I never worked at Dumont Press Graphix nor did I know anyone who did, prior to my first random encounter. as I explain later. I was merely a student in Mohawk College Journalism who wanted to take a bud fishing in my ‘hood.
So a warm spring day in 1972 found myself and Michael, my English prof/bud/house companion driving the back roads of Glenelg Township, looking for an access to the Rocky Saugeen River. This area of rocky rolling hills and cedar bush, about halfway between the town of Durham and the port of Owen Sound, was where I grew up. I thought I remembered a fine spot from times fishing with my grandfather. Grandfather Jim had spent his life on the Rocky, tending a hydro powerhouse that fed Durham, and later in life, just fishing his retirement upstream on the same river.
However, on that afternoon, the location of that particular sweet spot continued to evade my memory. I nudged Michael in the passenger seat. "Maybe these folks can help out," I muttered, as we rolled to a stop alongside two easy ambling bodies, all with plenty hair and akin to peers, I figured.
"Not sure of what river access you are looking for," was the cheery reply, "but come up to our house and you can fish the river from the back of our place." So we did just that, which is how we first met Gary and Elaine.
Up at the mint green farmhouse we encountered times much more interesting than fishing, as it were. Not sure which came first, the home brew or home grown. Whichever, it did spur on conversations that seeded some lasting relationships for me, in particular with Gary whom I had just met on the road, and with Elaine as well.
As I recall, at the house we met Michael, Phil, Penny, Rosco, Joannie, Marty, Bowden (I think, though his name was spelled Bowdoin) several dogs, a horse and two goats. Eventually, I too came to live at the farm, which was known as Markdale, after a nearby village. I was there for the summer season, before embarking on a western road adventure with Corli, Moo and Janice Lee.
Thus began my acquaintance with Dumont Press and its extended family. As a student of journalism at Mohawk College, I had very little introduction to the various community and social activism print media, the likes of which Dumont Press published. I do know that I was impressed with Dumont’s role in what journalism could become, outside the scope of the daily papers I had worked on. I do recall some folks’ names, but not all I had met during my brief year between the farm and Kitchener/Waterloo.
As my attention and interests shifted to a more community-active type of journalism, I landed a job with the Chesley Enterprise. Bill, the publisher, had come out of Cape Breton originally, and educated me on life on the east coast. The west coast with its rugged beauty had proven to be too expensive and overwhelming for this rural
Ontario guy.
As I have already mentioned, those were heady times. The encounters with what Dumont Press was able to do helped to reset my thinking of my future in journalism. Not long after, I answered to the opportunity to work on a national award-winning weekly paper, the Eastern Graphic of Montague PEI. Led by the fearless Scotsman Jim MacNeil, it seemed to embody the voice of a community. Today, it is still afloat under the steerage of Jim’s son Paul, as capable and fearless as his father I believe. The Eastern Graphic continues as a respected active weekly on PEI.
Time would eventually find all these Dumont folk, farm friends and acquaintances scattered across the country east to west. I recall a trip to PEI by Gary Robins and Ken Epps in 1975 doing a history of community and alternative newspapers across Canada. They had unearthed the early ‘70s story of an Island activist paper called The Broad Axe, borrowed from a turn of the century paper of same name. Its motto banner read “Hew to the line and let the chips fall where they may”.
The Eastern Graphic under fearless Jim operated much the same. He would come to annually publish the earnings of every civic employee on the Island... public info but it did raise hell. We loved those days.
I did eventually get lured away from journalism and into renewable energy construction... spawned by Pierre Trudeau’s federal Liberal dollars. As a reaction to rising oil prices of the early ‘80s and his particular belief in renewable resources, it did seem that the social activism of the ‘70s was going to sprout real change here on PEI. But that, my friends, is another story.
After nearly 30 years here on PEI, I relocated back to my part of Ontario for a fifteen-year stint running Bikeface Cycling bike shop, first in Durham and then Owen Sound. One day in the shop I get a call from Gary... calling from the same road where we had first met… nearby the old Glenelg farmhouse. Another mint moment, I thought.
My partner Patty and I retired from the shop in December 2019 and moved back to PEI just ahead of the COVID crisis. These days, with plans for a Regina or anywhere else trip in virtual suspension, I have lots of time to reflect and ponder the road from Glenelg to here, and all those folks I try to keep close. Be well friends.