Salmo

One December, a few years after I had graduated, Mr. Affleck and I were out looking into

creating a new water system for the village of Salmo, which is just south of Nelson. We were

walking with snowshoes on in probably four feet of snow and looking at this creek to see where

we could build the new system. We came to a weir. They needed to measure how much water

was flowing in the creek to see if it was enough to supply the Village of Salmo. I was walking

ahead, with Mr. Affleck behind me. Here I am, twenty-six years old or so. I was ahead, what we

call breaking trail and packing it out. And Mr. Affleck, at seventy-three years old, was naturally

behind me as he couldn’t walk as fast. It took me a few moments to register when he had

disappeared. He was nowhere to be seen.

I retraced my steps and found him in the creek. He was upside down, trying to turn himself over

with his one arm. It was twenty below zero. I managed to shovel a rough stairway to get down

and haul him out of the water. He was soaking and starting to freeze, but he stayed there long

enough to make sure that I measured the flow. He had fallen into the creek because he had seen

the perfect place to take the measurements. We then hiked out a mile and a half down to the

highway. Of course, he froze. He ended up in the hospital with pneumonia—really bad.

Shortly before Christmas, Mr. Affleck got word to me to come up to the hospital. He was very

sad. He said that he would have to lay me off. He did not know if he would ever be able to work

anymore on anything else. That was the end of my employment with him. The next day I applied

for a job and for unemployment insurance. I was married and we had bought a house and

everything else, and I really needed a job.

They were hard times. But I was soon hired to be the surveyor for building the Nelson Bridge.

That was the last of my business dealings with Mr. Affleck, who had been a superb employer

and a real role model for me.