Was the acclaimed British poet and playwright T.S. Eliot mistaken when he said “April is the cruelest month”?
Here on the “Wet Coast,” November could easily lay claim to that unflattering designation. And inevitably, amidst the unrelenting drumming of rain on rooftops, the weary mind gravitates to the construction of monuments.
Many towns and cities have immortalized community builders and other noteworthy individuals. For example, a memorial to David Oppenheimer, who was Vancouver’s second mayor, graces the entrance to Stanley Park.
Among his many accomplishments he is credited with setting up the city’s early infrastructure. And in that same park a statue of the celebrated Canadian sprinter Harry Jerome, in full stride, greets pedestrians walking along the seawall.
With that segue in mind, what’s stopping us from setting up similar commemorative installations in Squamish?
Several movers and shakers from our early resource-based economy are prime candidates, including John Drenka and Pat Brennan, the founders of Squamish Mills. Brennan was also a popular mayor who spearheaded the construction of the dike system which has shielded this town from being flooded.
There are certainly numerous other local contenders worthy of consideration, but at the risk of jumping the queue of notables why not look farther afield? How about the American chemist Robert Gore and the Swiss engineer George de Mestral?
Gore patented the water repellant, breathable membrane we know as Gore-Tex. Before the arrival of that miracle fabric, energetic open air devotees were susceptible to getting wet in a downpour or sodden from the sweat inside their clothing.
After extracting burdock burrs from his pants when he returned from a hunting trip in the Alps, De Mestral envisioned the nylon hook and loop fastening system, which came to be known as Velcro, a portmanteau of the French words velours and crochet. It has many applications, but is especially useful as a closure and weather seal mechanism sewn into garments to help shield wearers from the elements.
If it wasn’t for Gore and de Mestral’s ingenuity, hikers, climbers, skiers and running enthusiasts would end up cold and clammy instead of warm and dry in the self-declared outdoor adventure capital of Canada. In fact, any Gore-Tex clad citizen who braves a cloudburst to visit a java emporium, or just to pick up a loaf of bread, should be equally grateful.
And where would the bottom line be for our burgeoning athletic apparel sector without all that high-tech gear flying off shelves onto the awaiting torsos of happy customers?
That being said, a strong case can be made to commemorate the resourcefulness of a pair of individuals who have enhanced the lives of countless denizens of this rain soaked valley.
