Blogging at the Big Dog

A couple of days ago, I got a comment on this blog regarding my May 31 post, Ian Bush Inquest overdone but not over or done that took the side of Const. Paul Koester (see comments below).

This is interesting and good. Finally, someone willing to stand up and dispute all the outpouring of grief and disbelief surrounding this event.

Oh wait, I take that back. The writer of the comment did not stand up. It’s easy to post something anonymously, it’s something altogether to put your name to it.

I think I’ve covered this story in as balanced a way as possible considering the deafening silence that accompanied the RCMP’s side of this tragedy until Koester himself testified nearly 19 months after-the-fact.

When I have voiced an opinion, you’ll notice my name and even my picture goes along with it.

This blogger, who signed on as RK, made some interesting accusations against Ian Bush that, if true, would certainly shed new light on the situation, if not explain the very questionable manoever the officer allegedly pulled off to to kill him.

The author also made a very dangerous philosophical assertation: “How dare anybody question this police officer’s version of the incident,” RK wrote.

To me, that reads: How dare anybody question authority. It is that kind of attitude that leads to regimes like Nazi Germany.

It is our job in the fourth estate to question authority. I don’t know what happened in that room on Oct. 29, 2005, but I do know that nobody, including cops, want something like this to happen. Putting “them” above “us” is no way to run a justice system. I do know that not questioning something is complicity.

Shortly after I broke the story of who the officer involved was, Houston Today, Feb. 22, 2006, I was accosted on the streets of Houston by an irate woman. She gave me a tongue-lashing about our coverage I won’t soon forget. That is fine. Although I was quite taken aback, I was eager to have another viewpoint because, up until that point, we only had Bush family’s and friends’ reaction to the shooting.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“That’s not important,” she said.

Actually, it is more important than her opinion. Without a name behind it, it’s moot. Without context there is no perspective. Without relationship there can be no compassion.

The reason Linda Bush is so compelling is because she is Ian’s mom. The reason the RCMP are not is because Staff Sgt. John Ward and Cpl. Pierre Lemaitre are professional media hacks trained in obfuscation.

It must be very frustrating for supporters of Koester’s to feel so handcuffed, to be bound by duty or association to abdicate their Charter right to free speech, but that is their choice.

I respect any well-informed opinion, but I cannot and will not give any credence to words crafted in anonymity.

Please, people, have the courage to stand by your convictions, put your name forward or forever hold your piece.

I love this time of year.
The long days, the beautiful weather, the promise of summer.
Oh yeah, and another Midsummer Festival controversy.
Last year, it was about camping. The folks who run the annual folk fest didn not like some of the folks who were ruining the folksy atmosphere with their rowdy behaviour.
They wanted to bring it back to a more family-oriented affair, like it was when they started 23 years ago, they said.
It was. A real, nice, mellow time. Except for that girl at the coffee hut. She was a little high-strung. Hmmm, caffeine-related perhaps?
I was worried about the camping thing and I said so in this space. Quite honestly I may have misjudged the character of the fest.
In any event, this year Mother Nature intervened. As discussed last week, she can be quite stern even to a bunch of mellow, folksy folks.
She left the Fall Fair grounds unsuitable for Midsummer and folk music society folks were forced to go pleading to Town council for an alternate site.
The natural spot? Obviously Heritage Park. It is where Midsummer started and where the Fall Fair used to be held too.
Five years ago, the last time the mighty Bulkley jumped its banks, so did Midsummer, right back to Heritage Park.
It wasn’t going to be easy. In an unprecedented show of opposition to a motion on the table, mayor Jim Davidson, handed the council meeting over to deputy mayor Cress Farrow.
After an extended debate — mostly Davidson and Coun. Bill Goodacre going head-to-head, surprise, surprise — the final vote was 4-3 in favour with Farrow and Coun. Jo Ann Groves joining the mayor in opposition, surprise, surprise.
Seems the folk festival folks weren’t the only folks who had noticed the black eye the rowdy folks had given to the little hometown festival.
Folks like farmer Jim sure didn’t want to see them kind of shenanigans going on right in the heart of town.
He certainly didn’t like my suggestion regarding a permanent relocation of the event.
George Stokes didn’t mind it though, saying it’s a constantly evolving event.
Joan Belford, one of this year’s coordinators was also circumspect, saying they wanted to use it as an opportunity to prove to Jim and other like-minded folks, that a bunch of music-loving hippies ain’t so bad, after all.
I, on the other hand, have no such diplomatic handcuffs. The Midsummer Festival should be permanently moved to Heritage Park.
In fact, the Town should endeavour to attract many more events to hold in the old fair grounds.
Food events spring to mind, like the 100 Mile House Garlic Festival, mmmmmm.
Isn’t this what we keep talking about? Revitalizing downtown?
If Midsummer goes as smoothly as last year, I’d say the door will be open.

No matter what your politics, you have to feel for Jim Davidson.

The mayor of Smithers has worked tirelessly to get the runway extension project on the ground and keeps getting beaten back by bureaucrats in Victoria and Ottawa.

Meanwhile, construction costs keep skyrocketing. The mayor will not say we will go it alone, but there comes a time –despite how unfair it may seem that there is limitless funding for the Lower Mainland and crumbs for the North — that we have to start thinking about doing it on our own.

Or, maybe we have to revisit whether we need it at all. Let’s face it, we currently only have a handful of flights coming into and going out of Smithers each day. If we build it, will they really come?

It’s hard to say. If hindsight is 20/20, foresight is a crap-shoot. The biggest proponent of the runway extension — aside from Jim – is a ski “resort” that is still trying to sort out its local debts much less investing in building something that would warrant airlines to schedule jet flights into our fair mountain town.

The next in line is a film commission selling the bright lights and tinsel of Hollywood based on a once-in-a-lifetime cinematic lottery, the repeat of which is quickly being consumed by a surging Canadian dollar.

And finally, we’ve got a — please say it’s defunct — “reality” T.V., hockey-related P.R. campaign by a purveyor of processed macaroni and cheese that would have sent our big prize, an NHL exhibition game, to Kitimat, not because of an inability to land a large airplane, but because our arena sucks.

So, while you’ve got to feel for the man, you also have to wonder: why are we doing this in the first place?

Well, I made my first foray into the wonderful world of multimedia. A video for the Houston Today Web site about the District’s 50th Anniversary dance.

All I can say is: I suck! Badly.

I did it all myself, though. From the camera work to the (what was it Borden, CFTK guy, calls that?) oh yeah, shot-listing to the stand up to the editing.

Most of the footage was either too dark or too shaky. The stand up took about 100 takes just to make it usable and I don’t know if another hundred takes would make it even passable. Apologies to all those folks who saw me talking to that dumpster outside the arena. I was not losing mind, although I almost did when I played it back and realized I should have been pointing the camera in the other direction.

The scene transitions are bogus, the reporting is lacking and the titles are amatuerish (at best). And it took me forever to do even that sucky of a job.

Granted, I’m a print guy… or at least a word guy, here I am blogging, after all. But there it is, for all the world to see. The first ever Houston Today video report. It was the party of the half-century in Houston and I wish I had done it better justice, because it rocked!

Then again, I’m growing with the little town that could. Branching out into unknown territory. Embracing the new (at least to me) media. And, at least now there’s some kind of video record to go along with all the print coverage. Don’t you still love the smell of ink on a Wednesday morning? I do.

You can check the video out just above this blog on the Houston Today Web site under Houston Today YouTube Videos.

I’ll get better, I promise. Hopefully, before the 100th.

 

 

The community spirit is wonderful. School children sandbagging. Neighbours helping neighbours.

And I have to admit, I haven’t heard a whole bunch of whining, aside from the occasional, “the government should be doing more.” Locals, from the folks on the flats to the owners of the Par-3 to the Terracites cut off from the rest of the world, just seem to be taking the flooding and landslides in stride.

Good for all of us.

Most of the strife we experience, is of our own choosing, because humans have no sense of time. Nevermind that there’s always a chance we’ll have one of those 200-million-year events (2,000 years with the creationist exchange rate), like a large meteor, even a 100 or 200-year event is so beyond our limited focus that we live and play in areas that are prone to disaster.

It is easily arguable there is not a single square inch of this incredible planet that is not subject to whims of Mother Nature, but we definitely tend toward those areas that are more likely targets of her wrath.

And rightfully so, because river valleys and coastal areas provide much easier access to life-sustaining resources than less disaster-susceptible areas, not to mention the more esoteric, emotional needs these environments fulfill.

Those who tend to the irreverent, might even be inclined to see God’s warped sense of humour at work. Make the safe areas uninhabitable and the unsafe areas abundant with promise. A choice to be sure, but not much of one.

In the end, we will get through this, perhaps not completely unscathed, but relatively so.

And the temporary physical hardship will undoubtedly be more tolerable than the inevitable climate change debate.

Sometimes this small town thing gets a bit creepy.

Over the last couple of days, I have received birthday greetings from folks who I had no idea would have any idea that my birthday is imminent, or how that information may have been obtained.

But, the fact is, somehow, information, either true or erroneous, gets around.

I have had my brushes with the (very minor) celebrity life. When I was playing music regularly in Ottawa, it wasn’t uncommon for people who I had no recollection of ever having met, to greet me by name.

After a while, I just got used to it. Sometimes it has its benefits (enough said), and sometimes you feel a little bit at a disadvantage.

But, in a town of roughly 5,000 people, the information that is out there seems to get a little more personal. Or perhaps, it is just that those who possess it have different attitudes about what is relevant.

Not that I’m complaining. When you put yourself out there, as I do week after week, one should expect a certain amount of public attention.

Last night, I watched a biography about Prince Charles. Despite my comparitively infinitesimal taste of being in the public eye, I can’t even imagine what it must be like to have every aspect of your life scrutinized like that.

I suppose you just get used to it.

If you’re Paris Hilton, you have your agent hold daily press conferences to let everyone know how you’re doing in jail.

Ultimately, what is really important, is having the feeling that you’re having some kind of impact.

In addition to all the unexpected birthday salutations, and wedding salutations, I’ve had a lot of feedback recently on my work. I won’t comment on the ratio of negative to positive. Suffice it to say, it is all welcome.

Even if it’s a little wierd sometimes.

 

It appears some folks are upset that we outed alleged sex offender Jaap Kalkman. Probably none more so than him, especially since the case is subject to a publication ban.
Kalkman is the Smithers physiotherapist who is facing two counts of sexual assault and one count each of sexual interference, invitation to sexual touching and indecent exposure before the B.C. Supreme Court. The alleged victim was under the age of 14 at the time of the alleged offences.
With these most heinous of crimes, even an eventual acquittal can be career-threatening or worse.
Making a decision to publish in cases like this is not something we take lightly. It is a delicate balancing act between the public’s right to know, the defendant’s right to justice and the victim’s right to anonymity.
After much due diligence, including discussions with our lawyer, we decided this story had to be a go.
The big issue is that people in positions of trust, like coaches, teachers, doctors and clergy members have to be held to the highest level of responsibility for the people, especially young people, in their care.
A person is innocent until proven guilty in a court of law, but when the Crown decides charges are warranted, that story becomes fair game. Judges almost automatically impose bans in these cases, the intent being to protect the victim. Unfortunately, all too often, it ends up protecting the perpetrator instead.