POSTING #134

Note: Although the weather this fall has been unseasonably mild, the calendar insists that winter is fast approaching. I am feeling strong ancestral urgings to put the tools away in the barn, and push my feet into the oven for at least part of the winter---as I did last year.

This, therefore, will be the last Letter from Virgil Posting until February 12, 2012.

Pat and I wish readers a wonderful holiday season!

See you in February.

Niagara-on-the-Lake and the Bicentennial of the War of 1812-15

This is the official logo for the 1812 Bicentennial that is now appearing on souvenirs of all kinds, everything from hats to key chains.

For the last year or so, I have been working as a volunteer secretary to one of the committees organizing events for Niagara-on-the-Lake's 1812 Bicentennial. We have an excellent website that describes in colourful detail what will happen over the next three years. 

But I thought it might be helpful to provide a secretary's distillation of what, in my view, are likely to be the key events, events that you might like to consider attending.

On January 1, 2012,  the Ontario Lieutenant Governor, the Honourable David Onley, will hold his New Year's Levee, not in Toronto, but in Fort George, here in NOTL

United States President Madison declared war on Great Britain on June 18, 1812  and instructions were sent to the US military to invade Upper Canada. On the weekend of June 15, 16, and 17, 2012, the Bicentennial gets its official kickoff with grand opening celebrations we are calling the DECLARATION OF WAR! 

There will be a Military Ball in honour of General Brock put on by our Museum on the evening of June 16th. There will be a rich assortment of military and other events during Saturday and Sunday.

On July 13, 14, 15, 2012, in the Niagara River below Fort George there will be an event called The Navy of 1812: Sailors on the Lakes with at least 7 tall ships and 20 large bateaux.

Then the fighting starts!

In July, August, and September of 1812, there were some interesting and significant battles in other parts of the Great Lakes (for example, on August 16, 1812, General Brock persuaded the commandant of  Fort Detroit, General Hull, to surrender by pretending that he had far more troops than he in fact had)  but it was the Battle of Queenston Heights on October 13, 1812 that convinced the residents of Upper Canada that the Americans were not invincible. A recent book makes this point in its title, "12 Hours That Saved a Country" 

There will be a re-staging of this battle during the weekend of October 12 and 13, 2012 with over a thousand re-enactors coming from Canada and the US. It may be hard to get a position near the battle because of the tens of thousands of visitors expected but there will be lots to see in NOTL, especially in and around Fort George----and of course there will also be the Shaw!!

There will be a re-enactment of Brock's funeral on October 14th with his 'body' being carried on a horse-drawn wagon from the site of the battle in Queenston to a ceremonial 'burial' in Fort George.

In May 1813, the war turned against Upper Canada. The Americans, returning with stronger forces and better generals, captured Fort George, and occupied what is now Niagara-on-the-Lake.

In June 1813 in Queenston, Laura Secord overheard American officers, who had commandeered her house, planning an attack on the British/Canadian forces near the site of today's Brock University. Her famous walk through the bush and up the escarpment to warn the British/Canadian troops will be celebrated on June 22, 2013 with the Laura Secord Bicentennial Event and Walk.

To mark the Occupation of NOTL, Canadian flags will be taken down in May 2013, and only US flags of the period will be flown. Students dressed as US soldiers will patrol the streets of NOTL giving out leaflets telling the 'occupied' citizens how they must behave (e.g. no union jacks, no subversive toasts to the king etc.). Canadian and American tourists should enjoy this.

In December 1813 the tide of battle turned,  as British and Canadian forces fought their way back to NOTL. On December 10th, the US forces, frightened by the advancing troops, abandoned Fort George and fled across the Niagara River to Fort Niagara. Before fleeing, they burned almost all the homes and businesses in NOTL and Queenston, leaving the residents without shelter at the start of a hard winter.

On December 7, 2013, we will be staging a Son et Lumière, "Niagara on Fire", at the NOTL Courthouse with videos depicting the burning of the towns and the hardship caused to the residents.

Both Canadian and American historians agree that the burning of NOTL was a colossal military blunder. It can be argued that if the Battle of Queenston Heights convinced the residents of Upper Canada that the forces of the US were not invincible, then the burning of NOTL and Queenston convinced them that they had no choice but to expel the invaders, and build a separate nation.

The War of 1812 was ended by the signing of the Treaty of Ghent by Britain and the US on December 24th. The treaty was ratified by the US Congress on February 16, 1815.

Although the treaty wasn't ratified until February 1815, peace was effectively restored in the Niagara Peninsula in the summer of 1814. We have decided therefore to commemorate the signing at some point in September 2014 (dates not yet decided) when the weather will be more pleasant. This will be an enormous Bi-National event to celebrate 200 years of peace, with, we hope, the President of the US and the Prime Minister of Canada.

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Niagara-on-the-Lake is not a big town---only 15,000 souls---but it loves its history and it thinks big.

The next three years are going to be exciting!

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If you would like to learn more about the War of 1812, I would suggest checking PBS program listings to see when they will be re-broadcasting their superb video, The War of 1812, first shown in October this year. We decided to buy a copy, to keep (available through PBS or Amazon for about $20).

I would also recommend Cameron Porteous', "12 Hours That Saved a Country", mentioned above---a slim book, illustrated with paintings by Porteous. The author, who has a home in Queenston, has worked hard to get his facts right and to give us a vivid, visual understanding of what happened during those critical 12 hours.

For a definitive (in my opinion) account of the war, I would recommend Professor Alan Taylor's book "The Civil War of 1812". You may wish to check my Posting #96 in which I discussed attending a lecture by Prof. Taylor on his book.

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See you on February 12, 2012 for Posting #135 with more stories from our family’s universe! If you have comments or suggestions, please leave a comment at the bottom of this posting,  or email me at johnpathunter@gmail.com.

Note:

I have just uploaded Posting # 6 on my The Icewine Guru blog. You can read the Guru's year-end thoughts at http://theicewineguru.blogspot.com/

POSTING #133

Tours for Foreign Officials---Lighter Moments

As a consultant, I always enjoyed organizing and then leading tours of foreign officials to Canada. Perhaps because I am naturally a little nosey, it was fun to tour schools, colleges, universities, factories, hi-tech firms, government departments and on and on.

It could be challenging, trying to make sure the visitors gathered the information and knowledge they wanted.

But there were lighter moments as well.

Here are a couple.

Slave For a Day

A group  of employment experts from Jordan came to Canada in 2005 for a two week tour designed to illustrate how Canada prepares its young people for the world of work.

The Jordanian group on the deck at our Grimsby home with Pat and me in the middle. The photo was taken by the husband of the woman (Samaya) who is seated next to Pat. Thanks,Waleed!

One of the issues the group wanted to study was the career guidance approach used by our secondary schools.

In consultation with some local experts, I chose a medium-sized high school in the Niagara Peninsula that was supposed to do a particularly fine job of preparing students for post-secondary studies or for entry into the labour market. The principal and the head of guidance were both enthusiastic about receiving a group of Jordanians.

When we arrived at the school. the principal welcomed us and made it plain that every thing was open to the visitors. They could go anywhere they wanted, and talk to anyone they wished.

The visit then began with a tour of the school. The visitors knew from their pre-visit briefings that there wouldn't be the strict separation of male and female students that one finds in Jordan. But I could see that they were taken aback by the reality of seeing boys and girls strolling along the halls together chatting, sometimes holding hands, or by the sight of a fellow and a girl having a quiet chat, their heads together, in front of a locker.

We visited a lab where a mixed gender team was building a rocket as part of a project on space exploration. Then on to the media department where another mixed gender team was making a movie in a studio with cameras and sound equipment. And then to a computer lab where girls and fellows were rattling away on keyboards, probably dreaming about developing the next big software program.

I could see that the visitors were impressed by the sophistication of the work being done by the Canadian students.

As the tour went on, the visitors seemed to relax, and to accept the mixing of genders.

At lunch time, the head of the culinary department told us that the students would be preparing and serving our lunch. He made a point of saying that everything we would be eating had been selected and prepared in accordance with Islamic dietary rules. He led us to the dining room, where we enjoyed a delicious lunch of salad, poached salmon and dessert. The student-servers, both male and female, didn't have the aplomb of restaurant staff but they were earnest, charming and friendly---and they got the job done.

After lunch we met with the head of career guidance. She discussed the methods she used to try to help students define their career goals, and how she kept track of them during their years at the school. In the question and answer session, there was a lively discussion about the effectiveness of different tests used in Canada and Jordan to measure things like career preferences and aptitudes.

The visit had gone well.

The visitors were clearly impressed with what they had seen. I was impressed as well, as I thought of the facilities and services offered back in the 1950s in the Arthur District High School. We had some fine, dedicated teachers but teaching aids pretty much started and ended with a blackboard and chalk.

Toward the end of our visit, the head of guidance accompanied us as we made our way down the main hall to our bus. I was feeling good, the event had been even more successful than I had hoped.

Then we saw a girl and a bizarre companion coming towards us.

When we got closer we could see that the companion was a tall, husky young fellow wearing a blouse, short skirt and nylons (with hairy legs showing through) and lots of lipstick. He was carrying a pile of books.

The visitors stopped and stared, their mouths open. The pre-visit studying they had done about gender equality in Canada hadn't prepared them for this.

I leaned over and whispered to the head of guidance, "What's going on?"

She stopped the young couple, explained that these were education officials from the Kingdom of Jordan and she was sure they would like to know why the young fellow was dressed as he was.

The girl explained that as part of the United Way charity fund raising campaign, the students in her class had decided to have a 'buy-a-slave-for-a-day-auction'. She had successfully bid for the young fellow and she had 'ordered' him to wear women's clothes, makeup etc. He was now carrying her books to the school bus.

The head of guidance asked the young fellow whether he had submitted his university applications, and whether, despite his football (I gather he was one of the star players), he was keeping his grades up.

He calmly assured her that everything was under control.

We said goodbye and moved on to our bus, with the visitors chatting amongst themselves in Arabic trying to make sense of what they had just seen.

I imagine that when they think back to that high school visit, the first image that will pop into their minds won't be the labs.

It will be the young fellow with the lipstick and the hairy legs.

Hopefully, their next thoughts will be about the labs and the school's effective program of career guidance.

Hopefully!

A Sleeping Bag for East of Siberia

One of the members of a group of Russian employment officials, for whom I organized a visit in 1996, was a burly fellow from the Russian Far East---beyond Siberia---who wanted to buy a sleeping bag while he was in Canada.

He explained that he was a hunter, and that he liked to camp overnight in the woods in winter waiting for deer or some other game. He needed a sleeping bag that would protect him against the extreme cold of the region. There were sleeping bags in Russia but they were of poor quality and not warm enough for night-time camping. He asked me where he could get a really good bag.

I thought of Canadian Tire but decided that he probably needed a store that specialized in fitting out people for rugged outdoor adventures, a place like Mountain Equipment Co-Op. One of our sons, who lived in Toronto, said he knew the location of one of their stores---on Front Street at the time.

The group was going to be in Toronto after a spell in Ottawa, and, since I had to do something with the rest of the group,  I asked our son if he would mind taking the Russian visitor to the store, accompanied by an interpreter.

At the store, the Russian fellow sorted through the selection of sleeping bags and settled on a down-filled mummy-type bag that was wide at the shoulders, narrow at the feet with a zip up hood. As the interpreter translated data about the maximum temperatures for which it was recommended, the man went over the stitching and padding from top to bottom. He nodded that he was happy with the bag. The price, which was substantial, didn't seem to bother him.

Our son thought that his mission was just about over. Just get the man and the bag to the cashier and that would be that. He pointed to the nearest cashier, but the Russian shook his head.

He gestured that he wanted to try the bag.

Then in one of the store's main aisles he placed the bag on the floor. With people walking around him, he proceeded to clamber into the bag. When he was completely inside the bag, he zipped up the hood and lay back. Then he rolled on his side, and then on his stomach.

After a few minutes, he unzipped the hood and emerged, hot and red-faced from the bag. "Is good", he said.

At the cashier's desk he pulled out a wad of Canadian cash and carefully counted out the correct amount. As the cashier was counting the money, the man was engaged in a happy and loud discussion---in Russian---with the interpreter. This distracted the cashier a little and she had to start re-counting the money. Finally, the money was deposited in the cash register and the cashier folded the purchase into a large plastic bag.

Our son pointed to the nearest exit. The Russian fellow grabbed the bag, and continuing his discussion with the interpreter started to leave the store.

As he passed through the security sensors at the door, an alarm went off.

According to our son, a very loud alarm!

The man and the interpreter paid no attention to the alarm. At that time in Russia, store security was handled by tough-looking guards with revolvers on their hips.

But our son paid attention to the alarm.

As did various store employees who started running to the door.

Our son grabbed the man and explained that there was a problem and they would have to return to the cashier. The interpreter explained but the man protested, "I pay!"

Back at the cash register, the cashier searched the sleeping bag and found a plastic sensor that she should have removed. Embarrassed, she detached the sensor, and apologized to the Russian man.

For his part, he took the whole thing stoically, shrugging as much as to say, "These Canadians have crazy customs."

Later on, after the Russian and the interpreter were safely back in their hotel, our son phoned and gave me a blow-by-blow account of the adventure.

I apologized for getting him involved in all that excitement, explaining that I thought it would be a simple purchase.

He laughed and said he had enjoyed every minute of it.

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See you on December 18th for Posting #134 with more stories from our family’s universe! If you have comments or suggestions, please leave a comment at the bottom of this posting,  or email me at johnpathunter@gmail.com.

Note:

Hot off the press!! See the latest Posting (#6) on The Icewine Guru blog: "Year-End Thoughts from The Guru" at http://theicewineguru.blogspot.com/

POSTING #132

Arthur's Blind Newspaper Editor

Years ago when we lived in the Glebe in Ottawa, our boys used to shovel snow for homes on our street and on Clemow, the street behind us. One day, when Pat was driving along Clemow with one of the boys, Pat pointed to a house and said, "Celia Franca lives there".  (Ms Franca was a famous ballerina and founder of the National Ballet of Canada---and one of Pat's idols when she was studying ballet.)

Our son contradicted her, '"That's not Celia Franca's house, that's Mrs Morton's house. I shovel her driveway."

Of course, Celia Franca and Mrs Morton were one and the same. Our son just didn't know that the woman who paid him for shoveling snow was a celebrity.

I feel a little like our son when I think back to Rixon Rafter, the editor of Arthur's weekly newspaper, "The Enterprise News'. When I was young, I knew that Mr. Rafter was blind. He wore frosted glasses and carried a white cane as he walked along our main street.

I remember marveling at how he seemed to know---to have memorized---the location of curbs, and steps. And how he knew when it was safe to cross intersections. 

Rixon Rafter in his office, talking to his clerk. Photo is from "Memories of Arthur and Area" by John Walsh.

But to a young fellow, he was just another interesting person in a village full of fascinating people---a grocer nicknamed 'Jigger' because he was always on the move, a butcher who also played goal for the Arthur Tigers hockey team, Letty who drove his Model T Ford to the cemetery whenever a grave had to be dug, and on and on.

It was when 'outsiders' started making a fuss about this blind editor of a newspaper that I started to realize that Mr. Rafter was someone special. The Toronto radio station, CFRB, featured Rixon Rafter on one of its regional programs with the interviewer (Gordon Sinclair, I believe) marvelling at how a sightless person was able to edit and publish a newspaper. Newspaper articles appeared saying that Arthur had the only blind newspaper editor in all of Canada.

It dawned on me that he was special.

Someone to be proud of.

And he was one of ours.

Rixon Rafter was born on a farm outside of Arthur in 1885, one of 9 children. (For this background information I am indebted to John Walsh, an Arthur pharmacist, who has written two wonderful volumes entitled "Memories of Arthur and Area". Incidentally, John coached hockey and baseball teams that I played on.)

At age 5, Rixon lost the sight of both eyes because of a farm accident. He was enrolled in the Brantford School for the Blind (now the W. Ross MacDonald School for the Blind), "where he excelled in his studies, especially Braille and typing and developed the memory skills that were to be a great assistance in his later career." He was apparently greatly influenced by the story of Helen Keller, who although blind, deaf and unable to speak had graduated from an American university the year Rixon finished his course at Brantford. 

He entered Queen's University in 1903 and graduated with a BA in English and History in 1907. The following year he bought the Arthur Enterprise News and operated it until he sold it in 1953.

For most of those years the office consisting of Rixon, a skilled typesetter, and a clerk (one of his sisters was his first clerk). The typesetter and clerk were his 'eyes', reading him articles from newspapers and magazines.

Rixon was the paper's reporter. He would go to council meetings, and in an era before tape recorders, memorize the discussions and decisions. Then he would go to the office and type a report on the meeting (his typewriter is preserved in a local museum).

He was also active in the community, serving for a number of years on the board of the Arthur High School, on the Arthur Board of Trade, and on the Public Utilities Commission.

Beyond Arthur, he was President of the North Wellington Conservative Association, served on the Board of the Canadian National Institute for the Blind, and at one time was president of the regional organization for the Boy Scouts.

Rixon Rafter was also a keen, skilled and competitive bridge player, with the players using a Braille deck of cards. His phenomenal memory allowed him to keep track of which cards had been played, and which had not.

And through two world wars and a depression he kept the newspaper afloat, fueled by a very modest annual subscription and advertisements for local businesses, house and auction sales, government announcements and so on.

In 1954, Mr. Rafter was chosen Newspaper Editor of the Year by a group of writers meeting in London Ontario.

One wit has said that in a small town no one reads the weekly paper to find out what is going on---they already know that, thanks to the intricate and highly effective gossip networks that always exist. Instead, they read the paper to find out how (and sometimes, whether) the editor will deal with 'delicate' news. Mr. Rafter was particularly skilled at dealing with accidents, arrests, fights, illness, suicides etc. in ways that protected the affected families from additional stress and pain.

In the fall of 1958, I was working on a BA thesis on the United Farmers of Ontario (UFO), a movement that governed Ontario from 1919 to 1923. One of the founders of the movement was a farmer from south of Arthur, J.J. Morrison. Unfortunately, when I started doing my research I found that little had been written about the movement---several books have been published since---and I had to spend a lot of time doing original research, reading dusty copies of the Globe and Mail, perusing family archives, and talking to people who were involved in the movement.

I thought that Rixon Rafter might be able to offer me some insights so I phoned him during a visit to my parents and asked if we could meet. He agreed to meet the following evening. He was 70 at that time and  as I have mentioned above, was retired, having sold the newspaper in 1953. I hadn't really had any conversations with Mr. Rafter up to that point---just brief contacts as I handed over my parents' annual subscription fee, or submitted advertisements from a store where I worked after school.

It was in December and the sun had long since set when I walked over to his substantial brick home. The house was in total darkness and I wondered if he had forgotten about our appointment. I rang the door bell and a few moments later the porch light came on and then a light in the hall.

I can still remember being struck by the realization that he didn't need lights---that he lived in the dark.

Mr. Rafter opened the door, wearing the usual frosted glasses and looking courtly in a suit and tie. He held out his hand and I grasped it.

He invited me in, and led the way to the parlour, turning on lights as he went. He pointed to an upholstered chair and settled himself in a chair beside a table piled high with papers and magazines in Braille.

I took out my notebook and scribbled away as he gave me a fund of invaluable information and interpretation about the factors that led to the election of a UFO government and about how it had performed in office---its successes and failures. His memory of names and dates was flawless. He smiled sometimes as he inserted into his account amusing anecdotes about some of the main participants in the UFO.

I tested some theories I was toying with for my thesis about what can happen when social movements decide to get actively involved in politics. He seemed to enjoy discussing those theories.

After an hour or so, I thanked him. He showed me out.

When I got to the sidewalk, I looked back at the house, and found that it was once again in total darkness.

Mr. Rafter, who never married, died in 1963, after a short illness, aged 75.

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What to make of this man who I---and perhaps other people in Arthur---took for granted?

When I tell people about Arthur's blind newspaper editor, they look at me in disbelief. How could someone do that?

And then I say that he did it for over 40 years.

He had a remarkable intelligence and great personal determination, qualities that were obviously recognized by the School for the Blind and by Queen's University.

And he had the example of Helen Keller. She would certainly have been proud of him, and thrilled that she had inspired him to become the first blind newspaper editor in Canada.

But in the end, his success, I think, comes down to one factor.

An unbelievable amount of raw courage.

And that courage meant that although he lived in the dark, he spread light for all those around him.

Postscript

A scholarship has been established in his memory. Here is an extract from a website about the scholarship. Please note the last three words, which I have highlighted. Mr. Rafter would certainly have agreed with that requirement.

"Rixon Rafter Scholarship Fund

Named in honor of a graduate from the Ontario School for the Blind (now the W. Ross School for the Blind), this scholarship is available for Canadian students who are legally blind and who are pursuing post-secondary studies.  Candidates should demonstrate strong career aspirations."

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See you on December 11th for Posting #133 with more stories from our family’s universe! If you have comments or suggestions, please leave a comment at the bottom of this posting,  or email me at johnpathunter@gmail.com.

Note:

Have you read the latest Posting on The Icewine Guru blog? You can read "Are Canadian Politics Dull?" at http://theicewineguru.blogspot.com/