For almost a quarter century this scribbler outside his tasks as a newspaperman has dedicated his working life to a humble contribution of heritage preservation.
From each spring to fall I hit the back roads of Western Canada to photograph and write stories about lost and forgotten communities and relics of the past, like the crumbling ruins of old classic false-fronted stores, community halls and even badly cracked sidewalks. With each, there are countless stories to tell.
Along this journey, which will take me to the end of my days, I have taken hundreds of thousands of photographs, written books, and contributed countless stories to magazines and newspapers, including for my own company. It is a mission that has called to me.
When an old pioneer structure is faced with either the wrecking ball or closure, a feeling of sadness comes. About 15 years ago, my ex-wife strongly suggested I better start photographing every wooden grain elevator I came across. If I didn't, it was suggested, important memories would be lost forever. I listened, and six years later I completed a project of photographing every known remaining wooden country grain elevator in Western Canada and Ontario -- more than 1,000 of them. I then turned to water towers. Alberta is done and the rest of Western Canada is about 75 per cent finished.
While my sadness often morphed to anger in the past, along with calls to governments and the private sector to pay attention and do better with heritage preservation, realism took over. All the loud protests in the world won't change the inevitable. Progress marches on, and the best way for this scribbler to fight is through awareness, to preserve the memories for future generations by writing and taking photographs.
On April 1, after a long day at work, I decided to drive to Benalto. I wanted to see the 78-year-old school that was being threatened with closure. I walked around the hamlet, took many photographs, and met two dedicated ladies who worked so incredibly hard to convince the Chinook's Edge School Division to keep their beloved institution open.
It won't happen. The board of trustees decided on April 6 it had to bow to changing times, that the financial risks were just too great to keep the school open beyond June 30. The decision devastated the dozen Benalto parents who attended the meeting. All of them fear the loss of the school will turn their quaint little hamlet into a ghost town.
But Chinook's Edge officials were not blind to their passion. Several times, Kurt Sacher, the superintendent of schools, praised the dedication and passion of the community to save its institution. But ultimately the mandate of the school board, especially in these deepening recessionary times, is to provide the best educational experience for more than 11,000 students. The hard truth is that there is simply no room in the budget to support a rural school with a proven record of declining enrolment.
The doors on Benalto School have to be shut. Equal fairness throughout the school division must prevail. That is the correct decision.
I still sense that sadness, however. But my mission along the back roads continues. It will take me to Benalto once again.
