Divide Lake "Highmont Estates"

Things people didn’t know about me are many and often surprising. I want to start writing about my life in more detail, sharing the challenges and struggles I have faced along the way.

When we moved to Logan Lake, BC in 1980 from Windermere, BC, we didn’t have a permanent place to live. We had no home to settle into, just a travel trailer parked at a lake about 30 minutes away from Logan Lake. I had just finished grade 8 at Invermere High School. This was definitely not the first time we had suddenly up and disappeared to another place to live. I vividly remember arriving with my sister, driving her old dark brown truck, and parking it in the Logan Lake parking lot. The very first person to introduce himself to me was Kirby, (thanks for the very weird handshake, I still remember that).There were a few others with him but I can’t remember their names.

These are just a few of the wonderful people with whom we shared meaningful moments and our lives at Divide Lake. My dad is three from the left.

These are just a few of the wonderful people with whom we shared meaningful moments and our lives at Divide Lake. My dad is three from the left.

Mom and dad had two trailers parked side by side, with their doors facing each other. The larger trailer was where mom and dad stayed, and it served as the place where we did all our cooking. The smaller trailer was used by my sister and me as our bedroom. We lived in those trailers for almost a year and a half, enduring all the seasons, including the harsh winter. During the weekdays, a yellow cab would pick us up every morning and drive us to school. I still vividly remember the driver's name—Keith McKague.

In the winter months, we had to break the ice off the dock regularly to fetch buckets of water, which we would bring into the bigger trailer to heat up for bathing. That water was strictly reserved for bathing, as the other supply was designated solely for drinking and cooking. I can’t recall exactly how many times a week we were fortunate enough to go to the mine where dad worked to have a proper shower, but those moments were always a welcome relief.

There was one memorable time during the middle of winter when we woke up to find that the propane had completely run out, and to make matters worse, our clothes were frozen solid, stuck to the icy wall. My parents had purchased some property in a newer section of Logan Lake, where the trailers were set up on lots. We stayed there for a while until they managed to buy a double-wide trailer up on Carson Crescent, located behind the recreation center. Mom and Dad always wanted to build a proper house, but unfortunately, the finances just weren’t there to make that dream a reality.

Dad worked long hours at the mine, and Mom tended bar to help make ends meet. At first, I actually liked living out at Divide Lake with a small group of other family members. It felt like we had our own little community, close-knit and supportive. However, what I didn’t enjoy was the daily teasing and name-calling I had to endure from others. There were moments when I simply didn’t want to continue with my life anymore. I felt completely lost and utterly alone, as if no one could understand what I was going through.If I could go back in time, I would wrap my arms around my 16-year-old self in a warm, comforting hug and gently tell her that everything will be okay, no matter how difficult things may seem.

I spent my 16th birthday living in that trailer, and I clearly remember my birthday cake, which had a car decoration on it. That year, I was given a choice between a car, a truck, or a motorbike for my birthday gift. I ended up choosing the motorbike, but had to come up with the money on my own to pay for the insurance. To earn enough cash, I went out to the main roads, collecting bottles and recycling them, slowly saving until I could afford the insurance payments.

I was always waiting for that special day when we would finally pack up and head back to Windermere because it always seemed to happen that way. Our family would stay in one place for a year or two, maybe a little longer, then move again and again, never really settling down. Because of this constant moving, I never really had the chance to make lasting friends. It broke my heart deeply when I found out that Mom and Dad were forced to sell the house in Windermere. That meant we were never going back home again, and it felt like a part of me was lost forever. I never really got to say goodbye to any of my friends from that place. They said later that one day we were there, and the next, we were just gone without warning. Despite all that, I can still clearly remember many of their names. Chad, Mark, Kenny, Howie, Patrick, Terry, Robert, Karen, Marie, Maria, Stacey, Bobbie, Sheila, Vanessa—there are surely more names that escape me now. Every time we returned, those wonderful friends were always there, waiting as if we had never left. I had a cherished childhood bond with all of them that I will carry with me forever. I have vivid memories of what they looked like when they were younger, captured clearly in my mind. I also have a few that are on my Facebook, and I am aware of where some of them have moved to over the years, now living in different places as they grew and moved on with their lives.

I was casually scrolling through Marketplace when I came across a trailer that looked almost identical to the larger trailer we once had. In that moment, a wave of nostalgia hit me, and I realized it was the perfect time to start writing down my memories. I felt the urge to share the stories and experiences that have shaped my life.

I remember spending countless hours simply drawing, reading books, or playing games like backgammon. The back part of the trailer, about three-quarters of it, was strictly off limits to us. That area was considered Mom and Dad’s private section. There wasn’t any television to watch inside the trailer. When we did get the chance to watch TV, it was usually at my sister’s boyfriend’s house in Logan Lake, where his parents owned the local cab company.

The Christmas we spent in the trailer was quite memorable. We had this really tiny, almost delicate tree that was carefully set up on the small table inside. I received a handheld baseball game and a set of cross-country skis as gifts. Strangely, I never actually learned how to cross-country ski, and to this day, I’m not sure why I never made the effort. The skis just ended up sitting unused, gathering dust in the corner. I really missed the downhill skiing we enjoyed every winter at Panorama Ski Hill, which was always a highlight of the season for me.

To continue….