In 1995 my mother’s elder sister wrote a book about growing up in a tiny village by the name of Telegraph Cove. It was published by Harbour Publishing as No. 16 of the Raincoast Chronicles. It did very well. She later wrote other books, better books, but Time & Tide: A History of Telegraph Cove was her first.
I had not long moved back home to Vancouver after living abroad for many years, reconnected with my family and introduced them to my new husband, so new that we were still 8 weeks from marriage when we arrived. Auntie Pat was one always one of my self-acclaimed fans, and I was grateful for her enthusiastic support of my travels and ambitions and hobbies (especially dancing, which she loved) and my husband (who she adored).
Trust Pat Wastell Norris not to tell anyone she was writing a book until it was already published! I was thrilled and gobsmacked. My aunt wrote an actual book! That was published! And she went on glamourous things like book signings and readings! Well, that was just so inspirational. In no way did I ever imagine I would emulate her and write my own book about Telegraph Cove, and yet it is fitting that when I did, she was one of the first people I reached out to interview.
It was lucky I did. She was 86 years old but still had all her marbles. She gave me some family documents and a suitcase full of black and white photo negatives from the 1920s and ’30s. She recounted childhood memories and her own life story. The only thing she did not share were memories of a few years of drama, but I didn’t ask about them, because I knew enough already. Her memory started to slide within a year so I was doubly grateful to have had those conversations with her.
There was a lot to admire about my aunt, who died January 18, 2022 at the age of 92 and a half. She was smart, stylish, determined and willing to figure out how to do whatever she wanted to do with patience, research and planning. Like all the women in the Wastell family she was good with money, and valued it like everyone who grew up without it. Her childhood during the lean Depression years, and move to high school in Victoria BC where she felt like a country bumpkin made a lifelong impression on her and, like Scarlett O’Hara, pledged never to go hungry again. She could be stubborn, secretive and had a temper, but was an extremely giving, loyal friend, particularly to people who had done something with their lives, whether that was architecture, art, nursing, teaching, fishing – anything that required skill and talent and hard-work. The vain and the dull and the lazy she secretly despised. She was not a snob.
She married young and had one son of whom she was extremely proud. “My son, the dentist” was her usual introduction of same. But there is no doubt that her happiest years came later, when she chose to live her life independently. She built a house with a basement rental suite – the bottom line was always top of mind – in the youngish mountain community of Whistler and plunged into that new life, learning to ski, making close friends, hosting sophisticated dinner parties and joining in on anything the community offered in the way of concerts, dances and guest lectures.
She never took to travel – her system virtually shut down if she had to share a bathroom. However one evening she shocked her entire family when she announced she was joining a group to tour Cuba. Cuba! It was the music of course. She was mad about music that made you want to dance.
It was no doubt coming to terms with her childhood as well as a cool assessment of what would sell that led her to write her first book. For most of my life she was just “Auntie Pat” but since interviewing her and talking to others who knew her better, I have been able to see her as a whole person – and love her very much, thorns and all . Her place in the history of Telegraph Cove is assured, and in my heart she rests.
Jennifer L Butler 