LADNER’S JAMES PAXTON, AKA “BIG MAPLE”: HIS HISTORIC NO-HITTER AND MORE

When James Paxton came out for the bottom of the ninth against the hometown Toronto Blue Jays, he was pumped. Three outs away from an historic no-hitter, the steely hurler from Ladner, BC was not going to lose it by nibbling around the edges of the plate with sliders and curve balls. He came right at the Blue Jay hitters with fast balls. Despite having already thrown 92 pitches and never having pitched a complete game in his six-year, injury-plagued career, they were his fastest of the night. One broke the 100 mph barrier (160 kilometres per hour in Ladner). All seven were strikes. Anthony Alford fouled out on the first pitch. Hot-hitting Teoscar Hernandez went down swinging on three blazing fastballs. And dangerous Josh Donaldson lashed the ball hard, but straight at the Seattle Mariners’ smooth-fielding third baseman Kyle Seager. He threw carefully over to first, and that was that. Game, set, match. James Paxton was in the record books with a no-hitter, only the second thrown by a Canadian in the major leagues since the dawn of time.** And of course, it was also the first by a Canadian pitcher on his home and native land.

As Paxton’s team-mates mobbed him on the mound, Blue Jay fans stood and cheered their fellow Canadian. Before leaving the field, he acknowledged the crowd by gesturing towards them with the big maple leaf tattooed on his non-throwing right arm.

Canadian players are no longer a rarity in the big leagues. But some, once they get caught up in “America’s Pastime”, tend to downplay their Canadian heritage. (Hello there, Joey Votto. https://www.seattletimes.com/sports/mariners/fellow-canadian-joey-votto-apologizes-after-dissing-james-paxtons-no-hitter/) Not James Paxton. He has remained true to his hometown roots in bucolic Ladner. “Games in Toronto are the only ones they see us play, so it’s awesome that it was on TV in Ladner,” he told a post-game interviewer.

His parents Barb and Ted, uncle Lindsay and aunt Lisa had gathered at the family home in Ladner to watch the game. As the innings rolled by, they nervously abided by baseball’s deeply held superstition that no-hitters are never mentioned until the final out, lest they be jinxed. But when Seager’s throw disappeared into first baseman Ryon Healy’s glove, the emotional lid blew off. “We were all out of our seats with tears in our eyes,” Ted told Bob Elliott of the Canadian Baseball Network. “There was a lot of hooting and hollering going on.” Not long afterwards, James’ younger brother Tom walked in the back door, after finishing his construction shift, eyes agog. “He was in the same bewildered state as the rest of us,” said Pops Paxton, who reminded Elliott that last week’s gem against the Jays was not his son’s first no-hitter. He tossed one against Ridge Meadows when he was 12 and still has the baseball at his home in Seattle.

Back at the Rogers Centre in Toronto, as low-key, modest and Canadian as possible under the circumstances, Paxton paid tribute to his team-mates for making his no-hitter possible with several outstanding fielding plays. Then he explained his heartfelt wave to the fans, despite all their Blue Jay jerseys: “I wanted to show my respect to the Canadian crowd, to show them I had heard them and I appreciated that…I’m just so honoured to be Canadian and throw our country’s second no-hitter. And to have it happen in Canada…I mean, what are the odds? This is very special.” He noted, ruefully, that the first time he pitched for the Mariners in Toronto he’d been clobbered for nine runs.

Paxton’s Canadian pride and purposeful maple leaf tattoo have led his Seattle team-mates to tag him with an actual nickname, beyond adding a lame “sy” to his name. He’s Big Maple. In the middle of the tattoo, as a further nod to his upbringing, there is a depiction of Bowyer Island, a wee isle five kilometres north of Horseshoe Bay, where his family had a cabin. “I’ve been living out of Canada for 10 years now, and it reminds me of my family and home.”

Canada has been a tad late to embrace the James Paxton story, perhaps because he plays for Seattle out on the west coast, far from the home of the Jays and the self-proclaimed “centre of the Canadian baseball universe”. Also diminishing his profile has been a frustrating series of injuries that have put him on the disabled list year after year. Until last year’s dozen victories, he had never managed more than six wins or better than 121 innings in a season. So the height of his pre-no-hitter fame may have been early this April, when a befuddled bald eagle lit down on Paxton’s right shoulder during the American national anthem. Video of the bizarre incident and the pitcher’s remarkable sangfroid were a huge hit on YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hxnx_VbN2A8 Some have suggested the eagle may have been channeling the spirit of his grandfather Lawrie, who died the morning of his grandson’s first major league start.

As it happened, I was there for that memorable game in the fall of 2013. Not by design, but thanks to tickets bought months earlier to complement a planned trip Seattle by taking in nine innings at beloved Safeco Field, a ballpark I never tire of. Expecting little from a routine contest between the mediocre Mariners and anonymous Tampa Bay Rays, I’d been pleased to learn that a pitcher from the Fraser Valley would be making his first appearance in “the show” that night. Even though I hadn’t heard much about James Paxton it was something to look forward to. And a fellow I met in the washroom before the game, one of many rooters who’d made the trip down from Ladner, assured me that Paxton was the real deal, despite his indifferent 8-11 record at Triple A Tacoma. “He’s hot. You watch him tonight.” The urinal guy was right. Showing no sign of nerves, Paxton pitched like a veteran and won the game. The memorable evening was made even better by running into his brother and uncle at the game.

You can read what I wrote here:

https://mickleblog.wordpress.com/2013/09/09/kid-from-ladner-hits-the-big-time/

I’ve followed his career closely ever since. I even have an autographed James Paxton baseball jersey. He donated it to a fund-raiser for local recovery houses, and there was no way I was going to be outbid! Savvy investor that I am, it’s surely now gone up in value.

The no-hitter and all the ensuing attention could not have happened to a more deserving guy. For those who think professional athletes are little more than pampered zillionaires, Paxton’s life and times in baseball are a testament to perseverance and sheer, hard work. Nothing has come easily. He inched his way up the ladder, with time in North Delta, the University of Kentucky and Alaska, before moving on to the illustrious Grande Prairie HairHogs, Clinton LumberKings, Jackson Generals, and finally to Tacoma, hometown of Neko Case. Gradually, he learned the craft of pitching, beyond simply throwing. Then, just when he finally made the bigs, he was stricken by injury after injury. Only 13 starts in each of 2014 and 2015. In 2016, he was sent back down to Tacoma, before being recalled. Last year, after not yielding an earned run in three starts, he was on the disabled list once more. In July he was 6-0, when, right on cue, a “left pectoral muscle strain” sidelined him yet again. Talk about being star crossed.

But “quit” isn’t in Paxton’s vocabulary. He’s come back more times than that pesky skunk under the neighbour’s porch. And lately, something has seemed to click. The game before his no-hitter, he struck out 16 batters on a mere 105 pitches, a major league record. Is the young man from Lander at last on the verge of showing the baseball world what having an “Eh game” is all about.

 

** (The first hitless game by a Canadian in the majors was tossed by Dick Fowler agains the old St. Louis Browns, while pitching for 82-year old Connie Mack’s Philadelphia Athletics on Sept. 9, 1945. Even more remarkable was the fact that Fowler’s feat came on his first start after spending three years in the Canadian army. There’s nothing quite like baseball.)

 

 

 

 

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SALUTING AND MOURNING THE PEERLESS, TWO-OF-A-KIND SEDINS

(Most pictures by me!)

The outpouring of admiration and affection for the incomparable Daniel and Henrik Sedin, as they played their final three games for the lowly Canucks, was like nothing I’ve witnessed in my more than half a century of following sports. Fans, scribes, commentators, competitors, all the way down to the referees and well, just about everyone, joined in the celebration and heartfelt farewells in a way that went beyond the usual tributes to the end of a great player’s career. They seemed to be an acknowledgment that, in the 100-year history of the National Hockey League, the Sedins were something special.

Image 22TImage 19They were not the equal of Howe, Gretzky, Lemieux, the Rocket, or some of the other NHL greats of the past, but they played the game as it had never been played. Their ability to find each other with a no-look perfect pass, whether behind the back, through a crowd or simply by directing the puck to a seemingly innocuous part of the ice where the other Sedin would suddenly appear was other-worldly. At times, they seemed hockey-playing aliens from another planet.

They did so without howitzer shots, blinding speed or bruising physical play, absorbing all the hacking and physical punishment from lesser players without retaliation.  Daniel and Henrik were the antithesis of Don Cherry and that old-school consensus of “the way the game should be played.” Rather they were all about Finesse. With a capital F.

Even during the Canucks’ difficult last few years and beginning to age, whenever the Sedins hit the ice, you knew there was still a possibility of magic, a play that left you gasping with its brilliance. It was a magic that came to be known as “Sedinery”, an uncanny combination of dexterity and puckwork that surely had something to do with the chemistry of being identical twins. At their peak, they made journeymen linemates into 30-goal scorers, if they knew enough to merely wait for the puck near the net, where one of the Sedins would find them with a pinpoint pass.

sedin-twins-nhl-gallery-6Yet it’s often forgotten that their success was far from immediate or inevitable. They were not Gretzky or Lemieux, who were dominant pretty much from game one. One look at the pair of red-cheeked, innocent-looking teenagers drafted by the Canucks, and you could see the problem. How could these seemingly fragile kids from beautiful Örnsköldsvik possibly survive the rough and tumble, often brutal NHL? During their sometimes difficult, early years, they were mocked by many. Belittlers included some so-called Vancouver sports personalities, who shamefully dubbed them “the Sedin sisters” for their endless cycling of the puck and allegedly being Swedish soft. They also took a beating on the ice. But they never whined, never complained. Their extraordinary strength of character saw them through it.

Realizing that what had worked in Sweden wasn’t going to cut it in the rough, tough NHL, through sheer hard work they gradually got it right, improving their skating and building up their strength and stamina. Teammates attested to their fitness. No one showed up at training camp in better shape, a status they maintained religiously throughout the rigours of an NHL season. While their artistry with the puck grabbed the headlines, few remarked on how many plays began with Daniel or Henrik using their physical strength and toughness to protect the puck in the corner or along the boards, before passing. I have never seen players more skilled at operating in such little open ice. By season four, their climb to hockey’s elite had begun. Even this year, at the age of 37, with an unending rotation of nondescript wingers, both still had more points than in any of those first four seasons with the Canucks.

Image 23.jpgOver the years, there were so many good times, so many nights when they would get on one of their dazzling cycles and absolutely mesmerize the other team, before chalking up another goal. In 2009-2010, Henrik won the scoring title and the Hart Trophy as the league’s most valuable player. The next year, not to be outdone by his older brother, younger Daniel also won the scoring title, plus the Ted Lindsay Award as most outstanding player. There were also the not so good times, of course, particularly the devastating loss in the seventh game of the 2011 Stanley Cup final. And the last few years have been a challenge. But through it all, they never shied from the media or making themselves accountable when they had not been at their best.

In the three games that followed their retirement announcement, the way opposing players waited patiently for a last handshake with the Sedins before heading to the dressing room attested to the great respect they engendered around the league, a respect that extended to rabid supporters of the hometown Edmonton Oilers. At the end of their final game, they kept cheering as Daniel and Henrik skated around the ice, as if they, too, could not bear to see the end of their special talents. And, lest we forget the incredible, rollicking send-off in Vancouver two night earlier. Not only were there ovation after ovation for the local heroes, Daniel scored the winning goal in overtime, setting off a roar the likes of which hadn’t been heard since the 2011 Stanley Cup playoffs. It was his second goal of the game, each assisted, naturally, by Henrik, as the twins cranked up their game one last time for a story-book ending to their astounding careers.

The reception in both their home and enemy rinks was as much a recognition of the Sedins’ exemplary character. They didn’t trash talk, didn’t make excuses, didn’t bemoan bad luck. They both remain married to their high-school sweethearts and are raising their kids as normally as possible right here in Vancouver. They are common visitors to city hospitals and involved with select charities, without attracting attention to themselves. When the Sedins gave $1.5 million to BC Children’s Hospital, only at the insistence of the hospital was their donation made public.

Late in their final game against the Oilers, hearing broadcaster john Shorthouse announce for the zillionth time: “Daniel, back to Henrik, pass to Daniel…over to Henrik…”, a wave of sadness, swept over me, as it sank in just how much I will miss them. They were as much a part of Vancouver as the rain, unaffordable real estate prices and the North Shore mountains. Watching the Sedins over their 17 seasons with the boys of Orca is one of the absolute highlights of my many, many years as a hockey fan. I still can’t quite grasp the fact that the twins will not be lacing up their skates for another season, and sweaters 22 and 33 will be missing from the Canucks’ lineup for the first time this century. A magnificent chapter has closed, and we will never see its like again.

I do have one last, mischievous thought. For the longest time not even their coaches could tell the Sedins apart. Now that the tumult and the shouting have died, I can’t help wondering: did Daniel and Henrik ever switch jerseys, just for the fun of it?

Image 6.jpg

 

 

 

 

 

THE LONG GOODBYE

So, farewell then, Dave Barrett. A month after the remarkable NDP leader passed away, it was time for the public to bid adieu, formally and informally.

The official state memorial in Victoria came first, followed the next day by what was more a gathering of the clans at Vancouver’s Croatian Cultural Centre, not that far from where Dave Barrett grew up on the city’s rough-and-tumble east side. Both events were packed, befitting the immeasurable contribution he made to the province of British Columbia during his short 39 months as its first socialist premier. (Unlike today’s New Democrats, he never shied from using the term “socialist”.) Beyond his political legacy, there was an outpouring of real affection for someone who had such a long career, was generous with his time and compassion and never ceased battling for folks on the bottom rung of life’s ladder.

“He believed in wielding power on behalf of those who didn’t have it,” said former NDP MP and MLA Dawn Black, in a strong speech to the Vancouver mourners. “He made them feel like they counted, that they mattered.” Said Simon Fraser University president Andrew Petter, hired, at 19 as executive assistant to Barrett’s Housing Minister Lorne Nicholson: “He was the only politician I know who would speak openly about ‘love’.”

Not surprisingly, each of the memorials was pretty much an NDP house. As Premier John Horgan observed, they were the sort of crowds where fund-raising buckets would have been passed around at the end, to be stuffed with coins and bills from those fired up by Barrett’s uplifting, passionate oratory.

Yet I was particularly struck by the words of our non-partisan Lieutenant-Governor, Judith Guichon, at the state memorial. I would hazard a guess that as a longtime Cariboo rancher, before her current vice-regal appointment, she would not have had much “truck or trade” with the NDP. Indeed, as part of the ranching community, she confessed to having grave doubts about the Agricultural Land Reserve when it was brought in by the Barrett government. Now, she observed, she considers the ALR a provincial treasure. “[Dave Barrett] displayed one of the true attributes of a leader; he made hard decisions,” said the Lt.-Govt, who made one herself last summer, when she gave John Horgan the chance to govern, rather than accept Christy Clark’s advice to call an election. “His vision far exceeded that of so many Canadians….The volume of bills, and the lasting nature of the changes wrought during the short duration of that first NDP government, is legendary.”

One of my political heroes, Bill King, also spoke in Victoria. King went from the cab of a locomotive to Labour Minister under Barrett and was arguably the best BC ever had. He presided over a bold new labour code that forever changed the nature of industrial relations in this polarized province, drawing interest and accolades from across North America. Tough as nails, King took no guff from anyone, whether it was the business community or segments of the labour movement, headed by the equally tough head of the BC Federation of Labour, Len Guy, who quarreled with King throughout because he felt labour should have got more. “Barrett,” King told the crowd, “was passionate, hilarious and at times impetuous. He was really a fireball.”

I missed Victoria, but did take in Vancouver, inwardly groaning at the long list of speakers despite assurances they would stick to their five-minute time limits. “New Democrats can’t say hello in under five minutes,” quipped John Horgan. But by and large they did, and the afternoon went by quickly, a warm, loving fitting tribute to what Dave Barrett meant to this province, and to the NDP.

(Premier John Horgan speaking during the Vancouver memorial for Dave Barrett)

I was glad that some recalled and rued Barrett’s defeat in his bid for federal leadership of the NDP in 1989. He lost on the fourth ballot to well-meaning but lack-lustre Audrey McLaughlin, in large measure because of a belief by eastern party members that the NDP had to elect a leader who spoke French in order to have any chance in Quebec. McLaughlin was bilingual. Barrett’s warning about the pending threat of western alienation was ignored. Under McLaughlin, the NDP was virtually wiped off the face of the map in the next election, a shellacking that almost certainly would not have happened with Barrett at the helm, one of the best campaigners the NDP ever had. (Barrett’s heads-up over western alienation turned out to be prescient, since the rise of the Reform Party was a major factor in the NDP’s poor showing, while the party went nowhere in Quebec. ) Horgan was one of those expressing regret at the party’s leadership choice. “Just think what would have happened if Dave Barrett had become leader of the federal party,” he exclaimed. Added Joy MacPhail, who was in the forefront of Barrett’s bid: “…the way he would have stormed the federal stage…I think to this day that he would have made the best leader.” The Ottawa press corps would have lapped up his humour and no-holds-barred, colourful presence.

But of course the major focus was Barrett’s unforgettable tenure as premier, which so changed British Columbia — almost all for the good. “He taught us that you could win by not compromising your views,” said former premier Glen Clark, no shrinking violet himself when he led the province. “He had an unshakeable belief that the power of government could be harnessed to make change.” Moe Sihota, the province’s first South Asian cabinet minister, referenced the historic election of black candidates Emery Barnes and Rosemary Brown and Frank Calder of the Nisga’a Nation in 1973. “He [Barrett] never thought that colour was a barrier.”

Andrew Petter remembered how the Barrett government was savaged by free-enterprisers, even those south of the border. A report on socialist BC by Barron’s Magazine called the premier ‘Allende of the North’. “He considered that a compliment.” (When Allende was shot in the Chilean coup that overthrew his democratically-elected, Marxist government, Barrett ordered the BC flag outside the legislature flown at half-staff.) “The lessons he taught me have guided me for the entirety of my adult life,” said Petter. “Dave, we would have been so much poorer without you.”

Dawn Black singled out two specific measures of the Barrett government that affected her personally. One was the banning of the strap, an enormously controversial move at the time. “I was strapped and I remember feeling so humiliated and feeling the powerlessness of a young person at the power of an adult.” She also pointed to the NDP’s often-overlooked role establishing the BC Cancer Control Agency. “I’ve had two kids with cancer. The [BCCA] provided them with the highest standard of care in the world, and that meant everything to me.”

(Speakers included, L to R, Gerry Scott, Andrew Petter and Joy MacPhail)

Somewhat to my surprise, the best summation of what Dave Barrett bequeathed to the province was delivered by BC’s forgotten premier, Dan Miller, who filled in as interim leader between Glen Clark and Ujjal Dosanjh. Miller moved from his job in Prince Rupert’s Cellulose pulp mill to work as Highway Minister Graham Lea’s executive assistant in Victoria.

Politics were different back then, said Miller. It wasn’t about brief sound clips and making the 6 o’clock news. It was about filling union and community halls to build support. “You had to fill the halls, and for that we had Dave Barrett. He was the only speaker I’d ever heard who could make the hair on the back of my neck stand up. He would read the audience, and then just take off.” On the night of Aug. 30, 1972, when the impossible happened and the unbeatable WAC Bennett went down in flames, bringing the NDP to power for the first time, Miller said the euphoria he experienced that night “has never been duplicated.”

Astutely, Miller likened the impact of the Barrett government to the profound changes that swept Quebec with the election of Jean Lesage and the Liberals in 1960, ending the long run of the socially conservative Union Nationale and its quasi-authoritarian leader Maurice Duplessis. What followed has gone down in history as Quebec’s Quiet Revolution. “In the same way, Dave Barrett brought BC into the modern era,” said Miller. He added, with a wry smile: “Although you might describe his revolution as a noisy one.”

Marc Eliesen, imported from Manitoba to restore some stability to the chaos that often overtook the Barrett government, said he once asked Shirley Barrett why she stuck around with a husband so often away and so consumed by politics. She replied: “I want to see what happens next.”

Dave and Shirley were married 64 years, their affection for each other undiminished by time or Alzheimer’s. But the disease took his father’s famous voice, not his spirit, said son Joe. “We knew he was there in gestures and smiles and the way he looked at us. With my mom, you could see the connection between them, even when the illness was very advanced. It was quite beautiful.”

Dave Barrett (1930-2018). We will never see his like again.

 

 

 

 

REMEMBERING DAVE BARRETT AND THE SUMMER OF ’72

In the best of summers, Dave Barrett ran the best of campaigns. Up against the seemingly unbeatable W.A.C. Bennett, the NDP leader was as unruffled as the weather, relaxed and purposefully out of the media spotlight. Forty people at a small gathering in Houston, a brief visit to the distant mining town of Stewart, a mid-morning tea in mighty Yahk, mainstreeting in Revelstoke. It was all the same to Barrett, part of his strategy to defuse once and for all Bennett’s tried-and-true election fear mongering about the “socialist hordes”. Of course there were hard-hitting political speeches at larger public meetings, but none of them predicted victory. He simply refused to be a target.

When needed, there was Barrett’s trademark humour. An allegation  that he followed Marx was laughed off with “which one, Groucho, Harpo or Zeppo?” Bennett’s ongoing charge that he was part of the NDP’s left-wing Waffle movement, prompted Barrett to call the premier a pancake, then a stack of pancakes. When Bennett persisted, he threatened to call him a Crêpes Suzette, “knowing how he feels about Quebec.”

But the best joke he told on himself. In Prince George, he advised the audience that an astrologer, asked by a local Vancouver newspaper to assess various attributes of the four provincial leaders, had given him a good mark for “sexual proclivities”. Rather pleased, Barrett told the tittering crowd he phoned home that night and asked his wife Shirley if she’d seen anything interesting in the paper. “No, Dave,” she reported. “Just the same old lies.” It brought the house down.

On the last Saturday before the election, Dave and Shirley finished the evening at a social event in Surrey, dancing. His final campaign speech was a traditional tub-thumper before a roaring crowd of 1,200 in his home riding of Coquitlam. But Barrett preached love, not revolution. By the time voters went to the polls on Aug. 30, 1972, the fear was gone. Barrett and the NDP coasted home to an unimaginable victory. After 39 years of the CCF/NDP finishing second to the forces of free enterprise in election after election, the province had its first socialist government.

With the sad news of Dave Barrett’s passing last month, I found myself thinking back to that unforgettable time more than 45 years ago, when everything went right and British Columbia wound up with what was, during its brief 39 months in office, the most progressive and transformative government in Canadian history.

A refugee from Ontario, I was with my West Coast relatives that evening. They could not comprehend what was happening. Almost every Socred kingpin fell to virtual NDP unknowns. “Phil Gaglardi lost!” I remember my cousin screaming with disbelief and delight. The same incredulity prevailed at Social Credit’s anticipated victory gathering at the Bayshore Hotel. “These results can’t be right. They can’t be,” said one perplexed supporter. When Attorney General Les Peterson showed up, a woman rushed towards him. “At least you won,” she exclaimed. “No, said Peterson, “I lost. We all lost.”

At the NDP’s celebratory headquarters at the Coquitlam Arena, emotions were off the charts. Barrett’s mother Ruth, a former Communist who wrapped her young son’s head in bloodied bandages for a Spanish Civil War May Day float, gave him a hug and began to cry. The province’s new leader-to-be was serenaded to the podium with raucous renditions of “For He’s A Jolly Good Fellow” from the delirious, overflow crowd. Veteran union official Rudy Krickan, who had worked for the CCF and then the NDP since the 1930’s, called it “the greatest night of my life”. One less sober celebrant, who seemed not to have paid much attention to consent, yelled: “I’m so happy I’ve kissed 23 women and 17 men.” Up in Lillooet, far from the bedlam in Coquitlam, legendary newspaperwoman Ma Murray, who loathed W.A.C. Bennett with a passion, declared she had never felt so happy in all her  73 years. The beaming Barrett headed home early, for a beer and bed, but not before pledging: “I will not let our hopes and aspirations down….The people of British Columbia have the right to expect a great deal from us and we must deliver.”

Delivery did not take long. The Barrett government got to work right from the historic September day they took office. Hansard and Question Period at last, a doubling of MLA salaries so members could be full-time legislators and increased funding for the Opposition. New ministers took on a whirlwind of assignments: public auto insurance, a new labour code, a complete review of health services, preserving farmland, the plight of First Nations in the province. The long-proposed Third Crossing between Vancouver and the North Shore was killed, in favour of a planned “seabus” across Burrard Inlet. Social Services Minister Norm Levi quickly grasped what being in government meant after years hammering away from opposition benches. He ordered the BC Hydro to restore service to a woman on welfare, whose hydro had been cut off for non-payment.

During a brief, 18-day fall session, the minimum wage was raised 33 percent to $2 an hour, teachers were given bargaining rights, budget responsibilities were restored to local school boards, a broad-based committee was struck to bring democratic reforms to a legislature that had operated under WAC Bennett’s one-sided version of the rules for two decades and most significant of all, the government brought in Mincome, guaranteeing seniors a minimum income of $200 a month. The pioneer program, unmatched anywhere in North America, is “the unfinished work of the socialist movement in its concern for people of all ages,” proclaimed Norm Levi. Pretty well the Barrett government’s first order of business, Mincome remained its most popular measure for all the time it was in office.

Meanwhile, as the days ticked by towards Christmas, Barrett was a whirling dervish of news and off-the-cuff announcements, captivating reporters with his availability, humour, espousal of socialism and denigration of greedy, capitalist speculators in rhetoric that seemed to get him on the front page every day. One scribe calculated that the roly-poly, non-stop premier had committed his government to 42 new polices during its first 55 days in office. By the time Guy Lombardo ushered out 1972 with Auld Lang Syne, Dave Barrett might have been the most popular premier in BC history.

It didn’t last of course. The bitter fights to preserve BC farmland from development, bring in public auto-insurance, tax windfall mining profits, dramatically increase spending on social services for the disadvantaged and enact a myriad other controversial measures aimed at making the province a more enlightened place to live evoked large protests and sometimes over-the-top opposition in the media.. The inevitable government gaffes,  coupled with more than a few missteps by Barrett, himself, did not help. By the time the NDP was voted out of office three years later, that early glow was but a memory.

Looking back, those faults pale in comparison with the rich legacy left behind, a legacy that is with us still. None is greater than the preservation of farmland throughout British Columbia. Forty-five years later, the Agricultural Land Reserve stands as a beacon to what a committed government can do to change a province.  (My list of the Barrett government’s 100 achievements, over those short 39 months, is available here (https://mickleblog.wordpress.com/2018/02/19/100-achievements-of-the-dave-barrett-government-1972-1975/). BC never had a more alive, activist government.

The summer of 1972 made it all happen. As he is remembered at a state memorial in Victoria and a gathering the next day in Vancouver, for all his  accomplishments and fighting the good political fight for so many years, that’s when Dave Barrett did the impossible. By “slaying the Socred dragon”, as the Vancouver Sun’s front page headline put it, and refusing a cautious, go-slow approach, he set BC on course to a modern future from which there was no turning back.

 

 

100 ACHIEVEMENTS OF THE DAVE BARRETT GOVERNMENT (1972-1975)

From 1972 to 1975, the province’s first socialist government, headed by the NDP’s Dave Barrett, changed the face of British Columbia. Their time in office was a frenzy of action and legislation, passing more than 350 bills and taking many other measures, which left a legacy that has helped shape us ever since. With Dave Barrett’s recent passing, some might want to refresh their memories, or learn for the first time, just exactly what his government did – and of course they were hardly perfect. But given Given the cautious, go-slow, poll-driven legislators of today, it is a remarkable record, during a mere 39 months in office. Herewith, taken largely from The Art of the Impossible, the account of the Barrett government by Geoff Meggs and me, is a list of its Top 100 achievements. Amazing.

  1. The Agricultural Land Reserve.
  2. The Insurance Corp. of BC, which brought publicly-owned auto insurance to the province.
  3. A provincial ambulance service, with licensed paramedics.
  4. Hansard.
  5. Daily question period.
  6. Greatly increased funding for opposition parties.
  7. Chair of the Public Accounts Committee given to a member of the opposition.
  8. Doubling of MLA pay to $25,000 a year.
  9. Minimum wage raised from $1.50 to $2.50 an hour, highest in the country.
  10. Mincome, providing a guaranteed, minimum income for those over 60, the Barrett government’s single most popular measure.
  11. Pharmacare for seniors.
  12. Boosting welfare rates 20 to 40 percent. Total spending on human resources went from 8.5 percent to 15.1 percent of the budget.
  13. Restoration and sprucing up of the crumbling legislative building.
  14. Provincial sheriffs service.
  15. Banning use of the strap in public schools.
  16. Neighbourhood pubs.
  17. Lifting of arbitrary ceiling on teacher wage increases.
  18. Ending a ban on beer and liquor and advertising.
  19. Buying two pulp mills, two sawmills and Panko Poultry to save them from going out of business. Except for the chicken plant, all subsequently made money.
  20. Full collective bargaining rights, including the right to strike, for government employees.
  21. The most far-reaching Human Rights Code in Canada.
  22. A breath-taking labour code, the most far-reaching in North America, which took picketing disputes out of the courts for the first time and greatly facilitated union organizing.
  23. A powerful new Labour Relations Board, with unprecedented jurisdiction over labour matters. It was an outstanding success.
  24. First-of-a-kind legislation dealing with strikes in essential services, directing the LRB to determine which services should be maintained during strikes by fire, police and/or health care workers. This allowed employees in these critical areas to strike, but with restrictions.
  25. Establishing the Islands Trust to protect the Gulf Islands against uncontrolled development.
  26. A government funded art bank to purchase BC art.
  27. The BC Energy Commission to regulate private utilities and monitor oil and gas prices.
  28. The BC Petroleum Corp., cutting the government in on profit from export sales of natural gas, dubbed “thirty-second socialism” by Attorney General Alex Macdonald.
  29. Elected community resources boards.
  30. BC Cancer Control Agency.
  31. Dramatic expansion of community colleges.
  32. Pay toilets canned.
  33. Restoration of the right to sue the Crown.
  34. BC’s first ministry of housing, charged with encouraging affordable and co-op housing through the government-purchased Dunhill Development.
  35. Rent contols.
  36. Appointment of a rentalsman to oversee tenant rights.
  37. Refurbishing of the Royal Hudson steam locomotive for rail trips between West Vancouver and Squamish.
  38. Amalgamation of both Kelowna and Kamloops.
  39. Purchase of the Princess Marguerite, to keep the beloved Victoria-Seattle ferry in operation.
  40. Purchase of Victoria’s inner harbor waterfront.
  41. BC’s first Indigenous school board, run by the Nisga’a Tribal Council.
  42. Greatly expanded daycare facilities and increased subsidies.
  43. Farm Income Assurance Act.
  44. Mandatory kindergarten.
  45. Reduced teacher-student ratios.
  46. End of province-wide exams for Grade 12 students.
  47. Annual federal grant of $700,000 for French immersion restored to the school system.
  48. Purchase of 1.1 million BC Tel shares, in an unsuccessful attempt to secure a seat on the board. Later resold for a good profit.
  49. Ban on non-union grapes at all government-owned institutions.
  50. Union wages mandated for all publicly-funded construction projects.
  51. Independent boards of review to decide Workers’ Compensation Board appeals, previously left to the WCB, itself.
  52. Improved WCB pensions.
  53. New, government-owned manufacturing plant in Squamish to build BC Rail boxcars.
  54. Killing proposed Third Crossing between the North Shore and Vancouver and using the savings for expanding public transit.
  55. The Seabus (began operation under Social Credit).
  56. Cancellation of proposed downtown Vancouver government office tower, resulting in Arthur Erickson-designed Robson Square.
  57. Ending logging of Cypress Bowl and preserving it for recreation.
  58. An independent board of governors at BC Institute of Technology.
  59. A police commission to set policing standards in the province.
  60. Legislation requiring elected and appointed officials to disclose their financial holdings.
  61. Increased funding for the arts.
  62. Expansion of provincial parks from 7.1 to 9.4 million acres.
  63. Putting a stop to logging and mining in provincial parks.
  64. The BC lottery.
  65. Financial aid to enable the City of Vancouver to purchase the historic Orpheum Theatre.
  66. Creation of a large provincial park to stall plans by Seattle City Light to flood much of BC’s Skagit Valley by raising the High Ross Dam.
  67. BC Day.
  68. Full-time human rights officers.
  69. A BC Human Rights Commission.
  70. Closure of residential Willingdon School for troubled girls and Brannan Lake Industrial Centre for boys, which Barrett considered, amid so much else, his proudest achievements.
  71. BC Ferries ship-building.
  72. Large increases to legal aid.
  73. The province’s first consumer services ministry, and Canada’s strongest consumer protection.
  74. Significant financial assistance for an Indigenous fisheries co-op in northwest BC.
  75. Legislation allowing BC to establish its own bank.
  76. Quashing a proposed bulk-loading coal port for Squamish.
  77. Removal of succession duties from farms that pass from parents to their children.
  78. Allowing civil service pension funds to invest in stocks..
  79. Provisions for handing public complaints against police.
  80. Boosting mineral royalties and increasing the governments take from windfall profits resulting from a spike in world metal prices.
  81. Burns Lake Development Corporation, giving district Indigenous groups a share in the local forest industry.
  82. Provincial Status of Women Office.
  83. Hiking corporate taxes from 10 to 12 percent.
  84. Higher renters’ grants.
  85. Ramping up royalties on coal from 25 cents to $1.50 a ton.
  86. Removal of the sales tax on books.
  87. Amassing $38.8 million in profits from Crown corporations.
  88. Timber Products Stabilization Act, enabling government to regulate the price of wood chips sold by sawmills to pulp mills.
  89. Banning the export of raw logs.
  90. Assistance for BC industries with a $100-million fund administered by the BC Development Corporation.
  91. Community health centres.
  92. An air ambulance service.
  93. Establishment of Whistler as a resort municipality, the first of its kind in Canada, along with a land freeze and development study.
  94. Investment in Kelowna’s Sun Valley Foods.
  95. Municipal assessment reform.
  96. Abolishing extra billing by doctors.
  97. Sexual Sterilization Act
  98. Acquisition of Shaughnessy Veterans’ Hospital, later to become BC Children’s Hospital.
  99. Funding of women’s shelters, rape relief centres and women’s health collectives.
  100. Revamping the province’s family court system.

 

 

COURAGEOUS CANADIANS

This year, I thought, my lifelong love of the Olympics, was, if not at an end, under serious challenge. Pyeongchang? The site of the Games conjured up no vision at all. Nor, with newspapers and other media so reduced, was there any real build-up to these Winter Olympics to whet the appetite. Once Gary Kingston, the Vancouver Sun’s consummate chronicler of BC’s winter athletes, departed, coverage dropped to virtually zero. As for the Globe and Mail, my former paper has regularly sent a healthy contingent to the Olympics, including, on occasion, me. This year, the Globe opted for a small force of three, The late, dispiriting, get-out-of-jail-free card delivered to Russia’s organized dopers didn’t help. Given that, the lack of buzz and an awkward time difference of 17 hours, I was wondering how much of the Games I would watch at all.

I should have known better. Wednesday afternoon, more than a day before the lavish Opening Ceremonies even took place, where was I? Watching mixed Olympics curling. Although Canada eventually lost this strange, albeit fun hybrid of the roaring game to Norway, I was already back inside the tent, hooked once more.

As always, bold predictions for our Canadian athletes are trotted out before the Games begin. Inevitably, there are disappointments. Nothing in sports is quite like the pressure of the Olympics. With the proverbial whole world watching and the added burden of carrying the hopes of your country, which resolutely ignores you the rest of the time, a competitor get one chance every four years to come through. There is no wait ‘til next year. No wonder pressure claims so many victims, while relative unknowns, with nothing to lose, often emerge as surprise gold medalists. That’s why the drama of the Olympics is unsurpassed, and that’s why Canada’s first five medals at these Games – four silvers and a bronze — were so inspiring. Mark McMorris, Max Parrot, Ted-Jan Bloemen, Justine Dufour-Lapointe and Laurie Blouin: with everything on the line, all won their medals with truly courageous performances.

In men’s slopestyle, the fact Mark McMorris was even at Pyeongchang was one of the major stories heading into the Games. At Sochi in 2014, the legendary king of “big air” from flatland Saskatchewan had gutted out a miraculous bronze medal, despite fracturing a rib just two weeks earlier. In 2016, he was sidelined with a broken right femur. And then, a mere 11 months ago, snowboarding with some pals in Whistler’s backcountry, he slammed into a tree and nearly died. His injuries read like a doctor’s meat chart: broken jaw, broken arm, ruptured spleen, fractured pelvis, more rib fractures and a collapsed lung. The picture of McMorris in hospital, with bandages and a zillion hook-ups all over his battered body has gone viral.

Once out of hospital, McMorris undertook a rehab program so arduous as to be absurd. Defying predictions he might never snowboard competitively again, he was back at in late November. But how would he do at the Olympics, where pressure and competition are at their most intense? If there was any fragility left from his astounding crackup, now is when it would show. No worries. Mark McMorris came through with high-flying colours . His soaring stunts brought him so close to a storybook gold, he was almost disappointed at winning bronze, against odds no one but McMorris thought beatable that dark, terrifying day in Whistler. Two Olympics, two miracle podium finishes for Canada’s Bionic Man. Courage.

Slopestyle team-mate Max Parrot, whom many ranked ahead of McMorris, succumbed to the swirling winds, falling heavily on his first run, and then again on his second run. As he awaited a third and final attempt, Red Gerard, the 17-year old American kid, was on top, McMorris second. Parrot was nowhere. The last snowboarder in the competition, this was it. There was no margin for error. The next Olympics were four years distant. He looked out over the snow-swept terrain, the series of tricky rails and tall, launchpad jumps and the crowd far below. “I had a lot of pressure and my heart was beating really fast before starting on the course,” he recounted, later. It was all or nothing. And the 23-year old Quebecker nailed it. The second highest score among all contenders and a silver medal. As for those two falls: “I hit my head twice, pretty hard actually. My helmet made it possible for me to survive. I’m really happy.” Courage.

There is something so calm and mesmerizing about the 5,000 metres speedskating event. Competitors circle the gleaming oval track in perfect, rhythmic harmony, usually with one hand or two tucked comfortably behind their back, while their long, powerful strides propel them forward, lap after lap. It seems so effortless. As the race wears on, however, distance takes a toll. In order to have maximum energy at the end, when it counts, you need to set a perfect pace. Otherwise, you falter. You tighten up, fighting for every breath.

It happened to Ted-Jan Bloemen. The Dutchman-turned-Canadian was a pre-race favourite, but these were the Olympics, his first. After building a quick early lead over his Norwegian track partner, he began to struggle. With just a few laps to go, Bloemen had fallen behind. He seemed done. Yet somehow, from somewhere, he summoned an inner reserve of strength and began fighting back. When the two skaters crossed the finish line, his skate blade flashed across the line a miniscule, two one-thousandths of a second ahead. It brought him the silver medal, the first by a Canadian at that distance since the 1930’s. The Norwegian, Sverre Lunde Pedersen, was stunned. “I thought he was tired, too tired to skate fast at the end, but he came back,” he told reporters, afterwards. “That was impressive.” Blomen’s time was his fastest ever at that altitude.. “I got everything out of myself that I had.” Courage.

Four years ago, “les soeurs extraordinares”, as I called them, captivated the country at the Sochi Winter Olympics. Justine Dufour-Lapointe hurtled down the treacherous mogul course to a gold medal. Beside her on the podium, with a silver medal around her neck, was none other than her sister Chloe. Justine was 19, Chloe 22. It was perhaps the story of the Games, and I blogged excitedly about it here. https://mickleblog.wordpress.com/2014/02/09/gold-silver-and-sisters/

But four years is a long time to remain at the top. In 2017, the sisters’ beloved, supportive mother was diagnosed with cancer (now in remission). Nagged by worry, Justine’s results fell off. And Canada had a new moguls champion, Andi Naude from Penticton. Coming into these Olympics, few foresaw another podium finish for the emotional French-Canadian. But once again, at the critical moment…. Well, let Justine explain: “When I was up there I was just thinking, this is it. This is my last run. My moment. And I want to control it. Despite all the world watching me right now, it’s me who will decide what happens next.” Under the pounding pressure, when it counted most, she put everything together with a beautiful, aggressive run, snatching second place and a silver medal. This medal, she said, as tears mixed with snow streamed down her face, meant more to her than gold at Sochi. “This has been the hardest year of my life, a hurricane in our family,” Justine said, noting as well the competitive setbacks endured by her other sisters. “This is more than a medal. It is a victory for our family, and that’s what we are celebrating.” Courage.

For many Canadians, their first glimpse of this year’s Winter Olympics was a long-range shot of a large red sled transporting Canadian snowboarder Laurie Blouin off the course, after she crashed hard during training on the Games’ first day. Taken to hospital, she was soon released, but Canadian officials were mum about her injuries. It was left to Mark McMorris to reveal: “She whacked her noggin pretty good and cut up her face.” Yet Blouin somehow made it to Monday’s final, which was clouded by controversy. Fierce, gusting winds buffeted the snowboarders as they soared high into the sky, causing fall after fall, including Blouin on her first high-flying venture. But the event continued. Having already fallen once, with memories of her crash still fresh, would Blouin’s psyche be strong enough to brave more danger from the ferocious gales, described as “terrifying” by another Canadian slopestyler? You bet. A backside 720, a frontside 540, a solid landing from a cab underflip, and Laurie Blouin had a silver medal, just three days after her release from hospital. “I’m really stubborn,” the young Quebecker, displaying a sinister welt and prominent cut under her left eye, asserted to English-language reporters. “Is that how you say it?” Yes it is. Courage.

 

 

 

 

DODGING DANGER IN PARADISE

It’s a while since I’ve been caught up in a world-wide news event, especially one where I MIGHT HAVE DIED. But there we were, after a five a.m. wake-up call by Kauai’s ubiquitous red roosters, on the first day of our holiday, groggily sipping our coffee in the Saturday morning sunshine. All of a sudden, the island quiet was pierced by an urgent loud buzz on our cellphone. It sounded like an Amber Alert on steroids. “What the heck was that?” I said out loud to other breakfasters gathered on the patio of our inn. No one looked up from their buttered toast. Thinking it was just some sort of glitch, we didn’t investigate further. Then, my companion reported back from the office. The woman behind the front desk had said something about a missile threat, as she busied herself with the office routine. The patio remained an oasis of calm. I glanced at the sky, saw nothing and continued with my coffee. Nobody, it seemed, including ourselves, was going to be bothered about a little thing like nuclear annihilation. After all, we were on holiday.

When I subsequently checked the Globe and Mail website, I discovered that the alert had actually been pretty scary, the nonchalance by our front desk clerk notwithstanding. ‘SEEK IMMEDIATE SHELTER. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.” Yikes. And the Hawaiian missile alarm was at the top of the Globe’s story list. We’d been part of history, bad coffee and all.

A little later, when we traipsed in to nearby, sleepy Lihue, I asked some of the locals how they’d dealt with the alert. Unlike reports of panic elsewhere, people seemed to have taken it in their laid-back stride.

Our cab driver said she’d been stuck in an unrelated traffic jam. She did what anyone would do facing an incoming ballistic missile. She phoned her supervisor. Her boss told her not to worry. The boss’s husband was in the military, and he’d confirmed it was a false alarm. The volunteer at the local museum said he’d slept through the whole thing. “If it was real, that’s the best way to go.” I agreed.

A genial, bearded Uber driver was the only person I talked to who actually reacted to the alert. He’d been at his Saturday men’s Bible class (I refrained from asking whether he thought the Apocalypse was coming at last…). All their phones went off at once, and everyone rushed outside. He immediately phoned his wife with specific instructions: “Stay inside. Don’t go to that garage sale!”

As we talked, he noted that some of those who hadn’t taken it seriously questioned why anyone would launch a ballistic missile towards Kauai. He pointed out, quite rightly, that the US Navy’s Pacific Missile Range Facility is on the island, right by the wonderfully-named Barking Sands. The PMRF’s latest mission is to track incoming missiles and shoot them down. “So we could have been a target,” he said, cheerfully.

Another fellow I spoke to further up island was rational about it. His community tests its emergency sirens once a month, to ensure their readiness in case of an incoming tsunami or other calamity. He got the alert, poked his head out the door, heard no sirens and went back inside, figuring he was going to see the sun set on another day in paradise, without a mushroom cloud obscuring the view. Plus, as many observed: “Seek shelter? Like, where, dude?” This is Hawaii. According to a local newspaper round-up, one guy took refuge with his son behind a palm tree…

I particularly liked a few other reactions. Who should be a longtime permanent resident of Kauai, but Samantha Geimer, the victim in the Roman Polanski child sex abuse case? On Facebook, noting the blasé indifference around her, she posted: “I guess panicking in Hawaii is making coffee and shrugging our shoulders.” A youngster phoned his mom to tell her a ballistic missile was coming their way. “OK, I’m at the farmers’ market,” she replied. And finally, a tourist from Utah sent a text to her kids, saying: “This could be it. I love you.” They texted back: “Send us a picture.”

And that was that. There were reports of understandable panic elsewhere, but overall, on beautiful Kauai, the response to possible nuclear annihilation seemed to be: keep calm and carry on. It’s probably not real, and if it is real, what can you do?

On reflection, I am little less sanguine about the bizarre incident. First of all, the frightening alert was apparently put out by an employee “during a shift change”. Hey, we’ve all experienced shift changes. Issuing a ballistic missile alert is just one of those things that can happen, right?….But I mean, really??? And then it took an unforgiveable 38 minutes to issue a cell phone correction. (Many got the news much earlier from Congresswoman Tulsi Garbbard, who posted her own “all-clear” message a mere 12 minutes after the alert.) Those twin incompetencies are truly beyond belief, particularly given the two nutbars allegedly in charge of North Korea and the USA, who make anything seem possible. (In the winning way that is coming to characterize society these days, the unfortunate who put out the alert has received “dozens of death threats by fax, phone and social media,” officials said.)

Meanwhile, for us veterans of the Cold War and the Cuban Missile Crisis, this brought back a lot of unwanted memories, from a time when “Duck and Cover” exercises were very real. During crunch day of the Cuban Missile Crisis, we went to school, not knowing if we would be coming back home. It was truly an eerie and frightening feeling. But of course, we still did exactly what many Islanders did on Saturday. We went about our normal routine. If the bomb was coming, so be it.

So for now, ballistic missile dodged. Slap on the sunscreen.