Memories of Fred Fairweather, Friend.
I met Fred in January, 1948 when I arrived from Nelson, my home town. We were in Grade 9 in the “old school”, from which we moved to the “new School” (AKA “Taj Mahal”) the next year. The major event of 1948 was the record flood after the May 24th holiday, caused by an above-average snowpack and a cool spring, followed by warm rain, bringing the whole lot down in a few days. The river occupied the entire breadth of the lower basin from Okanagan Lake to the Columbia River, flooding all the pasture lands and many homes between. In the process it cut the highway near McIntyre Bluff and filled the Southern Okanagan Lands Project irrigation ditch, causing my step-father, Major Hodsdon, head of the SOLP, to organize a “hands-on” crew to restore irrigation to the orchards all the way to the border.
Fred possessed a remarkable talent for music, particularly the piano, but he played the tuba in the school band. Via the piano he could express his feelings and share his love for the music and sensitivity of expression of the composer. Even “guys” in the class could recognize Fred’s talent and were grateful for his too-rare sessions of playing for us. His wit was usually prefaced by a subdued smile, followed by a soft remark right “on point” – and often at his expense, then followed by a hearty chuckle.
When he allowed himself to get involved, he had real athletic talent, in particular for soccer, and (sometimes) for golf. We golfed after school on Fridays in Grade 12 on the nine-hole Oliver Golf Club track (sagebrush removed, bunch grass remaining, oiled sand greens) where Fred employed mainly his favorite 5-iron – maybe even on the greens. I recall once during a game with Fred seeing snake “tamers” walking back from the rock scree above the current 4th hole with sacks heavy with rattlesnakes, shot while still in the winter den, both to reduce the danger to orchard workers and to supply venom for cultivation of serum. Not always fun and games: the apple crop in 1950 was so heavy that senior-year students with good grades were allowed time off to pick. I worked with Fred on his home orchard for about a week, and remember still the treats that his mother produced for morning and afternoon breaks. Fred was President of the Student’s Council that year, but found time to play his usual role in the band.
After graduation, we headed to UBC and a room together at Acadia Camp, which comprised a cluster of used military bunkhouses from Sea Island. But first we had to register EARLY the first day, since we had been advised strongly to get in, by any legal means, to the Math 101 class of Dean (later President) Walter Gage. So Fred’s parents added me to the visiting crew staying the previous night with their family in New Westminster. We arose about 4 am, drove to the campus and joined the line outside the Armory, where all registration took place. We were about 50th in the line when we arrived, but missed the charge towards the main door about 7:30 – they were supposed to open at 8 – ending about numbers 180-181. Once through the doors we saw only a mess of queues before various topics; luckily, “Math 101” was still open and WE MADE IT into Dean Gage’s section. Several more stops, somewhat protracted by choosing some lines based on their length, rather than their precedence in the “system” – not posted for clarity – we staggered out into the day in search of Acadia Camp, and FOOD (none since 4:30 am!). Only a mile to Acadia, but we felt like members of Chairman Mao’s Army by the time we reached it. Bed clothes in hand we found Hut 34, Room 12, our den, and collapsed. Good/bad news: it was next to the john and shower, meaning it was convenient, but also we knew ALL the secrets of our hutmates. More secrets revealed due to the walls consisting of 3-ply plywood; we could hear a sneeze from 4 rooms away.
Our first day of classes began at 8:30, but in different courses, so we met in Dean Gage’s 9:30 Math 101 class. I found Fred sitting next to the aisle, but in a full row, so I sat across the aisle from him. Class began with Dean Gage striding to the front and scanning us for a vulnerable/suitable/lost figure. I was it; he strode to me and asked my name and home town, then went to Fred. Finding him from Oliver also he asked “Do you know this fellow?” in his heartiest manner. Several such good-natured exchanges before he went to the front and began reading out names and memorizing faces – another of his specialties. He called out “Meagher” (pronounced “MEEGER”) and then pronounced me a “Meagre fellow” after I raised my hand. When I corrected him after class he apologized and made a point of correcting himself to the class at the start of the Wednesday session – our next. Our early start for registration paid off; Dean Gage was a remarkable teacher, even making me enjoy math to the point that I enrolled in another course the next year!
Regrettably, UBC and Fred did not connect well and he left at Christmas, starting a long period when we connected occasionally. Fred joined the bank in Oliver, then moved to Burns Lake (I think). We connected again in Victoria during a summer session Fred spent in teacher training about 1960 or ’61, after which I was in Toronto for 6 years. During that time he taught in Glanford School, not far from my mother’s house, so he visited her occasionally. A colleague there was Mildred Reburn, wife of Mr. Bill Reburn, who had taught woodworking in Oliver while my mother was on staff there. Until her death several years ago, Mildred was our neighbour in Victoria. While at Glanford, Fred started a choir that he took to a performance in the Empress Hotel – not a common venue for only an elementary choir! Despite his many years in Creston, we managed to visit Fred only a few times, usually on the way through during field work trips or holiday. But we stayed in touch via Christmas letters and occasional telephone chats, mostly initiated by me. So it was good news when Fred arrived in Osoyoos and felt liberated from so many responsibilities.
Fred, Ted Tackas and I organized the first reunion of the Class of 1951 – after 50 years, held in the “hotel” in Osoyoos. We met the morning of the event for coffee to compare notes after several telephone chats and E-mails, then decided we should see the site. Arriving at the hotel, managed by one of Ted’s friends, we learned that the hotel had been sold that day, and the cook had quit! Furthermore, there was a duplication of bookings, so we could not hold our event on the deck as agreed, but in an adjacent room (in July!). All worked out well, since there were so many stories to tell and acquaintances to renew after 50 years that trivial issues such as food and space could not ruin our fun. I tried to prompt Fred and some other locals to hold another class reunion in a later year, but no one seemed inspired. Fred did mention a trip to Kelowna for a “medical procedure” but did not elaborate, and was guarded when I rang him after the trip. Sadly, he passed away prior to our 55th reunion. Another example of a man who was self-effacing and respectful of others’ privacy.
The world has benefited from this man who was talented, committed and generous with his time.
It was a privilege and a pleasure to have such a friend for nearly sixty years.
Michael Meagher
666 Jones Terrace
Victoria V8Z 2L7