Copyright
Copyright James Bartleman, 2016
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, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise (except for brief passages for purposes of review) without the prior permission of Dundurn Press. Permission to photocopy should be requested from Access Copyright.
Editor: Michael Carroll
Design: Laura Boyle
Cover design: Laura Boyle
Cover image: Andrew Stawicki, Photosensitive
Epub Design: Carmen Giraudy
Excerpts from the following publications have been printed with permission:
As Long as the Rivers Flow by James Bartleman. Copyright 2011 James Bartleman. Reprinted by permission of Alfred A. Knopf Canada, a division of Penguin Random House Canada Limited.
On Six Continents: A Life in Canadas Foreign Service, 19662002 by James Bartleman. Copyright 2004 James Bartleman. Reprinted by permission of McClelland & Stewart, a division of Penguin Random House Canada Limited.
Out of Muskoka by James Bartleman. Copyright 2004 James Bartleman. Reprinted by permission of Penumbra Press.
Raisin Wine: A Boyhood in a Different Muskoka by James Bartleman. Copyright 2007 James Bartleman. Reprinted by permission of McClelland & Stewart, a division of Penguin Random House Canada Limited.
Rollercoaster: My Hectic Years as Jean Chrtiens Diplomatic Advisor, 19941998 by James Bartleman. Copyright 2005 James Bartleman. Reprinted by permission of McClelland & Stewart, a division of Penguin Random House Canada Limited.
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Bartleman, James, 1939-, author
Seasons of hope : memoirs of Ontarios first Aboriginal Lieutenant Governor / James Bartleman.
Includes index.
Issued in print and electronic formats.
ISBN 978-1-4597-3306-0 (paperback).--ISBN 978-1-4597-3307-7 (pdf).--ISBN 978-1-4597-3308-4 (epub)
1. Bartleman, James, 1939-. 2. Lieutenant governors--Ontario--Biography. 3. Ambassadors--Canada--Biography. 4. Chippewas of Mnjikaning First Nation--Biography. I. Title.
FC636.B37A3 2016 971.064092 C2015-908471-7 C2015-908472-5
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J. Kirk Howard, President
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Dedication
For Marie-Jeanne, Anne-Pascale, Laurent, Alain, Sebastien, Nicholas, Henry, Marie-Anne, Thomas, and future generations. And to the selfless donors who have supported Frontier College since 2005 in running Summer of Hope Literacy Camps in up to 100 First Nations across Canada, spreading the love of reading and books to cumulative totals of some 40,000 children and youth, 10,000 involved parents and community members, and 1,500 Indigenous and non-Indigenous camp counsellors, as well as distributing close to 200,000 books to the children.
Epigraph
You cant know what a life has been until it is over.
Andr Alexis, Fifteen Dogs
Preface
T his memoir is a book of stories. Drawn from all four seasons of my life, some are brief vignettes, others are based on diary entries and family trees, and still others are full-fledged accounts of developments that shaped the latter part of the twentieth century. Some are stories of coming of age, adventure, encounters with great men and women, accomplishment, and failure. Others bear witness to Third World misery, First World wealth, international terrorism, great loss of life, civil war, heroism, cynicism, generosity, and meanness. Necessarily selective for reasons of space, they extend back more than seventy years, tracing my unlikely journey from a tent in the Muskoka village of Port Carling in the 1940s to the vice-regal suite as Ontarios twenty-seventh lieutenant governor at Queens Park a half century later and beyond.
They demonstrate that my life, like those of everyone else, was largely shaped by chance. If I hadnt lived for a time near a dump with a supply of comic books, learned to read at an early age, and met a benefactor who sent me to university, perhaps I would never have left the village where I was raised. If I hadnt sought shelter from the cold in St. Pauls Cathedral in London on December 6, 1964, and listened to a sermon by Reverend Martin Luther King, maybe I wouldnt have been inspired to write the exams to join the Foreign Service. If I hadnt taken an early-morning flight in the spring of 1974 from Brussels to Vienna on North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) business, I wouldnt have met my wife and the mother of our three children and five grandchildren. If I hadnt become foreign-policy adviser to newly elected Prime Minister Jean Chrtien in 1994, he wouldnt have appointed me Ontarios lieutenant governor in 2002. And if I hadnt become lieutenant governor, I wouldnt have been able to finish my career giving back to society by establishing libraries in Indigenous-run schools across the province, a book club for 5,000 Indigenous children, creative-writing awards, and most important of all, summer reading camps for marginalized Indigenous children in Northern Ontario.
James Bartleman
Perth, Ontario
November 5, 2015
Part One
Muskoka: 19461966
The Indian Village of Obagawanung, now Port Carling, consisted of some twenty log huts, beautifully situated on the Indian River and Silver Lake with a good deal of cleared land about it used as garden plots, and the Indians grew potatoes, Indian corn, and other vegetable products. They had no domestic animals but dogs and no boats but numerous birch bark canoes.
The fall on the River there, being the outlet of Lake Rosseau, was about eight feet, and fish and game were very plentiful. When Mr. Hart and I were encamped there, Musquedo brought us potatoes and corn and we gave him pork and tobacco in return.
Vernon B. Wadsworth Reminiscences of Indians in Muskoka and Haliburton, 186064
1
Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town
O ne quiet Sunday afternoon in June 1946 a truck delivered my mother, brother, two sisters, and me, together with rucksacks and an assortment of pots and pans, to a tent near the village dump in the small Muskoka village of Port Carling. Bob was eight, I was six, Janet was four, and Mary just two months. My father was white and my mother Indian, a distinction we children never noticed. Always having had a roof over our heads and plenty to eat, we didnt know our family was dirt-poor and at the bottom of the social scale. All of this would change when school started in the fall.
My father greeted us with a large, welcoming smile. He had come to Port Carling a month earlier to visit his Indian father-in-law, who lived at the small Indian reserve known locally as the Indian Camp, and had decided to stay at least for a while. His ambition was to go north to look for work near an Ojibwa reserve on Georgian Bay where my mother had relatives. In the interim he had found work shovelling gravel and loading rock on trucks by hand for a local trucker for 60 cents an hour. Not being Indian, he wasnt allowed to remain with his father-in-law at the Indian Camp, so he constructed a rough shelter from rusty pieces of corrugated iron at the village dump, and saved his money until he could buy a tent and send for his wife and children.