Posted on September 1, 2025 under Storytelling with one comment

 

L to R : John Melanson, Dan O’Connell, Len MacDonald, Rick Berry – Fairview, Alberta 1977

 

Arms and Legs

I met Dan in the schoolyard 67 years ago.

He was the tallest kid in the school yard.

The first thing I noticed was that he was all arms and legs.

This gangly kid would become a lifelong friend.

We both came from large, Catholic family and were expected to be faithful followers. When we were approximately 10 years of age, we were enlisted in the John Boscoe society. I sent this little blurb to Dan about that experience:

“When was the last time you saw someone under the age of forty go to church?  It is as rare as someone doing the dishes by hand.  I haven’t dusted off the old Baltimore Catechism lately and I haven’t attended a meeting of the John Bosco society in over sixty years.  I never quite understood why I used to go to the local elementary school on Saturdays, in the heat of the summer, with several of my pals, including Dan O’Connell to attend meetings of this society.  A little research shows me that John Bosco was a 19^th century priest, educator and writer.  One of his missions in life was dedication to the betterment and education of juvenile delinquents.  Now I understand.”

Both of us remembered the time that we were the only two to show up one hot, humid Saturday afternoon. I guess we didn’t get the memo that it had been cancelled.

We stumbled around St.F.X. for a few years in the early 1970’s. By then he was an accomplished musician. We played in a band called Fungus. Our motto: “We grow on you”.

I was living in Victoria after graduation and at one time, lived on an old country estate. That summer, Dan had hitchhiked across Canada. I can still see him walking up the long laneway to my brother’s house on Noble Road after a long and at times discouraging adventure.

We both returned to our alma mater in the fall of 1975 to pursue a teaching degree. We were both enrolled in the secondary program with an emphasis on English. Our English methods instructor was a short, imperious man from Tasmania. He was a scholar. We were not. He asked us to submit a piece of writing as our first assignment. A few days later, he returned with the carnage. Everyone in the class received a failing grade with the exception of Dan and one other person. He went on to humiliate two female students. Later in the year, we staged a walkout of his class and convened at the O’Connell house at 28 West Street.

There were no job opportunities for teachers in Nova Scotia in the mid-seventies, especially new graduates. Alberta was clamoring for teachers. Even before we finished our school year, most of us had secured work out west.

I accepted a position in Fairview, Alberta as did Dan… in the same school. Little did we know that four other STFX grads were on their way. One of them was teaching in the next town. I was the only one who had secured an apartment. Lo and behold, my two-bedroom apartment was inhabited with 6 newly minted teachers.

All six of us were in relationships in various states of disarray. My telephone was getting a serious workout. I had a rotary phone attached to the wall. The first phone bill arrived early in October. Back then, the phone companies listed all the calls, the duration and the charges. My statement was 14 pages long and the bill was $739.92. That was a lot of money in 1976. It’s a lot of money in 2025.

That evening, we convened to go over the bill to figure out who owed what. There was alcohol at this gathering and well into the proceedings, one of the guys went over to the wall and ripped it from its moorings. The following Monday, John Melanson and Dan arrived in the staffroom, pulling the phone along the ground, whistling to it as if it was a dog. Most of the staff were still getting used to “the five wise men from the east” and this display left many of our ultra conservative colleagues slack jawed.

I saw a lot of Dan over the next few years. He taught grade 9 English and he certainly left his mark on his students. Besides being an excellent teacher, he introduced them to Dylan (not Dylan Thomas!), Led Zeppelin and several other artists. I have kept in touch with a few of his former students and they still talk about Dan and how he influenced their musical tastes.

There are so many Fairview stories, many of them that I shouldn’t repeat. One that I CAN share involved the NDP. Our vice-principal was a huge N-Dipper. Our MLA was NDP leader, Grant Notley. Yes. Rachel’s dad. With an impending election, the boys were asked to go to several rallies throughout the riding to perform music prior to Grant speaking. This region of Alberta was heavily populated with German and Ukrainian farmers – a very serious, hardworking lot. Of course, we always had a few brew before our performances. The farmers sat stony faced trying to interpret Little Feat and John Prine.

Our paths crossed many times over the ensuing decades. Inevitably the guitars would come out. And as sure as the sun rises in the east, Dan would turn to me and say, “Leonard. Bring us down”. That was my cue to sing Neil Young’s mournful version of “Oh Lonesome me”.

On July 28^th. I had my last long chat with Dan at The Maples. I hadn’t seen him in a while and hadn’t realized he was suffering from COPD. I did most of the talking but Dan had that sly grin on his face as I regaled him with stories, including his one day of employment at McDonald’s bakery in Victoria. Little did I know that it would be our last visit.

Other than my siblings, I have known Dan longer than anyone else.

We were good friends.

Arms and legs.

Heart and soul.

Wit and wisdom.

I’ll miss him as will those of you gathered here today.

P.S. Dan. It’s Sunday in Victoria and it grieves me not to be at your celebration. However, I want you to know that I’m sitting with the New York Times Sunday crossword puzzle.

Peter and I will sing “Oh Lonesome Me”.

 

Posted on December 16, 2021 under Storytelling with one comment

 

The hug

What are the 10 greatest movies of all time? Books? Songs? Or, who is the GOAT (Greatest Of All Time) when it comes to ranking sports figures, female actresses or political figures? There seems to be a fascination with compiling these kinds of lists, but at the end of the day, this exercise is very subjective by its very nature. No one can dispute that Wayne Gretzky has amassed the most points in NHL history but was, or is he, the greatest hockey player of all time? My vote still goes to Bobby Orr.

As I take my leave from the north, I have a list of my own to share with you. Here is a list of my 10 most memorable moments… from a very long list. You may wonder why there’s barely a mention of my students but privacy prevents me from disclosing this type of information.

#10. Holding the end of a skipping rope at -30. Never, ever in my wildest dreams did I ever think I would return to teaching after a mere 40- year layoff or did I think that this would happen in the Arctic. I knew that dusting off my BEd., after such a lengthy hiatus, would be challenging. I knew my skills would be rusty and that school curriculum had probably changed a dozen times over the years. But somethings never change. Elementary students still go outdoors for recess. Some activities have stood the test of time. While schools have built incredible playground apparatuses, kids still like the basics like kicking a ball or skipping. But I have to admit, I was stunned on my first day of recess duty when I was asked to hold the end of a skipping rope. This in itself is not that remarkable but the fact that it was -30 was stunning to me. I thought a skipping rope would freeze and break into little pieces in these temperatures.

#9. Managing a possible water contamination. Our senior administration team was away at meetings when the news came that there was a possible water contamination problem in our school. I certainly had no expertise in this but was asked to coordinate the efforts. The school was closed for almost a week as experts from the south arrived to empty and disinfect our water tanks, have them refilled and tested over several days. It was a great learning experience for me.

#8. I was asked to take part in an after-school activity as the accompanist for a children’s choir. We met weekly at the local museum to learn songs, mostly in Inuktitut. The local FM radio station is a critical piece of infrastructure in the village. It is the primary line of communication. Everyone listens to the FM. One day the choir was invited to perform live. We crowded into a small studio (pre-Covid) and gathered around a handful of microphones. The children were simply awesome including some young throat singers. The phone lines lit up in the studio as many people called in to express their joy in hearing the young people of the community preserving culture and language.

#7. It is no secret that I love to walk. I have walked (and run) in all kinds of crazy weather over the years but nothing could prepare me for a 7 kilometer walk with two of my colleagues last winter. The distance wasn’t that impressive, and the degree of difficulty wasn’t an issue. However, when you decide to go walking when it’s -50, then it’s a big deal. I know that this sounds totally crazy (which it is) but the three of us have an adventurous streak in us. When you have the proper clothing, masks and footwear, walking in extreme cold is not really a big deal.

#6. One of the greatest thrills of my life happened very early in my tenure in the north. On the first weekend after my arrival (I came to Kangiqsujuaq on November 6, 2019), I went for a walk on the frozen lakes on the outskirts of the village with a group of teachers and students. On the return trip to the village, I could see a dogsled team off in the distance. They were coming in our direction. Despite the frigid temperatures, I removed my gloves and readied my phone camera. I was astonished to discover how quickly the powerful dog team steamed across the frozen lakes and tundra.

#5. When someone dies in the village, everything shuts down for the funeral. This includes the school. In the winter, the ceremony is conducted in the local gymnasium with burial in one of the cemeteries afterwards. Covid changed all that but the first funeral I attended was pre-Covid and this funeral was for an elder. You need to understand that elders are revered. I arrived at the Qaggiq (the local gymnasium) about ten minutes before the start of the service. There was a fair-sized crowd with people of all ages. By the time things got started, the place was packed. I was moved by the feeling in the room and the simplicity of the handmade wooden coffin. What intrigued me most was watching how people looked after several infants in attendance. They were passed around the room continuously. I never heard a whimper from one of them.

#4 – Christmas in Kangiqsujuaq. Last winter, Covid prevented many of us from travelling home for Christmas. The thought of spending my Christmas holidays in quarantine in Nova Scotia held very little appeal. I took part in several outdoor Inuit games. Me, and a number of my colleagues prepared Christmas dinner for about 125 people which we hand delivered to homes in the village. I’m normally not a big fan of New Year’s Eve mainly because I can’t stay awake! I was determined not to miss this one, so I went to bed for two hours and set my alarm for 11:30. I’m so glad I went. The fireworks display with the mountains and Wakeham Bay as the backdrop, was spectacular despite the fact it was bitterly cold. After the fireworks, I hopped on the back of a skidoo for a parade through the village.

#3. I got to go seal hunting and ice fishing with my students. This was a great thrill seeing my students in their element. The Inuit are people of the land and sea and watching young children do what comes naturally was a great joy.

#2. The sky. It’s hard to imagine that the sky could be on a top ten list but there’s something about the sky in the north that leaves you breathless almost every day… and night. Watching the Northern Lights in all their splendor is one of those things that needs to be seen. It defies description.

#1. The hug. This past fall, the village celebrated Truth and Reconciliation Day. Students and staff were dismissed early to do a walk through the village ending up at the Family House. The Family House is a safe house for families in need. Prior to the event, I was asked to come to the Family House after the walk to sing a few songs for some elders. They were seated around a dining table eating country food and telling stories in their native tongue. I listened intently to an interpreter. These women had been born in igloos or tents and I was fascinated with their stories of survival and resilience. I played a few tunes and even did a couple in Inuktitut. Knowing that these women were spiritual, I did a number of religious songs. I sang them in English, and they chimed in with their native tongue. The last song was The Old Wooden Cross. There was something about this song that touched them deeply as a few of the women had tears in their eyes. When the song ended, one of the women came up to me and gave me the biggest, warmest, and most heartfelt hug of my life. I nearly lost it. This, folks, is my number one memory of my time in the north.

I should give honorable mention to “country food”. The Inuit grew up eating food from the land and sea and they still do to this day. I had many opportunities to sample raw and cooked fish and meat. Caribou was easily my favourite (Cooked!). I also sampled delicacies like arctic char eyes, the brains of a Canada Goose and the eyeballs of a ptarmagin!

In closing, I want to thank everyone in Kangiqsujuaq for giving me the education of a lifetime. I was touched by your warmth and generosity of spirit.

What a great way to bookend a work career.

Have a great weekend.

Posted on May 24, 2021 under Storytelling with 4 comments

A gift from Jobie. It says “welcome”.

 

“School days, school days,

Dear old golden rule days,

Reading and writing and ‘rithmetic,

Taught to the tune of a hickory stick.”

School Days

 

Do you want to hear about my last day at school? Of course, you don’t but I have nothing else to write about, so you’ll just have to suffer through this, all 1540 words.

Despite advanced age, most of us can still remember as children, the anticipation of the last day of school. Instead of the drudgery of school, we faced an endless summer of playing outdoors and going to the beach. I was an avid golfer and shortly after my report card was delivered home, I was on my way to the golf course.

“School’s out for summer,

School’s out forever.”

School’s Out – Alice Cooper

It is rather odd to end a school year at the end of May when it is still winter but that’s how it is in the north. As it turned out, it was a good thing that school ended the day it did because the morning after, we awoke to a blizzard, not to be confused with the tasty treat from DQ. Like so many other momentous days in our lives, sleep the day before a big event comes at a premium. Not that this would come as a surprise, but I was on the go at 4:50 a.m. on the last day of school, after what can only be considered a mediocre sleep. Adrenalin and the promise of a beer that evening would get me through the day.

Like many schools, ours is broken up into segments. The K-3 classes are a unit, followed by grades 4-6 and then secondary or high school. In our group there were two classes of 4, 5 and 6, English and French. I was blessed to have young, smart, energetic colleagues who took it upon themselves to plan out activities for the last few days of school.

Of course, the day started with the mandatory cleaning out of desks. There is something cathartic about tossing out all those notebooks and fossilized orange peels lurking in the bowels of one’s desk. When we were kids, the contents of our desk, along with projects and (gasp) even books, were amassed in an open field behind our neighbor’s house, creating a pretty impressive bonfire.

The students in the two grade six classes were “graduating” to secondary so a parade through the school was held. All of the students on the elementary side of the building made signs wishing the new graduates success. They stood in the hallways, clapping and cheering as the grade 6s paraded proudly downstairs and upstairs, ending the march at the entrance to the high school. I had never seen this done before but I have to admit that it was a pretty cool thing and one that the students aren’t likely to soon forget.

I decided to have a pizza party for my class after the parade. The school’s main kitchen called the Nirivik is handy to the art room. For practical purposes, I cooked the pizzas in the Nirivik and then carted them down the hallway to the art room. My students filled their bellies with pizza and some homemade chocolate chips cookies that I had made the day before. For background music, we listened to a collection of Inuit rap artists. Pizza and Inuit rappers… quite the combo!

“So let’s dance, the last dance,

Let’s dance, the last night,

Let’s dance this last dance tonight.”

Last Dance – Donna Summer

In the afternoon, each of the six classrooms (Grades 4,5,6 x2) hosted an activity. Every twenty minutes, students would rotate going to the next classroom until they had taken part in all activities. Not surprisingly, I decided that my class would be the music room. Last year, before Covid, the school held what was called Just Dance on the last Friday of every month. It was a chance for the entire school to go to the gym and let off some steam, dancing to music videos projected on to the wall of the gym. The videos were high octane featuring animated characters. Sadly, Covid put an end to that.

The high school students, by and large, were far too cool to take part in these dances but the younger children on the elementary side just went nuts on Just Dance days. When the students arrived in my class, I told them that I would award a prize (an Oh Henry chocolate bar) for the best dancer and singer. It was amazing. Even students who are generally reticent to take part in these types of activities were busting moves. Unbridled joy is the only way I can describe it. After three Just Dance videos, I accompanied the kids with my guitar as we sang Country Roads (every student in the school knows this John Denver classic) and a well- known Inuit song. They were all smiling and laughing as they exited my room.

And then, they were gone.

It was a fantastic day but unfortunately the day was not over. We had to rearrange our classrooms for parent teacher night that evening. You heard right. After an exhausting day we had to return to the school for two hours that evening to meet parents and hand out report cards. Walking to Ballantyne’s Cove (42km) was not nearly as tiring as this day!

One of my most challenging students arrived with her father. Even though we had our battles, I was very fond of this young girl. Her father thanked me for my service and told me that he and his daughter were both sad that I was leaving the community. He then presented me with a piece of handmade Inuit art (seen in the picture above). I’m sure there was a measure of fatigue involved but I had a lump in my throat at this expression of friendship and generosity.

I was running out of gas as I awaited the arrival of the last family. “Hi Len.” An 8-year-old girl from the grade 3 class was standing in front of me. “Will you sing me a song?”

It should be mentioned that on Parent-Teacher night, many of the parents bring some or all of their children with them. The children wander the halls.

In a previous post I mentioned that there is a program in the school called AIM. From K-3, all instruction is in Inuktitut. Once the students get to grade three, their family has to decide on French or English as a second language when they enter grade 4. While they are still in grade 3, they start to take introductory classes in English and French three periods a week. Part of my job description was to work with the grade three students who chose English. I used an excellent program called Jolly Phonics and along with some old Sesame Street episodes and my trusty guitar, I was able to give these children a start.

Now, the young girl standing in front of me was NOT in my grade 3 AIM class. She was in the group who went for French instruction. Her English was remarkably good. I went and grabbed my guitar. I asked her what song she would like to hear.

It should ne noted that on most occasions, I ended my AIM classes playing my guitar. Rather than put the guitar away, I would walk the students back to their home room. More often than not, we would be singing one of the songs that I had taught them, like Skinnamarink or Baby Beluga.

“Could you sing Ed The Invisible Dragon?” I would be surprised if any but a few of you would be familiar with this children’s song. I learned it last year. It was recommended by a friend who asked me to sing it for one of her children during one of my 55 Pillow Talk shows on Facebook.

A look of shock must have registered on my face. How could she possibly know this song when she wasn’t even in my class? Yes, she would have heard snippets of it in the hallway as this was a popular choice with my AIM students, but it was a surprising and mystifying choice. I was doubly shocked when she started singing the chorus with me, word for word.

There were many special moments from this last day of school but this one will stand out for me for a long time.

Part of the mystery was solved the next day when a colleague told me that the young girl had attended summer camp last August. Before school started last year, I volunteered at the camp five days a week doing music. There were a lot of children in this class that I didn’t know including the girl who now stood in front of me.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Music is universal and it is powerful.

I crawled home at 8:30 p.m.

Reading, writing and arithmetic will always be the foundation of a child’s education. They can be easily measured.

There are other school experiences that are harder to quantify but are every bit as important.

Pizza and Inuit rap come to mind!

Have a great week.

Happy Victoria Day!