Mike McCardell - Haunting British Columbia - Ghostly Tales from the Past

Haunting British Columbia

Haunting British Columbia

Ghostly Tales from the Past

Mike McCardell

Copyright 2021 Mike McCardell

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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without prior permission of the publisher or, in the case of photocopying or other reprographic copying, a licence from Access Copyright, .

Harbour Publishing Co. Ltd.

P.O. Box 219, Madeira Park, BC, V0N 2H0

www.harbourpublishing.com

Cover image by Nick Didlick

Edited by Pam Robertson

Text design by Roger Handling

Printed and bound in Canada

Harbour Publishing acknowledges the support of the Canada Council for the Arts, the Government of Canada, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council.

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

Title: Haunting British Columbia : ghostly tales from the past / Mike McCardell.

Names: McCardell, Mike, 1944- author.

Identifiers: Canadiana (print) 2021029244X | Canadiana (ebook) 20210292458 | ISBN 9781550179552 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781550179569 (EPUB)

Subjects: LCSH: British ColumbiaHistoryAnecdotes.

Classification: LCC FC3811.8 .M33 2021 | DDC 971.1dc23 Cataloguing data available from Library and Archives Canada

ISBN 9781550179552 (cloth)

ISBN 9781550179569 (ebook)

It is hard, and it is easy, to say thank you.

Hard because there are so many. Easy because they deserve more than just thanks.

A while ago I went to CTV News after a long time somewhere else. I was an outsider. I was, still am, older.

They could have stood back and let me come and go, pass by, without getting involved.

Instead, all of them were good and patient and encouraging. More than in words, they were welcoming. If you have ever gone into a new place and not gotten welcomed you know what this means.

From the news director to the producers, the writers, the impossible-to-do job of coordinating cameras and assignmentswhich would destroy a weak personto the directors and anchors and web writers and assignment editors and engineers and audio technicians and security. And people who do things where I do not know what they are doing, and the reporters, and those who turn tiny microchips into big pictures, and the fellow who fixes the computerswhich is like on-the-job open heart surgeryand those who clean the bathrooms. Thank you. But there are too many names.

However, two groups hold me and guide me and help me every day. The camera folks and the editors. I live not only by their work but their dedicationwhich is a big wordtheir caring when they say, One more picture or You can say something better than that. The photographers and editors who you never see are the pilots in the life raft of every story every day, including those who were here and are no longer here because of the cruelty of budget cuts. Without them no story. Too many names, not nearly enough ink to say thank you.

This is for you.

Introductions are supposed to introduce you to something, or someone. But you probably already know me, at least I hope you do.

I revealed my secret life in the book Haunting Vancouver a few years ago.

I am a ghost. I lived long ago in BC, and I am still around now. Please dont say you dont believe in ghosts because if I wasnt real how could I be typing this, with a coffee cup alongside, telling you I am real? Thats all the proof I can offer.

So I am a true-to-life ghost.

In the earlier book I told you about the headliners of the early city, the ones you grew up hearing about and I lived with: Gassy Jack (bad reputation now but he sold beer and gave birth, accidently, to Vancouver), Joe Fortes (did not own a restaurant but saved lives, which is better than cooking steaks), Emily Carr (who if she saw the Emily Carr University of Art and Design would say, Whaaatt? How did that happen?).

Now lets turn to some of the others I met during my eternity in this province, which almost became an American state. It was saved by a guy who was good and bad and big and small, like most of us. Lets start with him.

Sorry, I took a nap.

It is nice when you are dead and get tired. No one notices when you slip away. And the best part of being dead and coming back to life and then sleeping is you dont have to get up and pee.

That used to ruin my sleep. No more. Just sleep.

So I was telling you about things in the past. That is called History. That is the best subject of all. But it is one they ruin in school.

King Whatever, and War Wherever. How about a story? Like just tell a story about something that happened or some nutcaseexcuse me, lovable nutcasewho did something and changed everything.

Let us do that. Right now. There will not be a test at the end, so if you want to sleep I wont mind.

I met you, you met me, choose either one, a few books ago. The title was Haunting Vancouver: A Nearly True History of Vancouver. The publisher added that word Nearly, like he did not believe I was real. I wanted to tell him to get real, but then I am a ghostif he does not believe I am me, I cannot change that.

However, I am real. If I was not, how could I possibly have told you the inside scoop of what really happened with some wild characters who made Vancouver?

As for me, if you really do not know, I was a combat engineer, a Sapper, one of the fellows sent in 1858 by Queen Victoria to help settle this land, and mostly to keep it out of the hands of America. We succeeded with both of those. There were 160 of us, who could dig and shoot, survey and march, draw blueprints for a town or plan a battle. We were the Royal Engineers, and we could do anything.

By the way, Vickie was one of my favourite people. I got to see her briefly before we sailed away. But one really annoying trait of hers was she ate like a, well, I cannot use an animal comparison but she ate like a commoner.

She would gobble her food as fast as it was put in front of her. That was fine if she was eating alone or with Prince Albert, who she really, really loved. It was a sad ending when he died.

But back to eating. When she had a royal dinner with guests sitting at a long table, well, those poor guests. Vickie of course would be served first and as soon as the plate hit the table her fork would hit the meat.

Gobble, gobble. She would finish before her guests were all served. The ones who did get food in front of them and maybe got a bite to their mouth were lucky because when the Queen put down her fork dinner was over. Everyones fork had to be down.

Other than that she was sweet. But talking about eating, her son, who became Edward VII, was a super glutton. He ate so much he could not fit inside his jackets and his bottom button always had to be undone. That is the reason men still today do not button the bottom button on their jackets. We are all so easily influenced.