MY WEST COAST DAY -- ALL ABOARD?

 MY WEST COAST DAY: ALL ABOARD

The other day I embarked on a day journey on the West Coast Express train from Maple Meadows to downtown Vancouver.  As I stood on the platform, early as usual, I noticed a new sign, a bilingual sign, alerting passengers to free suicide prevention counselling.  Seemed like an odd place for the advert, but I guess we are in a social adjustment era that is seeing a need to reach out in large open settings. 

I have not been on the train in a couple of years but, interestingly, I found myself standing in the exact same spot on the platform as always. I entered the train via the same doors, turned in the same direction to the same sitting area, and then stopped myself. “Time for a change”, my inner voice said as my body turned left to reach the top floor to the observatory level.

What a difference a change can make! 

It was too dark to take photos but I could see the bright red blueberry fields like I have never seen them before. I felt like I was on top of the sawdust piles when we passed the fibre mill and on top of the huge rock piles as we passed the gravel fields; and, I could see that I was at eye level with the engineer of the passing train along the second track. I also noticed the sprawl of high rises spread out over the skyline of Coquitlam, blocking the view of the mountains that graced this once sleepy, often forgotten community. I was seeing my world from a whole new perspective and I’ll bet this COVID era has done that to us.

As the train stopped at its final destination, Waterfront Station which is inside of the former Canadian Pacific Railway station, I remained seated and watched the working class scramble out quickly to get to work or to catch their bus or skytrain connection to wherever they still had to go. In those few moments, 

I reminisced about my days of olde when I was one of those who leapt off the train with an extra jump in my step, as I pranced off to a much loved political job on the top floor of our World Trade Centre in Canada Place.  The song “Oh What A Life” sprang to mind and I smiled. It was that life that led me to this life, making me older and wiser, and perhaps more patient and understanding than I ever thought I could be.  

I think part of that reflection stems from a new book I am currently reading entitled The Indian in the Cabinet written by Jody Wilson-Raybould.  She was elected as a rookie Member of Parliament and instantly put into the dual role of Minister of Justice and Attorney General of Canada.  In her words, and I believe her, it was both an honour and a privilege to serve in that capacity and she took her responsibilities very seriously without regret.   She had never been involved in a political party and never served in an elected role except for elected roles within Indigenous organizations. In her words, the one is not at all like the other.

The long and short of it is, the inner workings of a political job is mind boggling and shocking, and for some, it is very difficult to play along. I can attest to that from my own direct experience in political life. Between the reality of the power within the inner circle of a leader’s office and what a dedicated and honourable elected person or staff person is prepared to offer, you are simply comparing apples to oranges. The name of the game, and yes it is a game, is TOW THE LINE.  In more or less Jody’s words: it is a unique culture inside the bowels of political life, divorced from daily realities and the lives of regular folk.  It truly is a completely different world and something that can only be understood by the people within that web. The notion of democracy was not intended to evolve like this — of that I am sure!

Anyway, the book has received a lot of accolades and recently was nominated for a prestigious award. I have one more chapter to read and can’t wait for the train ride home.

Lunch today was with a great guy named Clark; we went to the same high schools, worked on the same political campaigns and worked side by side on the political side of governance for at least two decades.  He has become a Queen’s Counsel lawyer, with significant international work experience, and he is a proud father of two academically strong university students.  We always have time for each other and treat each other to meals when we go out. Our friend Christy sometimes joins us but not this time — we did send her a photo though and we know she will smile in absentia. 

The train service to and from my home base is limited which means we have 4 trains out in the morning and 4 trains back in the late afternoon.  I had an hour to kill before getting the first train home so I went to the station intending to sit on a bench to finish the book.  All the benches had been removed!  I stood there still, and looked around at the beauty of that majestic historic building and noticed some information plaques mounted on some of the pillars. I went outside and walked around the building, and recalled my own train rides from that station to Trois Rivières, Quebec and to Ottawa — four return trips in total. Oh what a ride that was!  

Suddenly I could easily remember the sounds of trains, train whistles, train brakes; the waves from the engineer, conductor, porters and passengers, and the CP Telecommunications office where my dad worked when we lived in North Bend.  I can also remember missing all of that when we moved to the big city on the West Coast. It was like we left a lot behind and we would never get it back;  but, seeing much of that preserved in this historic CPR station, and having seen the amazing preservation of railway history when visiting North Bend last summer, has been both nurturing and appreciated. 

At this point I heard the doors to the outgoing train open and I scurried to get a good seat. The day has been misty and foggy, making me feel drowsy.  When I worked the Vancouver beat, my biggest fear was falling asleep on board and not waking up in time to disembark. The latter never happened; but, the former always did. This time I fell asleep before departing and woke up two stops early.

It has been a delightfully diverse day. I am happy to be home and will now get down to the final pages of a truly open and honest book written by a truly open and honest, proud and principled Indigenous Canadian. Getting it into the curriculum of high school Social Studies and university level Political Science would definitely be a great next step — not likely the former but more likely the latter. 

All Aboard!