March 2025

The Interview

While I was serving as the Museum Director at the Manitoba Museum of Man and Nature, I spent many pleasurable personal hours working on a book entitled; Mammals in North America: From Arctic Ocean to Tropical Rainforest. When it was published in 1986, Hyperion Press in Winnipeg arranged for me to appear on the CTV news program called Canada AM in Toronto, hosted by Norm Perry. While I had participated in hundreds of interviews previously, for print, radio and television media, this would be my first appearance on a nationally broadcast show.

I flew to Toronto and checked in at an expensive hotel, with a reservation arranged by CTV. The following morning I gladly accepted the offer of a sumptuous breakfast, and was then chauffeured to the station by a pre-paid limousine driver at 6:30 AM. Beginning to feel like a real VIP with all this special treatment, and with mounting excitement (i.e., nervousness), I was then ushered down hallways and into the make-up room. As I climbed up onto the chair, I glanced over to my left and who should be sitting there next to me, being applied with a copious layer of facial paste, was no other than Mr. Jean Chretien, who had served recently as Deputy Prime Minister for the ousted Liberal Party. Not wishing to interrupt his pre-interview mental preparation, I nodded politely as we made eye contact, leaned forward to accept an apron, and grudgingly submitted to the identical facial-plastering procedure. Ten minutes later, when I was handed a mirror, not a freckle nor wrinkle could be detected, and every hair on my head and eyebrows stood with perfect compliance with respect to the make-up artist’s version of what I should look like. As she waited for my appreciative reaction to her handiwork, I thought, who was that guy staring back at me? I concluded I had better not attempt a smile for risk of cracking my mask.

Mr. Chretien departed the room for his interview, and ten minutes later I was led to my position in the wings. As confident as ever, and with his characteristic accent, he was obviously accustomed to being queried on controversial subjects. I hoped I could respond as well to whatever question was going to arrive my way from the host. This was, after all, live television, hitting the network affiliates from coast to coast. Suddenly I had an unsettling flashback to a previous live CKY-TV interview in Winnipeg for an earlier book, when at the conclusion of the interview, the host sabotaged me by asking whether I experienced any conflict between the natural-science theme of the book and any religious beliefs I might have. Wow, we certainly had not discussed that hot topic beforehand. Back in the present, taking a deep breath, I tried to settle down and relax.

During the next advertisement, Mr. Chretien stood up and strolled past me, and I took up his former seat across the table from Mr. Perry. I happened to notice that the famous former guest’s chair was still warm, a veritable political hot seat. Thankfully, over the next five minutes, Mr. Perry asked me several legitimate questions about the book’s content and proposed audience, and I began to almost enjoy the experience. I was even able to take a few sips of coffee without spilling a drop from the special Canada AM mug (which I still have) set before me on the table. Time seemed to pass in slow motion, but soon it was time for the next scheduled commercial, and thanking and shaking hands with the host, my major public performance was over. What a relief. I was then escorted back to the make-up room where the multiple coatings of paste and powder were swabbed clean from my visage.

The Royal Ontario Museum had graciously agreed to host my book launch that evening, but when I left the station, I realized that a serious blizzard had descended on the city. With travel on the streets becoming risky, the unfortunate decision had to be made to cancel the evening affair. When I arrived home the next day, I was dismayed at the first question my wife asked me as I walked through the door. “Did you not realize you were sitting on a swivel chair?” Apparently, in my nervousness, I had swivelled back and forth repeatedly over the entire interview! Viewers must have pondered whether I was indecisive as to which profile was my best. Decades later, each time I open my kitchen cabinet and take out my gifted Canada AM coffee mug, the memories of my big interview day come flooding back. But honestly, I don’t remember swivelling.

Credit Where Due by Stephen Campbell

After reading this month's letter I find myself needing to write to you. I am proud of our school and our alumni association. I have seen a few too many people pass away. I fear that I should give credit where credit is due while I still can.

Thank You In Advance for All you do.

Stephen Campbell
Calgary, Alberta

This letter is long overdue. I was born in Verdun, Quebec. Our first trip across the newly built Champlain Bridge in 1962 changed my life forever. We bought a house and moved into that house in 1963.

Inevitably, I started school at Preville Elementary School and attended classes there until June 1967. During the month of September 1967 my continued education brought me to CCHS. It was an awkward transition. A large percentage of the school population had attended St. Lambert Elementary School and were familiar with each other already. As a group the class from Preville stood out but only for a while. That is why I am writing to you. Attending CCHS was a singular experience that changed my world forever. It changed my life. Some would venture to say that I would have felt that way about any high school.

CCHS was not just any high school. The classes were small and intimate. The educators seemed to be the educators in The South Shore Regional School Board. I may be prejudiced but I still hold that opinion. There was something unique about the school. Many generations had passed through its halls. Those graduates still lived in homes not far from the school grounds. There was a community that survived and progressed along the tree-lined streets stretching from Victoria to Tiffin. Attending CCHS meant that without realizing it, you had joined a sort of fraternity. There were no clandestine initiations or rituals but there was fraternal acceptance.

The support that resulted from being a part of that fraternity affected every aspect of our young and impressionable lives. After a very short period friendships were crafted. Maybe it was in a class or maybe it was being a member of one of the many teams. My favorite place to meet and make new friends was between the permanent building and the “portable” classrooms. I was a smoker and spent far too much time outside the windows of the boy’s shower room meeting and spending time with friends. The location of the school supported our habits because of a favored hangout. Most days there was a lineup outside Johnny’s Corner on Tiffin near Desaulniers where you could buy cigarettes one at a time.

There were so many activities to become involved in. The dances at the school were legendary. I could write a book on teenage angst caused by unrequited love that too often happened during those events. There were a lot of broken hearts littering the streets in those days. As legendary as the dances were, the parties were even more legendary. The community of St. Lambert was based on strict Puritanical Protestant Morals.

What I loved and still appreciate is how myopic St. Lambert parents could be if you played by the rules. I think every basement in town was reserved for parties. You always entered politely by the front door and politely introduced yourself to the parents of the person who was throwing the party. You followed the sound of music and the distinct smell of cigarette smoke and incense down the stairs where magic always happened. No matter how long the party lasted the parents were still in the kitchen when you left. Here is what I mean about a fraternity. The parents were not paying you lip service when they asked you if you were O.K. and did you need a lift home. There was a genuine concern, and you knew it. Living in Brossard meant that I had to calculate how long it would take me to walk down Green Street and catch No. 15 in front of Taylor’s Department Store. I miscalculated sometimes and walked home. I love those pleasant memories.

There were other times when we would get invited to a friend’s house for supper. The parents of St. Lambert covered the entire spectrum of employers. They gladly shared their food and their knowledge and their friendship with us. The entire adult population of the town worked as a unit to assure us we would never suffer as they had at our age. We did not know how fortunate we were. We were not aware of how difficult life could be if we were not living in our own version of “Middle Earth.” The atmosphere was insular and protective and pumped reality into that atmosphere in measured amounts so as not to contaminate or suffocate us.

The lessons I studied remained with me for the rest of my life. As I try to remember, the educators we were fortunate to have now seem like characters in a novel I read. Most of them were characters even in real life. The mention of an educator’s name conjured up a reputation not associated with the subject they were responsible for. Usually, we referred to them by their last name with very few exceptions. Every course was textured to be interesting. Sometimes the course and the educators were intense. The lessons learned were not taught so that you could pass an exam at the end of the year. The lessons were provided for you so you would learn something that you would retain and use for the remainder of your days.

I fondly remember Christmas. I always was involved delivering the food gifted to people. Some students had their own cars, but some insane parents loaned their vehicles to their children as well. Those were the days before power steering and power brakes and usually there was only an AM radio to listen to. By the end of the deliveries the windows were tinted blue from cigarette smoke and the ashtrays overflowed with butts. The best part of that last day before Christmas Break was The Official CCHS Christmas Show. Our school had unlimited talent, and they were not afraid to share it.

If you were a jock there was a place for you. If you were an artist there was a place for you. I was neither. I was a closet writer with no intention of sharing that fact at the time.

Two doors away from me In Brossard lived a Chinese exchange student, David Wong. He introduced me to photography. In his basement he constructed a primitive developing studio. He owned a few camera bodies and a few lenses. Together we used to venture along Craig Street in Montreal and visit Simon’s Cameras. Photographers from Montreal papers used to trade camera bodies and lenses there. You could also buy new equipment if you could afford it. Through the few years David and I attended school together we both graduated from one camera body and lens to another. David taught me the infinite combinations of exposure, aperture and depth of field. He started a photography club at CCHS which suffered a short, tortured existence. That was where my passion for photography was born and is one of the remaining passions I still employ.

The important legacy of my days at CCHS and the time spent in St. Lambert is that I never learned any lessons more important than the lessons I learned during those five years. Five years? I made sure to have the extended warranty on my education. The problem with being nurtured in the intoxicating crucible of St. Lambert was that at some point you had to leave it behind. CEGEP was amazing but the way we were educated made us feel as though we had just entered another universe. In a way we had. The real and ragged reality of real life was a bit of a shock. Once again, Champlain Regional College was just degrees away from the safe harbor we were used to being anchored in. Even CEGEP did not fully prepare us for life. On the other hand, we already had enough weapons in our arsenal to survive life.

I just passed my seventieth birthday. I am living in a province, a city and a society I do not understand. I do not even want to grant this place the privilege of my acceptance. I fear that it may be my age, or it may be that I have become that nostalgic old man people don’t want to hear anymore. CCHS was the second greatest experience I ever had in this life. I crafted friendships that have lasted to this day. The last four years of my life have been the most trying. I am still alive and breathing. On my worst days when I thought I was drowning, I could reach out with social media and people helped me deal with life. Not just any people. The first people who reached out each time were my friends from CCHS. Talk about a fraternity. I don’t consider myself a weak person but when I leaned in that direction the Alumni made sure I did not fail. We are a fortunate group to have studied and lived together. We have adopted the skill set our parents afforded us and we continue to carry on their legacy. We carry on the legacy of CCHS. I am not saying we are better than most but in my own way I am saying just that.

I am grateful to be a graduate and a member of the alumni of CCHS
Stephen Arthur Campbell Class of 1972 (Well 1973 also)

Greetings from Stuart Prest and Family

Good day Harvey,

I would like to thank you and your contributors for all of your latest news. My wife and I are celebrating our 34th Christmas together, and enjoying retirement to the fullest here in Rosemont. We were out to see my daughter Stéphanie (Class of '96) and her husband Jean-Paul over the Thanksgiving weekend. They have a beautiful home in Duncan (one hour north of Victoria).  It was a terrific long weekend as we were able to catch up with my cousin who lives just north of Comox in Black Creek. We shared a Thanksgiving luncheon celebration with the Beaucher family (Jean-Paul's family) and then took the red eye back to Montreal. My first visit to Vancouver Island was in 1970, with my old friend Charles McConnell (Class of '66) and have been back several times since. If you have not been out to Vancouver Island, it would be a good idea to put it on your bucket list. 

We shared New Year's Day afternoon with my wife’s family including her 96 year old mother. 

All the best to all the former students of C.C.H.S. especially to those of you from the Class of '67. Please remember that our 60th anniversary is coming up in 2027. 

Wishing everyone a very Happy and Healthy New Year. Let us all give PEACE a chance.
Stuart Prest

Inez Jabalpurwala
receives King Charles III Coronation Medal

Inez Jabalpurwala

Congratulations to Inez Jabalpurwala (CCHS, Class of 1984), currently President and CEO of the Public Policy Forum, whose work was recently recognized with the King Charles III Coronation Medal.

MP Alexandra Mendes of Brossard—Saint-Lambert
presented the award to Inez Jabalpurwala.

Inez received the honour, awarded for significant contributions to Canada, in recognition of her leadership in building cross-sector, human-centered research collaborations, and connecting different fields and disciplines to create the conditions for paradigm-changing discoveries.

King Charles III Coronation Medal

As the Founding President and CEO of the Brain Canada Foundation from 2001 to 2020, she made the case for the brain as one interconnected system, and brought a fragmented community together to advance brain health research in Canada. She named her approach "One Brain. One Community" and set the goal of driving "Big Science, Bold Science, Brain Science."

During her time, she grew the organization's assets from under $1 million to nearly $400 million.

As the Global Director of VINEx, an organization she established during the pandemic, she led efforts to explore the impact of SARS-CoV-2 and other viruses on brain health, and broadened that focus to the intersection of the environment and health.

And as newly appointed PPF President and CEO, Inez is bringing her appreciation of the importance of policy interconnections to bear on PPF’s work across a range of issues, including the energy transition, AI, life sciences and economic growth.

“I am honoured to receive this recognition which also recognizes the excellence of Canadian research and innovation,” Inez said. “I am excited to work with an outstanding team that is driving actionable policy to create a more prosperous country where everyone can thrive.”

Inez has always excelled at whatever she commits to. I commend Inez for all her accomplishments and appreciate the fact that when I needed help organizing a reunion, no matter how frivolous my issue was, she stepped up to help. Inez remains a very humble person who cares about the people in her circle. Congratulations, Inez, on this prestigious award. On behalf of CCHS - Class of 1984, we continue to be in awe of all you have accomplished. I am honoured to call you a friend.

Submitted by Pamela Storr, CCHS 1984

Mexico Calling

Hi Harvey - I enjoyed your newsletter very much. Your daily activities, the articles, the jokes. So interesting.

Here is the cover from my community newsletter that combined two of my favourite things - photography and sourdough bread baking. I am in Mazatlan Mexico now for the winter.

I played in the breast cancer fund raising golf tournament in Mazatlan on Jan 27 at the El Cid golf course. I am 2nd from left. The money goes to help the local ladies who have breast cancer. As a survivor since 2012 I got to go up on the stage and get a pink rose.

This is the view of the sunset from my condo balcony. Spectacular!

Mazatlan Sunset by Maureen Lafond Bisanti

We Have to Stop Meeting This Way

Just read the latest Newsletter and enjoyed it as usual. I must say that a lot of your personal news is most interesting and reading it makes me feel like I am still in St. Lambert hanging out with you.  I found the part about you having to have your doctor fill out a form, once you hit 80, that says you are ok to drive. As I will be turning 84 in a couple of days, I have had to go to the licence test center twice to check that I am ok to drive. Our test in Ontario does not involve a doctor. First you have to go online and watch a video of traffic rules. Piece of cake. Next, you go to the test center and you look in a machine and tell the person that is testing you where the red light is, left, right, etc. This is also pretty easy unless you have terrible eyesight. The last test is a cognitive test. You have so much time to draw a circle, put the numbers of a clock within the circle and then show the time, by drawing in the arms, to be ten minutes after eleven. If you can do all that you get your licence for two years at cost of $36.

I have a bad luck story to tell that involves driving that is almost hard to believe. My wife and I have two cars. Mine a 2022 Tucson Hybrid and hers a 2018 Elantra. Just before Xmas we were in Guelph looking for a particular shoe store in a mall. I had my signal on to turn but Marge said it is next entrance so kept going. A gal leaving the mall did not wait to see if I was actually turning and drove right in front of me. We were only doing 30 km per hour when I drove into her front door. $22,000 damage to the Tucson and that was basically the front grill, bumper, hood and fender. We had a witness and it was her fault so no cost increase in insurance. We got a rental to replace car. Two days later we were informed that Marge’s sister who is in long term care in Hamilton had been transferred to the hospital. We took Marge’s Elantra and stopped at a light in downtown Hamilton and when light turned green proceeded on our way. We were halfway through the intersection when a gal ran a red light and drove into side of Marge’s car at about 30 km per hour. The damage to Marge’s car was only $12,000. We had a witness and it was definitely her fault. We just got both cars back in the last 5 days. Our insurance should not go up and because it was not our fault we did not have to pay deductible. The guy at the body shop was quite funny and said “I hope we never see you again”.

Quite the Christmas present.

Take care Harvey. Maybe when next newsletter comes out you will have had a month where nothing unusual happens to you but somehow I doubt that. Lol

Peter Gordon Parry
29 April 1947 - 16 February 2025


Suddenly at Sherbrooke Fleurimont Hospital. Thanks to the ICU staff for all their compassionate care. Predeceased by his mother, Phyllis Parry (nee Dyer) and father, George Arthur Parry (St. Lambert, QC/St. Catharines, ON) and brothers, Arthur, Robert and David. Survived by his loving wife, Alla, his brothers Brian and Ken, and sister Judy, and many nieces & nephews.