Sitting in the bright, large, cozy living room of Humteya Shirley Toman and Kiyowil Bob Baker, faces of generations encircle us.
The couple's walls are lined with photos of their children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, parents and grandparents.
It is like a smiling audience watching over them every day.
Baker, 89, is in his recliner watching the news on TV.
Toman, who turns 81 on Oct. 1, dressed all in pink head-to-toe, including pink polka-dot sneakers, is having her morning toast.
Baker gets up and opens a cabinet full of more photos organized in dozens of photo albums.
The Squamish Chief sat down with the Sḵwx̱wú7mesh Úxwumixw (Squamish Nation) Elders for a wide-ranging chat in their Stawamus home, which is steps from the shores of where the Stawamus River and Mamquam Blind Channel meet. The neighbour’s dog, Cooper, looks through the front door and greets the four people who stopped by to visit this morning.
Baker and Toman explain who is in the photo albums as we flip through them and talk.
"That is Dr. [LaVerne] Kindree there," Baker says, pointing at a photo.
Toman chimes in, "He never treated us any different than anybody else. He was a real humanitarian, that guy."
What follows is an edited version of the rest of our conversation.
Your house is so beautiful. When did you move in here?
Baker: I built it myself. I don't know when. I think the dinosaurs were still here.
Toman: He's a builder, a contractor. He built a lot of houses on the reserve. We have been here 35 or 36 years, and he built it before that.
And how long have you both been in Squamish?
Toman: I was born and raised here.
Baker: I was born in Capilano, and when my mother died, I moved up here to live with my grandmother in Brackendale.
You both have seen so much change since you were kids in Squamish. What do you make of all the changes to town?
Toman: Oh my gosh, I just can't believe it. You just go around the corner there's another building. I can remember that it was trees and fields and, you know, beautiful landscapes and everything was just so gorgeous. Now it's all covered with houses.
Baker: You know how you see hitching posts, like in Western movies? That is what they used to have here.
My grandmother made me get a dog, and her brother, Chief Joe Mathias, had some pups there. So they gave me one, and they trained it to follow me wherever I went. When I went up the river, there were always cougars and bears, and the dog would chase them away.
Toman: And they had wooden sidewalks downtown because it was so muddy. You couldn't walk very long before you get stuck. And the horses would be around. You never got scared of them. We just said, "Get out of the way."
What stores did you shop at here back in the day?
Toman: There was one big store, Mackenzie's Department Store. They had everything in there. You could go in and buy furniture, hardware — everything.
Baker: And there was only one doctor's office, and he came once a month. And the policeman only came when you needed him. We knew him, Walter Gill.
He enjoyed it up here. He used to go fishing up the river, with Moses.
Toman: Yes, he used to go fishing with my grandfather, Moses Billy.
Baker: And you know where Thor [Froslev] lived, at the Brackendale Art Gallery? Below that, there was a field there with fences all around it. The trains would stop there and put cows out and give them a rest before putting them back in the railway cars on the trip to Vancouver.
When did you two meet?
Toman: He came up to renovate my home — he was a contractor. I was in my house up on Mamquam — my kids live there now.
We never really got married, but we have been together for 30 years.
Baker: She came to visit me, and I don't know when she is going home. Ha ha.
What is your advice for young people about making a good, healthy life?
Baker: In our day, we had to go out in the bush and get our food. That is healthy. You had to go into the river canoeing. We were always doing something. We knew when every year and in every river when the fish would come.
We would catch the fish down here and then go by the river back to Brackendale, where we lived.
You said you have a Queen story, Bob?
Baker: We went to see her in 1939. I was just a little guy. I will always remember it. We lived in this house that had a hole to the outside, and there were bees in there. I used to go and look through it and wait until the bee was in there and then run. But this time, the damn bee got me, and my right ear was all swollen when King George VI and Queen Elizabeth went by on Marine Drive, on what used to be the dividing line between North and West Vancouver.
The Queen and King were supposed to stop and see my great-grandmother, Lixwelut, Mary Agnes Capilano.
You should have seen it. We had all these dancers and Chiefs on Marine Drive. They came from all over. The feathers were flying from their [headdresses], I remember that.
And we were on the side. My grandmother had a weaved chair she was sitting on, and I was standing up — with my swollen ear — because there was no more room.
But the King and Queen didn't stop for us like they were supposed to. They went right by. [The Royals were supposed to stop the motorcade and receive gifts from the gathered leaders after crossing the new Lions Gate Bridge but did not.]
You both have talked openly and publicly about the racism and abuses you suffered, including in residential school (Baker attended St. Michael’s in Alert Bay. Toman attended St. Paul’s in North Vancouver). And yet, you're both so beautiful and welcoming and positive. Why and how is that?
Toman: You know, we have to survive, especially for our children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren. We have to get over that animosity that we had for policies that happened. We have to concentrate on the best we can survive on. We can't survive on hate and mistrust, and anger. Some can, but not me.
It is wonderful that you keep telling so many stories. We all learn from them.
Toman: Residential school did a lot of damage to the whole family — the whole community — when they took away all our culture and our traditions and even our arts and crafts that we used to do. They took too much, especially from the males in our families. They were being told what to do. They were not making decisions for us anymore. They were being treated like — us, you know? They kept taking things away from us, and it seemed like it was all too much. Because of that, that is where all the alcohol and drugs came in and did more damage to our families. We survived, mind you, but most of the time, our children had to suffer for it too.
Baker: I am probably one of the only survivors from my day at residential school. They are all gone. They ask me to tell the history of our people, and I say, "They are all up in that graveyard. That is where your history is. They are all gone."
Video: Toman and Baker, along with Baker's sister Chésha7 Gwen Harry told their stories of residential school in a Squamish Public Library event last year to mark the first National Day for Truth and Reconciliation, held Sept. 30.
"About a local" is a regular column featuring interesting Squamish residents. Have an idea of someone we should write about? Let us know with an email to [email protected].
