South Huron’s sounds of success

School bands bring home gold, two silvers, and big awards from MusicFest Canada Story and photos by Casey Lessard

They’re the best percussion ensemble in Canada, and they’re right here in our backyard. Led by music director Isaac Moore and coach Dave Robilliard, South Huron District High School’s percussionists won the Zildjian Outstanding Percussion Section Award at this year’s MusicFest Canada national competition in Ottawa May 22; graduating student Jon Gill of Grand Bend, who is attending UWO for music in the fall, won the Zildjian Outstanding Percussionist Award. Judge and seminar leader Wayne Toews called the group the best student percussion ensemble in Canada, and could challenge any group in the world. If that’s the case, says Robilliard, it’s because the students are fully committed to success. “We challenge our students in a way that other percussion ensembles I’ve seen in Canada are not challenged,” says Robilliard. “We give them – and they’ve requested – very difficult material that requires extra time and rehearsal on their time. It’s one of the best things (judge) Wayne Toews has seen in high school percussion ensembles, so in his eyes, it’s world class. It’s a very flattering statement.” The accolades came hours after performing at the nationals; the percussionists performed last and earned a gold standard, while two other groups led by Moore and fellow teacher Matt Weston – the senior concert band and senior jazz bands – performed earlier the same day, each earning the silver award. “A lot of kids in the music program are goal-oriented students,” says Moore, “and they respond well to having a goal. Whether we go to nationals or regionals, that goal is one of the things that motivate them to continue to get better. MusicFest Canada is on a different level because you have 10,000 kids from across Canada who are passionate about music. Something really special gets created when you put them together in the same place.” To compete at nationals, the bands had to earn either gold or high silver with invitation at the regional competition in London. When the nationals are held in Ottawa, South Huron finds it convenient to attend, and a great experience as well. “Ottawa is a great place to play, and the National Arts Centre is one of the best concert halls in the country, as it should be,” Moore says. “The experience of playing in that building and hearing other bands in that building, it’s incredible for them. It’s probably something a lot of them won’t have the opportunity to do again, so it’s important for me that every student experience the nationals if possible.” During the years when the competition is not in Ottawa, Moore and Weston take the music students on non-MusicFest trips, including last year’s trip to Chicago. It’s part of Moore’s mission to give a rounded music education. “A teacher I had while at university asked, are you giving your students a fantastic four-year band program, or are you giving your students a fantastic band program for four years, as in the same program for four years,” he says. “A lot of what we do is based on routine and tradition, and it called into question for me how you maintain tradition and routine, but also offer the kids a different experience over the four years they are here. It opened my mind to the different options of where kids can go and what they can learn. In the four years you’ve got, you can do a lot.” This year’s trip to the nationals was the second for Robilliard, whose father Bob was music director at South Huron for many years. After returning to Canada from graduate school in Oklahoma, Dave Robilliard joined Moore and Weston – the three studied percussion together at UWO – three years ago to lighten their load. “I am able to focus on techniques and sound concepts that Isaac and Matt can’t focus on in the large classroom or band settings,” says Robilliard, who, unlike education majors Moore and Weston, pursued performance at university. He now works with the Stratford and International Symphonies, serves as a substitute for the Kitchener and Windsor Symphonies, and performs in a percussion group called DuO. His contribution has led to great success for the students. “We received a gold standard in 2008,” he says, “which was my first year working with percussion ensemble. There was still a large number of carryover of students this year – Jon Gill, Joe Pavkeje and Jeff Penn – and we won gold again. But we don’t do it for the awards. We want to see students grow as musicians and see their confidence grow on stage.” While South Huron has a full trophy case – and that’s just from this year – Moore agrees that they’re not looking for pats on the back. “The real measure of success is how we feel about our performances when we’re done. I measure our success as a teacher how we fare when we compete at a higher level (the 2008 bronze winning senior concert band competed in a higher bracket this year and earned silver). If we were not taking the kids to an uncomfortable place, it would be an exercise in self-confidence. It makes more sense to shoot a little beyond where you might be so you can develop.” The success can be attributed to the approach of the teachers, and the commitment of the students. “It’s a lot of practice, a lot of one-on-one with your section and Mr. Moore,” says graduating student Trish Pavkeje, who performed in the concert and jazz bands. “It helps that Mr. Moore and Mr. Weston are easy to talk to. It’s easy to ask them for help.” “Everyone’s on the same level and enjoys being there with everyone else,” says Joe Pavkeje, a member of all three groups, winner of the national honour award for the jazz band, and SHDHS student of the year. “Our school isn’t segregated into athletic kids and music kids. Everyone is doing everything. It feels cohesive for that reason.” Clarinet player Stephanie Pratt agrees. “Kids from all over the school are in this, so you get a sense of diversity,” Pratt says, noting music is attractive because of the lessons you learn. “Self-discipline is important, you learn a lot of patience and togetherness.” For Stephen Mills, who has experienced bullying at school, the inclusivity makes the music room a refuge. “We have to work together to do anything in the band,” Mills says. “We all have to talk to each other, and when you have to talk to someone, you appreciate them for who they are.” And that’s exactly what Isaac Moore wants to hear. “If a student is willing to commit themselves to the educational experience, we try not to discriminate in any way. Students can find their place in the band based on their strengths and weaknesses. Without your strong players and weaker players, you can’t maintain consistency. Eventually the weak players become strong and take over the leadership roles.” Now that many members of the successful bands are graduating, Moore, Weston and Robilliard look to the future. “We take it year by year,” Robilliard says. “The younger students will now have an opportunity to succeed at a higher level than they’ve had in the past. We’re going to do a lot of different pieces in different styles, and give everyone an opportunity to learn and grow.”

The ballad of Slim Gordon

Some of you may recognize the name Murray “Slim” Gordon Lewis from his long and storied career as a musician in Ontario and across North America. For others, like the editor’s parents, he was your insurance salesman.Slim Gordon, as he was called, was born in 1926 in Yarmouth County, Nova Scotia. Today, he lives alone in an apartment in Exeter. In December, he was diagnosed with cancer. A fellow reader, Diane Lovie thought you might like to hear his story.

As told to Casey Lessard Portraits by Casey Lessard WSM images courtesy Slim Gordon

I had my own radio program when I was six years old in Yarmouth, Nova Scotia. I had been performing with other kids on a children’s program every Saturday afternoon, and the Rawleigh man came to the house one day. He was so used to our place that he just walked in. My mother played the pump organ and she was teaching me a new song I was going to learn for the program on Saturday. When we were done, my brother came into the parlour room to tell us that he was out there, so we went into the kitchen. He had been listening to the rehearsal. I was a boy soprano and he said to my mother, “The radio station is looking for someone to star in a program, and my wife plays piano for them.” He said, “Why don’t you bring your son down some evening and let my wife hear him?” She took me down and I got the program. I did that for two years. The announcer was also the announcer for the show with the children. He retired to Newfoundland, so they didn’t have an announcer to do the kid’s shows. He was very good at it. I remember they didn’t have an adjustable microphone. It was a set height. If they stood me on a chair, I was too tall. If they didn’t stand me on a chair, I was too short. They had to sit me on the announcer’s lap to do the program. He was adjustable.

Boston-bound When I was 15, I decided to start my own band. I rented a country hall for $5 per night, and we made our own posters. We had a full house. We charged 25 cents admission, and made $7 each. Farmer’s helpers were working a whole month for $10. This was 1941. We didn’t have electric instruments. Everything was acoustic. It was a rousing success. When I was 17, we had a dairy farm and a milk route and delivered milk by the bottle. I met a customer one Sunday, and his wife told him I sang cowboy music. There was no such thing as country music at the time. John lived in Boston, Massachusetts. He said I ought to go to the radio station and get a program on the radio. I stayed with my uncle, who lived in Boston. While there, John took me to a country outfitters. My father gave me $100 to buy western pants, a western shirt, belt and boots, and a new guitar. John took me to a photographer and I had my picture taken. He took my picture around to the different nightclubs and tried to book me. Damned if he didn’t! I played a different nightclub every night. I was 17 and too young to drink, but that didn’t matter. He took me to WMEX radio, and a fellow named Gene LaVerne had a country band and did a country show every day at noon. He listened to me sing and told me he didn’t have any work for me, but he got me some bookings. John got me booked on the Boston Barn Dance, which was broadcast from the Armories every Wednesday night. I did one show and then the next week. We were leaving to come back to the house, and there were three girls standing in the lobby. One girl came over, shook my hand, and said her name was Betty Lee. “I’m going to be doing a tour of Nova Scotia,” she said. “We’re going to be doing a radio show there and we’re looking for a boy who can sing, play guitar and act as straight man for our comedian.” How much do you pay?, I asked. “You get $25 a week, even if you don’t work the whole six days. And you won’t have to worry about the fare back to Yarmouth because we have our own car.” So I had a job. The next year, she was planning a U.S. tour, but I couldn’t get a work permit to work in the U.S. because they were still under wartime rules. The company I was working for offered me a position in Hamilton, and I took the chance. I worked for Cosmos Imperial Mills and I ran a loom that wove felt that was 40’ wide by 200’. It was used in paper mills.

The move to Ontario I came to Hamilton in 1948 and started my band in 1949. We were doing a Saturday night show with three other bands at CKPC radio in Brantford. The Cockshutt plow company was hosting a show and they wanted a country band. The plowing match was coming up in Paris, and the announcer thought it would be fair to run a contest for the four bands to do the job. The audience chose. We got the job. We had sporadic work. We rehearsed in case something came up. Then the band started pestering me. “We’ve been rehearsing two to three nights a week for two years. Are we ever going to go out and get jobs working nightclubs or something?” So I thought, well, we have a big enough repertoire – I could do 500 songs myself – maybe I should go see what I can do. We had an audition at Hanrahan’s Tavern, and we got our first job. I told him what our price was and he accepted it. We didn’t have an argument. We had a two-week gig, which was normal. The first week, I noticed a guy came in and sat at the bar. He looked like a businessman. He came again the next night. He said, “I’m Harold Kudlutz, I book bands.” He became our agent. He booked us for quite a long time. I had a good paying job because not a lot of people can weave felt. Now I had a problem. Halfway through the second week at Hanrahan’s, I was bushed. I went to my factory manager and explained the situation. I asked for Wednesday mornings off to get a day that I could sleep in and catch up. I didn’t want to quit what I was doing because I had been working toward it for a long time. He agreed to it. Then, by golly, we started getting bookings in Toronto. So I went back to him. “Now what do you need,” he says. “Well,” I told him, “I’ll make it short and to the point. Can I get a six-month leave of absence?” It’s quite a question to ask someone. He said, “I suppose if I don’t give it to you, you’re going to quit.” I told him, “I guess you’re right.” He gave it to me. That was the end of working in a factory. I never went back. By this point, I had been married a long time. Since 1950. We met when I was trying to start a show in Hamilton at a supper club with a dance floor. I was hoping it would be a success, but it bombed. We ran it for four nights. My best friend was putting up the money for it, and he wasn’t a rich man. Rita Muir was a girlfriend of my competitor, Mike Patoma. He came to one of the shows, and brought her and her girlfriend. He took me down and introduced me to her. It was a mistake on his part, if he was serious. But then, it was a big mistake on my part because I married her. We were married for 12 years. Twelve years of pure hell. We had three daughters, but the last one, Leslie, wasn’t mine. That was the end of the marriage. That didn’t stop me from loving the little girl. She had nothing to do with it. When we broke up, Rita took Leslie with her. Last January, one of my daughters died of cancer. The night of her memorial, some of the family came and Leslie came, too. I said, “The last time I saw you, you were 10 years old.” She said, “I remember the last time I saw you.” I asked how old she was, and she said 52. I said, “I haven’t seen you for 40 years.” She looked the same. I couldn’t believe it. Forty years. And she still felt like my daughter. She threw her arms around my neck and stood there and cried. It had to be 20 minutes. I haven’t seen her since.

Hit the road, Slim (After my marriage ended,) I did a tour with George Jones and one with Hank Snow, each for a month. I’m still playing nightclubs, but now I play Toronto a lot. We didn’t have a holiday for two years, so I went back to Oshawa, where I bought a house. I gave Rita the house in Hamilton to take care of the girls. I used to run Saturday night shows in the Red Barn. In the fall of ’64, a fellow came who owned a dude ranch north of Kirkland Lake. He wanted to know whether the band and I would do a TV show from the ranch as a form of advertising. We settled on a price for Sunday night. The guy was going to try to pull a fast one on me. If you’re in this business long enough, you get wise to this stuff. He wrote me a cheque that night when the show was finished. I was up the next morning when the bank opened and I went into the bank. The teller told me they couldn’t honour any more cheques from him. I could see his idea of the TV show, but not with my money. Back to the ranch. I pull into the yard of the ranch, and he’d just come out of the ranch house with a metal cash box in his hand, heading for the bank. He said, “Where’ve you been?” I said, “To the bank, they wouldn’t honour your cheque.” He told me to come back into the ranch house and he’d give me cash. All smiles, I told him that would suit me just dandy. His wife stood there gritting her teeth.

We wound up in Hearst, the last jumping off point in Ontario. You either have to turn east or west; you can’t go north, no highway. I met a guy who came and asked if he could play banjo on my show. His name was Smiley Bates. Not too many guys running around playing the five-string banjo. Hard to play. He said, “I play everything. If it’s got strings on it, I play it.” And he did. He played them all equally well. I needed a smaller band to play nightclubs, so I thought I’d hire him. Before I left Hearst, I had a booking at the Franklin Hotel in Kirkland Lake. I had two weeks off and I was in Oshawa. My agent called and said the band playing the Queen’s Hotel in Seaforth was from the United States and their banjo player ruptured his appendix. They can’t play a show without him. He asked if we would fill in. And here I thought we’d have two weeks off. We had a ball. The second night we were there, Smiley said to me, “Did you see the blonde that came in here?” I said, “I’m not bothered with women, I just came through a bad marriage.” He said, “She’s really something. She’s got blonde hair she can sit on.” And she did. I like long hair. He said he’d take me down and introduce me during the break. That was his mistake. I sat and talked to her until my break was over. She had a good head, and she was real pretty. Her name was Lydia Roelofs. Dutch. She was a dandy. When we got married, she was 20 and I was 40. They told me I was robbing the cradle. We were married for 34 years. Had two kids that made us proud. Their mother, I give the credit for that because I was on the road all the time. I took three weeks off, and thought, I can’t subject Lydia to life on the road. If I take her to Oshawa and dump her in my apartment, I don’t know when I’m going to get back and that wouldn’t be fair to her. I thought if she could stay in Exeter, that would work out because she has friends here, went to high school here.

End of the line In 1970, I got booked in Vietnam, so I took it. The money was damn good. I was going to be entertaining American troops. It was busy. You flew somewhere every day of the week. If you couldn’t fly, you took a train or a van. I was by myself, no road band. A lot of clubs had house bands. You want to talk about bands? Get a Japanese or Filipino country band; as good as anything in Nashville. Couldn’t speak a word of English. Well, there was always one guy who could speak enough that you could get by, but other than that, no. Did that for 17 weeks. The closest I came to being in danger that I know of, I was flying from Manila in the Philippines to Taipei, Taiwan. When we got there, my road manager came running as I came down the gangplank. He said, “We were really worried. We didn’t know if you were going to get here or not.” I said, why? He said, “What time did you leave Manila?” Quarter past twelve. He said, “Well, they blew up the airport at 12:30.” I was over there in 1970 over Christmas, New Year’s, and my birthday, December 30. I missed my family, and I thought this is a stupid damn job. I’m 10,000 miles away from my family at Christmastime. I should start doing something else. I don’t think I’m ever going to be a big star. Just a little star. This is after 31 years in the business. I came home and didn’t do anything for a month. I told my wife I wasn’t going to do anything for a year. I was going back to college for woodworking. I’ve always loved woodworking all my life. I took a course in fine carpentry and cabinet making. I loved it. Made loads of stuff. I built my own house. I knew how to do that because we did it at school. I worked in insurance for 18 years until I retired. I lived in that house for 25 years.

A sudden change In 1999, Lydia died. Heart stopped. She hadn’t been sick. Doctor didn’t know there was anything wrong with her. It was two days before Christmas. Twenty-third of December. She was laying out her pies because we were going to have both of the children with their families. She said to me, “When you have your sandwich, could you go uptown and get the Christmas turkey?” Holtzmann’s had called and told us our fresh turkey had arrived from Hayter’s. It was 2:20 because I looked at my watch. I went uptown, got the turkey, came back home, and my wife was dead on the floor. That’s all the warning we had. The end of a happy marriage. I couldn’t believe it. It was days before I could think it wasn’t happening. A bad dream; I couldn’t wake up. Phoned the kids and told them. Thursday. Thursday afternoon. Couldn’t believe it. Thought I was safe. I’m going to die first, for sure, because there’s 20 years between us. I lived eight years in the house by myself. I was lonely there. The house had everything we wanted. Took me six and a half years to build it because I was working in the insurance office. All beams in the ceiling. A huge backyard. Four thousand square feet. Five bedrooms, pool room, a bar with more booze than some of the clubs I played in. But it became too much for me. I never thought I’d wind up like this (living in an apartment). I thought my wife and I would live in our house.

A new battle In December, I wasn’t feeling that well. I had trouble with my throat, and I went to the doctor. They decided to run some tests. First, they did an ultrasound. Then they found something. They did an x-ray and a CAT scan. The CAT scan nailed it down. She said, “You’ve got cancer.” In my kidney. I thought, you can haul one out and leave the other one. I went to the surgeon in London, Dr. Chin. He’s the top surgeon in London. I told him I’m a Jehovah’s Witness, so I don’t take blood. He said, “Just a moment. You don’t have to worry about the blood because I’m not going to operate. You’re 83 years old. Most people don’t realize how complex a kidney operation is. It’s a hell of a shock to your system. I think the shock would kill you.” Shit.

So here I sit. I’m looking at alternative medicine. Conventional medicine won’t look at that at all. It’s a hell of an attitude. They’re killing people doing that. It’s a pain in the ass, no, the kidney. When it comes to alternative health, you can control it through what you eat. The guy I’m dealing with now is Dr. Julian Whittaker in California. He’s been using this system for 30 years and never had a failure yet. I could be number one. I’m not cryin’. I’m a Jehovah’s Witness. I’m not afraid of dying anymore. I was apprehensive before, but I’m not afraid now. There’s no such thing as hell. I’ve got nothing to complain about. I’m happy I lived in the time that I lived. From 1926 to 2010, that’s a hell of a long time. Look at the changes I’ve seen. I think I’m pretty lucky.

Pinnacle of a career In 1962, I was running shows at the Red Barn in Oshawa Sunday nights in the wintertime. I was bringing in talent from Nashville and Wheeling; both had 50,000-Watt stations. I had booked Skeeter Davis, who had about five gold hits by then. She was going to be flying in Saturday evening. I couldn’t go pick her up because I was doing the radio show, so I sent my wife down to pick her up at the airport. She brought her up to the station, so she was there when I signed off. I had written and rewritten the signoff about five or six times. “Mama, put the kettle on, I’m coming home.” Thanked the people for listening. Skeeter is listening to this, and when I got finished, I looked at her and she had tears in her eyes. She said, “That’s the most beautiful close I’d ever heard. Could you do that again on a tape not going out on the air?” I did it. She took it home to Ralph, her husband, an all-night DJ at WSM Nashville. She played it for the board of directors. They said, that’s our next DJ. I got a telegram from WSM at the end of October asking me to come to Nashville September 2, 1962. Nashville voted me Mr. DJ USA. I’m the only Canadian that ever got that award. I did a one-hour broadcast as a DJ from Nashville. We had five or six Opry stars lined up for my show. Later, I walked out on the stage to perform at the Grand Ole Opry. In the floor of the stage at the Grand Ole Opry, there’s a circle there about 8’ to 10’ in diameter, where it’s new wood. That’s where all the stars perform because that’s centre stage. Walking out there, when you see that circle and you know you’re going to stand there, it gives me teardrops. You feel about two inches high. Really humble. I did a song, “I’ll Pretend There Was No Yesterday”. That was the pinnacle.

We’re all in this together

High School MusicalPresented by Drayton Entertainment Huron Country Playhouse May 19 to 30 Tickets: $39 for adults, $20 for under 18 Box office: 1-888-449-4463

Photos and story by Casey Lessard

Aiming for fame, more than 100 teenagers joined auditions in Exeter and Guelph for Drayton Entertainment’s summer presentation of Disney’s High School Musical, which runs at the Huron Country Playhouse May 19 to 30. After a weekend of auditions, including a full Sunday at South Huron District High School, 80 actors were chosen to join the P.E.P. Squad, the play’s chorus. “I saw it in the paper and right away I knew that it was something I had to do,” said Alicia Veens, 16, a student at North Lambton Secondary School in Forest. “I love the play a lot, and I love to sing. I love to dance, even though I’m not very good.” Veens and the rest of the teens had to show their abilities in both areas. Director and choreographer David Connolly and dance captain Michelle Black taught the audition attendees one of the routines those selected will be performing in the play, “We’re All In This Together”. “It was nerve-wracking,” said Viktor Coletta, a South Huron student from Parkhill. “I was scared out of my mind. I wasn’t expecting what they did. I felt better when we were in groups, but I think I did pretty good.” The Drayton team acknowledges the fear auditionees have. After all, for some, this is their first time trying out for a professional role. “We had kids coming to the door, still not convinced of whether they were going to do it at all,” Michelle Black said. “Still thinking it over and they got here. The fact is, they got the courage to learn the material and present at the end.” The process is not new for Grand Bend’s Meaghan Forrester. She was in the chorus of last season’s Oliver! “With my Oliver! audition, I screwed up, too, and let my performance suffer,” Forrester said. “This one I screwed up, but I felt my performance was better. You miss a step or have to catch up. “I hope I get in, but if I don’t, I’m applying to university and those auditions need work,” she added. “If I do get in, I plan to work a lot harder than I did on Oliver!, because we had a lot more time and it was less complicated. This will be less time and more complicated.” It seems Forrester impressed Connolly and Black; she was among those chosen to join the squad for eight performances this summer. But Connolly understands the pressure the audition process puts on a new performer. “These kids are making courageous choices to be here,” he said. “For some, it’s an obvious choice; their parents support them and they drove them and it was a no-brainer. There are others who moved mountains to get into that room. When you know what an audition is, it’s scary enough, but they don’t even know what an audition is and they’re walking into a room to put it all on the line.” Alicia Bradley, 17, of London put it on the line. The Central Secondary School student, who spends summers at a cottage in Grand Bend, has experience at the Grand Theatre in London, where she was a pianist. She was hoping to move from the orchestra pit to the stage. “I love to dance and sing, Bradley said. “I want to go into theatre at university, but I didn’t realize that until last year, so I’m trying to get my show experience now. I have a couple of auditions at Ryerson, York and U of T. I’m a dancer, so I thought this would be a good chance to get on stage.” Unfortunately, Bradley is not among those who will be on the Playhouse stage this summer. Neither will Beth Smallman, a South Huron student new to professional theatre. “I want to go into acting after high school,” Smallman said. “This was my first audition. I’ve been in a lot of drama things through school. I wanted to see what an audition is like and see whether I get it.” No matter, though. It was a worthy experience for the teen. “It went really well,” she said. “I learned a lot. I tried my hardest and it was a lot of fun.” That’s the kind of attitude David Connolly was looking for, even if it didn’t translate into a position with the cast. The overwhelming desire to succeed reminds Connolly of his early theatre years. “My first big audition was for Alan Lund at Kitchener-Waterloo Musical Productions. I had done some dancing with dance studios and competed a little, but Alan Lund was standing in front of me with Cynthia Toushan Brnjas, who was his assistant, and I didn’t even know that choreographers had assistants. I remember being in awe of that. I must have been so bad and awkward. But we’re looking for passion, someone who can’t think of anything else they’d rather do, and I must have had that.” It’s all about perspective, Michelle Black said. “If they did it again, it’s less of an audition and more of a workshop on life. Every time I spend time with David, I learn a little more about myself. Today, if they don’t get the show, the confidence they’ll get from being in the room with him is huge.” And it’s not for everyone. “We had a girl yesterday break down in the middle and say, ‘I can’t do this,’” Black said. “You can see that, for some of them, it’s terrifying.” It wasn’t a problem for Virginia Iredale of Exeter, who earned a spot on the squad. “The hardest part is keeping it all together,” the Grade 10 student said. “I don’t get embarrassed on stage. The easiest part was coming. I just decided, I’m going, my mom will bring me. Then it’s like, I’m here, guess I get to do it now.” Family support is important, and makes the process easier. “My mom made me (audition),” said Viktor Coletta. “I did this in London with Original Kids. I was Zeke Baylor, the cook. It’s a fun show, a lot of energetic people.” Alicia Veens came wearing a shirt that reads Born to be Famous. “My grandma bought me this shirt,” Veens said. “She loves what I do and hopes for the best for me. I want to be famous really bad.” And she knows what it takes to get there. “If you have it, you have it. You don’t have to be good looking, as long as you have the talent and believe in yourself.” Words David Connolly might argue were taken right out of his mouth. He hopes some kids discovered this about themselves during the audition process. “You can tell somebody they’re great, but that will never replace them feeling that they did it themselves,” he said. “That moment of doing it for themselves will stay with them.” Veens walked away wanting the moment to last. “I would love to get a letter in the mail saying I’ve made it. I’ve always wanted to be in a play like this.” “I’d like to see all the good people get it,” added Virginia Iredale. “I will definitely go see it now because it looks like fun.” No need to buy a ticket, Virginia, because you and Alicia are in it. Veens and Iredale were both added to the P.E.P. Squad roster. And yes, High School Musical looks like fun. To see it for yourself, visit http://www.draytonentertainment.com

Strip leads at OCNA awards

The Grand Bend Strip leads all community newspapers in Ontario with eight nominations for this year’s Ontario Community Newspaper Awards, including best overall paper (a first for the paper) and photographer of the year for Casey Lessard, a two-time runner-up for this award. The paper also recently won two national awards, first prize ad design and third for photo essay in the Canadian Community Newspapers Association Better Newspapers Competition.The top three OCNA entrants were announced March 1. The Parry Sound North Star has the second most nominations with seven. Winners will be announced at the OCNA’s annual conference in Toronto May 14. CCNA winners were announced March 15 and will receive their awards May 13 at the CCNA conference. To learn more about the Grand Bend Strip’s history of awards since its first publication in May 2007, visit http://grandbendstrip.com/about/awards.

The Grand Bend Strip and publisher Casey Lessard are nominated in the following categories:

Canadian Community Newspapers Association

Best Ad Design (circulation up to 3,999) 1st place – Casey365.com – ad promoting website Runners-up: The Chief (Squamish, BC), Wainwright Review (Wainwright, AB)

Best Photo Essay (circulation up to 3,999) 3rd place – Five days of good, clean fun – Parkhill Five Fun Days Winner: The Provost News (Provost, AB)

Ontario Community Newspapers Association

General Excellence (best overall) Class 1 [under 2,000 circulation] Other nominees: Cobden Sun, Manotick Messenger

Photographer of the Year Casey Lessard Other nominees: Belleville EMC and Peterborough This Week

Education Writing Chicago! – SHDHS music trip Other nominees: Parry Sound Beacon Star and Richmond Hill/Thornhill Liberal

Best Photo Layout Five days of good, clean fun – Parkhill Five Fun Days Other nominees: Ajax/Pickering News Advertiser and North York Mirror

Best Feature Photo (circ under 9,999) Best Seat in the House – Dashwood soap box derby cover photo Other nominees: Aylmer Express and Bracebridge Examiner

Best Sports Photo Hockey Night in Zurich – Mark Buruma in dressing room Other nominees: Brampton Guardian and Mount Forest Confederate

Best Rural Story (circ under 9,999) Fields of Gold – Marcus Koenig, potato farmer Other nominees: Listowel Banner and New Hamburg Independent

Best Creative Advertising (circ under 9,999) Casey365.com – ad promoting website Other nominees: Mount Forest Confederate and Nunavut News/North

The art of animal conversation

Crediton area rancher Julie Forrest is an animal communicator, which means she speaks with animals, expressing their thoughts to the people who take care of them. Forrest speaks to the animals – large or small – telepathically, and says they have a lot to say. She has used this skill to train the many horses and cattle on her farm, which are used as professional athletes on rodeo tours across Eastern Canada. Casey Lessard sat down with Julie Forrest, and invites you to sit back, open your mind and hear what she has to say about her work. As told to Casey Lessard Photos by Casey Lessard

I have communicated with animals since I was a kid, and I always thought everyone did. I didn’t realize it was a special gift or that I was different from anyone else. I always heard their voices. I’ve always heard them talk. People would say, I wonder what they’re saying and I’d say what they were saying. Everyone would laugh and I thought they heard it too, that it was no big deal. Then a friend of mine and I went away for the weekend to a course about 16 years ago, and it ended up being a telepathy course. I thought, I do that, but I didn’t know that was what it was called. I had always done it for family and friends, but from there I started doing it for other people. I came out of the closet. It was a very big social issue. People asked me, what makes you so special that you think you can talk to animals. But what I get from the conversations, it’s definitely a validation to the owners that that is their animal. They say one in 10 people can talk telepathically if they choose to focus. I can do people, but I choose not to for the simple fact that people are so hung up on themselves and the social or religious whatever. People are more critical. Animals say what they need to say. They don’t sugarcoat anything and they tell you like you need to hear it. End of subject. It’s not usually opinionated things. They’re telling the truth because animals show our truths. I always ask the animals to describe their essence, to tell me something that the owner knows they always do. It’s not like I go and tell them that they like to roll over and have their bellies scratched. Every animal’s different. Their response validates to the owner that it is their animal. Then we ask them their problems and what’s going on.

An ongoing conversation They can hear you all the time. Animals speak telepathically, so whatever you picture, they’re also able to pick that up. People say dogs can always sense when you’re afraid of them. Chances are pretty good that when you walk away from that dog that you’re thinking in your mind, please don’t bite me. You’re picturing this dog coming from behind and grabbing you, so you have actually given that dog permission to do that. You’re giving him that visual image. The level of a conversation from an animal is so much higher than we can imagine. They have so much more knowledge of the universe than we do. Some can be extremely deep. The owners will write up a list of questions they want to ask the animal and I sit down and write out the conversation so they have a copy of it and I always have a copy. I’ll read it back to the person and see if there are any other questions from that. It’s important that the animal is able to convey what they want their owner/guardian to know or understand about their problems. I always read it back first to be sure it’s explained on that proper level, the way they want it. You could put out a piece of paper and 10 different people could read it 10 different ways. That’s why I always want to interpret it the way it is meant to be interpreted. Every animal has its own voice. Some have accents. I did a horse that had a really strong English accent with ye and thee, and it’s important to put that in the conversation as I hear it because it means something to the owner. He ended up being shipped here from England. They all have different personalities the same as we do, so of course, they’re going to have different voices the same as we do. They speak English. I’ve done some from Quebec that are raised French and I ask them to come to me in a universal language that I can understand. There may still be the odd French word in there and I write it down as it sounds because I don’t understand French, but the owner will know what it means. There’s none that are ever too shy to talk. As soon as you’ve given them that opportunity, it’s like, ‘Oh my God, I can finally be heard. Yes! They’re getting it. I can convey what I want them to know.’ Animals all already speak on that level, and that’s why we have so much more to learn from them than from each other. The only animals that are really hard to work with are chickens and emus. I’ve done every other animal and they’re thrilled to be able to talk. I’ve done seven or eight pages of a conversation. Small animals like a cat or dog can take anywhere from 30 or 45 minutes to an hour. Some conversations with horses and dogs can take from two to four hours. I did a conversation with one horse that had hopes of being a Pan-Am horse racer and heading to the Olympics, and we talked for four and a half hours. That was almost a whole notebook. We wanted to make sure everything was covered.

Communication and rodeo I’ve been riding since I was three and showing competitively since I was seven. When Ed and I got together, he decided he wanted to do a more manly thing, so that was the rodeo and we’ve been together for 16 years now. We started off just competing in steer wrestling, barrel racing, and roping events, and it’s been about nine or 10 years now that we’ve been the stock contractors for the rodeos for Eastern Canada. We supply the stock (steers and calves) for the rodeos for steer wrestling, team roping, breakaway roping, tie-down roping and junior steer riding. That covers five of the seven mandatory events. We have always integrated the two businesses, communicating and rodeo. With the average calf-roping horse, it typically takes a full two years to train them to do that. I can do it in three to six months because I can talk to them and tell them, “This is what I want you to do. This is your job. Do you understand?” If I can’t explain what I want verbally, I show them a picture. I show them an image of, for example, “I want you to do a sliding stop when the rope becomes tight on that calf, and you have to face up to that calf and be in control.” Then I’ll ask them, “What’s the best time for your rider to get off? When you’re squatted or just as you go to stop? That rider has to come off and you’ve got to help send him off. Do you like the rope where we have it positioned on your face? ‘No, I don’t like it there, I want it lower.’” Then it hooks underneath instead of coming by his eye. Different things like that. We can really tell him, “When the gate cracks, you’ve got to follow that calf out.” Other people have to keep drilling it and drilling it, whereas I can talk to him and tell him what we need him to do, “Now what do you need us to do to make it better for you?” It makes for a better relationship and a faster training process. It makes everyone happier. Not all horses want to do that type of job. You could spend a full two years on a horse and it’d never be able to step up to the plate to be that champion horse or do the job to the best of its ability because it doesn’t want to do that. We’ve had some like that. That’s fine. We change their career or we sell them to somebody who’s going to be compatible with that animal. All our stock has to be trained prior to going to the rodeo. You can’t just pull a cow out of the field and say, you’re going to go and do this, so they’re trained so their muscles are stretched equally as well to ensure they don’t get hurt. It’s inevitable that at some point, some of them may get hurt, but we’ve had a really good record of not many getting hurt. You lose more from a sickness in a barn; we look after our rodeo stock very well. It’s our livelihood. It’s mandatory that they are looked after; it’s no different than our horses. They are athletes, so they need the best care and upkeep because we’re traveling. It’s nothing for us to travel 2100 km in a weekend. We leave on a Thursday, go to Quebec for an 18 hour drive, show there, travel all night another 12 hours to another rodeo, and from there another 10 hours home. I get lots of emails saying, “If you’re an animal communicator, how come you’re promoting the sport of rodeo? That’s cruelty to animals.” It’s not. It gives them a career. It’s no different than us having a career or the horses having a career. If those cattle are not used for rodeo, their only other option in life is to be in our freezer. These animals have a career for two or three – and some even four or five – years depending on what they’re doing. They follow the ranks up, starting with calf tie-down, then breakaway, then steer wrestling and team roping, and then to junior steer riding. If they’re good and like what they’re doing, they keep on going. Otherwise, most of them are butchered before they’re two years of age. Now they have a career. Being longhorns, they’re extremely smart animals.

We can learn so much I don’t believe there’s any such thing as a stupid animal. Animals are the same as people. You can be an old soul or a young soul. If you get a dog that doesn’t listen, it’s because their either don’t associate with their name, or because they’re a very young soul and it’s your job to teach them the ways of the world. You get some, that old soul that picks up things so quickly and is so intelligent and that’s because they’ve been here many times. An animal’s purpose in life is to be taught and to teach. To help us along the way. There’s so much that animals have to offer. Beavers build a dam that we have to blow up with dynamite. Why couldn’t we learn how to build something that strong? Birds build nests that can withstand tornadoes. Spiders’ webs are the strongest substance in the world. Ants build colonies that don’t destroy our land. People are destroying our natural resources and destroying different animal species for our own selfish, ignorant purposes. People are using monkeys for their gall bladders and eating their brains for a delicacy. They show us so much, like unconditional love, responsibility, not to be so endeavoured into ourselves and to think of others. Animals are a huge part of our lives. Our kids can grow up and move out, but our animals are still here. I’ve always been the type of person who gets along better with animals than I do with people. I always believe that animals have so much more to share with us than the average person does with each other. They’ve proven that a lot of animals – for example, gorillas – can speak by hand language. Animals whose owners are hearing or speech impaired learn those hand signals and know what they mean. Most people only use eight to 10 per cent of our brains. A lot of people are so caught up in our social and cultural structures that we’re not open enough to accept other forms of communication. Telepathy can be done through audio, pictures, feelings, or colours. When I first started, there were a lot of skeptics. People would say, ‘I’m going to let you talk to my horse just to prove that you’re wrong.’ And I did that in the beginning to prove that I was talking to their animal. I did that for the first two years, but now I don’t have to prove myself to anybody. If you want my services, you’ll ask for it. These days, there are a lot of people who do believe in it, and are looking for methods to help their animals other than pharmaceuticals.

Lessons from furry friends It’s just kept me very humble and not judgmental. Through the eyes of the beholder, it has made me realize that I’m equal with everybody. I don’t ever think I’m better than any one else. We’re all equal, and we have to be equal to coincide with everybody. I am not my dogs’ master. I may be their guardian and I am looking after them, but we are all equal. We have to learn from each other and teach each other. Every conversation with an animal is new and fresh. It never gets old. I love my life and I love what I’m doing.

Julie Forrest offers animal communication sessions for $75 for small animals (cats/dogs, etc.) and $125 for large animals (horses/cows, etc.). To learn more, visit http://www.julieforrest.com or call 519-234-6130.

Grand Bend's School of Rock

The Band In You is building a following for bands that might hit their peak 10 or 20 years from now Photos and story by Casey Lessard

Sitting outside a basement studio in the Dalton Subdivision south of Grand Bend, four teenagers wait their turn in Ken Dinel’s domain: his professional music recording studio. Surprised by the success of his project, The Band In You music school, Dinel has had to abandon basement space to expand the studio and the lounge, which is still in the renovation stage. “I thought I might get five students and teach a little music,” Dinel says. “I didn’t expect a big turnout, but it just took off. And it took off fast. I didn’t do any advertising other than in the Strip, and the word of mouth spread. Kids started telling their friends they were in a band. My five-year-old group members are six now, and they went to Florida for a month; they drove their mom nuts telling everyone they’re in a band.” Their passion for being part of something bigger than themselves has led to performances by The Band In You students at various community events this summer, including at the Canada Day celebrations and the Relay for Life. “It’s different from what I’m used to, but a good different,” says 14-year-old Blake Percy of Grand Bend, a guitarist in the band Sweet ‘N’ Toxik. He joined the school after his mom saw the ad in this paper. “I’m learning a lot of new things. Before I would learn how to play the guitar and go home and practice for hours and hours. Here, you’re learning how to play with other people in a band. The timing is a whole different thing. It’s like comparing an individual sport like tennis to a team sport like soccer.” The band members range in age from three to 18, and there are seven bands in total. Band members come up with the names, such as Famous, Victim, and Rocket Stars. Everyone is involved in songwriting, which is the main thrust of the school. “They come in and sit down, and we start writing,” Dinel says. “We’ll rewrite together until the song’s somewhat complete, and then it’s introduced to the band. If the bands are less capable of writing, we each take a turn writing a line and then it’s edited that way. The Rocking Kids are five years old, and they all wrote me a bunch of lyrics about being rock stars and I put it together for them. With Sweet ‘N’ Toxik, Kyla came in with a semi-finished song (“Building My Time Machine”), and we tore it down and rewrote it with new elements. Then we sat down and worked on the music for it. It all came together very quickly. “From there, we go into the studio and lay down a bed track where the band performs the song together to a click track. Then we just start replacing parts one at a time. We redo it until it’s radio-worthy.” That level of professionalism and solidarity is what attracts Dinel’s students. “I thought I was the next Taylor Swift,” says Sweet ‘N’ Toxik singer Megan O’Brien, 15 of Zurich. “But then I got into the band and this is so much cooler because you get to share the hard work and pride with other people. I really want to hit it big with the band. I love sharing our music with people. When I’m listening to the radio, I’ll hear a song that makes me say, ‘I’m so glad they wrote that.’ I want to share that with people.” Sharing the music is part of the appeal for Kyla Hunt-Beach of Grand Bend, also a singer with the band. “I like being able to perform and entertain,” says the 17-year-old. “I like being able to work in a team as a band. It’s been really amazing. “The highlight is playing at concerts,” Kyla says. “The first one at the Grand Bend Public School Family Fun Day was amazing. I loved how there was a big crowd and how enthusiastic they were. I loved how they came up afterward and complimented us.” Blake Percy agrees. “It’s great seeing people come out to watch you play because I’m not used to that. Our band is good, so we get good applause and that’s a rush.” Dinel estimates the school’s show has about 200 loyal fans, so he’s looking forward to taking the bands on tour locally. Coming off well-received shows this summer, Dinel has started picking up paying gigs for his students. “The original goal of the school was to teach them how to write songs and record them,” he says. “Now that the school’s full, we’re going to develop a show. They’ll write and perform originals and covers, and each band will have its own set. “We’ve been promised radio. Next year, I want to take these kids on tour locally. Then it’s TV. They’re very young, but there’s an It factor. We’ve performed with some bigger bands, and the bigger audience seems to be when the kids are on. We don’t see kids play, so it’s a rarity. And it’s coming out of Grand Bend.” That said, the performers are still kids, so they’re not polished professionals, although there are a few prodigies. For Dinel, career longevity is the key, and that comes from accountability and desire, even if their age sometimes shows in the lyrics and sound. “There’s a lot of editing at this stage,” Dinel admits. “But they get better each time they do the process. They’ve been here six months, so imagine them in two years. Grand Bend’s going to have some serious music out of this. Victim is a very committed band; my daughter’s in that one. They’re the real deal, and in two years they’ll only be 10! “Most garage bands typically envision these ideas (touring, recording, etc.), but don’t go any further because they don’t have anyone to help them get there. I always push them to look forward. It’s more of a preparation mentality than a practice mentality.” “I had lessons before,” adds Megan O’Brien, “and you go home and play, but it’s not fun. With a band, people are depending on you. We’re looking at the bigger picture.” Mom Yvonne O’Brien is impressed. “On several occasions, our daughters have been jamming and performing with other friends who have a lot more formal or traditional training. Their experience with The Band In You’s format was very apparent, and helped produce a more confident performance.” Shannon O’Brien, 13, plays drums and is learning the bass. She agrees that the experience has helped boost her confidence in performance. “Before, friends would come over and I’d be totally lost,” she says. “Now I can play with bands and it’s a lot better.” “Ken is phenomenal,” Kyla Hunt-Beach says. “He’s really good to work with and easy to get along with. He gets you on track when you need to. It’s really fun and you don’t even realize when you’re practicing because you’re having so much fun. You get lost in the music because it’s so much fun.” Dinel believes his process helps students relax, creating a desire to come back for more. “When Kyla came in, she was conservative, safe and tense. Now, you see her in there and she’s a whole different person. “I’m trying to put together bands that really get along well. There’s no inner dating. They’re respectful to each other. For the sake of longevity, they have to share the limelight, be respectful and encouraging to each other.” That was a challenge at first for Kyla and Megan, who share the stage as singers in Sweet ‘N’ Toxik. “At first, when we didn’t know each other, we kind of competed,” Megan says. “Not too bad, but we’d almost scream trying to get over each other. Finally we said, we want to sound good, and we sound good together. We’re both equally in this, so let’s just do it. Now we hang out all the time. We’re good friends. It wasn’t like that before, but now it is.” Together they are stronger, they say, and they’re in it for the long haul. “I want our band to get big and become well known, ” Kyla says. “ To be able to travel and tour. I just hope it grows. It’s going to be hard, but that’s how you get big.” Thirteen-year-old Shannon’s prepared for the ride. “I’d like to see people know our band. That would be the coolest thing.” For Dinel, the end result is up to his students. “It’s a self-defined experience,” he says. “We have a great time, but I do have expectations. If they don’t come in prepared, it’s not cool. As a band, they all feel part of something greater than their everyday life.”

The school’s roster is full, but has a waiting list that could be drawn upon in the fall. To join the waiting list and be part of the process, contact Ken Dinel at thebandinyou (at) hay.net

Inside the House of (Tom) Love

Hard worker makes cozy nest for himself and cat by restoring century home across the street from his parents Now 23 years old, Tom Love got the idea three years ago to buy the home and acreage across from his parents after it came up for sale. After a year of hard work, with help from his parents and grandparents, he’s living a comfortable life with his cat Tye in the century home at the intersection of Highway 81 and Crediton Line. “There’s no house around here like this one,” says Tom’s dad John Love. “We knew Ila, who lived here before, and she had Alzheimer’s, so her son was taking care of the place,” Tom’s dad John Love says. “We said to him that if he ever wanted to sell it, we’d be interested. In 2006, he came along and said he was ready to sell. “It was a lot of work,” John adds. “We pretty much ripped it down to the 2x4 studs and started over. We put spray-foam insulation in the outside walls and went from there.” The restoration took a year and a lot of savings. “I’ve been pretty good with my money,” notes Tom, who has been working since he was six. “I was nine years old when I bought my first lawnmower. I sold pumpkins, cut grass, washed windows at the drive-in, worked at POG, Sobey’s and Best’s. Now, my dad and I do grass-cutting, leaf cleanup, painting. If I saved up enough, I could buy good things to make more money.” With a little bit of help from mom and dad, and a mortgage, the result is a spectacularly restored turn-of-the-century beauty.

As told to Casey Lessard Photos by Casey Lessard

This was once a village named Harpley. There used to be a post office on the northeast corner that was owned by my great-great-grandpa. There was a hotel across from the post office, and a shingle mill on this farm originally. David Hollenback started building the house in 1877, and when the supply of cedar shakes ran out, that’s when he decided to move. James B. Hodgins bought it in 1877, and it was in his family (Hodgins had three granddaughters, Nola, Beulah and the youngest Ila, who last owned the house) until I bought it. The house came up for sale in April 2006. It was a pretty good deal because we didn’t have to go through the real estate broker. It’s a good place to live and it’s right across from my parents’. I wanted it to be a nice place, a place that was good to live in. The house needed a lot of work. It needed all new electrical and insulation, and we had to put a new furnace in. The whole house had electric baseboard heating, so we tore that all out and have a gas furnace outside that also has air conditioning in it. We finished the floors and put new drywall in and painted it. We tore out the laundry room beside the kitchen. It was rough; the floor had tile on it and we needed an electric cleaner to get the glue off. We had to refinish the staircase spindles in place because if we took them apart, we figured we might not be able to get them back together again. My mom did it. There was a lot of wax on them and it was difficult for her to get it off. They are a mix of walnut and pine. I think the pine spindles were put in because the people who lived here wanted to stop the kids from getting stuck between them.

I figured since it was an old house, we should go with the antique theme. The trim we got made in Exeter to make it look like antique trim. We got an antique stained-glass window from an old hotel in St. Joseph, and made a matching one at Sunrise Windows in London. I have one grandfather clock in the living room that my grandpa made when I first moved in, and I have a wall clock for my bedroom that he made 10 years ago. The Hodgins family came to my open house last year, and they were very interested to see the place. We planted three trees to remember the girls who lived here: Ila, Nola, and Beulah.

It’s nice, and it’s convenient because my mother can do my laundry. John: Notice he doesn’t have a laundry room? It’s nice and relaxing. No one bugs me when I’m trying to watch TV. Eventually I hope to get a plasma TV to put on the wall, and I hope to build a new deck. The current one’s in rough shape. In my spare time, I enjoy cutting the grass, and going outside at night in the summer time. But I don’t have a lot of spare time. Nobody else has anything like it. Everything’s new these days. Figured I’d have something different.

Jennie’s day in the sun

South Huron DHS’ cafeteria operator reflects on turning 80 and the funeral celebration she wanted to be alive to see Jennie Rowe has run the South Huron District High School cafeteria for more than 40 years, along with other food enterprises including the cafeteria at the Exeter canning plant, the booth at the arena and the pool, and catering local events. Rowe turned 80 May 22nd, and the school has named the cafeteria in her honour. Then her “fabulous” kids (Kathy, Bob, Jim, Lori, and Jeff, and an “add-on”, Dale) threw her a three-day party to celebrate the milestone.

As told to Casey Lessard

I have always worked where there has been food. Beaver Foods had the service here (at South Huron) and when I went to apply for the job, someone called me and told me that they thought this would be the job for me. I went to see this guy, and he was a tyrant. I thought, I can’t work for this guy. But by the end of that school term, the board came to me and asked me if I would take it on and I said yes. At that time, I did work for the board, but after about a year, the board wanted to walk away from it, and they said it was mine. It became my own enterprise. We didn’t even have a contract; it was just by word of mouth back then. Ten years ago, the board came and said that all of the contractors had to buy what was in the kitchen, and I said I wasn’t afraid to buy. Everything in the kitchen belongs to me, and it’s my little corner in the school. I’ve only had a contract with the board for the last ten years, and it’s renewed every five years. It runs out this August. I talked to one of the other contractors and we haven’t heard what’s going to happen. But I’m not going to let them take it away from me. If they have to buy everything in the kitchen, I’m going to price it so high that nobody will want to buy it. I don’t do it for fame or glory. This is my life. One time I realized that I could cook anywhere. I can’t meet these kids otherwise. So it’s basically all about the kids. And I have had the most amazing employees. Whether they were students or grown women, they have made me what I am today.

I used to feed the multitudes for the Sportsman’s Dinner, and Lincoln Alexander was one of the invited guests. They had just built the arena, and they said, “Jennie, we will be touring the arena, and we would like to show him the kitchen facilities.” I said, well, I run a pretty ship most of the time, but give us a little warning before you come. They said they’d be bringing him in around 5 p.m.. Well, at 3:40, the kitchen door opens and who walks in but Bruce Shaw and Lincoln Alexander. I had buckets on the counter and Jennie has her arms elbow deep in coleslaw. I said, Excuse me, sir. I washed my hands and shook his hand, and said, You caught me at a very inopportune time. He looked at the bucket and said, “Not being a cook, I can’t imagine mixing coleslaw in that amount any other way.” Now I had battled with the Lions because dinner we always served it country style so people could take what they wanted. They said, We want the head table served on a plate. I said no. I said, He’s human like us, and I’m going to give this man an opportunity to put on his plate what he wants. They didn’t think that was the right idea, but they went along with it. He came back in and commented and said, “It was kind of nice to be able to put what I wanted on my dinner plate.” I didn’t ask him if he had any coleslaw.

Despite the fact that I’m 80 and people ask me when I’m going to retire, well, I’m widowed now and what do you do? What would I do if I retired? I think I’d be totally lost without it. Anyone that can work should, if your health is good and you’re in a position that you can. I feel too vibrant yet to want to go home and sit on the back deck. Because I live such a busy life, I don’t bowl, I don’t golf, I don’t curl. What do I have left? When you look at the people in the Villa or the hospital, they get stuck there. It’s not that family doesn’t love you, but they’re busy with their lives. Kids move on. I don’t think people realize the lonely hours. That’s why I said I would go to the hospital, if only to wash their hair, massage a little oil on their arms, read their cards, or whatever. Watching my mother go downhill, I said, Mom, what do you want? Do you want me to read to you? She said, “No.” Do you want me to rub your back? “No.” She closed her eyes, and I know the first two lines to most songs, so I just sang some songs to my mom. The next time I came back, she said, “Thank you for singing all those songs to me. I heard you.” This is what people need. When the day comes that I have to move out of here, I hope that I’m healthy enough and still able to go and do that for someone else. Every day is a day in the sun for me. Be it a phone call from someone just to talk, or someone popping in the back door with a coffee in their hands from Timmy’s or whatever. The kids at the school and how they respond in conversation with me; the things they ask of me, they think it’s me that’s giving, but it’s them that’s giving because they’re doing me a favour that they care enough about me that they want me in their lives.

My husband Elmer died four years ago of a heart attack. He was 76. He always said, “Jennie, when I die, don’t have a flowery splash. Tell people to come in their work clothes and just have a good time.” Elmer liked his Scotch, so he said to line up a bar full of Scotch and everybody had to have one drink of Scotch on Elmer. We had it at our farm and people were told to dress casual. Some came dressed up. My kids came in shorts and sandals because it was the 15th of June. Our son Jeff got up and spoke, and people said the comments he made about his dad sounded more like he was roasting him. I said, Then you didn’t know Elmer, because that’s exactly what he would have expected. But he wasn’t there to celebrate. When you die, they always say they’re going to celebrate your life, but you’re not there anymore. You’re gone. I decided that after making all the arrangements for my funeral and for celebrating Jennie’s life, I decided I wanted to be part of it. I wanted a great big tent open to whoever wants to come, there would be loud music playing (ABBA), there would be an abundance of good food to snack on, and just lots of love and friendship. I wanted to be part of that. Not a dead body. A one day deal turned into three days. It was lucky that my birthday was on a Friday. If they had done this when I died, I wouldn’t have gotten to enjoy it. I highly recommend this. Think about it. I said to my kids, when I die, bury me. That’s all. This is my day in the sun.

Chicago!

South Huron District High School’s music department spent four days from May 13-16 in Chicago as part of an experimental type of band trip. The Strip’s Casey Lessard tagged along. Story and photos by Casey Lessard

“Two years ago in Cleveland, I met Benjamin Washington by happenstance,” says South Huron music teacher and band director Isaac Moore, speaking of Chicago King College Prep High School’s band director. “He needed a bass amp and I needed a trumpet, so we ended up talking and exchanging instruments for an hour or so. Because of that, we ended up talking about where each of us was from and how neat it would be if we tried to do something together. ” Each year, South Huron’s music department takes a trip, but most of the recent trips have been for competitions. “We could have done that again this year. But I wanted to give the kids a varied experience; we had never gone to Chicago, and a lot of kids were interested in going there.” Sixty-six members of the band joined the trip, along with eight chaperones. The visit to America’s third largest city included sightseeing, a trip to the famed Chicago Symphony Orchestra and the Sears Tower, and lots of music. The band performed all day its second day, starting with a master class at a college for music teachers, followed by a jazz combo performance at Buddy Guy’s Legends bar. Then it was off to King College Prep for an afternoon and evening collaboration, which started with watching the one of the city’s best marching bands practise. “Our marching band is everywhere, winning competitions,” says Benjamin Washington. “We’re like the Soul Train of Chicago. Just last year, we opened for the Stone Temple Pilots concert, Wynton Marsalis dropped by and played with us here. [U.S. President Obama’s house] is about three or four blocks from here. Marching around in the summer time, we would pass by it. I didn’t even know he lived there until the presidential election.” Whether Obama ever noticed King’s marching band or not, percussionist Joe Pavkeje of Exeter found it valuable to see how King’s musicians perform, bobbing their heads while playing. “It showed we could be doing a lot of things we’re not doing. Not that we’re not doing enough, but they have a different style that I thought was interesting. They really got into their music, which helps them with their stage presence. It makes them sound better. If they’re more into it, it makes it more enjoyable for everybody.” While Pavkeje noticed the contrasts, Moore hopes he also noticed the similarities. “We often think these major cities are better than what we’re doing here. Rural schools are have not and city schools are have. It shows the kids how special this school is and gives them perspective on how great they’re doing and how wonderful the music they’re doing is.” Kristy Pavkeje is thankful for the experience, and knows who should get the credit. “It’s a really high quality program. If you look around (elsewhere in our region), we seem to be more dedicated or something. A lot of that is due to Mr. Moore. He knows how to get the most out of this program for us. With the SHSM (Specialist High Skills Major) program (in Arts & Culture), it looks good when you go to university or college, and he worked hard to get it at the school.” For Moore’s part, he notes he couldn’t pull it off without the overwhelming support of the community. “The community is so, so important to what we’re doing here. They support our concerts to show our kids that what they’re doing is important. The fact that we have this extremely supportive community and excellent tradition of music at this school, it’s a machine that doesn’t seem to stop. Every day I come here, I don’t know who I’m thanking, but I’m thanking someone.” Moore is eager to show the music program’s supporters what King College Prep is doing, and hopes Washington is able to bring his students to Exeter next year. “Having the opportunity to see their marching band and the enthusiasm they have for music, it was infectious. Our kids loved watching their band perform, and this community would love seeing it, too. It’s really fun to watch.” Washington is on board, too, and hopes it can happen. “It gives the kids the opportunity to see children from other areas and see we’re doing the same thing,” he says. “I’m sure Mr. Moore is saying the same things: you’ve got to practise, you’ve got to listen, you’ve got to watch the rhythms. It gives the children a chance to see that what I’m trying to provide for them is what others are trying to do as well.” Looking back on the trip, Moore hopes his students got enough time to interact with their Chicago counterparts. “The students said the best part of the trip was socializing with students from the other school, and you can’t plan that. It would have been nice to have more time for that. It’s through that social bond that they see that we’re doing the same things here.”

From field to famous fries

Cooks working for one of Canada’s top chefs are peeling potatoes grown in Corbett Marcus Koenig moved his family to Canada from Switzerland to start Klondyke Farms, just north of Corbett, in spring 1997. Today, the farm is an organic operation that supplies a farmers’ market in Toronto and several restaurants, including renowned chef Jamie Kennedy’s chain. Klondyke potatoes can be found in all of their potato dishes, including potato gratin, organic fries, and their famous poutine. “With our catering business, there are many dishes that go out with his potatoes on a daily basis,” says Michael LeClair, assistant manager of the chain’s Gilead Café. “One of JK’s philosophy’s is everything local and organic. Local definitely comes first for us.” It’s a philosophy that fits in well with Koenig’s personal story.

As told to Casey Lessard Photos by Casey Lessard

We had a mixed vegetable, dairy and cash crop farm in Switzerland, very small and very intensive. When we came here, we took over a potato operation that grew roughly 800 acres of potatoes conventionally. I had more and more trouble with chemicals, health-wise. In 2001, it was very bad and I could hardly work. Just by accident, I got a book about a different way to look at the soil from an organic, natural standpoint. That got me started on the organic thing. I needed an eye-opener to see there was another potential way to do it. I couldn’t keep spraying. For us, it was either sell the farm or go organic. The University of Toronto needed a local (meaning Southwestern Ontario) supplier of potatoes. We are not a large acreage grower, but for an organic grower with 30 to 50 acres of potatoes, we are one of the larger ones. They needed someone who could give them a continuous supply of potatoes. They called me up, and I said they should go to Pfennings, and because they sell my potatoes. They said, “No, we’re not going to do that. When we pay a premium, we want that premium to end up in the producer’s hands. Otherwise, we’re not going to do it.” I think that’s a very healthy way of thinking, and I was impressed, so we thought maybe we should supply them. They liked our products because we supply them with the varieties they need and we know how each variety behaves in the kitchen. We give them new stuff to try, and if they don’t like it, we don’t supply it. They get what they need and for us, it’s more work because we have to go to Toronto, but we are able to capture the wholesale premium, the delivery premium, and keep it for ourselves. On a long-term basis, we can justify it. A Toronto farmers’ market focused on bigger volume producers approached us. Most farmers’ markets want people who will supply quarts of apples or quarts of potatoes, but they wanted people who could supply bushels and bigger volumes. I wasn’t really interested in doing it, but they kept asking us if we could come. At exactly the same time, a friend said he would have time to help us part-time on the farm, so we could justify trying it out. We started at the end of September, and we immediately got positive results from it. The first day, chef Alex Johnston from Jamie Kennedy’s restaurants came and asked what we had. We told him we had potatoes, and he asked how we grow them. We told him we grow organically and use some biodynamic processes. So he took a 50lb. bag home. The following week he came back to our truck. He’s a very quiet guy and doesn’t talk much. But he was very excited and said, “Hey, we had these potatoes, and these potatoes are awesome. We’re going to buy your potatoes.” We didn’t discuss price. He just said these were the potatoes they were going to buy. That’s it. No discussion. They take quite a volume, so we gave them our volume discount and that was it. We have done business with them now since last September. I go to his restaurant every week for breakfast and coffee. We now supply four restaurants in Toronto, including Jamie Kennedy’s chain; we supply all his potatoes. We supply Crush, Cava, and a new restaurant. They’re not all top-end restaurants, but good ones that want to use the potatoes mostly for fries. We have enough sales to justify driving to Toronto on a weekly basis.

A better way of life I enjoy farming this way better. It’s more independent. In conventional farming, you rely so much on external input. You buy the fertilizer, you buy the chemicals, and the only thing you do is apply the stuff. You supply the land and they take your crop. I never really liked that system because it’s not truly independent. The farmer is the supplier of the soil, but someone else does the managing. It’s going more and more towards that. Don’t misunderstand me: there are good conventional farmers. This way is more independent because you rely on your own knowledge and your own labour, and you produce your own inputs by composting and animal production. That’s what I enjoy about organic farming. Also, you have a product that the market wants. I don’t have to go to market and ask, “What will you give me for that?” We are in a strong position: we produce for a market that appreciates our product, and we deal with customers that say, Thank you. In conventional farming, your customer doesn’t really need you. For them, they are so big worldwide, that one farmer doesn’t make any difference. With organic, you deal with smaller companies that need you, but you also need them. It’s a much healthier relationship between the customer and the producer. Local food will be way bigger than organic in the future. This is the real way to go. This is going to be the big thing and that will give anybody who produces good stuff on a local level a chance. Energy has to go that way, too. We should be putting a wind turbine up and one guy can supply our neighbourhood with power from it. The guy who has 1000 pigs should put a manure digester up and produce electricity or natural gas for his neighbourhood. The economic situation now will drive more people to that. Our so-called leaders talk about how important it is to keep up free trade, but that’s because they’re afraid free trade will collapse. That’s exactly what’s going to happen because it has no future. It gave us all these problems. Worldwide trade and all these products from China gave us the problems we have now. So the solution is to keep going the same way and expect different results? It doesn’t make sense.

Looking for a better future We as suppliers are not taken very seriously by our suppliers and customers anymore. As a farmer, it is very nice to work with people who appreciate what you are doing. We are not going to get rich quick, but we can survive and increase our wealth slowly. I’m pretty sure I can provide a future for someone down the road. Every person who lives on this Earth has a purpose, and some people are just born and naturally find their way to that purpose. Some people never find their purpose. I don’t know what my purpose is, but right now, what I could do to bring humanity forward is by supplying good quality food that makes you think straight. Good food, good thoughts; junk food, junk thoughts. It’s that simple.

Long live the king!

Grand Bend gambler Richard Webb will travel globe after winning the Canadian Poker Tour crown Richard Webb hit it big January 21 when he won the Canadian Poker Tour Invitational Finals at Ocean World Resort and Casino in the Dominican Republic. Webb was the best of Canada’s top 43 players, who were invited to the Caribbean resort to compete for the $60,000 title and a sponsorship contract worth $100,000. With the win, Webb will represent Canadian Poker Tour as the Canadian poker champion, and the company will pay his entry fee and all expenses when he competes in tournaments across Canada and around the world this year. He also gets to keep most of his winnings from any tournaments where he places “in the money”. It’s a high level of success for this 48-year old Dashwood native, who grew up playing cards and still plays poker weekly with his friends and family.

Photos and photo illustration by Casey Lessard As told to Casey Lessard

When did I start playing poker? Probably with my dad when I was a young child. He would deal hand after hand of seven-card stud, and practice and play. He was a card player, and I learned my card skills from him. As we were growing up, we played cards all the time: euchre, solo, hearts – all the card games you play as a family. Along came the charity casino days, and I played poker at those not knowing much of what I was doing. It was mainly limit poker, so there’s a fixed small blind and large blind, and there are only three or four raises. Each game would be $5 to $20 per game. We started playing out at a local establishment in Exeter on Monday and Tuesday nights, and we moved out here for a regular Tuesday night poker game (his basement has a poker room complete with a beautiful poker table, comfortable chairs, and a painting of dogs playing poker). We had been playing various types of games, but we could see that no-limit hold ‘em was where the future of poker was. In no-limit, you can raise any time. This was in the fall of 2004 after Chris Moneymaker won the World Series of Poker, which really was the start of the explosion of the poker trend. In February 2005, I entered my first tournament, the Bluewater Championships at Point Edward charity casino, which was their first. There were about 400 people putting up $500 each. Lo and behold, I finished second. That was a good start. I took a good portion of the winnings and took a month long motorhome trip across Canada with my family. I played the Bluewater Championships again in February 2006, and won it that time. They had another one in September, and I won that, too. I think first prize was something like $50,000 each, so that set me off. I made headlines in poker magazines, and the international poker rankings mentioned it because it’s unusual to win back-to-back. In 2007, I made the money again at Bluewater, finishing 12th. Then I went to Regina, where I won a tournament. It’s not the biggest tournament in Canada, but it’s one of the best. In 2008, I came back and won the Bluewater for the third time. That gave me entry into the Canadian championships, which were put on by the Canadian Poker Tour. They decided to have a tournament for the top point getters throughout the year. In any given year, I’ve never been the top points person, but I’ve always come close. Historically, since I started, I am number one overall.

Canadian championships It was a very good field of experienced players, all of who had won tournaments or come close, and we played in Puerto Plata. It was well put together with a big reception party. I went through day one, not as the top chip player but as one of the top 12 moving into day two. By the time we got to nine players, I started to take the lead. When we made the final table, I was the chip leader. Not by a lot, but I was chip leader. I played well. I made two bad calls throughout that time where I actually got in the hand when I was behind. In one case I lost the hand, and the other I drew out on a guy from Toronto. He had an ace/nine versus my king/jack. You get two cards and you’re trying to make a five-card hand. Three cards are flipped – the “flop”. The “turn” brings another card, and then there’s the “river”. I got a jack on the flop to make a pair and that eliminated him. That was good luck. You want to get in when you’re the favourite. His hand was 55 per cent favoured to my 45 per cent because he had the ace. He had one card that was over my two, but my two were over his bottom card. He had to hit an ace to win. It worked out for me. I proceeded to knock out the rest of the field. I got down to playing heads-up with a guy named Robert Beveridge, who won two Grey Cups as a CFL player and now coaches football at the University of British Columbia. I trapped him on a hand. I had pocket queens and he had ace/seven. I was 75-80 per cent favoured to win the hand and luckily he got an ace in the flop. The very next hand I picked up pocket sevens and moved all in against his ace/queen. A seven on the flop gave me three of a kind and I won the tournament. With the $60,000 prize, I get a $100,000 contract to go around the world and play poker. I give them 20 per cent of what I win and I give 10 per cent to charity in the city where I win. If it’s an international win, I’ll donate it in Grand Bend, Dashwood or Calgary, where the Canadian Poker Tour is based. I’ve worked my schedule so I can still run my business (Stewart Webb & Sons septic systems, which he runs with his brother), and have already started touring. I went to Los Angeles for the LA Poker Classic, which is one of the premier events. The winner takes $1.7 million, and I played well, but didn’t make it into the top 63 to get into the money. I jumped on a plane a couple days later to Calgary and finished 38th, which was in the money, and came home. I’m going to Regina this month; to Sanremo, Italy in April, to play in the European Poker Tour event there; Calgary for the Canadian Open; Las Vegas for the World Series; Barcelona, Spain; hopefully the North American championships in Niagara; and a whole bunch of tournaments across Canada to represent the tour coast-to-coast. For the World Series of Poker, there will be 7,000 players putting up $10,000 each, so first prize is about $9 million. Last year there were two Canadians at the final table.

Keeping everything in perspective Cards are a hobby for me. You see the glamour and glitz on TV, but there’s so much more that goes into it that it isn’t something I would want to have to depend on for rent payments at the end of the month. It would certainly subsidize my income if I decided to retire, but the pressure wouldn’t be there to perform. I’ve been fortunate. But if I never won another tournament again, I’d be quite satisfied with what I’ve achieved. That said, the Canadian Poker Tour wants me to win. Next year they’re planning to do the same thing but offer contracts to all of the players that make the final table. If I walk into a poker room anywhere in Canada, they know who I am because of the previous years. I play as hard as I can, but it’s always about the W for me. I don’t look at the money – I look for the win. That might help me be more relaxed at the end, and I think that’s one of my strengths. Plus I have a lot of final table experience. I wear sunglasses and a hat, and I’m listening to music a lot of the time. I try to establish how good someone’s hand is, and if I’m right 60 per cent of the time, I’m doing well. The more hands you see, the better. In no-limit poker, there’s raising (the stakes) and folding (your hand); no calling. Calling will just get you into trouble unless you’re trying to trap somebody. A good fold is as good as a good call. Maybe better. You’ve got to be able to fold when you’re beat. If you don’t, you’re going to be out of the tournament in a hurry. It doesn’t matter if it’s for $10 or $10,000; it’s still about winning. I still like to play. Cards are a social sport. At tournaments, you’re sitting at tables for 10-12 hours, so I want to be able to talk to the person next to me. If you’re likable, maybe people don’t try to knock you out as hard. I always shake hands and say goodbye to everyone. I’m definitely living the dream. It’s always nice to take Jackie and Sarah with me to places where it’s nice and warm, or places they want to see. Jackie will be going with me to Italy, and hopefully Jackie and Sarah will go with me to Barcelona. When I’m there playing, I don’t do anything other than play, but if I take an extra week, we can enjoy the places together. The money I’ve won has been used for things for my family and extended family, so it goes to good use and isn’t wasted. We still play every Tuesday night with the boys, and they beat me all the time. I play with my father every Tuesday and he beats me quite regularly. I like the ability to play with my dad. I’ve taken him to some tournaments; he sees the success I’ve had, and he’s proud of that. If I win $50,000 Sunday night, I still go to work Monday morning. If I were given a long-term contract to represent an organization, I probably would take it. I like the ability to get out there and meet people. If they want me to do charity events, I’m happy to do it. If I have interviews to do, I’m happy to do that. If I win one of the big tournaments this year, it’s not going to change the way I am and I’ll probably still come to work the next day. Well, maybe I’d take a couple days off before coming back.

To see Richard Webb win the Canadian Poker Tour Invitational Finals, you can watch The Score in April. Air dates and times are not yet set, but will be listed at thescore.com

Our boy almost played in the big league

The ultimate benchwarmer, Brett Leonhardt of Grand Bend lived a dream and almost became tallest NHL goalie The son of “Hardt of Huron” bed and breakfast owners Brian and Karen Leonhardt, Brett Leonhardt moved to the United States after receiving a hockey scholarship at NCAA Division III SUNY Oswego in upstate New York, where he majored in communications and media arts. His background made him the perfect candidate when the Washington Capitals made a push to improve their web presence last season. Now living in Washington, DC with his girlfriend Logan Kapinus, Brett Leonhardt made international headlines December 12 when his job put him in the right place at the right time.

As told to Casey Lessard

My parents got me into Learn to Skate when I was four years old, and I started playing tyke hockey when I was five. At six or seven I started liking goaltending. My older brother was a goaltender so it was natural for me to want to do it and I never looked back. I was invited to Kitchener Rangers camp, and I was there two or three weeks and it was down to three goalies. I played in an exhibition game, and that year they had two goalies that were drafted higher than me, so I just went down and played Junior ‘B’ in Cambridge and kept my college eligibility. Getting a scholarship was a goal of mine. I did well in high school and was definitely going to university afterward. I applied to Laurier, Waterloo, and U of T, but if I didn’t get a scholarship I was definitely going to go to university in Canada. I got a scholarship to SUNY Oswego, and after two years transferred to Neumann College near Philadelphia, about two hours from Washington. My girlfriend graduated the year before I did and took a job in D.C., so when I graduated, I looked for a job here in Washington. I called the Capitals, and from what I did in college and my résumé, the perfect job opened up. I went for two interviews and got the job.

Dream job There are two things I love doing. One is video and film, and the other is hockey. Not only at college, but after graduation, to be able to have the job I have is a dream come true. A lot of people forget that there a lot of people behind the scenes that keep everything going in the office other than what’s on the ice. You take away the fact that there is a pro hockey team playing, and it’s run just like any corporation. There are so many different departments: sales, marketing, and communications, which is on the rise right now. I do most of the video on the website and that’s something the NHL started last season. That was when my job opened up. Our owner was one of the founders of AOL (America Online), and everyone tells us that we have the best website in the league. We track our views and people are starting to rely on us for our video work. Whenever there’s an event, I cover it with video; our team writer is my boss and I try to include him as a personality in my videos so he is with us in this transition from the written word to video.

Special qualifications When I got the job, the sports information director at Oswego knew a guy named Nate, the director of media relations here. They went to school together and Nate told him that he had a guy from Oswego who had just gotten a job here. “What’s his name?” “Brett Leonhardt.” “Oh, he’s a good kid, a good goalie.” Nate was talking to our goalie coach and told him that a college goalie had just got a job if he ever needed anyone for practice, but he was just joking around. That’s when Olaf Kolzig, who was our goalie last year, started taking morning skates off; he was older and felt more energized when he didn’t skate the morning of a game. So last year, the goalie coach came up to me and asked if I wanted to go home and get my gear to practice with the team. I was floored. It happened once every few weeks and rolled into this season. It was crazy (facing NHL players). It was a huge jump. They shoot so hard and so accurate. The skating and shooting, everything is so fast. Everyone is so big and so good. You naturally just find a way to play better, so I started making saves and did what I knew what to do, and started to fit right in.

The fateful week Brent Johnson was a little sore after a game, and our coach was asked in a post-game press conference, “Johnson looked a little sore; what are you going to do?” He was like, “I’ll give him the day off. Our practice goalie is right beside you,” and they all looked at me and had a chuckle. That was Wednesday night. Friday morning, the goalie coach called me in my cubicle and said our other goalie, Jose Theodore had been nursing an injury, and that I should come down and take some shots. I knew something was up but they wouldn’t tell me. I ran down, and they still had my equipment from the day before, so I suited up two practices in a row. I showered and went back to work, editing the video of what the coach had to say at practice. The general manager, George McPhee, came up and put his arm around me and told me they were calling up a goalie, Simeon Varlamov. “Theodore cannot dress and cannot play, and the backup might not get here in time. Make sure your equipment’s ready because you might have to dress.” I had to sign a one-day emergency tryout contract and fax it to the league. At 3:30 they called to tell me that Varlamov couldn’t get here until just after 7:00 and I would have to be on the bench for warmup and for maybe the whole first period.

No. 80 When they have rookie camp every year, they make a jersey for everyone there. On the depth chart of the team, I guess I was the 80th guy, so they made me number 80. When I got there at 5 o’clock, I went back into the trainer’s room to get some socks because I only had dress socks on, and I there was the trainer sewing the letters into the back of my jersey. That was pretty cool. Warmup was the thing I was most nervous about. People are watching to see if you’ll make saves, and you’re skating around seeing Spezza and Alfredsson across the red line. I just did my thing from college, recreating my routine like where I stretch on the ice. I just tried to stop everything and look like I belonged. It was pretty cool. It’s so bright out there and to have an NHL jersey with your name on the back is pretty incredible. It was one of the greatest moments of my life.

Game time I had a pretty good warmup and coming back out to the bench, it was dark with no lights on. The fans were going nuts. Sitting there on the bench, it just felt like college again. You hear the guys talking, like “I need tape; my skates aren’t sharp.” The coaches saying, “Come on, let’s go.” I was on the bench when we scored a goal so the guys came down the bench giving high fives and they treated me like I was one of them. I later found out that Ottawa knew what was going on because we had three goalies on the lineup when you’re only allowed two. I wasn’t too sure how they were going to take it. Johnson would make a crazy save from outside, and Alfreddson would come in way after the whistle and bump into him. It started a couple of scrimmages and there were two goaltending interference calls. People were trying to say that it was something to do with me, but I just think there was some bad blood between the teams from previous games. During warmup, no one looked at me or stared at me; they just acted as if it was business as usual. People asked me if I was nervous when that was happening, and I can’t lie; I definitely was. I knew Johnson was sore earlier in the week, but he looked good in warmup. At around the 10:00 mark, Simeon Varlamov arrived; it was the first NHL game that he dressed for, too, and he was a first round draft pick. He walked down the tunnel and the trainer hit me and we just switched positions. I was a bit relieved because these guys are professional athletes and I’d been out of the game for more than a year. I’m not saying that I didn’t deserve to be there or belong there, but it was definitely right to see an NHL player replace me.

Post-game The local cable network always does one interview during the break, so when I came back into the room, they grabbed me and did an interview there. The VP of communications said to me, “You’re not going to believe this, but you’re the top story on ESPN, TSN, and SportsNet, so be ready when your equipment is off.” I got showered and put my suit on. Usually I do a lot of pre-game and post-game videos, but during the game I sit in the press box and watch so I know what to ask after the game. I went to the press box and our media relations officer said, “Everyone wants to talk to you. Let’s do one big scrum.” I did a quick interview with our radio guy and did the scrum. It was pretty crazy. Everyone had the story: our local NBC, Fox, and I even saw it on ESPN and CNN Headline News the next day. (Sports Illustrated later ran a brief on his appearance.) I never thought it would be this big.

Perfect storm We always joked that for this to ever happen, we’d have to have the perfect storm. A guy would have to get hurt the day of the game, and both of our farm teams, Hershey and South Carolina, would have to be in the middle of nowhere on the road in a small market. We always joked that someday it might happen. My parents are just floored. My dad was pretty happy when he found out that I got to practice with the team, so he couldn’t believe it. They were speechless. That’s the first time in my life I’ve seen them like that. I got all these emails and letters mailed into the office, like “You’re my hero,” and “You give regular guys a chance.” Around the rink I’ve seen three or four of my jerseys on people I don’t even know. I made sure my family all got one for Christmas for sure.

I love being around the sport every day. No one likes getting up Monday morning and going to work. It’s my dream job. I wouldn’t change it for anything. No matter how many days in a row you work or how many nights you’re out late after a game working, the next day it’s right back to hockey. I can look out of my office, and there’s Alex Ovechkin skating on the ice. I just love that I’m doing something that I’ve been passionate about since I’ve was so young.

Grand Bend holds a special place in Leonhardt’s heart. Growing up, the family spent summers here, and now that the Leonhardts are based in St. Joseph, Brett visits when he comes home. “I still have my membership at the Grand Bend Fitness Centre and I’d always work out there. Every time I come home, it’s Tim Horton’s, the gym and Sea Jewels. Our whole apartment in D.C. is decked out in Sea Jewels stuff.” He says he and Logan would like to move back to the area when they retire.

Hockey Night in Zurich

Draft makes beer league thrive “112 leagues below the NHL” Story and Photos by Casey Lessard

It doesn’t draw the crowds like Toronto or Detroit, but the Zurich Recreational Hockey League, or ZRHL, certainly draws the players. “We have a waiting list of sometimes 20 players waiting to get in,” says convener Jason Schilbe. “We have guys coming from London, Clinton, St. Marys, Exeter.” The league draws them in because they know they have a chance to win in any given year. Unique to beer leagues in the area, the ZRHL operates a draft every year where two captains from each of eight teams pick players from the pool. No two years are identical, and that keeps everyone on their toes. “The draft means you’re with different guys every year,” says Jamie Rader of Zurich. “Any team can win on a given night. Seems to work well.” The draft has helped Zurich’s league stay alive while others have faltered. “A couple leagues in Exeter tried it where you picked your own team,” Schilbe says. “The same team won every year so it faded out. This league has been around for 52 years, I think.” The league started after the junior team left town, leaving young men with nowhere to play. It started out with two teams and now has eight. “The idea is to pick a goalie first,” he says, explaining how to succeed as a captain. “If you have a good goalie, you’re all set, so usually the goalies go first.” One other twist was introduced a couple of years ago when the NHL did the same: shootouts to resolve ties. “You always have a winner,” Schilbe says. “When the NHL went to it, everyone saw it and liked the idea.” Varna’s Mark Buruma is impressed with his experience. This is his second year playing in ZRHL. “It’s probably the most organized rec league around,” he says. “It’s all about the beer. This is a beer league.” Brent Durand of Zurich concurs. “I’m a lifer. Love of the game and playing with friends. Plus the arena’s beside the beer store.” Then there’s the allure of winning it all in the league self-described as 112 leagues below the NHL. “I actually scored the overtime goal to clinch the championship one year,” says Bryan Denomme of Exeter. “We went undefeated that season.” Nevin Hodgins, a five-year veteran, hasn’t been so lucky. “I haven’t. This could be the year. It would be the dream of a lifetime.” Playoffs start this week with the Devils and Bruins leading their respective divisions. “Playoffs are best of five, so each team is guaranteed two rounds,” Schilbe says. “The season runs 17 regular season games, and up to 15 playoff games. It’s a long season.” Almost as long as the NHL’s.

For game times or more information, visit http://www.zrhl.com.

“It all happened so fast”

How a day at the beach changed Reagen Robinson’s life Exeter toddler Reagen Robinson’s life will never be the same after an outing to a private beach near Grand Bend in August. Soon after arriving at the beach with his parents Brad and Katrina and brother Jordon, Reagen ran toward an extinguished, but still hot, firepit and suffered third degree burns to his hands and second degree burns to parts of his legs.

As told to Casey Lessard

Katrina Robinson: We’re lake people. It’s nice to live next door to one of the most beautiful places in the world, and we take advantage of it. We have two small kids and two dogs who enjoy to swim. We’re beachgoers. It’s a fun, inexpensive day to have family time. It was a Friday afternoon, and after Brad finished work we decided to go to the beach. We were at a private beach. We had just sat down and I noticed he went toward the fire pit and I literally just about had him. I couldn’t catch him fast enough. He fell into a fire pit full of ashes that were still fairly warm. I picked him up and threw him in the water with me. I didn’t know what else to do. Brad came down and took one look at him and said we had to go to the hospital. It all happened so fast. It seemed like we got there one minute, and the next we were driving back down the road with a screaming baby. Shock took over. Usually I’m a very queasy person, but for some reason I was the pillar of strength. I carried him into Exeter hospital and they took him from me so I could give them information. I went back and all you could see was his skin was charred. It was all grey. I don’t know how else to describe it because I try not to think about it; it’s so horrific. I remember having to stand in the hospital room and hold cold cloths of saline solution over top of him. They explained what they were going to do and gave him a drug called ketamine to knock him out. Before I knew it, he was being taken to Victoria Hospital. We dropped Jordon off at Brad’s parents’ house in Ailsa Craig, and it felt like forever to get from Ailsa Craig to London. We got lost and finally found where we were supposed to be. I don’t think the severity of it sunk in until the next morning, Saturday. Having been brought up to speed by his team, the plastic surgeon came in and had a look and said flat out that Reagen had to have skin grafting. He said he would wait until his normal surgery days, which were Wednesday and Thursday, but then he came back and changed his mind. He said if it was okay with us, he would do it the next day, Sunday. On his first surgery, they skin-grafted up his forearms, the back of his hands and the fronts of his fingers. They placed pins in his fingers to keep them straight so he didn’t move any of the skin grafting. It takes between three and seven days for the skin grafts to be fully attached. Originally they thought they would have to skin graft his palms, a spot on his knees and a spot on his toe. But after two hours, the surgeon came to us and was excited, saying he didn’t think his knee or his palms needed the surgery. We were in the hospital for four weeks. They were shocked at how fast he healed, and Dr. Scilley was calling him his Superhealer. They were pleased enough to let us go home, but reminded us that we would have to have home care come in every day because he had sores that would need dressings. We went home with some dressing instructions and we were to wrap Cobans (a type of compression bandage) to add some tension into form before we got into gloves. We were home doing that for about a week before we had to go see Dr. Scilley. The Coban, because it wasn’t wrapped properly, started to cut into the bases of the fingers and added new wounds. Unfortunately, because of the way the health system works, no one from the hospital could come out and teach our home care workers how to use them properly, and you have to be a pro at it for it to work properly. The physical therapist, surgeon and a couple of nurses went to a conference in Montreal, and discovered gloves that had some tension in them with silver to help the healing. These were eventually replaced by the full pressure gloves he uses now. His left hand was burned worse than his right hand; he has about 95 per cent use of his right hand, and we’ve had issues with his left hand. His web spaces grew in a bit and the gloves are cutting into the web space. We’re trying to get it to heal, but you need pressure on it to keep it functional. It’s just getting better now. The body is still trying to repair its own skin because it doesn’t understand skin grafting. The blood vessels are still up at the surface, so if he were to pick his finger, it would bleed like crazy. The gloves help put pressure on his blood vessels and add form to his fingers. His fingers will never look like yours and mine, but he’ll be able to bend them. With the home care workers, I hold on to him and we go through six exercises to bend his joints and stretch the skin to its maximum potential. Even in a 24-hour period, you can have a lot of contraction, so you have to manipulate it while it’s still not completely healed.

Inflicting pain daily They’re hopeful that he will have full mobility. With his left hand, he doesn’t do a whole lot because it’s still sore. He favours his right hand, and we hope the mobility’s there in his left hand, but he can’t talk so we don’t know. It’s probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done. It’s not an easy thing to watch a child go through pain. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t have to assist in inflicting pain on him. I honestly thought when they first taught me how to do the exercises in the hospital that it would get easier. It doesn’t. In fact, it gets worse because it’s been four or five months continuous. When you have a burn, you have a burn for life. He will require surgeries until he is fully grown because his fingers and arms will grow but his skin won’t grow with them. It has its downfalls for being as young as he was, but it has its upside, too. He’ll never remember what happened, and he’ll never know any different. He’ll just have to adapt. It’s life. You can’t go back and it’s never going to get any worse than it was that day. We just have to teach him that everyone is different, and you can do anything you want as long as you set your mind to it.

A November fundraiser in Parkhill raised almost $20,000 to offset the medical costs. Reagen needs gloves, which are covered 75 per cent by OHIP every six months, but the family has to pay for any additional gloves in the interim. Medical supplies and other expenses, such as parking for regular visits to the hospital, also come out of their pocket. Donations are still being accepted. Cheques made out to the “Parkhill Lions Club in trust to Reagen Robinson” can be sent to the club at P.O. Box 207 Parkhill, ON N0M 2K0. Tax receipts will be issued.

GG-Whiz!

Grand Bend playwright Paul Ciufo nominated for Governor-General’s literary award for Reverend Jonah Born in Toronto, raised in Guelph and Mississauga, Paul Ciufo has called Grand Bend home for more than two decades. His first professional play, Reverend Jonah, was recently nominated for the Governor-General’s Literary Award for Drama. “It was probably the most pleasant surprise of my life,” says Blyth Festival artistic director Eric Coates of his response to Ciufo’s news. Blyth developed Ciufo’s and produced the play for the festival’s 2007 season. “It was one of the most gratifying moments in my career as someone who develops and produces new Canadian work.” Blyth scripts have been nominated for Governor-General’s awards twice over the years; both plays, The Drawer Boy and Quiet in the Land, won the award. “Competition is stiff,” Coates says. “Paul’s work stood out among the best new plays in the country. “This play really forced people to take a look at faith, tolerance and inclusion, and they responded very well to it.”

As told to Casey Lessard

Reverend Jonah is inspired by a couple of ministers, primarily a minister I know who got into conflict with the powerful families in the church where he was a minister, and there was a real clash, and it was quite devastating to him health-wise. It was quite poisonous for the church; quite a few members of the congregation stopped going over this because they disagreed with the antagonism toward the minister. I got incensed about that. This is a church, a place of love and support amongst its membership. I felt angry and sad that even that kind of human institution can be so flawed, that people can be seeking power there. I also had a relative who was a minister and it was quite taxing on him. He struggled with addiction issues and died at a young age. These are the starting points. I went to Blyth Festival and presented my idea for the play, and they said they liked it and would commission me. ‘We will work with you and we’ll get the first opportunity to produce the play when it’s done.’ That was a long process because it took me a long time to get this play right. When I started, what caused the conflict in the fictional church was much less controversial and smaller than what ultimately is the cause of the conflict in the church. The people at Blyth Festival were the ones who said, ‘Choose a bigger issue. It’s not realistic and it’s not incendiary enough.’ So I thought, why not choose the biggest issue facing churches right now, which is acceptance of gay and lesbian people. I’m really glad I did. This wasn’t the only thing I was working on for those years. I’d take a run at it and take it to Blyth, and they’d say, ‘It’s getting better, but it’s still not ready.’ We did readings of it with actors, and they did that several times. This process started in 1999, and it wasn’t until 2006 that Blyth said, ‘Yes, we’re going to go ahead with this.’ And in summer 2007, it finally made its way to the stage.

One thing I learned along the way was the process of a theatre company commissioning a writer. I always envisioned just sort of going off and doing your thing and then making the approach. I didn’t realize that you could go to a theatre company and say, ‘I’ve got an idea. Here’s an outline of the plot and the characters,’ and have them jump aboard with you in the process. I didn’t realize it would take so long. I almost totally lost faith in the project several times and gave up on it. The fact that it finally occurred was somewhat surprising. I got to a point where I thought, I just can’t get it to be good enough to be worthy of being on stage. But something about that story got me to give it another try. It finally paid off. The monetary payment is a very modest amount, and it’s in several installments. It’s not a lot of money (for seven years work). Do you want to do the hourly rate (laughs)? Knowing that someone is waiting to read your draft gives you extra motivation to get done, apart from your own satisfaction. Of course there’s always the chance that they might say, ‘It’s ready to be produced.’ That didn’t happen until the summer/fall of 2006.

My emotions would ebb and flow. I would be out for a run in the Pinery and suddenly think about the play and say, That’s how I solve that problem. I’d come home and spend all weekend working on that. I’d get excited and that process of working on problems, deleting some characters, adding some subplot would lead to a new draft. I’d take it to Blyth and wait expectantly. In the early days, the artistic director was Anne Chislett, and she has won a Governor-General’s award for her play Quiet in the Land. She would say, you’re on to something, but you just need to keep working on it. To show you how long it took, there’s a new artistic director there. Fortunately, Eric Coates, who took over, also saw the value and potential in the play and kept encouraging me. When they say there’s something here, but it’s still lacking, it’s like you’ve completed a marathon and there’s another one in front of you because you put your best into that draft and it wasn’t good enough. Sometimes that meant putting it away and working on something else. For example, I did a radio play for CBC in 2002. Or I got a new idea for a play and would work on that. But I always circled back to Reverend Jonah and tried to get it right. It was this flow of hope followed by despair, followed by hope, followed by despair. There was a further complicating factor, and I’ll never know how big of a factor it was. I believe Blyth Festival saw it as a risk to put the play on because they have a core audience that may be deeply offended by a play with sensitive religious issues. The play had to be bang on artistically, but there was always the question of what the impact would be. Would sponsors stop supporting the festival? Eric Coates had a public reading of the play in the summer of 2006, and that may have been as much to road test it from an artistic merit standpoint as from a community reaction standpoint. The feedback was incredibly positive. The ministers at that reading stood up and said, ‘Paul, you got that right. That’s what ministers go through.’ Or, ‘Thank you for tackling this issue.’ Or, ‘This isn’t a play about one issue; it’s about community and acceptance.’ A lot of people connected to it in all sorts of ways.

I’m also a rookie. I’ve only written one stage play before this called On Convoy. That got a tremendous non-professional production at the Livery Theatre in Goderich, and was produced as a radio play for CBC. But this was my first professionally produced stage play, so I had a lot to learn. I learned some things doing that CBC production working with very knowledgeable people there, such as executive producer James Roy and script editor Dave Carley. They really helped me understand parts of the craft, like how to structure a scene, how conflict works to drive a scene forward; basic things that are essential. I learned that writing is not just a talent. It’s a skill you have to hone and hone and hone. (When Blyth said it was ready,) first of all I felt joy. Yes! It’s going to see the light of day. It’s actually going to reach people and be seen. I was really excited and I essentially had the goal of having a play produced by Blyth for about a decade, so it was a realization of a long-term goal. I was very excited and very happy. Then there’s the buildup as the season was approaching. Then there was, surprisingly to me, a lot of work to be done on the script over the winter and spring. I was asked to be at the first week of rehearsals. I thought there would be some tweaking as the actors were rehearsing, but major rewriting happened that week. I’d wake up in the morning and email the new script to the actors and the process would start again. What you’ve written on the page, when it’s a play, doesn’t tell the whole story. Actors move around, insights emerge into what’s working and what’s not. The major realization was that with one of the characters, I hadn’t done a very good job with her. The actress bravely said, ‘I don’t know who this character is; she’s just angry all the time.’ I was taken aback, but then I realized it was true and I had known all along that was true. I tried in the course of a very short time to flesh out that character. That has impacts on everything else when you’re adding a character and scenes. She is the life partner of arguably the most important character in the play. Bottom line, I learned a lot that week about the process. It was very intense. They rehearse for several more weeks and opening night arrives. To my surprise, I wasn’t very nervous. I knew they were going to do a good job. I will never forget that night because I just sat and watched these incredible performers totally nail it. The audience was so receptive. They were laughing at the funny parts and very moved at the poignant parts. There was so much energy in that. I was sitting among my family and friends and I got to watch their reactions. It was odd because I knew where every line was coming from. Two of the characters are based on my in-laws, so when Fred sings in the shower, I’m laughing, and the character based on my mother-in-law says ‘I can’t get him to sing a note in church.’ And she actually said that. It was really neat to watch it and be there in the moment while thinking of the background leading up to it. Paula Citron, a reviewer from Toronto, wrote the review every playwright hopes for when she said, ‘The play was beautifully written.’ That’s a wonderful thing because so often theatre reviews focus on the performance.

I started sending the play out to other theatres, and nothing. I was told, ‘The cast is too big.’ A year goes by and there are no other productions. I had been hoping that since it was such a success that it would go on. I got contacted by Scirocco Drama publishing house that wanted to publish it. A play is in its most fully realized form on stage, so you don’t often think of plays in books except for Shakespeare. But plays are often published, and that’s how they are studied in classrooms and that’s how theatre people get access to them and get inspired to put them on stage. It was really exciting because since the age of seven, I dreamt of having a book published. My first book idea was a mystery novel in the Hardy Boys style called the Mystery of Shadow Ranch. I had never thought that it would be a play that would get published. I also thought it would be a real struggle to find a publisher. You hear all these stories of authors who get 49 rejections, but here was a publisher who sought me out, so that was great.

I knew theoretically (because only published plays may be nominated) that it could be nominated for the Governor-General’s award, but I had no expectations of that. The publication date was September 30, and I just got a phone call the other Tuesday (Oct. 21). The woman said, ‘I’m calling on behalf of the Canadian Arts Council,’ so my wheels started turning and I wondered why they would be calling, and ‘I’m calling to inform you that you have been nominated in the drama category…’ and I’m thinking, Oh my God, it’s the Governor-General’s awards, which it was. It was quite a moment. I was really moved. I was at a business conference in Toronto, so it was a voicemail message I was listening to, and I was immediately a mess. All my writing life flashed through my mind. I saw myself as a kid working on that novel, as a very nerdy high school guy working on a spy novel in high school, and studying literature in university. Whether you paint or write, artistically it’s completely subjective. It’s tough to know whether what you do is good. There are always varying opinions on it. I tend to suspect the negative opinions are right. When something like this happens, a national award, it’s tough to dismiss that. Perhaps now it will be considered for more productions, so that’s positive. For new work in the future, it will be easier to have people consider it. Blyth has commissioned me to write a play called The Five Day Whiteout. It’s a thriller/murder mystery. The plot is that four people traveling separately by car are blinded by a whiteout and stranded on the side of a country road. A retired schoolteacher brings these five people into his house, and there’s a killer in their midst.

My family is really excited for me. Julie is really happy for me and it’s her success, too, because she has to make sacrifices when I’m writing. I get the sense that she also thinks the sacrifices are worthwhile.

Paul Ciufo will find out November 18 whether he has won the Governor-General’s award. The winner will attend a December ceremony at Rideau Hall in Ottawa hosted by Governor-General Michaëlle Jean. The awards are Canada’s oldest and one of its most prestigious literature awards.

The secret of their success

Chamber’s top entrepreneur and business agree: it’s about customer service and quality 2008 Entrepreneur of the Year Shannon Ryan The Garden Gate Gifts & Florals 15 Ontario St. S., beside New Orleans Pizza Opened March 2007

“I think people wish Grand Bend were a more intimate town like Bayfield,” Ryan says. “I wish there were more stores like this that would draw a different age group than already comes here faithfully every summer.”

Challenges: “Renovating the store was a huge challenge. So was trying to source the products that I wanted and trying to figure out what customers wanted before I got here.

What does it take to be a successful entrepreneur? “We definitely strive for the best customer service possible, and the best quality product. Listen to your customers, and if they come in and say so-and-so has this product for this amount, try to source it for that price. It’s also important to be able to have an appreciation for your staff so they’ll give the same customer service when you’re not there.”

About winning the award: “After they called my name, I said to the president, Are you sure? I was so nervous I couldn’t say anything. I’ve been dreaming of what I would have said, and I would have thanked my staff because I couldn’t do it without them. “It’s just been such an exciting adventure, from finding the building and painting, to finding staff and learning how to use the till. “I’d like to say thank you to the people who nominated me, to my girls, and to my family and husband who gave me that little kick that I needed to finally get out and do it. “I wish I had done this earlier.”

2008 Business of the Year Grandpa Jimmy’s Scottish Bakery Bob & Ruth Hosford 36 Ontario St. N. since May 2008, previously at Dale’s Antique Market on Hwy. 21 S.

What does it take to succeed in Grand Bend? Bob: “Customer service and quality are both on the same level. Be nice to people and helpful, and get to know your customers.” Ruth: “Uniqueness. We have something no one else has. We appeal to the Scottish/Irish community, but we find a lot of Canadians trying our product and really liking it.”

About winning the award: Ruth: “We were told one day by Carol MacDougall that we had been nominated and that in itself was a huge surprise, and we were floored, really, because this is what we do. “This is our work, this is our business. We weren’t expecting any honours for it. We were totally overwhelmed. We didn’t realize we had so much support behind us.”

You've gotta have Faith

Story and Photos by Casey Lessard It was a leap of faith, but a former Hollywood actor, a New York musician and a London (Ontario) camerawoman converged on an Ipperwash trailer park this summer in hopes of creating a music video that will also showcase the park to the nation and the world. Stephen Shellenberger, whose art is regularly shown at group shows at Bliss Studio in Port Franks, left Hollywood several years ago and directs the video for “Faith” by Joseph Arthur, a folk-rock musician based in Brooklyn. They teamed up with a friend of Shellenberger who owns London’s video production studio CIVA Communications, and who provided the team with Sylvana Liebregts, who shot and edited the video. It should hit MuchMusic this month if accepted by the music network, and there’s word it will air in the United States and France. “I’ve done some music videos in the past,” Liebregts said, “so I was thrilled when I was asked to do it. I’m crazy about music, so to be able to do this and combine my passion for filmmaking with music is incredible. Joseph’s a really nice guy and talented so it was an easy job to take.” Arthur has enjoyed moderate success in the U.S., with one of his songs featured on an EP as a tribute to the victims of Hurricane Katrina. The song was recorded and remixed six times on the EP by such artists as Peter Gabriel (who signed Arthur to his Real World label), Chris Martin of Coldplay, Justin Timberlake, and by Arthur himself in a duet with Michael Stipe of REM. “I kept telling Stephen about Joseph,” said Arthur’s manager Peter Wark, whose office is down the street from Shellenberger’s Montreal home, “and he came out to see him play solo at the Montreal Jazz Festival. We gave him the record and Joseph said we should do a video. Stephen started calling me and he brought a lot of energy to the process. He had the idea from day one to do it at this trailer park.” “It’s amazing,” Arthur, born 36 years ago in Akron, Ohio, said of the area. “It’s a beautiful lake and I like this trailer park because I like the characters and the people here. It was Stephen’s idea to come here. It’s a song about faith, and I just trusted his instinct and I feel like it’s something interesting we’re making here.” Shellenberger lives part-time at the Huron Shores Trailer Park. He recruited some locals, including his neighbours and Miss Kettle Point, to perform in the video, which was filmed over several days at the park and at Ipperwash beach. “I’ve never shot a rock video before,” Shellenberger said, “and I love Joseph’s song and I though if we’re going to do it, let’s do it at my trailer park.” Shellenberger turned to art while acting in Hollywood, with roles in 30 films including A River Runs Through It with Brad Pitt, directed by Robert Redford. “I was always painting along the way,” he said, “and then I went through a rocky breakup and my kids were taken to France and I started painting more and more. If you’re an artist, you will do whatever is necessary to create. Arthur hyper-focuses and puts out three albums a year. It’s a compulsion to do it.” Arthur’s album Temporary People will be his first full-length album for 2008, following four EP-length albums released in March, April, June and July. “When you’re really productive, you flood the market with your psyche,” Arthur said. “The Internet is a digital manifestation of humanity’s subconscious and it’s limitless. You can do as much or as little as you want. You could put out a record every five years or blog like crazy every day.” Arthur is a busy man, not only touring and producing music, but also running a New York art gallery, which is shutting down this month because of problems with the landlord (according to stereogum.com). He sets off for a tour of France and North America October 6. “Joseph does well, but he’s still struggling to get to the next place. I think everyone is,” his manager Wark said. “Success for artists is getting to the point where you can do your art and you don’t have to work a day job. Then you aim for the sky and hope you play for thousands and thousands of fans every night.” Canadian fans should get at least one glimpse of Arthur when his video hits the air on MuchMusic; he recorded an interview that is expected to air when the video makes its Canadian debut. The album hits stores September 30. “Our aim is to do something more with this and see if we can expand on the idea of what a music video can be and is,” Arthur said. “Through all these avenues of distribution, we’re no longer limited as artists to formulate our products into a fixed idea of what is commercially viable.” “Having the video air on national television is probably the coolest thing to happen in my career to date,” camerawoman and editor Sylvana Liebregts said, “and it motivates me to make it really cool and really good. “The theme of the video is faith, and it’s a spiritual, personal song to him. I like a handheld feel; it’s more intimate and you can get into the action. A steady, tripod look is nice, but it’s sort of dry and more standard; there’s not much too it. In post-production we’re going to give it quite a distinct look. I want to make it look really cool, so I’ll spend a lot of time on it.” For first-time music video director Shellenberger, who has directed some shorts, it’s a brand new experience. “I’m flying by the seat of my pants,” he said. “I don’t watch a lot of videos, but I know what I would like to see. You have to trust yourself and believe it’s all going to be perfect. I’ve worked on films where you have so many cooks that the flavour is cooked out of it. You have too many people overseeing everything. The beauty of this is I do what I feel and that’s how it’s happened.”