Norm Zigarlick, contd.
I've had a twisted interest in politics ever since Joe ‘Who’ Clark won the Conservative race in 1976. I had a flu and had nothing better to do than watch the convention on TV; we only had one channel. At the outset I didn’t have a clue who these guys were and I didn’t care who won. Then I started cheering for the underdog and was happy as hell when he won, not because of his policies, just because he wasn’t supposed to. Years later I got to meet Mr. Clark, a guy who was much bigger than I expected. I found him to be very genuine and likeable. Nice guys do finish first sometimes, they just don’t get to stay there. Don is someone I met about 50 years ago he was an arrogant, belligerent kid in his early teens. His vocabulary was limited and most of his sentences started with a crude word that started with the sixth letter of the alphabet. When he got a little bit older he changed, he got worse. Drinking, fighting and insults were a way of life for him He always earned good money and kept none of it. There were only a few people in his life that mattered to him, at the top of the list was his mother and below that his sisters and brothers. When he was sixteen, not a bookie in the world would have given you even odds on him living to age twenty. Those of us that knew him also knew that if he was going to survive it was only going to be because he was incredibly intelligent. It wasn’t because of his education, he left school before he could spell education. Somehow he made it. He went quiet for a while I hadn’t seen him in quite a while then one day he showed up at my door wanting to charter an airplane to go caribou hunting. Don is from Cree roots, this was in the NWT which has primarily a Dene population and as legend has it, they are traditional enemies. One of the reasons for the hunt was that he had married a Dene girl. In her town he wanted to get caribou meat for himself and to share the rest with elders in the community. He wanted to “make his bones” and gain acceptance. It went well and when the meat was being distributed was when I met Gladys. From then until now, there is not a thing about this small town northern girl that has ever been out of place. This was ‘opposites attract’ taken to the extreme. She was and still is attractive, highly intelligent, organized, well-spoken and soft spoken. My first impression was how the hell did this happen? Over the years Don flew with me quite often and, as the age gap became less important, we became trusted friends. He and Gladys started a family and a family business; they made a living building log homes, trucking and general contracting. Don, always the dreamer; 26 dialogue
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Gladys, always the anchor. 12 years after his caribou hunt event, Don phoned me early one morning and asked to meet. He knew I had a skitterish interest in politics; he simply, without any real lead-in, asked me if I thought he would make a decent MLA. I couldn’t see why not he certainly was more likeable than most politicians I had met until then and when he laughed I knew he meant it. I was once told nobody can fake a smile or a real laugh, watch for that. He ran for office and won. I got to play a small role in the campaign. A few years later he did it again and won again and then next time round he became the Premier of the NWT. Politics is an ugly business and in the NWT where there is no party politics at the territorial level, it really is every man for himself. Through thick and thin, Gladys stuck it out – and there was plenty of thick swamp and thin popularity. She did this while raising four boys that had fairly even genetic distribution. In other words, half the time the behavior was - ummm - interesting. Gladys went from a small town that defines the word ‘remote’ and right up to visiting world capitals as part of a government contingent. She dined with the Chrétiens and hung out with Colleen Klein, when her husband Ralph was the best known and most popular premier in the country. I got to watch all of this unfold. Never did Gladys ever let it go to her head. She too possesses that inner wisdom and humor that allows her to see the world with clarity I could only hope to have. She can go from dinner in Hong Kong to frying fish on Great Slave Lake and never have to change who she is. I`ve been to their home many times I was never treated any different from the time of the first caribou hunt until my last visit in Yellowknife a few years ago. It has always friendly, funny and a place where you slept well. I once travelled with them on Great Slave Lake when a wild summer storm blew in. We were on a 29 foot cabin cruiser. By time Don and Gladys collected the folks from a bunch of little boats not suitable for the weather, there were 17 of us on board for the night. There were four steaks and a few odds and ends for a BBQ the next day. That turned into a beef and potato soup for seventeen. No one even thought it was unusual including Gladys – who, three days later, was in Ottawa with Don to announce the go ahead of Canada`s first diamond mines. Don would be the first to tell you that without Gladys there probably would have been an early end to Don; his lifestyle was not sustainable. He would agree that it was her that kept his ideas under control (sometimes barely) and allowed them to prosper. She was the quintessential strong woman behind a strong man. She was his anchor www.dialogue.ca