Without a word from our sponsor

J. Frank Willis, interviews miner involved in rescue of men underground. April 1936.

He didn’t look much like a pioneer. But J. Frank Willis sure was. Dressed in tall boots, a long coat and scarf, wearing a fedora – typical of the 1930s – he was a reporter. Hearing news of a coal-mine rescue underway in a remote corner of Nova Scotia, he made his way to a place called Moose River.

There, he found the only available land telephone line and got permission to broadcast from the mouth of the mine. Miners were trapped 50 metres underground and their would-be rescuers had been digging for days to reach them. Willis held his primitive microphone in front of one of the rescuers.

“Here, ladies and gentlemen, is the captain of the rescue team from Stellerton, Nova Scotia,” Willis said.

“Hello Stellerton,” the captain said. “We’re getting’ along fine. We’ll have those men up in a couple of hours.” (more…)

New Normal or B-Western

What normal looks like now. cbc.ca

Some friends and I got together this week. We were abiding by the no-more-than-10-in-a-bubble rule. Actually, there were only about five of us, and we weren’t even in the same neighbourhood. We’d gathered – as so many of us do these days – for a Zoom chat. After we’d caught up on all the latest, somebody sighed and wondered when we might all gather at a favourite watering hole again. There was a pause.

“Geez, I wish things were back to normal,” one friend said.

There was general agreement that sitting face-to-face, having the chance to give hugs to family and good friends, or enjoy a cool one on a patio together really would be great to have back. Later, however, I concluded there’s a great deal about the old normal I’d rather not return to. (more…)

Canadians and a Dame

Handshake with a Dame. London, 1995.

The occasion was our 20th wedding anniversary. As a gift to my wife Jayne and me, that spring of 1995, my parents had bestowed airfare to the U.K. We’d barely unpacked in London, when we saw on the news that one of our planned tourist destinations – Winston Churchill’s underground Cabinet War Rooms – was the to be visited by Dame Vera Lynn the next morning.

At a press conference, she’d be launching a fundraiser to assist needy veterans. Jayne and I decided to try to “accidentally” arrive there about the same time. I think we were first in line to tour the site the next morning.

“We understand that Dame Vera will be here,” I shared with the commissionaire at the ticket wicket.

“Oh, really?” the commissionaire kidded. “And who might you be?”

“Just a couple of curious Canadians,” I offered.

“Well, how appropriate. Today, Canadians get in free,” and he directed us – stunned but delighted – directly in. (more…)

We need grads, not geniuses

The faceless, helpless time writing Grade 13 Departmentals.

They crammed us into a single hall at the school. Often it was the high-school gymnasium filled with rows and rows of movable desks and chairs. We were allowed pencils, an eraser, a ruler and limitless sheets of what we used to call “foolscap” paper on which to write our answers. In came an adjudicator, who announced the name of the exam, the time available to complete it and strict guidelines for decorum during the exam.

“If we catch you cheating,” the adjudicator announced, “we will disqualify your mark. You will fail the term.”

In my day – back in the 1960s – these meat-grinding assemblies to test the cumulative knowledge of students at year’s-end were known as “Departmentals.” (more…)

Eyes and ears on crime

My neighbour was out walking his dog, recently. We got talking and he asked me if I generally locked the doors on the family cars in the driveway overnight. I asked why. He said early one morning, recently, he opened his front door to let the dog out and saw several young people pulling on car doors across the street, testing to see if any of the cars had been left unlocked. I asked if the kids knew he was watching them.

“Sure,” he said. “I called out to them, and they stopped in their tracks.”

I should point out that my neighbour’s dog also noticed the youngsters fiddling with the car doors too. But my neighbour didn’t send his dog chasing after the intruders (although she might have licked them to death). He had a more valuable tool in his crime-fighting kit. (more…)

Owning gun violence

Najma Ahmed, trauma surgeon and founder of Canadian Doctors for Protection from Guns. CBC.ca

They call it “code orange” in Toronto hospitals. And trauma surgeon Najma Ahmed found herself in the middle of it late one night in July last summer. When she received the code signal, she said she dashed to St. Michael’s Hospital in Toronto in minutes. She passed a long line of ambulances on her way to the emergency ward and immediately began conducting triage of injured civilians.

“There was a sense of shock,” she told the CBC. “We’re Canada. This does not happen here.” (more…)

The sound of a guiding light

Barbara Frum and Alan Maitland, co-hosts of “As It Happens” on CBC Radio in 1970s.

It was our first winter in Alberta. A few months earlier, I’d abandoned a broadcast position in Saskatoon for some writing opportunities in Edmonton. We’d tried to find a house to buy, but in Alberta, then in the middle of a boom, interest rates were north of 12 per cent. So, we rented a bungalow and settled in – my wife, our two-year-old daughter, and our second infant daughter, barely a month old.

As I remember, it was cold and (on Dec. 24, 1979) dark by 4:30 p.m. Out of habit, because we’re dedicated radio people, Jayne and I turned on CBC Radio for “The World at Six” national newscast and at 6:30 the Monday-night edition of “As It Happens.” And that night for the first time, we heard Barbara Frum’s co-host Alan Maitland launch into a Christmas reading.

“While waiting for control tower to clear me for take-off,” Maitland began, “I glanced out through the cockpit canopy at the German countryside…” (more…)

Anger not allowed, Ladies

Broadcasting Centre building in Toronto, where the CBC radio program “Q” is produced.

It struck me the moment the Jian Ghomeshi allegations became public. It was 2014, when the CBC relieved the host of his duties on his daily show, “Q.” I contacted a young woman who had attended my journalism classes and who had then completed a placement (unpaid employment) at the same radio show. I wondered whether any of the horror stories going public about Ghomeshi’s alleged treatment of women might have included her.

“The truth of the matter is that I did feel threatened during my time at ‘Q,’” she wrote in a note to me. “He would flirt with me … This always happened when I was the only person in the office.” (more…)

What’s the problem here?

Last Monday’s Candidate Forum in Uxbridge featured those vying for Mayor’s, Regional Councillor’s and Regional Chair’s positions. Photo John Cavers.

They’d just turned off the lights and cameras. The Rogers on-air microphones had gone silent. I’d finished my wrap-up of the second candidates’ forum over at the Uxbridge arena on Monday night. But we still had people standing in line at the floor mike eager to pose a few last questions. Then, with the broadcast done, a woman stepped to the mike and began to describe an eye-sore – a grain elevator – in her part of town. I wanted her to bring her concern to a question for the candidates, so I butted in.

“And the problem?” I said, expecting her to pose a question to one of the mayoral or councillor candidates.

You’re the problem,” she said. (more…)

Democracy and the flames of economy

Book burnings by the Nazis in 1933 – Wikipedia.

When I left on a short holiday, about 10 days ago, this fall’s municipal election in my home own looked rather dull. While the mayoral contest and the regional council races were shaping up to be competitive, the number of candidates running in our wards left several virtually uncontested and even on the verge of proclaimed winners. Within the span of my holiday, though, the picture changed radically. To quote a friend of mine:

“It’ll be democracy, after all!” (more…)