THERE ARE A LOT OF THINGS I SEE TODAY, THAT ARE UNFORTUNATE SIGNS OF THE TIMES.....AND THINGS YET TO COME. I READ A COLLEAGUE'S COLUMN IN THE LOCAL PRESS TODAY, THAT IS ONLY THREE PARAGRAPHS IN LENGTH.....WHEN, FOR COMMUNITY CONTENT, (THAT IT HAS ALWAYS BEEN DEDICATED) , IT ALWAYS WARRANTED EVERY WORD THE WRITER FOUND NECESSARY TO IMPRINT ON THE KEYBOARD. PRETTY SOON, THE COLUMN WILL BE WHITTLED, BY EDITORIAL SAVAGERY, TO JUST A HEAD-SHOT OF THE WRITER, AND NOTHING ELSE. WELL SIR, I CAN SAY, THAT I READ IT THOROUGHLY THIS WEEK, BUT HAVE TO ADMIT THAT IT WASN'T QUITE AS FULFILLING AS IN THE OLD DAYS, WHEN WE ALL HAD FIFTEEN OR MORE PARAGRAPHS OF THE COLUMNIST'S WORK TO ENJOY. CHANGES. WHAT CAN YOU DO? WELL, FOR ONE THING, KEEP HISTORY ALIVE TO MAKE UP FOR WHAT WE DON'T HAVE TODAY!
What I learned from author-historian Wayland Drew
I believe it was the winter of 1978. The first meeting of the soon-to-be Bracebridge Historical Society, was unofficially held at the home of well known Canadian author Wayland Drew. It was a meeting between a citizen, this writer, who was interested in preserving an historic building in the Town of Bracebridge, (an octagonal home constructed in the 1880’s by former woolen mill owner Henry Bird)……and the second party, at the informal meeting, Mr. Drew, was in my mind, a writer-historian of considerable national reputation, (eg. the landmark text entitled, “Superior, The Haunted Shore.”) That’s correct. I’m so very proud to write that Wayland and I made up the first full planning meeting of the soon to be elected historical society. As an aspiring writer, I was in awe that he would give me a private audience to discuss the possibility of forming a local historical society, to implement a conservation strategy to save Woodchester Villa (the Bird House). I had been attempting to drum up support for a citizen-driven initiative to create a community museum, and Wayland must have thought I had at least a spark of credibility to follow through on the project. He called me over to his house for a discussion about all the possibilities of saving this particular Victorian era home. We worked well together and our plans merged to give rise to a new historical preservation group, and eventually, with a huge commitment of citizen involvement, a newly restored town museum would open on that pinnacle of land above the cataract of Bracebridge Falls. My first position was “Recording Secretary,” which I conducted poorly, but rebounded some years later as President and then site manager. Much of the credit goes to Wayland for negotiating so well for the Historical Society generally, and always being its ambassador.
This editorial segment is not a biographical study of my writer-associate, Wayland Drew, or a re-telling of the work of the Bracebridge Historical Society. There is a story about Wayland I have often repeated in environmental presentations ever since, about the importance of listening and learning from expertise. And while we might all believe we’re the best experts we’ve ever met, I was to learn up close and personal how little I knew about the bigger picture of conservation. This is a story that’s of great importance to this on-line inventory of blog editorials because it is at the root of every entry in one way or another.
Several years into the museum’s operation, a situation arose with the town about the necessity of removing numerous large trees lining the old laneway at the front of Woodchester. If memory serves, the problem was that if any emergency vehicle had required access to the building, via this riverside route, the narrow artery would not allow safe, unobstructed passage particularly for the larger fire-fighting equipment. It probably was the case as well that the large border trees would cause great difficulty for snow removal, important for emergency vehicle access as well. The town public works department had recommended the removal of those trees that limited the width of the driveway, and the recommendation did not sit well with Wayland and several others. At the time Wayland was no longer a director of the Historical Society, but was part of a delegation that attended to object to the cutting.
I sat as a voting director.
As I recall now, Wayland made a sensible, balanced, gentle argument to spare the trees by making accommodations with a rear parking area, offering adequate clearance for the larger emergency vehicles. I don’t remember all the details of that lengthy afternoon meeting, except that I acted as the part of “ass” very well. I shot down Wayland without mercy, suggesting that emergency services access to all corners of the site greatly outweighed the scenic splendor of a few large evergreens to be expended. He wasn’t against making provisions for emergency services in numerous other ways, including carving out some of the embankment, all alternatives being well thought out and workable I might add. He was adamant the trees, having been there for a good part of a century, and being an important part of the Woodchester and Muskoka ambience, deserved to be spared the teeth of the industrial strength chainsaw.
I have no idea now what really generated my opposition to alternatives that would spare the trees. I know it was largely a case of ignorance on my part, and a general immaturity, that I would ever have challenged someone who made such a sensible, researched, community minded presentation. I can still recall the shocked look on his face when I cast forward a resounding reprimand for even thinking about any compromise that would limit entrance to the property; and that afterall, “they’re just trees…..they’ll grow back.” I had shown great disrespect to a person who I had always admired in both historical preservation and conservation of the environment. I voted against the conservation of those trees but the good news is my position wasn’t on the winning side. I believe a compromise was reached and although some trees may have been removed, (I don’t remember exactly the reduced cull), Wayland’s argument made sense to the group at large. Although Wayland never said a word about my indifference to the matter of Woodchester’s natural heritage, he didn’t have to say anything at all. It was an awkwardness in our conservations from that point on but always the result of the unfortunate weight of my own conscience. I should have been wise enough to realize that if Wayland Drew had thought it important enough to interrupt his busy day to discuss several trees in peril, it must be a landmark situation deserving the most clear thinking appraisal in response.
A short time before Wayland passed away, after a lengthy illness, we found ourselves both sitting comfortably in the cool shade of a perfect summer day, during a writer’s gathering held ironically at Woodchester Villa. It was a modest, unplanned homecoming to Woodchester, dealing with writing this time, not history, with nary a chainsaw rattle within ear-shot. I took a turn at the podium to read one of my short stories and following the presentation, Wayland left his seat to congratulate me on the subject of my recitation, a fellow writer, (and student from Bracebridge High School) named Paul Rimstead, well known Toronto Sun columnist who had died a short while earlier. It seemed Wayland and I agreed upon the great talent of the “Rimmer,” and that the world would be disadvantaged without his daily barbs and insights.
At the time Wayland knew his life was being seriously shortened, and as it turned out this was the last time I would talk to this amazing, talented gentleman. I can remember wanting so badly to offer a sincere, belated apology for the great tree-debate of once but foolish pride got in the path of an honest, heartfelt regret. I let him walk away without clearing my conscience about a ill-conceived, childish stubbornness that very nearly cost this beautiful tree-lined property even more of its historic, natural charm.
I have attempted many times since Wayland’s death to make amends with the issue, as if expended ink can make up for what I didn’t accomplish in person. Wayland’s passionate appeal for environmental conservation did however, over so many decades of re-consideration, generate within this writer the first and enduring interest to get involved, and speak out about the reckless destruction of forests, the infilling of wetlands, and the damning realities of urban sprawl across the entire Muskoka hinterland.
I wish I had listened more patiently to the sage advisories of the good Mr. Drew. He wasn’t wrong, and his concerns were just as valid then as today. I seldom if ever visit a Muskoka woodland for a hike, that I don’t tribute the experience and enjoyment, in some way, to the inspiration I received from a true friend of Muskoka. My only wish, as a writer, is that I could one day be as effective and enlightened an author, as the man who challenged me to take up the pen in the first place.
Thank you Wayland Drew. The experiences you shared have not been forgotten, the lessons you taught have not diminished; your passion to protect the environment, is the passion now carried forth by your students.
No comments:
Post a Comment