Rand Collins

Rand Collins has resurfaced, hale, happy and hearty. He has three domiciles, two on Vancouver Island. You can give him at call at (250) 709-9616 in Duncan.

Rod MacKenzie's Memorial Program

Here is the program handed out at Mr. MacKenzie's memorial service.


front
left
right

reflections

I'm back home at 1 AM from the reunion. I'm exhausted.

I was very tired all during the reunion which made me tend to keep my interactions short. I was more into listening and admiring from a distance. We are such a fine accomplished bunch of people. At times I wanted to cry with happiness that I had been blessed with such friends.

I was happy to hear the noise level rise and rise, and see everyone looking actively included.

The highlight for me was Miss Rowell's appearance. I was not expecting her since I received no response from my invitation. (Turned out I sent it to the wrong address.) She positively glowed. I felt energised in her presence.

Tara Sends Her Regrets

So sorry I haven't replied before: we were on holiday up
north and just got back last night. I am not sure if I can
come to the reunion as we are scheduled to leave town again
Thursday. To come, I'd have to fly home and then back; I'd
like to come, but so far I can't tell if it's really
realistic. If I come I'd be delighted to bring stuff,
especially a nice big potato salad, but can't promise in
case I'd end up letting you down by not being able to turn
up. Well, if I come I'll bring potato salad.

Love you guys, and thank you for pulling this one together.
Tara

Gordon Dunnet checks in

My computer email/ internet connection got broke at the end of June- the day before Diane & I left for 3 weeks in Northern England. I wasn't able to confirm the B&B reservations but the trip was great and we weren't kicked out of any of the B&Bs. (Visited York, North York Moors, Yorkshire Dales and Northumberland- highlights Fountains Abbey, York Train Museum, gardens, Roman ruins and the pub meals. Found restaurants very expensive)

Unfortunately, I'll be away to August 15th so won't attend the reunion.

News since our last reunion in 2002?

-My mother has progressing Alzheimers- about 7 years so far. She still recognizes me but hasn't spoken in over 2 years. She is in the Kiwanis Care Home in North Van and the level of care has steadily declined thanks to our wonderful Campbell Government.

-I appear to be 2 years closer to retirement and have taken up pottery. I've progressed greatly from my first introduction in Art 12 with Mr. Lane- already tried the wheel!. Its great fun.

Hope to see you at the next reunion.

Gordon Dunnet, P.Eng.

Don Fockler's adventures in Vanuatu

Many of you already know, to some this is new news - we have
now finished our second stint on Tanna and have flown back
to Comox, Canada. To let everybody know, I am sending a
'group' e-mail. I know it is not terribly personal. I would,
however, love to hear back from any one of you, and would
certainly reply back with an individual e-mail. Our leaving
was a big transition - straddling two very different
cultures, two very different life styles. It was much more
emotional this time leaving all our friends and coworkers
that we had been together with for the previous 6 months.

Departing through the opened door

June 19 arrived, the day that I had arranged with Bosen to
meet him at the village where we had previously attended the
Niel.

Alec had already travelled the road twice previously, to the
Nakamel at Ianewaua, to give his thanks and say his goodbyes
to Bosun as we would be leaving soon.]

Bosun had come to the village with a contingent of his
people. As is custom, the chief and people of the village
were also involved. I was honoured with a welcoming dance,
put on by Bosen and his contingent and the villagers.
Following this, the chief gave me a welcoming speech to
which I answered with thanks that he had opened the door to
my son and myself and gave him my respect and support for
his world and his traditions and the health of himself and
his people.

Nipau, a man knowledgeable in the preparation of kastom leaf
gave me a small gift of kumala and taro and some oranges and
a chicken. I gave him my appreciation and discussed the path
of western medicine and kastom medicine that walk the path
of health together and contribute to the health that is
possible.

It was now time to begin the journey. I was clothed in an
old pair of shorts only - no footwear, no shirt. I carried a
small woven bag - it contained a couple of knives I had
brought as gifts and a shirt in case the night was too cold.

I filled the bag up with some of the oranges, picked up the
kava root and set off. Bosen and I were accompanied by a few
other men and a small contingent of boys ranging in age from
four or five to mid teens. One of the four year olds carried
the chicken I had been given. All the men and boys were
dressed only in nambas except the youngest, who hadn't yet
been circumcised, so was still naked.

We stopped briefly at the nakamel at Ikonala and then the
nakamel at Iannatum, and then arived at the nakamel at
Ianoloul. We would stay here for the night. I was welcomed
with a welcome dance. This time, I was to partake in the
dance -rhythmic chanting, hand clapping and foot stomping.
Giving me welcome. Following the dancing, chief Naswei was
approached. I presented the knives and kava as gifts, and he
spoke regarding the newly opened door, giving his permission
for my presence both now and any time in the future. I gave
my respect and thanks for this generosity.

The great dirt floor of the nakamel was surrounded by the
traditional banyan trees - some roots had been trained
horizontal when younger, and now became seats. At one end,
beside the kava preparation area, stood a leaf house - a
thick grass roof and split bamboo walls - a visitor's
sleeping house and a shelter if it rained.

A few pigs grunted in the background, an occasional dove
cooed, parakeets screeches periodically burst through the
canopy above. Children's play sounds emanated from the
village just below. Menfolk talked in groups upon the
nakamel. In the village, women and children went about their
day - women preparing food, children playing around, infants
cradled on the breast. Chickens scratched the earth, dogs
lolled.

Bosen and I walked up to the last nakamel before the sacred
inner sanctuary of the island. While we talked, a dozen kids
used the nakamel as a soccer field and kicked a black palm
ball, made from the heart wood of the tree fern. Nipau, the
leaf man was there and talked about leaf treatment - teas
for headache or constipation or fever. Cuts along the flank
for release of fever. Different men knew different leaf
treatments for the same symptom, so if one didn't work,
another man could be consulted.

The haunting sounds of conch shells being blown from the
valley below permeated the air. The sound of the conch
indicated that a circumcision party was bathing in the river
below - warning all women to stay away and not set eyes upon
them. Bosen suggested a visit, so down the twisting jungle
path we went, down, down, to the river below. The
circumcision party was busy. Eleven four and five year olds
had been circumcised five days previously. Bamboo had been
used to make the dorsal slit and pare off the excess
foreskin. Twice a day, the party descended to the river to
bathe. The newly circumcised children had water poured upon
them - conch shells filled and emptied on their penises.
Water poured upon their heads. Stoically accepting. Then a
leaf was wrapped around their penises and tied in place. I
was surprised to see Iatta, the aid post worker from
Iounanen there. Infection had sometimes been a problem in
the past, so he had merged the west with kastom and given
each newly circumcised child an injection of penicillin
today. Following their bath, we ascended with the party up
the opposite ridge. On the outskirts of the nakamel, they
had erected a special sleeping house for the circumcised
children. Above each bed was hung the foreskin wrapped in
leaf. This would be buried at the completion of the time.
The sleep house had fires for warmth. The elders cradled the
youngsters at night for comfort.

At mealtimes, the newly circumcised children were not
allowed to sit and not allowed to touch food. Each stood in
an individual stall that had been erected and the older boys
would hand feed each on as was kastom. They would spend two
to three months completing the initiation of the newly
circumcised.

We were invited to drink kava on the nakamel, but Bosen
explained the difficulty of travelling back to Ianoloul in
the dark with me, so he received a root of kava and we
descended down another path down to the river and back up
the other side to Ianoloul.

Ianoloul has a sacred canoe for kava. I watched kava root
being cleaned and cut and chewed and deposited in the canoe.
after adding water, a special grass sieve was used to sieve
out the particulate matter. Following custom, every man took
his kava filled shell out onto the nakamel, faced the canoe,
downed the kava, then let out a mighty expectoration and
then resettled around the fire.

One man had been attending to the cooking of the food to be
eaten after the kava. While he was cooking the food, one of
the boys brought him a large green grasshopper. He speared
this on a stick, roasted it in the fire and ate it. The
repast was a soup of taro and island cabbage, and some baked
taro and baked kumala.

As is customary, after drinking kava, the communication was
now carried out at a whispered lever because of the sensory
accentuation that results. Soon after, the men of the
village went down to their village houses. Bosen and I and
the other people from other villages, went into the sleeping
house by the nakamel. A fire was going inside, mats were
layed out, a sheet was produced for Bosen and me. More food
arrived - soup with shu shute leaves and kumala and more
roast taro. Having eaten our fill, we soon settled.

The night was cool. The cicadas pulsed on and off. The next
morning, the fire was resuscitated - it was six o'clock, six
men - dressed only in nambas were sitting around the fire in
the sleeping house. Breakfast appeared - baked taro, a fried
yam pancake. More soup. After breakfast, a good bye dance
was given for my departure.

We set out - walked north - down to the creek in the valley,
then up the other side to Yenapaus - Bosen's village.
Bosen's wife and two other women were weaving mats on the
nakamel floor. Greetings occurred, a welcome dance was given
by a group of men and boys, hand shaking, a few gifts were
given to me - a woven basket, a woven mat, a chicken, a
piece of sugar cane and a kava root.

It was now time to depart.

Brief though the time, it is difficult not to have imbibed
an essence, an energy, a force. The feeling of the
interaction between then and now for me, the outside
presence, but more truly - it is the present. How do you say
good bye to the present? Or is it just another stop on the
road of continuity. Interfacing, interbeing. The clear focus
of living birth and death, being present for each day, be it
through the bright sparkling dark eyes of a child, or the
wizened twinkle of an octogenarian elder. The rhythm of
life, the seasons, the night and day, their kastom routines
and kastom dance.

The rhythm of illness and wellness. Back at the hospital
another 'good-bye' on the path. A lay for each of us.
Speeches of appreciation and thanks. We are all honoured
with gifts - an island dress, a special calico, a crown and
feather for Rebecca; a model dugout canoe for me; volcano
shirts for Alec and Joseph - but beyond the gifts, we are
honoured by the presence of connection and sharing and
togetherness, by an intensity of spirit, by a commonality so
much greater, so much more intense than any differences. The
going away party. The traditional kava. A grand feast of pig
and goat and beef and soup and rice and yam and taro.

Don

Mike Lane checks in

Hey everybody! Thanks for the invitation to the 40th reunion. I appreciate the work that you are all going to. Unfortunately I won't be able to make it due to other commitments, but I'll be thinking of you. Have a great time!

Website Changes

You will notice the email addresses are no longer clickable. I have turned them all
into graphics to deter automated spam harvesters. This process is called "munging".

See http://mindprod.com/jgloss/mung.html for more details.

You can do the same thing on your own website using the Masker tool at
http://mindprod.com/masker.html

Rod MacKenzie's Memorial, Impressions

This was one of the best days of my life. I am so glad I went.

Here is the blow by blow description. There is no way I can put into words the warmth and friendliness of the gathering. It just too bad you missed it.

The memorial was held in Point Grey Baptist church on tree-lined West 11th in Vancouver. The church lawn was manicured as was the shrubbery. The inside is done in light bare woods reminsecent of St. David's in West Van.

The skylights gave the illusion that one end of the church was open to the air, facing a rock wall.

The usher handed me a program:

The front had a photo of Rod MacKenzie http://mindprod.com/images/mackenziefront.jpg.
You can see the left page at http://mindprod.com/images/mackenzieleft.png
and the right at http://mindprod.com/images/mackenzieright.png

The church was comfortably full with about 150 people.

There were many relatives who looked like Miss Rowell, at various ages. The ones who looked most like her, were of course 40 years younger than she is now. Would the real Miss Rowell please stand up!

The service started with lugubrious organ music and a Christian sermon about life after death for the believers.

Then Rod's brother Murdo got up to speak. My first reaction was, "What's this, a joke? Has Rod come speak at his own funeral? Murdo looks much more like the way I remember Rod than the photo above does. However, he had a quite different voice. I was so startled by the ressemblance I did not hear a word he said.

Then Andrew MacKenzie spoke. He was about 18, had a London accent, with perhaps as touch of Aussie to it. He looked like a pro rugby player, a bit like a young Christopher Reeve. I thought perhaps he represented some rugby team Rod had coached. He sobbed and wiped his eyes. His voice broke. Soon the rest of the audience was too. He talked of his pappa. I was puzzled. Surely Rod could not have had a child so late in life. Who was the mother? Perhaps someone else died recently too. Then it gradually came clear he was talking about Rod, his grandfather. It was so touching. He missed his grandpa with the same purity of heart as would a four year old. The grandfather he described was much more relaxed and outgoing than the rather, stiff, reserved and shy principal I remembered.

Then David MacKenzie spoke, Rod's son. It still had not sunk in Rod must have children if he had grandchildren. I think I was still unconsciously running under the teenage delusion that principals never have sex. He spoke in cultured plummy British tones, reminiscent of an actor with roots at the Old Vic, perhaps Sir Ian McKellen or Christopher Plummer. He told stories of his dad building a house trying to transport the materials in a rowboat that almost sank. He was quiet, wistful, and dignified.

Kirk Potter told Rod volunteering each weekend getting up in the wee hours of the morning to catch the first ferry to Keats island to come help keep the camp in repair.

Then the minister announced Barry Rector would sing the lord's prayer. I could hear the operatic tenor, but I could not see who was singing. Then I figured it must be a man standing near the front with his back to the audience. When he finally turned around, I was astonshed, expecting to see some young tenor. This amazing sound had come from a senior citizen, a former music teacher.

Rod's youngest brother Norman spoke. He provided a more intimate glimpse of the rich life his father lead.

A young girl, Kellsey Antoniali, piped everyone out to the sounds of Amazing Grace.

I talked with Mr. Harry Cullis and Mr. Crittenden in the audience. Both were in fine fettle. I pumped them for stories of what had happened to all my beloved teachers. Mr. Cullis is more jolly than before, not quite dignified and intimidating. Mr. Critenden looked senatorial in his pinstripe suit and silver locks. Mr. MacIntyre waved from across the room. He looked almost unchanged.

Mr. Cullis went on to be principal of Sentinel, then superitendent of various districts.
I found out Mr. Kershaw is still going at 94. Mr. Busch is singing in a choir in North Van at 85. Mr. Mervyn died a few years ago in the Okanagan. Mr. Dahlie went on to become the head of the English department at the university of Calgary. Mr. Locke can still be found at every ballet and theatrical performance at the QE. Miss Barr died a number of years ago.
Mr. Chalmers died, then shortly after his wife died too of cancer. Mr. Wright (prinipal of Hillside) died a couple of years ago. Mr. Holt and Mr. Savary died. They lost track of Mr. Heron.


Mrs. MacKenzie was referred to by many names, Florence, Flo, aunt Flo, Mrs. MacKenzie, and of course Miss Rowell. She was radiant, in a tight fitting white dress with explosions of colour on it to show off her spectacular figure which I will comment on again later.
She looks great and she she was having a blast. She remembered me and seemed utterly bowled over with delight that I had showed up. When I told her about the scholarship she gave a slight gasp, as if I were telling her something too good to be true. It is pretty clear she and Rod had a wonderful loving, happy fun-filled life. The two of them really loosened up over the years.

At the reception I saw photos of Rod riding a camel, dressed up in costumes, snorkeling, travelling the world, putting his arm around a chimp. I saw Mrs. MacKenzie in a bikini, taken not that long ago. We kids were NEVER in a million years would have guessed what she was concealing behind her conservative clothes. I looked at photo after photo of Rod's famous smile, hamming it up with the grandkids.

Robbie Jones and Doug Winslow came, and we nostalgiaed. Tara did not make it called away to a wedding in Montreal.

The reception was perhaps best described as boisterous. Everyone was friendly, in a party atmosphere eager to find out who everyone else was.

As I talked with people I got a picture of Rod's life, especially his later years, as supremely successful. He kept himself busy helping others, and everyone loved and respected him. Even today's teenagers thought he was "cool". I felt a strong desire to emulate him. I tend to spend all my time thinking about world events, and forget how much can be done with love right under your nose.

Knowing that I would never likely see any of these people again was such sweet sorrow. I felt brimming over with graditude to have my life overlap Rod's loving circle for this day.

What Roedy (Munroe) is up to

I'm living in Victoria with Geneva. I'm still gay but celibate, mostly lack of interest.

Poverty is a major issue. I have been earning in the order of $600 a month. I am still very active on the internet, especially in the technical comp.lang.java.* newsgroups. My website takes up much of my time. I am overflowing with technical computer ideas without much business sense. See http://mindprod.com/projects/projects.html

Health because of HIV lurches along. I went on a drug holiday a month and a half ago, and my energy zoomed and all manner of nasty drug side effects went away. Now the HIV is getting an upper hand again and fatigue is overwhelming. In a few weeks, my HIV strains will at high enough viral load to be genetically tested to find optimal new drugs.

I have done a lot of appearances on local TV. See http://mindprod.com/speakerscorner.html for some of my little scripts.

An Italian company I thought was going to stiff me has come thorough, so I can afford to go to the memorial. I am really looking forward to seeing any of you grads and seeing the remaining teachers one last time. Perhaps I can arrange a ride out with someone from downtown Vancouver to the church. I'm not sure if it easily accessible by bus.

What the Madden twins have been up to these last 40 years.

Thanks for posting this, Roedy. Comments about Peter and my adventures?

For the past 18 years I have worked with two partners to develop what is probably the premier company in N. America for the design and manufacture of attachments for heavy equipment. Attachments are the work tools that mount on front end loaders, excavators, bulldozers, fork lifts, etc. We purchased another company 4 years ago that designs and manufactures winches, hoists, and gear products. We have operations or alliances in the Americas, India and Australia, all of which keeps me on the road a whole lot. BUT, it is time to consider other things of value in our lives, and we are now marketing our company. I have no wish to retire outright. I have too much fun doing what I do so a condition of any sale is another 5 years of employment under contract, but with lots of down time. We'll see in the next two months how that works out.

Peter has spent part of his working life working for my company. God forbid that Tara should read this, but he and IMAC have been involved locally with the fish farms on the West coast, manufacturing the pens. I would hasten to add that we have seen much improvement on the environmental side of this industry, and we both have some ideas for our "retirement" that should assist that industry to improve their handling of waste by-products.

It sure is hard to utter the word "retirement". It was only yesterday that we assembled in the great hall on Mathers Avenue for our graduation. Thank our lucky stars for an incredible education, with amazing teachers, and living in one of the most blessed countries on earth!

All for now. I hope everyone has a wonderful time at the reunion, and as I read through the names, I can "see" each and everyone.

Best Regards..../Christophir

Chris Mahden sends his regrets

Mr. Green! Mr. Mahden here. Good to "hear" your voice.

I will, unfortunately, be in S. America at the time of the re-union - for the second time in as many such events. For probably the last year I have been thinking about our time at W. Van. High and all the water that has flowed since then. I would really have enjoyed getting together with all the old class mates and swapping war stories, but, not to be.

Rod McCloy writes

Thanks for your emails. I am sorry to hear about Mr. MacKenzie's
passing. Unfortunately I will not be able to attend the service as we
will be out of town. I will send you some money through PayPal.com and
leave it to your good judgment as to whether it should be used for
flowers or scholarship.


I will attend the Reunion at Hugh's house on August 8. I will try to
think up something interesting to bring for food.

Time and Place of the Memorial, how to collact Florence Mackenzie

Rod MacKenzie's Memorial Service is at 2pm on the 26th of June, 2004.

Mrs. MacKenzie's phone # is 604-731-2086.

Anne Kan
Church Secretary
West Point Grey Baptist Church
4509 West 11th Avenue
Vancouver, BC

a note from Russ Precious about his mom

Thanks for the update.

This past weekend my mother passed away peacefully and gracefully after a
very full and rich (nearly) 90 years. She had just told me about Rod this
week. You may not know, but she had stayed close with Rod and Florence all
these years having worked very closely with them at WVSS.

I'll be working down south during Rod's service, but will be in touch with
Florence.

We will be holding a very simple family/friends gathering on the afternoon
of July 10th for my mother in North Vancouver at a friends home as per her
request and then a family gathering at the end of the month at our farm in
Nelson where she always wanted her ashes to be placed.

For anyone who would like to join us on the 10th, please RSVP at 604 531
1908 or email me at 'precious@netidea.com'.

Hope you are both well and I look forward to catching up!


r u s s e l l

Wendy Davis (Yeo) wants to contact Florence

Wendy Davis (Yeo) says:

I was very sorry to hear of Mr. MacKenzie's death. I'm glad that he and Florence enjoyed many happy years together. Do either of you have her address? I would like to send her a note. I won't be able to make it over to the memorial service but would like to contact Florence with my condolences.
Wendy (Yeo)

Address and Time of Rod MacKenzie Memorial

Name: West Point Grey Baptist Church
Address: 4509 West 11th Avenue
Vancouver, BC V6R 2M5
Phone: 604-228-9747

Fax: 604-228-0936
E-mail: office@wpgbc.org
Website: www.wpgbc.org

time: 2 PM

Where's George Lea?

geolea@hotmail.com George Lea's mail has bounced. see if anyone can contact him.

Mike Lane writes

Mike Lane writes:
Thanks for the note, Very Sorry to hear of Rod MacKenzie's death. Condolences to Florence

Barb Archer writes

Barb Archer writes:
I'm sorry to hear that Mr. Mackenzie died. It was neat that they led such an interesting life. He truly was a kind man.
I'll be in a workshop that weekend, if you could get Florence Rowell's e-mail address perhaps we could send her some words of support.
My new e-mail is bjarcher@telus.net.

I, like Tara, was wondering if we were going to try and get together this year sometime r maybe we're going to wait until our 50th year. Or as so often happens someone has to step up to the plate and get organizing.
Barb

Rod MacKenzie Scholarship Fund

Tara and Rand thought it would be a good idea to start a Rod MacKenzie scholarship fund at West Van High. What do you think?

Students today have so much tougher time than we did financially. I got through my university debt free without help from my parents. That would be impossible today.

Contributions for flowers

If you want to contribute some flowers for Mr. MacKenzie's funeral from the 1964 Accelerated grad class, you can pass the money on to me via PayPal.com. Send to the the email address displayed at http://mindprod.com/images/mailtoroedy.png.

The funeral is on the 26th, so please get your contribution here by the 24th if you want to participate.

Principal Rod MacKenzie's Memorial Service

Tara Cullis asked me to pass this on.

I would like to get the word out the Rod MacKenzie has died. As you probably know, he and Miss Rowell got married 25 years ago and had a very happy life together. Poor Florence was vacationing with Rod in Portugal when he turned to her while they were resting, said I have had a wonderful time on this trip and I love you very much, and died. She arrived alone with his ashes last Sunday, and there will be a memorial June 26 at the West Point Grey Baptist Church.

I cannot be there as I will have to be at a wedding in Montreal, but I would like to let everyone know so that some will go to the memorial.

He was a very kind and decent man, and he remembered all of us with enormous fondness. And he led a very good school. And Florence would be enormously supported if some of us showed up.

By the way, any word on any 40th reunion? Is Hugh really hosting something? And when is the "full school reunion" anyway, that it's supposed to be tied to.

Hope you're both well. Let me know!

Love, Tara.
taracullis@hotmail.com

Where's Norma, Dick and Scott?

Norma (Corker) McNellie's knmcneillie@shaw.ca email is bouncing. Does anyone have
a new email address for her.

Ditto Dick Humphreys dick.humphries@mercer.com

and Scott Lawrence slawrance@shaw.ca

Rand Collins checks in

Rand Collins wrote:

Thank you both for letting me know about Mr. MacKenzie. I am very sad to hear that this happened- particularly after everything Florence has been through. I'd like to come up, but am not certain that I can. I'll let you know.


It was good to hear from you. I'm presently working with a pathology group in southwestern Washington. Janie retired from Abbott three years ago. Our daughter Shannon was married about 1 1/2 years ago, and Justin is getting married Labor Day weekend a
t an outdoor chapel in the mountains north of Denver. I'd very much like to see everybody, so keep me posted regarding any reunions. If I can't come, is there a fund we can contribute to, or can we send flowers?

40th Reunion

The 40th reunion will be on Sunday 2004 August 8 at Hugh Maddin's place.
See http://mindprod.com/reunion.html for details.

Munroe vs Roedy

People might wonder about my "new" name. I was always Roedy at home and to my non-school friends. When I was about 21 I started using my nickame more widely, partly in response to frat boys teasing me about the name. I wanted to show I was not ashamed of it. Not to worry, I answer to both names. It even sounds funny to me to hear some people call me Roedy because that I am used to them calling me Munroe. You can call me whichever name you feel more comfortable with.

impressions of 38th reunion

Just got back from the reunion. I am still floating. Even from just getting to talk to each of you for just a few minutes was enough to rekindle my old warm feelings. I forgot how much I missed everyone.