Writing Samples
Book review published in Geist #68 (Spring, 2008).
The Tender Bar, the first book by J.R. Moehringer (Hyperion), a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist, could be subtitled “The Secret Hearts of Dysfunctional Men.” In his memoir of growing up “fatherless” in Manhasset, Long Island, Moehringer recounts his progression from boy to man and the influence of the intimately connected group of men that acted as his father figure. The second home for these men is a bar called Dickens (later renamed Publicans) where Moehringer’s Uncle Charlie rules from behind the taps as “Chief Justice.” The men are physically scarred, almost grotesque; Moehringer’s uncle, for example, has alopecia totalis and hides his affliction behind dark glasses, a hat and a demeanour that mimics Humphrey Bogart. They gamble on horses and baseball (the only sport that matters to these die-hard Mets fans), have problems with women and consume copious amounts of beer and liquor. They quote poetry, speak in multi-syllabic words (and beg your pardon for doing so), know their history and are assigned nicknames by Steve, the owner of the bar: “Bob the Cop,” “The Chief,” “Stinky,” “Goose” and “Colt.” These are “guy-guys,” but in their absolute maleness there is such tenderness in their observation of social ritual and how they care for one another, as well as for their unofficial charge, Moehringer. While Moehringer’s coming-of-age and coming-of-sobriety stories are compelling, it is the stories of the men of Dickens/Publicans that stuck with me. It is refreshing to read a book that lovingly tells the stories of men, regular guys who are just getting by as best they can.
To read more reviews written by Lily, and other writers, go to www.geist.com
“Measuring Success” published in the Venture North business column in Volume 1 Issue 4 of Yukon, North of Ordinary magazine.
When Albert Rock left high school after grade 10, it’s highly unlikely that the Cree-Coast Salish teenager thought one day he’d be the president of a groundbreaking technology company.
“I was good at math; I thought it was simple,” says Rock, who was diagnosed with dyslexia at a young age. “But not being good at reading… you become the class clown.”
After a stint with the Canadian Navy, working as a sheet-metal journeyman and finally settling into a career as a heating, ventilation and air-conditioning technician, Rock invented the simple tool that would alter his career path: a data logger.
It was during the overnight shifts that Rock and his son spent monitoring the temperatures and airflow in boiler rooms that the idea came to him: their work would be easier if there was a machine to do the monitoring. So Rock built one—a data logger—and that’s how ACR Systems got started. The company is based in Surrey, B.C., has a testing facility in Whitehorse, Y.T. and a research division in Kelowna, B.C.
“It’s like having another person working for me,” says Rock of the data logger, “one who doesn’t stop work at five o’clock.”
The first data logger was “smaller than a deck of cards”, and now some are “as small as buttons”. The data loggers that ACR builds measure everything from temperature, to relative humidity, to pulse frequency.
“Everything in life is related to pressure or temperature differentials,” says Rock. For ACR clients, such as Formula One race teams, the European Space Agency and NASA, monitoring differential measurements is about optimizing performance and achieving better results.
“In the race-car industry, you see the results by where the car places,” says Rock. In one year, each of the top-10 IndyCar race cars had installed an ACR data logger that measured the pressure of turbochargers.
For Rock, who is a race-car enthusiast, there are other projects—aside from Formula One and IndyCar—that stand out as memorable. “Our first space program was measuring heat tiles … and now we are doing fuel transportation and temperatures,” he says. “Those are pretty exciting things.”
Rock’s high-profile role in the technology sector was recognized in 1996 when he received an Aboriginal Achievement Award. “I have received other business awards, but this was great,” he says. “At the time I was doing a lot of speaking and trying to get Natives and bands involved in business.”
Rock’s commitment to involving First Nation people in the business world remains strong: ACR is 100 per cent owned by First Nations, both his son and daughter work for the company and one of his favourite projects is EPCOM Resources, a construction company that is 51 per cent owned by Yukon First Nations. “ACR owns 15 per cent and [Canadian engineering firm] SNC-Lavalin is a minority partner,” Rock says. “It’s something I really believe in.”
With thoughts of retirement looming, Rock, who makes his home on the shore of Lake Laberge, north of Whitehorse, is looking at cutting back on his workload. But his interest in business, research and development will continue to be a lifelong pursuit. He believes data loggers can help with efficiency and progress in medical sciences, environmental monitoring, food transportation and construction problems. “I just can’t sit around,” he says. “I’ve always got something I’m experimenting with.”
“Calling All Stations” published in Volume 1 Issue 3 of Yukon, North of Ordinary
It’s a bird, it’s a plane … actually, it really is a bird. In fact in the fall at either the Albert Creek (Watson Lake) or Teslin Lake bird-banding and migration-monitoring stations, you can see many birds, up close, during their north-south migrations.
Ted Murphy-Kelly and Ben Schonewille, both of whom hold master permits in bird banding, operate the stations. “These are bird-rich areas, from a Yukon perspective,” says Murphy-Kelly. “Birds are known to be very good indicators of change in the environment, so it’s important to monitor them.”
The stations focus on songbirds—also known as land birds—using bird banding and bird observation. “We set up mist nets that are 12 m in length and 4 m high at foraging levels for the birds.” The birds are caught in the fine mesh nets, banded, sized, aged, sexed and then released.
While Schonewille and Murphy-Kelly are the primary bird banders at the stations, they also train aspiring bird banders, as well as have students and volunteers working on-site. The certification process to band migratory birds is overseen by the North American Bird Banding Program, a federal program that is administered in Canada by the Canadian Wildlife Service and in the U.S. by the United States Geological Survey Bird Banding Laboratory. To gain sub- or master-permit status, candidates are required to display a thorough knowledge of birds: how to capture, handle and identify them.
“We just certified a woman from Haines Junction with a sub-permit for banding,” says Murphy-Kelly. “That means that she can band birds, but under the supervision of either Ben or myself.”
Originally from Québec, Murphy-Kelly trained to be a bird bander at the Long Point Bird Observatory on the north shore of Lake Erie in southern Ontario, prior to moving to Watson Lake in 1999. Once he arrived in the Yukon, he soon realized how unique the bird life in the area was. “You don’t see them [the songbirds] anywhere else besides Watson Lake,” he says.
The support from local non-profit organizations such as the Southeast Yukon Proper Land Use Society and Yukon Conservation Society, as well as funding from government agencies, ensured that both monitoring stations were established and up and running by 2005.
“We’re always doing observations,” says Murphy-Kelly. Unusual sightings of birds at the stations: “Magnolia warbler, eastern phoebe at Teslin Lake and the ovenbird at Teslin and Albert Creek”. The largest bird was “the northern harrier at Watson Lake and the pileated woodpecker, which is rare and large, and when in Yukon is at the northern end of its range.” The blackpole warbler that has been nicknamed “the champion of the long-distance migration”, also stops by the stations on its way from Brazil to breed in central Alaska.
“What these birds all have in common is that they are true boreal breeders. They come north to have their young.”