Par for the course

Dad made many life-long friends in the RCAF. One such chum was Arthur Allenby Elliott. Like Dad, Art was a prairie farm boy with a keen sense of humour. The two stayed in touch, and visited occasionally.

Murray Fraser visited Art and his family in Meadow Lake, Saskatchewan

Like many of Dad's contemporaries, Art applauded Dad's good health and wished he was as active. In a letter dated September 2, 1996, Art wrote, "I haven't been dancing for ages -- but I am glad you still can. I don't think my lungs would be up to it. I did think of taking up golf, in a mild way, but after a few efforts to drive, I put it down again. My back wouldn't stand the torsion."

Art went on to explain, however, that his golf efforts did "inspire me to concoct the enclosed version of the experience (with perhaps some slight variations.) This is a sort of 'first draft' that I am thinking over with the intention of trying to get one of the local editors to include it in his paper, with the hope that it will inspire others of our generation to try this noble sport."

We'll never know if his story was ever published, but I present it below to ensure it reaches an audience of sorts beyond Meadow Lake, Saskatchewan.

Golf and Me

The game of golf has long had a fascination for me but, until recently, participation has remained but a dream. Part of the obstacle was financial, part the distance from the nearest golf course.

Recently all this changed. I was at a church fair and suddenly before me I saw the answer to my dream. There was a large box of used golf-balls priced at ten cents each -- just within my budget reach. With plans whirling in my head, I hurriedly purchased fifteen of the tempting little fellows and looked around for something to hit them with. On the next table I saw two of what I was looking for but on closer examination I realized that I had almost made a terrible mistake. They were evidently errors that had been turned out by a factory on a Friday or Monday -- the hitting place on them was on the wrong side! One would have to stand on the left side of the ball, which was ridiculous.

While I was standing there trying to conceal my disappointment, a friend who was a golfer happened by. I explained my problem to him and he said he thought he could help. He promptly disappeared for a bit and came back with a long handled stick with a blob of wood on the end of it. He said it was one that he didn't need anymore and would lend it to me for my experiment. He also gave me some of the little plastic toad-stool things to hold the ball while I hit it. Since the hitting place on the stick was on the right side I accepted, with gratitude.

At home again, I began to put the rest of my plan into operation. Since I was so far from a regular playing field I had decided that what I needed was to build a private "links" as I believe they are sometimes called. There far from prying eyes and interference I would practise and hone my skills so that, when I did play in public for the first time, no one would know that I had not been playing all my life!

Close to my house, since I live in the country, there is a seldom-used cow pasture, that I decided was ideal for my purpose. With the help of a few empty vegetable tins and some of the numerous gopher holes that were present I had soon constructed my course. Of course there was no proper "fairway" but I had ingeniously arranged it so that the many well-worn cow paths would serve very well -- a bit narrow but the better to improve my skills. There were no water-hazards (you can see that I have done considerable reading about the game) and of course no bunkers but the latter would be served very well by the numerous gopher and badger holes that I had not used to bury my cans. Since the place was a cow-pasture, my fairways were well supplied with "hazards" of a different type.

Now, at last, I could begin my golfing career. I set up one of the little toad-stool things, placed the ball upon it and, "keeping-my-head-down" of course, I hit the first ball! Now, although everything I had read or heard about golf had emphasized "keeping your head down," nowhere had anyone said for how long. When we were children we had played a game called "hide-and-go-seek" in which you kept your head down and counted to one hundred while everyone else ran and hid. I supposed this was somewhat the same so I kept it down for a count of five -- playing by myself, counting to one hundred seemed to be a bit of a time-waster. By now of course the ball had disappeared and, try as I might, I could not find it, mostly because I had no idea which direction it had gone. I tried twice more, once with a count of three and once with a count of one, but to no avail. So there I was: three balls of my fifteen gone and nothing accomplished.

After considerable thought I tried again but whether it was the thriftiness of my Scottish ancestors or just my own human weakness that prevailed, I have to confess, with some shame, that I began to cheat! Oh I still kept my head down but I peeked out of the corner of my eye. My conscience bothered me, it is true, but I must say that things went a little better after that.

"Play the ball where it lies" has a much different meaning in a pasture than on a regular golf-course, I should imagine. However rules are rules and I am given to understand that failure to do this involves dropping a new ball and incurring a "penalty." Most times I was able, with some difficulty in some cases, to abide by this rule but eventually the worst happened and I was faced with a seemingly impossible shot. Here I discovered that my ball had come to rest on the edge of a crow's nest, at least fifteen feet off the ground, in a black poplar tree. You can imagine the difficulty here: first to get to the nest; then to wedge oneself into shooting position, ever mindful that a slip could bring you painfully athwart a branch, with possible injury to the little birds (to say nothing of the more tender parts of one's own humanity) and lastly, to manage the shot without harming the three small birds or the one unhatched egg. In the meantime one is under attack by the parents, who totally misunderstood the mission.

With some pride I can say that the shot was accomplished, although that one little crow with the bent beak will probably be a staunch disciple of the principle "keep your head down" for the rest of his life. Unfortunately the ball, while landing beautifully on the fairway, promptly encountered a hazard that was very much this side of "dry." Not only was it unplayable, it was bordering on the unapproachable! With the help of a couple of small twigs I was able to coax the offender into a nearby hole and bury it.

Now came the matter of dropping a new ball and assessing myself a penalty. After considerable deep thought I decided that I would make myself eat my cereal for two mornings without cream! After all I should think the purpose of a penalty is to remind you to be more careful next time and, since I absolutely loathe cereal with skim milk, I am sure this will have the desired effect.

All in all, I am not discouraged by these few set-backs; in fact quite the opposite. My score, at first, hovered in the high forties; even into the fifties. However it has been steadily coming down and yesterday I even (as we golfers say) "shot a twenty-three." This being the case, I have absolutely resolved, if my score remains below twenty-five for the rest of this week, that, beginning next week, I am going to tackle the second hole!

Art Elliott

Meadow Lake, Saskatchewan

September 2, 1996

 -*-*-*-

As was often the case, Dad outlived his old friend. Art passed away in 2007. His obituary published in the Saskatoon StarPhoenix reads as follows: 

ARTHUR ALLENBY ELLIOTT

July 26th, 1918 July 13th, 2007 Arthur Elliott passed away suddenly at the Royal University Hospital. Arthur was born in Bounty, SK and raised at Wartime, SK. Art served with the R.C.A.F. in W.W. II., then returned to farm at Wartime and Meadow Lake. He subsequently moved on to maintaining aircraft, working in Prince Alberta and Victoria before retiring at Meadow Lake and Saskatoon. He is fondly remembered by his children, Terry (Sylvia) of Meadow Lake, SK; Bob (Micheline, deceased) of Ottawa; Peggy (Bill) Graham of Black Creek, BC, Barb (John) Gorst of Prince George, BC, Mary (Don) Conard of Sidney, BC, and stepdaughter, Cheryl (Willie) Chopty of Chemainus, BC; 17 grandchildren and 24 great grandchildren. Arthur was predeceased by his first wife, Evelyn Jean and his second wife, Gene Mae; brother, Willard; sister, Norma and grand-daughter, Bonnie Gorst; stepson, Gordon Hemsley. Arthur enjoyed a full and active life, participating and supporting community activities, in particular Boy Scouts. He was an avid reader, enjoying wood carving, writing and exploring. His family and friends will especially remember his sense of humour, his inquisitive analysis of events and activities and his creative stories and verse. A Memorial service will be held on Wednesday, July 18th at 2:00 p.m. at Caleb Manor at Emmanuel Village (1622 Acadia Drive). A following service will be held on Thursday, July 19th at 2:00 p.m. at the Grace United Church in Meadow Lake (502-6th Avenue West). Inurnment will take place at Meadow Lake, SK. In place of flowers, memorial donations may be made to the charity of choice. Arrangements in care of Kurtis J. Rae MOURNING GLORY FUNERAL SERVICES at (978-5200).

Unsung hero

May 21 -- another Victoria Day long weekend. A time to put your feet up, relax, and pour yourself a tall cool one. But Sunday, May 21, 2000 was not the time to do that if you were David Patterson, a public health inspector in Walkerton, Ontario. Far from it.

David Patterson (Nov. 2, 1950 -- Jan. 10, 2003) was the son of Dad's cousin Mary, whose mother, Kate Walpole, was Annie (Reid) Fraser's closest sister.

David was also the unsung hero of Walkerton, as explained in a tribute by Allison Lawlor, in The Globe and Mail, February 7, 2003. That obituary is copied below:


David Patterson 1950-2003

The unsung hero of Walkerton

The public-health inspector issued a boil-water advisory and personally drove samples to a distant lab as the crisis unfolded.

David Patterson at the O'Connor hearing: His meticulous record-keeping provided a valuable source of information for the inquiry into the tainted-water scandal.
[Photo by Tibor Kelley, The Globe and Mail]

David Patterson, the public-health inspector who sounded the alarm in Walkerton, Ont., where seven people died of E. coli poisoning in May, 2000, has died. He was 52.

He died of rare complications related to rheumatoid arthritis, said his wife, Sharon Patterson.

"He was extremely dedicated. I feel he gave his life to public health for 33 years," said Jim Paton, the Grey Bruce Health Unit's director of health protection and Mr. Patterson's long-time colleague and friend. Mr. Patterson worked at the health unit for 30 years. He retired just a few months after the E. coli tragedy hit the Western Ontario town.

"He has been described as the unsung hero of Walkerton," Mr. Paton said.

Walkerton is in the heart of "Reid" country.

When a worried local doctor alerted him about cases of diarrhea in people from Walkerton, Mr. Patterson launched the initial investigation to determine the cause of the illness.

Although he initially suspected a problem with bad food, the common source for E. coli infections, Mr. Patterson also called the manager of the municipal water supply and asked if there were any problems with the water. The manager, Stan Koebel, repeatedly assured him that the town's drinking water was fine.

As the illness spread through the community, Mr. Patterson became convinced that the municipal water supply was the only plausible source of the infection.

He quickly wrote out a boil-water advisory for the town on the afternoon of May 21, 2000, the Sunday of the Victoria Day weekend. The advisory, urging residents to boil their tap water, was not lifted until Dec. 5, 2000.

Later on May 21, Mr. Patterson and his wife drove 21 samples of Walkerton water to a laboratory in London, Ont., arriving after midnight. On their trip home, in the dead of night, they almost hit a deer.

Tests confirmed that the municipal water system was contaminated with E. coli and fecal coliform bacteria.

"It was just astounding what that man did," said Dr. Murray McQuigge, the former medical officer of health at the Bruce-Grey-Owen Sound Health Unit, who left the health unit in March, 2002. (The health unit changed its name in 2001.)

In addition to the seven people who died from the E. coli infection, 2,500 people in Walkerton became ill, some seriously.

"I believe he did the very best he could have under the circumstances," Bruce Davidson of the group Concerned Walkerton Citizens said.

Mr. Patterson confronted Mr. Koebel to find out what had gone wrong. The details of how Walkerton's water became contaminated with E. coli were revealed at a public inquiry that opened in the town in October, 2000, five months after the contamination came to light.

"When Mr. Koebel learned from test results for the samples collected on May 15 that there was a high level of contamination in the system, he did not disclose the results to the health officials in the Bruce-Grey-Owen Sound Health Unit who were investigating the outbreak of illnesses in the community. Instead, he misled them by assuring them that the water was safe," Mr. Justice Dennis O'Connor wrote in Part 1 of his report of the Walkerton inquiry.

Mr. Patterson's meticulous record-keeping and detailing of the events around the tragedy proved to be a valuable source of information at the inquiry. In the first weekend that the water crisis unfolded, he compiled close to 80 pages of notes, documenting the times and contents of each conversation he had, Mr. Paton said.

While Mr. Patterson was scheduled to take early retirement in the fall of 2000, he remained with the health unit on contract to help with the exhaustive inquiry. Taking the stand at the inquiry was emotionally difficult for Mr. Patterson, particularly when lawyers tried to attack his credibility.

"He was a gentleman during the inquiry," Dr. McQuigge said, adding that his colleague often had to bite his tongue.

A quiet and private person, Mr. Patterson didn't seek the spotlight and said little to the news media during and after the inquiry.

"Walkerton took its toll on everybody," Dr. McQuigge said. "It was tremendously taxing."

David's parents, Fred and Mary Patterson, celebrating their 50th anniversary, August 26, 1994

David Patterson was born on Nov. 2, 1950, in Owen Sound, Ont. He was the second of four children to Fred and Mary Patterson. He was raised in the small community of Tara, south of Owen Sound, where he also raised his family. His father owned a business installing tile drainage for local farmers. As a teenager, Mr. Patterson worked with his father during the summers.

It was as a young teen that he developed his lifelong hobby of restoring old cars to mint condition; most of them were 1932-34 Fords. He enjoyed taking his cars out to local fairs and other events and last fall chauffeured his daughter to her wedding in one.

After graduating from Chesley District High School, he attended Ryerson Polytechnical Institute in Toronto, where he studied public-health inspection. He graduated in 1970, and the same year passed the tests to become a certified public-health inspector. That year, he also married his high-school sweetheart Sharon. They had two children.

Mr. Patterson started work at the age of 19 at the health unit in Owen Sound, where he worked the length of his public-health career.

He began as a public-health inspector and was promoted to a supervisory position first in 1982 and then in 1989, when he became assistant director of health protection with the Bruce-Grey-Owen Sound Health Unit.

In the mid-1990s, Mr. Patterson and the health unit were involved in a high-profile court case in which they took a local farmer to court for selling unpasteurized milk. Mr. Patterson couldn't stand the thought that people could be put at undue risk for drinking the unpasteurized milk, Dr. McQuigge said.

"This [public health] was his calling," Dr. McQuigge said. "He was passionate about it."

After the Walkerton inquiry wrapped up, Mr. Patterson left the health unit and went to work for the local conservation authority reviewing people's applications for government grants to improve their water systems.

Mr. Patterson preferred life in small-town Ontario to that in the big city. He enjoyed the outdoors and fequently went on canoeing, hiking and hunting trips with his family.

"He felt strongly about protecting the outdoors," said Sharon, his wife. "He was just a very dedicated person -- he really believed in things."

Mr. Patterson leaves his wife, son Michael, daughter April and his parents.

David Patterson and his sisters Lynn, Bonnie Jean, and Heather, August 26, 1994

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A Wikipedia article summarizes what went wrong in Walkerton:

At the time of the event in May 2000, Stan Koebel was utilities manager for Walkerton, and his brother Frank Koebel was water foreman. Neither had any formal training in this position, retaining their jobs through three decades of on-the-job experience. The water supply, drawn from groundwater, became contaminated with the highly dangerous O157:H7 strain of E. coli bacteria. This contamination was due to farm runoff into an adjacent water well that had been known for years to be vulnerable to groundwater contamination.

Starting May 13, 2000, many people of the community of about 5,000 people began to experience bloody diarrhea, gastrointestinal infections and other symptoms of E. coli infection. For days the Walkerton Public Utilities Commission insisted the water supply was "OK" despite being in possession of laboratory tests that had found evidence of contamination. On 21 May, an escalation in the number of patients with similar symptoms finally spurred a boil-water advisory, warning residents not to drink the tapwater.

The people who died directly from drinking the E. coli-contaminated water might have been saved if the Walkerton Public Utilities Commission had admitted to contaminated water sooner, and about 2,500 became ill. 

During the time of the tragedy, both Stan and Frank Koebel denied any wrongdoing and firmly held that the water at Walkerton was safe to drink. However, as the tragedy grew in severity the two were eventually part of the criminal investigation into the tragedy, and, as a result, both would eventually plead guilty to a charge of common nuisance through a plea bargain. In their plea, they admitted to falsifying reports and Frank admitted to drinking on the job, as a beer fridge did exist at the facility.

They were both formally sentenced on December 21, 2004, with Stan receiving one year in jail and Frank Koebel nine months of house arrest. 

Stan Koebel, left, with his brother, Frank
[Photo by Kevin Frayer, Canadian Press]

A more detailed account of the perfect storm that was Walkerton can be found at: https://soapboxie.com/social-issues/The-Walkerton-Incident.