The Badger Riot (45 page)

Looking at me with her steady grey eyes, she said, “When you think of this, years from now, you'll realize that the shock of what you saw at the Badger Riot, the killing of a policeman, the blood on the snow, was what hastened you on your way to womanhood.”

She finished ironing the last shirt and started to put away her flatiron. “Amanda, my child, you'll never forget this. None of us ever will.”

I sat in the confessional box. The church was empty, but my parishioners knew I was there, as I was every Saturday evening, should they need to talk to their priest.

The conflict was over. Most of the loggers had joined up with Joey Smallwood's union, the Newfoundland Brotherhood of Wood Workers, and had gone back into the woods camps for the haul-off. Others had escaped back to their outport homes. Badger looked wartorn. There was a sense of unease in the air. The residents were still in shock. People talked to each other in low tones.

The door on the other side of the partition squeaked open. I heard someone kneel down. The box was dark. I slid open the grill between the penitent and myself.

“Bless me Father, for I have sinned,” the voice rasped in the darkness. I knew most of my parishioners' voices, but not this one. Someone in disguise, or a stranger?

“What is your sin, my child?” I asked.

“Father, I . . . I . . . killed that police feller. I bashed his head in with me stick. I hit him three or four times, Father. It wudn't no accident. I did it on purpose. They should have left us alone. We was only loggers tryin' to make a decent living.” The gruff voice broke, seeming to sob.

Before I could gather myself to speak, I heard the confessional door bang open. Running footsteps echoed down through the church, and the person was gone.

When the A.N.D. Company and the IWA had not worked out a collective agreement in 1958, the IWA requested that the Smallwood Government convene a conciliation board. The board recommended a reduction in work hours, improved camp conditions, and a wage increase of $1.22 per hour.

These recommendations were accepted by the IWA but turned down by the A.N.D. Company. In response, loggers took to the picket lines.

Smallwood decertified the IWA and formed a government union to represent the loggers.

Two days after the Badger Riot, the A.N.D. Company signed an agreement with Smallwood's Newfoundland Brotherhood of Wood Workers – giving the loggers improved living conditions and a wage of $1.22 per hour.

This book would not have been possible without the help and encouragement of the following people.

My dear mother, Lucy Day, who at the age of eighty-seven delved into her wonderful memory, and made two trips to Badger with me opening doors into her generation – a generation who were young adults during the IWA conflict. Her love and her faith in me was a well of strength that I drew upon.

My brother H. Scott Day, a writer himself, who led me through his boyhood in Badger and explained technical things like tractors and undercarriages of cars. Scott, your patience with me was phenomenal.

My family: Carol and Bridget, my daughters, and Brian, my son, and their three spouses, who were rooting for me all the way. My grandchildren Katlynn Ballam, Brianna Ricketts, and Andrew Ballam, who knew their “Mugga” would someday write a book.

My daughter Bridget Ricketts started me on my writing journey with a gift certificate for my birthday to Gordon Rodgers's writing class at Memorial University. Bridget prodded me along with suggestions, profiles, timelines, and edits. Finally I was able to wing it on my own and she let me fly.

The people of Badger: Mary Card Killam – thanks for the
www.newfoundwebbers.com
thread and for your support in all things, from start to finish. For you who opened your homes, your hearts and your memories to me: Mike and Margaret (Patey) Murray,
Gordon and Margaret (Saunders) Patey, Ted Patey, for his video of the 2003 flood. Clyde and Marie (Gill) Loder, their daughter Lorna (Loder) Stuckless, Reg and Cora White, Mrs. Doris Burt, Fred and Hilda Wells, thank you for your hospitality and support. Earl Penney, who told me about the Company snowmobile and other stories, and his daughter Velda Penney Hewlett, Albert and Jean Loder Lush, for spending an evening talking, many thanks to you all.

Howard Noseworthy, who for four hours sat and introduced me to the wongers, the cable boat, the River, and who sang me a great song,
The Shores of Twin Lakes
, thank you.

Special mention must be made to Ms. Irene Matthews, my grade school teacher, who first showed me that it was possible to write and who, in my opinion, has a command of the written English language that is second to none. Her book,
Memories of Badger: An Anthology of Reminiscences
, O. I. Matthews 1991, was invaluable to me in recapturing the old-time feel of the town.

My gratitude and thanks to Gordon Butt for help with things past, Cyril Hannon, former Assistant CNR Agent at Badger, for help with train schedules and other matters, Frances MacDonald Newman for her advice, and Harry Hayden, for giving me his old books and notes. A special thank you to Matthew Aylward, who talked to me about burial practices in Bonavista Bay.

To those that have passed away while this was being written:

Ignatius Paul (1938–2005), Vice-Chief of the Exploits Valley Sple'tk First Nations Band, whose tales and stories of the Mi'kmaq community of Badger in the 1950s were wonderful and whose heart stone will stay with me always.

Marmaduke Noel (1914–2007), who, at ninety-four, still retained in his memory passionate views of the strike. Mrs. Elsie Loder (1914–2007), a lovely gentle lady, who related her memories of a terrible time seen through the eyes of a young woman.

To John Kitchen, author of
By the Sweat of my Brow
, with whom I spent many hours discussing the logging industry.

Although I consulted many articles and readings at the Newfoundland Studies at Memorial University and at the A.C.
Hunter Library, Newfoundland Room, the most definitive account was found at the Rooms by an archivist who came in on her day off to bring it to me. It is “We are only Loggers: Loggers and the Struggle for Development in Newfoundland, 1929–1959,” Dufferin Sutherland (Ph.D. thesis, University of British Columbia, 1995) 183–87, 291–98.

A slim book called
The Savour of Things Past
, the Ongoing Book Committee, 1986, which I found in the most unlikely place, had a great article by Elmer Ball, a native of Badger, called “The Badger Drive,” in which he describes the working life of a wonger, a word that has long dropped from use. Thank you to the Ball family for giving me permission to use it.

I also drew heavily on
A Class Act
, Bill Gillespie, 1986, Creative Printers, for the labour side of the dispute.

A video of Landon Ladd speaking to MUN students in 1983 brought the famous union leader to life for me once again in “Only the Strong are Free – the Newfoundland Logger's Strike of 1959,” H. Landon Ladd CCLH Video Memorial University 1983.

Because the railway figured so largely in the 1950s, I drew on
The People's Road: on the trail of the Newfoundland Railway
, Wade Kearley, 1995, Harry Cuff Publications, and
Next Stop: Gaff Topsail
, Mont Lingard, 1996.

To the facilitators of the many writing classes: Gordon Rodgers, to whom the idea for this story was first pitched. His support and encouragement were the impetus that put me on this path. Also, Carmelita McGrath, JoAnne Soper Cook, and Paul Butler. By the time I reached Paul, I knew where I was going but didn't know how to get there. Thank you, Paul, for showing me the way. To all of you, your knowledge, patience, and expertise were invaluable.

Thank you to all the people who wrote me on the newfoundwebbers site with your stories:

Especially Madonna Piercey Mercer, Merlyn Dicks, Jerry Lush, Wallace Hoddinott. Others known only by their nicknames: Blue, Charity, Salty, river, Whammy, ocean, Diet Coke girl, Starve Gutted Gull, Viking, Pat, Dusty, Weezie, and many more.

My heartfelt gratitude goes to my publishers extraordinaire at Flanker Press – Garry, Margo, and Jerry Cranford – who gently led me through the editing process. From them I learned that it's one thing to write a story, but it's quite another thing to get it between two covers and onto the shelves.

A special thank you to Anne Hart for editing this book.

My late husband, Felix Ricketts, took great pride in everything that I wrote. His favourite comment was, “By the jumpin's, old girl, you can sure put it together.” Even though it is sad that he is not here physically to see my book published, I always feel he is with me in spirit, encouraging me, pushing me along to the finish line.

Even though this story is woven around a true event, all characters are products of my imagination. Any errors in interpreting the logging operations during the 1950s are mine and mine alone. The eyewitness account of the riot is from my own memory of the event.

JUDY
(
DAY
)
RICKETTS
was fourteen years old at the time of the International Woodworkers of America (IWA) Strike of 1959. A native of Badger, she, along with other schoolchildren, watched from the roadside as loggers and local authorities came together in a famous melee that effectively ended the strike. She believes that the children of the day never recovered from witnessing this terrible event in Newfoundland's history. Fifty years later, she knows that the emotions still run deep. Judy can be reached by email at [email protected]. Her author website is
www.jaricketts.com
.