LITMIR.BIZ

      Acknowledgements

      With much appreciation I am becoming increasingly aware of the work involved in putting a book together. The writing is just the beginning. First of all, I would like to thank Dundurn Press for accepting this second episode of my story. I would like to thank my daughter, Cathy Penny, who has just finished four years at McMaster University for her unwavering knowledge and help; Cathy never hesitated when I asked if she would edit my manuscript. Her speed with her laptop blew me away as she manipulated my messy tale into something that would make sense. Her skills made it possible to meet my deadline.

      I would also like to extend a special thank you to my friend Elaine Boucher, who sat in my studio trying to correct my grammar without changing my words; putting then and than in the right places and encouraging me when I was in doubt. I’m also thankful to my siblings for helping me out in memory jams.

      To our four children, Gregory, Darlene, Catherine, and Mark, I want to thank them so very much for allowing me to expose their childhood to the world. They came from strong, courageous stock and I am very proud of them. I want to acknowledge Mark and Cathy for, not only their computer and technical skills, but also their patience for my lack of them.

      And Keith, what can I say? We were two very broken people trying to raise a family of four children without the life skills to even know how. He has been my biggest support, and he’s pretty good at promoting my books as well. To all my employees, both as domestics, professional, and those not so professional, but were there for me — thank you all.

      And finally, to all the people whose names are mentioned without permission, please forgive me. I don’t even know where most of you are, but we could get in touch through Facebook or in person if you care to reach me. My life is an open book — literally.

      Introduction

      It was difficult coming up with a title for this book.

      Several titles came to mind over the course of writing the next seventeen years of my journey. Goose Bay, Labrador, was a transient military base. Once the forces moved out, people who had lived in Goose Bay for a number of years then moved on to other parts of the world. Anyone who had lived there affectionately referred to it as on the Goose. Happy Valley came to be as a result of the civilians who helped build both the Canadian and Americas bases. When talking of on the Goose, it could refer to all areas of Happy Valley and Goose Bay.

      When I arrived there in 1960 it was still a pioneer town without a lot of the amenities that one expects. With the help of my publisher Dundurn, in Toronto, we selected this title from several that I’d suggested.

      The seventeen years I spent on the Goose was anything but tranquil, peaceful, or fulfilling. My work as an employee and an entrepreneur, my duties as a mother, and my dedication to my husband and friends pushed me, at times, beyond my ability to cope.

      This story takes place in Happy Valley and Goose Bay, located in Central Labrador. Some names have been changed to protect relatives and friends who were entangled in my life.

      At age eighteen, I met and married my husband Keith and gave birth to four beautiful children before the age of twenty-four.

      In recent years I’ve heard Labrador being called “The Big Land” and for good reason: three areas the size of Newfoundland Island can fit within the boundaries of Labrador, which has a total population of approximately 28,000, primarily made up of Caucasian, Inuit (Eskimo), Innu (Indian), Metis, and European settlers. These settlers married aboriginals, resulting in the majority of Métis Labradorians today.

      In 1961 when I moved to Happy Valley, there were 2,861 people. It doubled in 1966 to 4,415. After the amalgamation of Spruce Park and the Department of Transport housing areas in 1970, the population grew to approximately 7,000 people.

      How did Happy Valley–Goose Bay get started? It’s a long, drawn-out story, but the short of it is this: During the Second World War three countries — Great Britain, the United States, and Canada — had decided they needed airfield facilities as final stopover and re-fuelling sites before crossing to Europe, and to provide security to the Northern Hemisphere.

      In May 1941, Captain Roosevelt and Dr. Forbes from the United States headed the expedition to find a suitable location for an airbase. After searching Hebron in Northern Labrador and Baffin Island they came to a place near North West River in Central Labrador, and chose the area around Lake Melville.

      The Canadian Privy Council reported at the July 1941 meeting that the Minister of National Defence and its board construct a base on the Western coast. They had already been surveying the area as a possible site for their base. After much study it was decided that Goose Bay’s sandy plateau, known as the bench, was the most suitable.

      Goose Bay had a relatively clear, dry climate and was accessible by sea through the Hamilton Inlet into Terrington Basin. It was decided that all three countries work jointly to build the massive airfields, which later became Goose Bay International Airport. The airfields served three distinct military bases: the Royal Canadian Air Force, the United States Air Force, and a small contingency of Royal Air Force as well. Goose Bay prided itself on having one of the largest runways for aircraft in the Western Hemisphere.

      McNamara Construction offered to build the base or bases. It was a colossal job, to be sure. Shiploads of steel, wood, and all forms of building materials were off-loaded from ships in Terrington Basin, which had to be dredged to make it accessible for the ships to enter it, then transported to the newly chosen sites. Shacks were constructed for the workers, and so work began. Strong, proud individuals of all races and geographical locations left their homelands and headed for Goose Bay, Labrador, and a promise of a better life.

      I would like to apologize for any inaccuracies in this story that other people may see or remember differently. My portrayal of Goose Bay in the sixties and seventies is true to my story as I saw it.

      Enjoy!

      Chapter 1

      Happy Valley

      On a warm, sunny day in July 1960, I was filled with excitement, anticipation, and apprehension as the old ship moved closer and closer to my new world. My boyfriend, Murray, had gotten me a job in Happy Valley, and as I clung to him, he tried to explain what it was like there. It’s hard to describe the barrage of feelings as the old Kyle steamed her way into Goose Bay’s only seaport, Terrington Basin. My friend, Linda Mullins, who’d moved back to Cartwright from Goose Bay several years earlier, had also tried to tell me what it was like.

      “Where is Happy Valley?” I asked.

      “It’s difficult to explain unless you’ve been there at least once,” she replied. “All I can say is that it’s in Central Labrador and about a twelve-hour run on the steamer. It’s a busy place with thousands of people, cars, trucks, and motorcycles.” She went on to explain how it was built and how it operated. My curiosity piqued as Linda tried to explain to me how and why Goose Bay came to be. How it was rooted in the complexity of the military.

      Goose Bay was made up of two bases belonging to the Canadian Armed Forces and the United States Air Force; each distinctly different and referred to locally as the Canadian side and the American side. Each had its own movie theatre and restaurants. Between the two they had every sporting facility found in any large city. The Americans had nightclubs with slot machines, buildings with racquetball, volleyball, basketball, and tennis courts, and a golf course. The Canadians had a hockey arena and curling club. It had a recreation centre which housed a swimming pool, a mezzanine floor for basketball, badminton, and ping-pong tables. They had their own store on base. There was also a club for each rank of military personnel, as well as a civilian club for all civilians working for them.

      It was all beyond my capacity to understand.

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