I recently marked the 10-year milestone of being back here as a regular staffer at the Banner. Over that time I’ve had the pleasure of interviewing countless folks who were willing to share their stories with yours truly, our fine publication, and its dedicated readership.
It’s not a role I take lightly. Being the only newspaper of record in a given geographic area, you are in a sense responsible for helping to compile its local history that will be a source of valuable information for the years that follow.
Short of performing some sort of painstaking manual count, it’s impossible to know just how many articles I’ve compiled over my tenure as a community newspaperman (always liked that throwback term from the… I want to say 1920s?). But there are certainly interviews and stories that stay with you, no matter how many more clicks you rack up on the old biological odometer.
In November 2017, not long before the decommissioning of Listowel Memorial Arena, I was able to share a special moment with Pete Leppard and Murray Helmka. The two men, both 69 at the time, were still enthusiastically strapping on their gear for their weekly shinny game, and this would be one of their last scrimmages in the building that served as the successor to the original Listowel Memorial Arena.
Both Leppard and Helmka were on the ice that Saturday morning, Feb. 28, 1959, when Listowel’s history was forever altered. Heavy overnight rains and snow build up (combined with poor construction practices of the time, it was later revealed) proved to be too much weight for the arena roof to bear, and at 9:27 a.m., it collapsed directly onto the peewee hockey practice being conducted below. Seven boys – James Hastings, Kenneth Hymers, Richard Kaufman, Jackie Rheubottom, Bryan Seehaver, Barry Smith and Keith Wight – were killed in the prime of their youth, along with recreation director Kenneth McLeod.
Leppard and Helmka, among others, escaped with relatively minor injuries, largely due to the fact that they were just arriving at the bench for a line change. Their position was one free of the falling steel support beams that took the most catastrophic toll on the victims. A matter of a few feet literally was the difference between life and death for some.
I had to look back at my 2017 feature to get Leppard’s quote just right, but it was still very close to what I recalled today from memory, well over five years later. Some words just stay with you, and his were punctuated by the strained face and pained look in his eyes, even 58 years after that terrible day.
“It still hurts,” Leppard told me, with Helmka nodding solemnly in silent agreement. “Until my final day I will remember it. You can’t forget. For everybody that was there, it’s right at the front of your eyes all the time.”
Those who were there will never forget, and neither should the rest of us. The 64th anniversary of Listowel’s darkest day is next Tuesday, Feb. 28, and year after year, people like Leppard, Helmka and Keith Bender have went to great lengths to ensure that the memories of their friends don’t disappear, regardless of there not being a bricks and mortar memorial at the site at present to aid that endeavour.
But there will be. Efforts of the Friends of 59 and now the Memorial Arena Park ‘59 (MAP59) committee continue to fundraise to see their vision of a community park and memorial at the former site of the arena realized. Fundraising has gone well through its first six months, but more is still needed.
There may be opposition in some circles to seeing tax dollars make up any difference that may occur if the $1.4 million fundraising effort ultimately falls short.
Yes, money is always needed elsewhere; roads need to be maintained and there are many other areas that require municipal financial attention. But preserving our community’s heritage and history is equally vital – it’s what gives our little corner of the globe character and substance.
I obviously never knew any of those who lost their lives in February 1959 – I was born a full quarter-century after it happened. But I know people who did; family members and friends of both survivors and victims who still feel that loss today. A great many of us do.
The Memorial Arena Park project is a gesture that will honour the memories of those who were lost. It will serve as a place of remembrance, education and healing. And quite appropriately, it will offer a recreational space that our children and children’s children can enjoy, on the same hallowed ground where eight lives were tragically taken far too soon.
Thanks for reading and I’ll see you back here in a fortnight.
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This is a bi-weekly opinion column; for question or comment contact Dan McNee at dmcnee@midwesternnewspapers.com.
