by Joyce Carlson More than once I have stopped in front of a small house on Oak Street. My father, Bill, was born in that house and attended the original Henderson School just up the street. His older brother David lived his entire life in Townsite, two of his houses being on different blocks on Maple Avenue and his final home on Marine Avenue.
My father left school in grade eight and started driving the delivery truck for Powell Stores. Bill was a dashing looking young man and a favourite with the ladies. After serving in the army in World War II, he returned to his delivery job and met my mom who had come from Saskatoon to help her sister look after her two young children.
I was born in the old Powell River General Hospital, which no longer exists. Years later I met a beautiful blonde woman named Joyce who worked in a jewellery store in the Rodmay Hotel. I believe she and my father were in love at one time and I was named after her.
Three vivid memories remain from my early childhood experiences at the company store. There was a large glass showcase that was full of crinolines—blue, pink, green yellow and even rainbow. Even though I was not a girly-girl, I loved looking at them.
I also remember sitting in the chairs, dangling my legs, waiting to try on new shoes.
Upstairs, where the groceries were located, was a lunch counter that I sat at with my dad, enjoying a special treat.
Twice I lived with my aunt and uncle when my mom was institutionalized in Vancouver with what was then called a nervous breakdown and is now known as bipolar disorder. They already had four children of their own and took in my three-year-old brother, my newborn baby brother and me.
My grandmother died before I was born and as a widower, my grandfather was manager of Walnut Lodge where single men lived who worked in the mill. On the door was a sign that read “Authorized Personnel Only.” With a cheeky bounce to my step, I would open the door and walk right in because I was “authorized.”
Our family lived in Cranberry and every Saturday morning, I would walk down to Patricia Theatre with money for the show, a chocolate bar and a drink.
In my early teens, I walked home with Townsite friends suffering from burning throats from the smell of sulfur. Changing technology eliminated that.
My husband Don and I bought our first house that was moved into Westview to make room for new Townsite construction.
We attended dances at Dwight Hall with music by local bands including the Playmates. More dancing took place at the Cellar Nightclub, Lovey’s place in the Elks’ building and Rodmay Hotel pub where I saw my first, but not last, male stripper.
It’s good to see Townsite businesses and residents producing a new energy in an old part of the community.
Joyce Carlson has had many connections to Townsite over her lifetime and enjoys making new ones.
