Thirteen-year-old Valerie Waymark was dead set on domesticity.
Six kids, she thought. A career in teaching, she opined.
That was in June 1969.
Now?
Not so much.
“I was completely wrong,” she told the Courier with a laugh. “I became a registered nurse and had no children, by desire. I realized that I really didn’t like children all that much.”
The wishes of the past intersected with the realities of the present June 26, as dozens of Kerrisdale elementary alumni gathered at the old barn on West 41st to reveal the contents of a time capsule buried in the school yard almost 50 years to the day.
The capsule’s contents were mostly letters students wrote to themselves alongside some trinkets of yore. Letters were written to the students from the mayors, superintendents and premiers of the day. Then-Prime Minister Pierre Elliot Trudeau even chimed in to wish the rug rats well.
“Writing this message in the week that has seen man’s first hesitant step on the moon, I would be foolhardy to predict the conditions of life on this planet in 50 years,” Trudeau wrote. “I am sure that, barring a nuclear catastrophe, the astounding progress in technology which we have experienced over the last half century will continue and probably accelerate.”
And boy, did Trudeau call it — there they were, some 50 years later, all in their early 60s, taking photos on their cellphones and recording the proceedings with high-definition cameras.Ěý
Some came from as far as New York and Toronto, and the two-hour-long festivities were packed with era-specific moments in time. Songs by the Guess Who and Joni Mitchell were performed. Photos from the time period were also shown such as the late Pat Quinn standing on the Pacific Coliseum ice as the Canucks’ entered their first NHL season and Neil Armstrong walking on the moon.
The Courier spoke to a handful of grads, many of whom delivered the Kerrisdale Courier (before it became the Â鶹´«Ă˝Ół»Courier) in the ’60s. They spoke to their life trajectories, what they thought the future would hold and how their old digs have changed over five decades. All of them are now in their early 60s and can collectively boast about their immaculate handwriting.
Gregg Peterson now lives in Toronto, where music is his life: he sells instruments for a living and is a working musician.
What did you write to yourself back in late June 1969?
“Gregg as you read this letter, 50 years from the day it was written, I hope you have changed psychologically from what you are today. If you are singing for a living and living a prosperous life, please be thankful.”
What were your hobbies at that time?
Music. We played on this stage a lot. I had an older brother who was four years older who mimed to Beatles’ songs with outfits that the Beatles wore. By the time I got here, we played live. We had bands and we played “Magical Mystery Tour,” “While My Guitar Gently Weeps.” This is one of the first places I played live, and I still play live in Toronto.
Bruce Shaw lived in Â鶹´«Ă˝Ół»for his entire life until last year. He’s retired and lives on the Sunshine Coast after working in the antiques business for more than two decades.
How did your life end up versus how you thought it would end up when you were 13?
I never had a gameplan. But a curious thing happened coming to and from school. I took a shortcut one day, went down a lane instead of the street and discovered all kinds of furniture and stuff being discarded. I found that interesting so I collected a few pieces that I could use and that I liked. One thing led to another and I was soon doing a flea market in Cloverdale. That’s how I got into the antique business. It seemed to be a natural niche for me.
What kind of advice would you give to a Grade 7 student about life in high school and the future in general?
I think more about it now, being in my 60s, and it dawned on me recently that I’ve just retired. I didn’t give it much thought before, but there’s a lot less time in front of me than there is behind me. I take stock and look at where things are at and what the future holds and what’s left of it. I would tell the kids to enjoy their youth while they still can. Appreciate your freedom of thought and actions and the fact that you’re living in one of the best places on the planet.
Shane Hemphill is also retired after careers in the film business, restaurant management and art brokerage. He’s a Kerrisdale lifer.
What do you remember about the day the time capsule went into the ground?
It was a very exciting day. I remember burying the time capsule. At night, a whole bunch of us in Grade 7 were going to a party in Kitsilano because the elementary school down there was having a party, as well. We passed by Mayor Tom Campbell’s house, and we knocked on the door. The housekeeper came to the door, and along came Mr. Campbell. We told him we represented Kerrisdale elementary and thanked him for his involvement in the time capsule.
You didn’t have a letter in the time capsule. Why?
My penmanship was terrible.
Paul Docksteader retired in 2012 after a career in the family’s automotive chain. He delivered the Kerrisdale Courier while in Grade 6 and 7 and now lives in Kelowna.
What comes to mind when you read your thoughts from 50 years ago?
My initial reaction was that I was a dreamer. You’re dreaming of what life can be like. In my case, it was a completely different direction. We had a family business and I was destined to go in that direction even though I didn’t really want to. Life had its own plan. The universe directed me back in the family business and I very much enjoyed it.
To what extent do you keep up with your former classmates?
There’s about eight of us who went to Kerrisdale Annex together, and we’ve remained friends all these years. It’s very unique, we’re like a brotherhood. We play golf together every year, we have annual events. We stick together and we’re always in touch.
Valerie Waymark lives in Prince George and worked in nursing her entire adult life.
What comes to mind while standing in your old neighbourhood, given that you’ve been gone for so long?
What strikes me is how the same it is, but also how different it is. My old house is still there at 34th and Mackenzie. It’s a tiny little house — I can’t believe someone hasn’t ripped it down and built something bigger. When I go to the Mackenzie Heights area, it’s completely different now. It’s not the same flavour that it had when I was in my school and teen years, but it’s grown up now. I know that I’ve grown up as well, and if I was growing up around here at this time, I think I would love it.
What kind of advice would you give to a Grade 7 student about life in high school and the future in general?
Stay connected to whatever that has meaning for them — to the people around them, to their family, to the earth, to the water. Whatever it is that’s important to you to feel connected to, keep that connection all the time. If you don’t lose that, you won’t go wrong.
