Can't Go Home Again

We spent today riding around Hudson's Hope, visiting old friends and reliving old memories.  Naturally, the town has changed quite a bit in the last 25 years, but it was sometimes surprising to see how things have also stayed the same.  Memories lurked around every corner, and if I stood in any one spot long enough more would just keep coming, sometimes with overwhelming power and clarity.

One third of my elementary school was disassembled and sold to another town, and the remaining two thirds are now offices, meeting spaces, stores, and a nice hair salon.  Thanks to the Pearkes Center's owner for letting us look around.

 

The trailer park that used to be nearby is gone, but the roads and pads remain.  What an odd sight.

The ice arena my Dad helped build is still there, but we didn't find time to go inside.

The pool I used to swim at is still open, and I met one of the people who taught me to swim.  (We didn't actually see her at the pool; she's the daughter of friends we had dinner with, and she stopped by to say 'hi'.)

Here are the townhouses we used to live in.  Later, when we lived in the house shown below, I was on a bicycle ride with my Dad on my new two wheeler.  I froze with terror as I careened down that incredibly steep hill (yes, the one in the picture) and failed to negotiate that sharp right hand turn before the townhouses. I left the road heading straight for the broad side of the townhouse, and became air born as I cleared the ditch.  I landed on the grass on the far side of the ditch, and remember laying there for a few minutes, with my Dad on the grass beside me as I recovered from the accident.  A nice memory, all told, but I decided not to try and recreate it with the motorcycles.

My childhood best friend Katherine's house is still there, but she and her family are long gone.  (She's recently married, and I've seen wonderful pictures of her with her husband in Paris.)  I didn't have time to go looking for the tree house behind her old place, but I did see the field she ran across, crying, after I happily explained to her how I figured out that the whole Santa Claus thing was a scam.  As I recall, neither she nor her father were nearly as happy about my discovery as I was.  He'd already called my Mom by the time I finished walking home (Katherine must have run fast when she was upset), and my Mom tried to explain to me why I might not want to tell all my friends about my discovery.  Over 25 years later, and I'm still surprised when people want to believe obvious lies.  When will I learn?

The family that bought our old house when we left still live there, although the father of the family passed away suddenly about two weeks ago.  He used to work for the Hydro commission like by Dad, and was just two years older.  Scary.

The grocery store is just as sad as I remember it.

The high school has been demolished, and a new health centre has gone up nearby.  I somehow forgot to find out where kids go to highschool now.  Perhaps the new elementary school I saw is actually K-12.

"The Hill" where we used to toboggan has been ruined by a Rec Centre of some kind.  We already had a Rec Centre!  It was called "The Hill"!

I played "I'll show you mine if you show me yours" in those trees over there, and in that house.  (Oh my!)

The dams my Dad helped commission are overrun with security now.  We had to register when we showed up at the W.A.C Bennett Dam, and got in trouble for going down to the main building to take pictures.  In our defense, they didn't tell us we couldn't, and there were no signs saying so either.  I stupidly began to explain this to the security guard, but she wasn't too upset with us to start with and I quickly realized I should just apologize and move on.  In the picture below, you can see someone just behind the bike coming to ask if we're lost.  "Not at all," I told her.  Security found us a few minutes later.

We took the $6 tour of the dam ($4 for seniors, Dad), which felt a little odd to me, and must have been downright surreal for my father.  I remember my Dad taking me to the dam when I was about 6, and we could go anywhere.  I've walked around the bottom of the pencock where a turbine usually sits when it was apart for service!  The $6 tour wasn't half that cool.  Cameras were not allowed.  I kept trying to imagine what it would be like going back to my old workplaces, but having to stay behind all the tour boundaries, and just look at things from the walkways.  At one point the tour guide asked if anyone had been under a dam before.  I LOLed.  I then had to explain that my Dad (indicating to the man next to me) worked here 25 years ago.  The rest of the tour group seemed very impressed and, although our tour guide did an excellent job, they sometimes looked at my Dad as if for verification if she stumbled at all during her spiel.

The church I grew up in recently had it's surfaces restored, and it looks like new, which is saying something because it was built in 1938.  I used to ring the bell on Sundays, and the rope could lift me off the ground.  I once froze my tongue to the doorknob of the front door.  I see they've replaced both the door and the door knob since then.  The surface of my tongue has since been replaced as well.

I had a crush on Tina when I was a kid.  She always wore dresses, which didn't seem practical to me for playing at recess.  She lived in a trailer at the top of a hill.  Apparently her parents are still there.  I rode by, and it's been very well maintained, but Tina's play house is gone.  I remember her dad's old Honda Shadow.  It had Honda motorcycle's wing logo on the tank, and I thought it looked way cooler than my Dad's CB550K because it was so new.  (Probably a 1982 instead of my Dad's 1974.)

I was playing in that ditch at the end of our old street one summer when I realized, as a 6 or 7 year old, that summers seemed like a different life from school.  How long were summers anyways?  When would I have to go back to school?

The road I was riding my bicycle on when I accidentally swallowed a bee (it flew right in my mouth!) is actually gone now.  I guess that'll stop it from happening again.

We caught an old hockey teammate of my father's as he was heading out fishing with the son of another former teammate.  I used to go to school with their daughter, and would go over to their place to play.  She lives in New Zealand now, and her parents are hoping to buy a home there soon too.

They want to finally leave Hudson's Hope because a third dam, "Site C", has been given the go ahead.  Site C will flood the beautiful Peace Valley, covering hundreds of square kilometers of valley, including homes and farms.  It will also create hundreds (thousands?) of jobs, and will provide a large amount of clean electricity.  I can see both sides of the issues, but was surprised to see so many signs of opposition in an area largely built on the existence of two other dams.

Finally, it was wonderful to spend some time with you, S and A.  Thank you for the steak dinner, including my first corn on the cob of the year, and for helpful tips for our trip north.  I look forward to getting those old pictures of St. Peter's, and to seeing some of those sunrises you've photographed from your porch overlooking the Peace River.  What a view you have!

Remember for your next trip back East, I'm one day's drive from New Brunswick - the perfect place to stop for the night on your way through.