One Man’s Dream … and a Dozen Roses

On the 30th of June 2015, hundreds of former students of the three high schools in Campbellton, New Brunswick, Canada will gather for an evening of handshakes, hugs and reading name tags.

The event — the brainchild of a former student — the late Brian MacNeish — will be held at the city’s Memorial Civic Centre. Showing up will be ex-students and teachers of Campbellton Composite High, Assumption Academy and Restigouche Senior High.

I’ll be there. For sure!

In Canada’s Centennial Year, 1967, I was one of about 100 teens who sauntered out of the CHS gymnasium clutching a piece of paper that represented twelve long years of studying and exams.

Many graduates left Campbellton to find jobs. Along the way, we also found ourselves.

Several hundred ‘Downhomers’ will show up for a special — dare I say magical — evening of mingling and finger-food munching at the Civic Centre. This will be my first-ever school reunion although, technically, it’s not really a school reunion. Even so — gotta admit — I’m excited about it.

For some former students, 50 years have come and gone since they last saw their classmates, many of whom were best friends at one time. Fifty years??? Are you kidding me? That’s half a century!

We’ll show up with grey hair — and those are the lucky ones. Some will have no hair at all. We left as teens, with our only wrinkles on our clothes. We’ll return as grandparents and — I’m giving my head a shake as I type this — great-grandparents. Yes, most will probably have glasses and contact lenses. And, of course, many will be heavier. I know I’ll be. But what the hell? Life happens. 

Point is, we’ve aged. Even so, another part of me says that when we meet, we’ll be 18 again.

Some won’t be at the get-together, for a number of reasons. They have busy lives, other plans and all that, or they didn’t hear about it. Perhaps they’re just not interested. Who knows. 

A good number of people won’t be able to attend, unfortunately, because they are no longer with us. 

This post will focus on three outstanding individuals from the Campbellton area who left remarkable legacies.

• student Brian MacNeish [64]; died in 2014;
• high school teacher Genevieve Ethier [97]; died in 2012;
• high school teacher Jean Olscamp [29]; killed in 1965.

[Note to the Language Police: Yes, I realize that Cross Point, Quebec is now Pointe-à-la-Croix, Québec. Sorry. Old habit.]

BRIAN MACNEISH – Student

A few years back, 1968 CHS grad Brian MacNeish, then living in Halifax, Nova Scotia, was attending Salmon Festival, a popular annual event in Campbellton. It dawned on ‘Fish’ — as he was known — that some former high school students were back in town and that it would be cool if they could meet somewhere. The get-together was his ‘dream,’ and he made it happen.

Remarkably, Brian rented a hall and ordered finger food — at his expense. I heard about this, and I was touched that someone — who was not rich — had foot the bill for everything. Who does that nowadays?

Must admit, I hardly knew Brian MacNeish. And that I regret. Back in the 1960s, ‘Fish’ and I passed in the hallways of Campbellton Composite High [now a middle school] on Arran Street. We nodded ‘hello’ … but that was about it. We were like two Finnish kids: He was quiet, I was quieter.

The years passed, then decades passed and I forgot about the man, oblivious to where he had gone in life and the things he’d accomplished. All that changed in February 2015 when a former Grade 9 classmate, Doris Best of Atholville, told me about about a gathering planned for late June in Brian MacNeish’s honour: “Brian’s Dream.”

I’m always curious — and I’m sure you are, too — as to what happened to old high school classmates. Where did they settle down? Did they go to university? What line of work did they get into? Did they marry … have kids? And yes, are they still alive?

As I grew older, more reflective questions popped into that old hard drive on my shoulders: Did they help others? … and did they make this world a better place? Attribute it to “old age,” but I have to be honest with you — that’s the measuring stick I now use.

To sum up, Brian MacNeish did Campbellton High proud. And if you’re from the area, Brian did you proud too. He was surely one of the good guys.

Let’s slip back to 1968 … and open up the CHS Yearbook to page 22. [Click to enlarge] Notice the first dude on the right.

 

In February 2014, high blood pressure finally got the best of Brian. He was at home when he suffered a massive stroke, one that put him in a coma. The man was on life-support for only a day or so when family members decided it was time for Fish to swim free. Brian died on the 15th of February — his 64th birthday — at a hospital in Halifax surrounded by his wife Shirley, his children and some close friends.

According to his obituary in the Halifax Chronicle Herald, Brian ‘joined the Council of the Gods of the Universe’ with music from the 1960’s British rock group, Led Zeppelin. The song? Ramble On … [“Leaves are falling all around, it’s time I was on my way. Thanks to you, I’m obliged for such a pleasant stay’]

I suppose another Zeppelin hit that could have worked just as well was Stairway to Heaven. Hmmm. Maybe not. Brian wasn’t too religious.

Rob MacNeish pointed out that his Dad did not believe in organized religions. I interjected, “But he was spiritual, wasn’t he?” “Greatly! … yes.”

Brian’s wife, Shirley MacNeish, says that “Brian believed in being good, kind, truthful … and working hard.”

Brian MacNeish lived life to the fullest. He and his wife toured and influenced those they met, and there were many. Quoting from his obit, “Brian’s life was big. Farming, construction, energy auditing with the Province [of Nova Scotia] and privately, home inspection, and real estate were the tip of the iceberg of his careers. He lived his passions, reducing untold tons of carbon emissions from our atmosphere — a testament to his love for the world.”

Sounds to me that if Brian wasn’t such a devout atheist, he would have made a great preacher.

Brian also has daughter. At the time this article was written, Avery MacNeish was travelling in Central America. And when he passed, he was a grandfather [grandson; Hunter]

I had a long talk with his wife of many years, Shirley. She shared that she and Brian met when they were students at Mt. Allison University in Sackville, New Brunswick. “Married 37 years?” I asked. Keep in mind we’re now living in an era where people change spouses as often as hockey players change teams. I joked, “If you were living in Alberta, they’d name a bridge after you.”

Shirley spoke about her late husband as though he was sitting alongside her and they were flipping through a photo album, reminiscing. The woman was at peace. She had married someone who was very special, and she knew it.

Rob MacNeish describes his Dad as an “old hippie” and that he loved music — especially the old ‘rockers’ from the 1960s. Put another way, I don’t think Brian was a huge fan of Lawrence Welk and his Orchestra.

A TIME TO CELEBRATE, A TIME TO HEAL

Hang on. If you’re into Led Zeppelin, click on the tiny white arrow to hear Ramble On, the song referred to earlier. Be patient, as it might not start right away. Hidden behind that black stripe on your computer screen is the actual band, the midgets they are, getting ready to entertain. So give them a few moments to get their instruments ready.

The tune runs 4:20. If the song isn’t to your liking, no problem, you can always scroll back and hit ‘pause.’

 

‘”Brian was kind,” says Shirley, “… kindness is what makes us secure as a society.”

“He was a very generous man,” she adds. “Brian helped people. We were certainly of the mind that if you could help, you should. Brian was also community-minded. If someone needed help putting a roof on, Brian would help them for a couple of days — for free. He didn’t expect to be paid.”

Mr. MacNeish was his own person. Some things he believed in; some he didn’t. And one of the things he did not believe in was funerals.

Instead of a funeral the family had a “real” Celebration of his Life, attended by about 200 friends and family members. The party lasted 24 hours with music, talk, food … and drink. According to Rob, “Everyone had a great time.”

“We had music, a BBQ tent, a pop corn tent, a beer tent, a Caribbean rum tent …” says Shirley. “That’s what Brian would have wanted.”

“The money spent on that party is what we would have spent on a funeral.”

Brian MacNeish’s generosity didn’t begin with the Salmon Festival in Campbellton. Rob recalls his dad getting a small inheritance. He didn’t spend the windfall on an addition to his house, a new stereo system or a trip overseas. The money went to help friends and family. Brian hadn’t forgotten those who’d helped him.

Sounds like Mr. MacNeish was not only an old hippie, but one who “walked the talk.” The sense I get is that Brian did what he had to do, and that he felt people didn’t have to be dressed in a suit to solve problems.

When Brian travelled he was not impressed when he saw luxuries or rich estates. Injustices and inequality didn’t sit well with him either. Rather, the man was drawn to the shanties where the poor lived. In that respect, Brian MacNeish left Campbellton and became a Citizen of the World — and a teacher. It’s stuff like that which makes teachers smile.

Ron Reid, a long-time Campbellton resident and a retired worker with NB Power, had this to say about the Brian he knew as a kid: “He was wise beyond his years.”

Another former CHS student, Ken Chambers of Saint John, New Brunswick, described Brian as a ‘deep thinker.’

John McDonald of Toronto was with Brian MacNeish from Grade 1 to Grade 12. “He was always one of the top students,” McDonald recalls, “a nice boy, reflective … he listened carefully. I liked ‘Fish.’ I liked him a lot.”

I have time for people like Brian MacNeish. I sure wish I’d gotten to know him. It doesn’t bother me one bit that he was a “devout” atheist. Given the mess that organized religious have created, I understand where he was coming from. As someone once said, “I’ve got nothing against God — it’s His fan club I can’t stand.”

One final thing …I was wrong about Brian MacNeish. He was rich. He not only ‘found himself,’ he found the courage to be the person he was meant to be.

As for his dream of a high-school get-together, well, some dreams do come true. RIP, ‘Fish.’

GENEVIEVE ETHIER – Teacher

Campbellton High School teacher Miss Genevieve Ethier [pronounced: etch-chay] was a native of New York State. She taught typing. And she did that for decades. I might be wrong, but I believe she went to school with George Washington.

Miss Ethier was tough, but I give her full credit. She taught us how to type, and the proof is right here: as I work on this story, I’m blazing along at 150 words per minute. Okay, 60 then.

Just an aside here, it was Miss Ethier, not Ms. Ethier.

Miss Ethier and I didn’t really get along, although I’m not sure why. She knew me as ‘Byron’ and I knew her as ‘battle-ax.’ Well, I’m being honest. In the fall of 1967, I pulled out of Campbellton and — given my age [18] — I didn’t really give much thought to all the good teachers I had over the years, including Ms. Ethier.

But age has a way of sneaking up on you, tapping you on the shoulder and making you think.

It was back in 2001 when someone said they thought Genevieve Ethier had died. “Gosh,” I thought, “I never got to say good-bye … but more important, I never thanked her.” I felt like an ass.

I tried to reach anyone in Campbellton who might have been close to Miss Ethier, and the first number I dialed belonged to a ‘G. Ethier’ at 506.753.3716. An older woman answered. “Hello?” she said. And I said, “I’m looking for someone who knew Miss Ethier.” “This is she,” she said. God. She was alive. I told her who I was. At that point she said, “You’re in Edmonton. And you work for the CBC [the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation].” “I did,” I corrected her. Ding. The woman was not only alive and kicking, but she was as sharp as a tack.

I told why I was calling because someone said that she had died. “Well, I’m very much alive,” she shot back with a tone that suggested I wasn’t far off in calling her battle-ax. “What’s your address?” I asked. She gave it to me, explaining she was now living at the Bursey Towers, a senior’s complex on Dover Street in the east end of Campbellton.

Next day, a dozen red roses arrived at her door. She phoned — all excited — to say thank you. Women and flowers, I tell you.

Miss Ethier and I became friends. Whenever I was in Campbellton, I’d drop around to her small apartment and sip on tea and munch on cookies. I just felt strange to ask for a beer, so I didn’t. She talked a lot about her relatives, especially those who had been in a car accident while travelling to see her. She also went on about the “old days” — and by that I mean when she grew up in the United States, her family relocating to Edmundston, New Brunswick … then her move to Campbellton where a teaching job was waiting for her at the new, red brick high school on Arran Street.

Miss Ethier interrupted herself to say that the “beautiful” roses I’d sent were the first a man had given her since her father gave her roses when she graduated from high school, probably 70 years ago. She smiled and paused, as though her mind had drifted back to a time when she was still a teen.

Miss Ethier hadn’t changed. Not one bit. She walked over to her living room window, which looked out on the new high school, just down the street. “Look at those kids today,” she said, hands on her hips, “they get driven to and from school. No wonder they’re fat!” I tried to impress upon her that I was still in [relatively] good shape and, in fact, that I continue to climb the face of Sugarloaf Mountain. “What?” she said, incredulously, “you’re going to fall and break your neck!”

I continued to see Miss Ethier, which was fairly frequently, and sometimes we went for a spin in my rental. One evening we were walking out to the parking lot, her arm on mine for support, and she stopped dead in her tracks. “Want to know something?” she said, “some of the patients here are former students of mine.”

The old gal had slowed down herself. She was no longer the woman who stomped to the back of the class, ruler in hand, to snap the fingers of some poor kid caught passing notes. Like me. Whack! The original ‘auto correct.’

Jim Babcock, a former CHS student who now lives in nearby Tide Head, describes Ethier this way: “Tough — but good,” with the emphasis on ‘good.’ “You learned typing.”

Babcock ran across his old teacher a number of times, long after she’d retired. “She wasn’t crippled up, and she moved right along,” he recalls. “She knew who you were, too. I think she knew every one of us — and, remember, she taught hundreds and hundreds of students.”

We went to several restaurants, Miss Ethier and I. One was down near the City Centre Mall, forget the name of it now. One evening we had a nice meal, and I was taking her back home. I figured it was a good time to play some music from the 1940s and 50s. So, I plugged in the iPod and got it going. A tune by the McGuire Sisters came over the speakers. I held up the iPod and announced, ‘This little gadget holds more than three thousand songs!” She stared at it, and said — squinting all the while — “How do they get all those songs in that little thing?” “My,” she said, shaking her head. Digital technology had overwhelmed the old gal. I get that. It baffles me too. I didn’t bother asking Miss Ethier if she had a twitter account.

One time, she and I stood on the main level of her apartment complex, waiting for the elevator to take us up to her apartment on the fourth floor [Unit 405]. Before I go further, I believe that some inquisitive people reside in senior’s homes … because … an equally old lady kept eyeing us. She may have figured I was Miss Ethier’s son, not sure. In any case, I broke the ice. “I’m not her son,” I said, “… I’m her boyfriend. She goes for younger men.” Well. Ms. Ethier said nothing. She just stared at the elevator door, her eyes getting bigger as we waited for the door to open. After we got in and the door shut, I was going to say, “Slap my knuckles with a ruler, would ya?” but instead I said, “Don’t worry, she won’t remember a thing. She likely has Alzheimer’s.”

On my second last visit with Miss Ethier, I sat down on her couch and on the coffee table, right in front of me, she plunked down more than half a dozen CHS yearbooks. “These are yours,” she announced. “I won’t be needing them much longer.”

I gave some of her yearbooks to friends in Campbellton, mailed one to my sister, Cheryl Mayer, in London, Ontario, kept one for myself [1967] … and the remaining book — from 1968 — I’ll give to some lucky person at Brian’s Dream.

When I got back to Edmonton, I flipped through the pages of the ’67 Yearbook, remembering all the faces and most of the names. On page 30, I came across my photo. I was touched by Miss Ethier’s handwritten notation. Click on the image to get a better view.

I last saw Miss Ethier just a few months before she died. It was the fall of 2011 and she’d moved from her apartment to the main floor of an extended care centre, within the same complex. She now shared a room with an elderly woman.

I quietly sat down beside my old typing teacher and nudged her shoulder, waking her up or at least getting her attention. Miss Ethier turned my way and said, “You’re back.” I said, “You moved. What happened? … didn’t pay your rent?” “No,” she said, “I just got old.”

“How are you feeling?” I asked. “Terrible,” she said.

I know we’re not supposed to ask a woman her age, but I did. “How old are you?” “96,” she replied without a moment’s hesitation. “I’ll be 97 next month [November 2011].” “Are you trying to reach 100? … now that would be something.” “Gosh, no,” she said, with more than a hint of resignation, “… this is bad enough.”

Miss Ethier continued to call a spade a spade, mentioning out loud that the woman resting in a bed 20 feet away was keeping her awake at night because she made too much noise.

I told Miss Ethier that I planned to climb the Sugarloaf again. “Don’t fall,” she said. At that point, I stood up to leave and gave her left shoulder a gentle squeeze. I looked back to see her watching a TV program, though she didn’t seem too excited. It might have been the weather channel, not sure.

I never saw her again. At least I got to say thanks.

One morning, I got a phone call out of the blue from lawyer Thomas McBrearty in Campbellton. He had some sad news: His dear friend and client, Genevieve Ethier, had died the day before — on New Years Day, 1 January 2012. “She talked about you,” McBrearty revealed. I told him I thought the world of Miss Ethier.

It was good of McBrearty to phone. That was classy.

Three months after Genevieve Ethier died, Thomas McBrearty himself crossed over. McBrearty, who had cancer, spent his final days at a hospital in Saint John, New Brunswick.

When I heard that Miss Ethier had really died, I teared up.

For the woman who so enjoyed flowers, I lit a small tea candle and reflected — not just about our time at Campbellton High in the 1960s — but about the highs we shared, decades after that school bell stopped ringing.

Jocelyn Paquette, Head of the Campbellton Centennial Library, reveals that Miss Ethier left them funds “so that we could buy what we needed.” “Our library,” she writes in an email, “benefitted greatly from an endowment Genevieve arranged.” Hundreds of books now commemorate Miss Ethier’s gift.

“It was a great honour to be remembered by her,” Paquette concludes. I agree.

Miss Ethier continues to be a teacher, even after she’s gone. That’s a whole new level of cool.

RIP, Miss Ethier. I like to think when you arrived on the Other Side that your proud father welcomed you with a dozen roses.

JEAN OLSCAMP – Teacher

This story in The Tribune [a weekly newspaper based in Campbellton] says it all. Click to read an account of how one local teacher had such a positive and lasting impact on her students.

You’ll notice in the story a reference to a 1960s song by the Lovin’ Spoonful, Do You Believe in Magic? The song came over the local radio station, CKNB, at a time when our funeral procession, heading west towards the church in Atholville, was stopped at a red light at the corner of Roseberry and Sugarloaf.

Thirty-six years later [2011], I was back in Campbellton. I was behind the wheel of my rental and headed west on Rosebery Street when I pulled up — at a stop sign now — where Roseberry meets Sugarloaf. Music was randomly playing on my iPod, which had a few thousand songs. Guess which tune was playing? I mean, what are the odds? A psychic would say, “Hey, that’s no coincidence … that’s Jean!”

I will never forget that long drive to Jean Olscamp’s church in Atholville. RIP, Jean.

So there you have it. A look at one outstanding student and two outstanding teachers.

But know that many more great students and teachers attended Campbellton High, the Assumption Academy and Restigouche Senior High … too many to include their stories in this post.

I’ve written about how two teachers had a positive impact. Of course, when I went to school in Campbellton I had dozens of teachers. Others who ‘made a difference’ for me were, in no particular order, Jean Stewart, Lou Bursey, Claire Dawson and Julie Van Horne, who have all left us now. If you’re from the Campbellton area, I’m sure you have your own list of teachers you would salute.

To sum up, a good number of students and teachers from Campbellton turned out to be “All Stars,” people who went above and beyond. We all benefited from them, and we owe them all a huge ‘thank you.’

 

THE REUNION & MEMORIES 

It was Dan Bartolovic who wrote, “A trip to Nostalgia now and then is good for the spirit.” You’re wondering who Dan Bartolovic is. I have no idea. I found his quote on the Internet, and I’m giving him credit.

A six-member committee is organizing Brian’s Dream, all but one member from the Campbellton-area. With thanks and deep appreciation, here they are!

• Susan [Irvine] Caron
• Marlie [Dow] Wirtanen
• Ann [Butler] Power
• Doris [White] Pollock
• Susan [Wood] Porter
• Penny Adams [in British Columbia]

There will be many ‘flashbacks’ during the June get-together, with former students carrying old Yearbooks and flipping open the pages … and seeing something like this:

CAMPBELLTON AERIAL SHOTS — NEW AND OLD

For some cool photos … go to: http://byronchristopher.org/2014/09/29/aerials-campbellton-new-brunswick-and-area/

 

IN CLOSING, some reunion funnies …