You know how you sometimes rundown a mental checklist on your way to work or play? Have I called so-and-so? Have I got all my ducks in order?
This week, on my way from Halifax Airport to deliver an audio-visual presentation at a bookstore in LaHave, Nova Scotia, I suddenly wondered if I’d asked the bookstore proprietor to supply a digital projector for my talk.
“No,” said the LaHave bookstore owner. “We don’t have one.”
When I stopped kicking myself over my stupidity for forgetting such an obvious piece of equipment, friends with whom I was staying – former Claremont residents Celia Klemenz and John Frechette – smiled and grabbed their cellphones. Within a couple of seconds, John and Celia had opened a local bulletin board website and were asking everybody online if they knew where a digital projector might be found.
“The Mahone Bay Bulletin Board is super helpful,” Frechette said. “Whether you’re looking for a musician to jam with, a piece of equipment to borrow, or a ride to Halifax, it’s where you go to find things.”
That’s just one of the ways my faith in small communities has been reinforced over the past few days. While we waited for the bulletin board to yield an answer to our search, my hosts took me to a local craft brewery and pub. In addition to a vast array of locally brewed beers on tap (with names such as Storm Surge, Nun on the Run and Jeezus Murphy), Saltbox Brewery has the added attraction of a unique homegrown musical phenomenon.
It’s called the weekly Celtic Session. Virtually every Sunday since 2015 (pandemic years excepted), local musicians have gathered at the brew pub to play as an ad hoc but very cohesive group (of fiddlers, flutists, and mandolin, guitar and bodhran players) entertaining pub patrons with a solid two-hour ceilidh.
More than a jam session, the Sunday performances began when international fiddling sensation Eilidh Campbell settled in Mahone Bay and invited students and others to play every week.
“It’s what drew me to here,” admits my host, John Frechette. “It’s that special.”
Economists and demographers routinely point to key traits that bind members of a successful community together. One publication on small-town life I found, recently pointed out that municipalities that share an awareness for local entrepreneurship… that work with local schools, training youth (and encouraging them to stay in their birth communities)… that focus on niche industries such as tourism and recreation… that recognize the importance of the arts, museums and culture… and that reach out to neighbours… these communities ultimately survive and thrive.
Lest one think community spirit only exists on a ledger or at a Sunday afternoon ceilidh, while I visited Mahone Bay this past week, I suddenly faced another problem. My rented car suddenly suffered a flat tire, more than an hour’s drive from the airport rental kiosk. I dialed the number of the car rental’s emergency road service.
The pleasant lady on the phone noted all the details of the problem, but clearly had no concept of where I was in relation to either the rental firm (100 kilometres away) or her service desk.
“We’ll give you a reference number and get the company to work out an assistance plan,” she told me.
“Exactly where are you located?” I asked her.
“In Texas,” she said.
“Well, I’m in Nova Scotia… you know, in that big country a little north of you,” I commented facetiously. I realized fixing my flat wasn’t going to happen with this call for help. Meantime my host called CAA, and a serviceman arrived within the hour to deal with the flat. If I’d waited for Texas to fix it, I fear I’d be waiting there yet.
During my few days here on Nova Scotia’s south shore, I’ve learned that Mahone Bay residents understand the concepts of commitment and community spirit.
The town boasts a population of only 900, and yet each fall during its Scarecrow Festival, residents build and display as many as 350 scarecrows all over town: it’s a tourist attraction. Perhaps more revealing of its sense of participation, I learned that Mahone Bay regularly gets upwards of a 70 percent turnout each municipal election.
Oh yes, about that digital projector I needed? Partly through the local online bulletin board and because someone knew that the public library in nearby Lunenburg Academy had one, I was down the road (in spite of my flat) to pick up a projector to deliver my presentation… thanks to a small town with people who proudly give more than they take.