Louise Moses

Others have chronicled the ways of the red canoes and the contributions of Dick Lewis in words and phrases as beautiful as the ways of those red canoes themselves. As each story builds upon the next, one theme that runs joyfully through these recognitions is that Dick is and has been a connector; a connector of his Wabun family to Robin and hers, a connector of Wabun’s traditions to the joinder of women in the ways of those red canoes; a connector of parents to the new world that Wabun has unfolded for their children. These connections enhance everything about the mission of Wabun and make our own participation in it all the more heartwarming and fulfilling.

My own family’s participation at Wabun began in 1943 when Dr. Jeff was sent off as a 13 year-old to some camp in Northern Ontario – the last spot available anywhere – because of continuing bad news from the front. That quirk of fate began a life-long connection between Wabun and my family. My brother and I had both been campers and staff at Wabun and were proud to send our children there –following the tradition of so many other Wabun families. The beach gatherings on Garden Island in August were as much a part of our family fabric as the Thanksgiving or Christmas gatherings.

It was the summer of 2004, and I had two daughters in Wabun red canoes. I was following their every movement both on the website but also in my mind’s eye as I imagined them winding their way through the creekwork down to Thieving Bear or maybe even stopping for a hot lunch (Heaven forbid!) in Dougherty, a favorite spot. Those imaginings awaken the marvelous pull of Wabun that flows through all of us, a pull that is never really diminished. How does the song go? “Where the young get strong, and the old ones long to return again some day . . .“ Yes; that’s it.

I happened to be standing next to Dick on the beach that morning as my second daughter paddled into the scurrying excitement of the beach landing. Whether it was the pull of the red canoes themselves or a reaction to some other fatherly emotion, I leaned in to Dick’s shoulder and said: “I think I need to do this again.” It was merely a spontaneous comment on my part, but without even a moment’s hesitation, Dick leaned back and said: “Let’s make it happen.” We then went about our affairs, and the next summer I found myself with Charlie Minor and a marvelous group of boys on the Section B Coulonge River.

I wonder now how this may all have come across to him. After all, I was soon to be 50 years old. The notion of bringing someone back who was likely to be a generation ahead of his assistant staff, the return of an old-timer who had not sat in the stern of a Wabun canoe for 25 years; well, the idea seems a bit of a stretch to say the least. There were certainly the Bill Olmsteads, the Nibbys, the Petes, and other older Wabunites who had been staffing on Garden Island for years, but I imagine that there must have been a certain leap of faith on Dick’s part, not necessarily in me per se, but in the idea of promoting yet another connection – this time connecting the past with the present and future – just as he had done in so many other ways. I recall arriving for pre-season at Garden Island and grabbing a canoe from the dining room to take out to the ballfield for painting. Genesee Keevil, who was staffing the Bay Trip that summer, smiled at me as I carried the canoe and good naturedly asked what I was doing there. In reality, what she meant was: ‘what on Earth are you doing here?’ Her face, when I told her I’d be staffing the B boys, conveyed all that must have been going through Dick’s mind as he facilitated this connection from past to present. Really?? Yes, really.

When Dick welcomed me a short while thereafter, he greeted me with open arms and some sage words of advice. It was the kind of moment that Julie describes when Dick offered his hand across the train tracks. The message was: “I’m proud to have helped make this happen; now it’s your turn.” And as he has done in so many other circumstances, Dick then sat back to let it all happen. 

There is a fine line between following the urge to lead by one’s own individual directing and instead choosing patience with what one has built and trusting in the result. Dick has exemplified all that the latter can mean. His legacy is built upon that very foundation. Since that time, it has been my pleasure to watch as other Wabun veterans have followed the success Dick offered me and also returned to help carry the traditions of the past into the present and the future. That blend of experience with younger excitement sustains what Dick has envisioned as a program thoroughly connected with its environment, its traditions, its peoples, and its spirit.

Connections matter, Dick Lewis. Thank you for opening so many connections to so many of us. We are all the better for it.

– Andy