ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY YEARS - REALLY, REALLY. ARE YOU SURE?
When we first began to hear about the one hundred and fiftieth birthday celebration of the Province of British Columbia Husband and I looked at each other in disbelief.....
Can this really be?
It seems like only a decade or so ago that we attended the Centennial Ball in Victoria, - surely fifty years can not have passed while our eyes twinkled and our feet danced and our children grew up and life went on.
Is it because we are no longer young that this celebration doesn't seem to have the spontaneity and excitement of the 1958 Centennial? Or is it a more sophisticated age and community is no longer of great importance?
This was a time Before Television, - whose advent (and our pernicious use of the media) is, in my opinion, responsible for a lack of interaction between people, a loss of neighbourhood and the push that started us on the slippery slope in the proverbial handcart.
It was the golden years of the Fifties when kids still played outside, creatively, dinner at night was a family affair, - just before we slid into the Sixties and the world turned sideways, at least.
It was a time when people didn't stay home to watch the Simpson's or the Sopranos but instead plunged into the Real Life where Real People were doing things.
All over the Province there were Centennial Committees with marvelous ideas that drew people together. Plans were made, projects were started, books were written and a exciting and celebratory time was had by all.
On June 26th, 1958, in the little village of Cawston where we farmed (five miles down the valley from where I now sit) there was a splendid summer day set aside to honour the pioneers of the District with a special luncheon. There was dancing, and music, a gymkhana and much merry making.
Alas, when in my mind's eye I picture the members of that Committee it comes to me with sadness and nostalgia that Husband is the only one left . He was probably the youngest, and the Chairman.
For which he got a nice award of merit