While visiting Paul and Janis Bursey's cabin mid-March this winter I found it to be nestled in about eight feet of super white snow. Buried might be a more appropriate term. Their cabin is located on the shoreline of Burnt Berry Pond about ten miles west from South Brook on the Trans Canada Highway. As Paul and I entered we paused to take off at least one layer of clothes. While pulling off my cuffs and Kieley's Kap I noticed a small bench that I presume was put there in the porch as a catch all. I affectionately call my stocking cap Kieley's Kap because it was given to me by a Grade Five student Kieley Russell when I retired. Pausing in front of the bench I recalled a similar sort of bench that took me back to the late summer of 1971. I was headed back to Memorial University for the fall semester along with hundreds of my fellow baymen and baygirls to fill our heads with facts, lies,and partial facts. President Trump might add "real lies" to that list. Politics, never a dull subject in Canada's Newest Province, was at a feverish pitch that fall. Most of us young idealists felt that there was not a gap, but a gulf between our politicians and the rest of the general population. I, personally, never paid much attention before this but it did seem to me that Premier Joseph Smallwood was acting like a dictator, not like an elected official who didn't want to listen to the younger brains in the House of Assembly like Clyde Wells and John Crosbie. On the week-end before university classes began there was the usual rush to find boarding houses or to head to the university residences. Long snake like lineups had to be faced to try and get the courses you needed. You needed the stamina and determination of Sidney Crosby just to get registered. I, too, was actively asking around to see if I could get a ride from Springdale to the capital city. Lady luck shone on me when my father-in-law learned that his brother, Corbin Clarke was going in to St.John's. Next morning I was off and found him at The Shady Rest Hotel. Corbin was the leader of the Green Bay Liberal Delegation and as luck should have it they were going in two cars. "Yes, I think we can squeeze you in," he said as he began naming those who were intending to go. "We have to stop at Roache's Line for a meeting with the premier but that shouldn't take more than an hour." "Great," I agreed. The trip across the island probably took us four to five hours. After turning off the TCH it wasn't long before we pulled up in front of two pillars which adorned a driveway entrance. What a house it was! Well, Joey was like Moses in my mind so I guess he should have a nice home. Naively, I thought he owned it. After all I spent years looking at his picture which my Grandmother Harris proudly hung on the wall in New Melbourne, Trinity Bay. This man could do no wrong, could he? The baby bonus was proof of that. The entourage from Green Bay got out and I, not sure of what to do next, lay across the long back seat to get forty winks. I never had a chance to closed when the door by my feet swung open and Corbin said, "Come in with us cause it's going to be cold here in the car." I got out and followed him like a lamb being led to slaughter, yet part of me wanted to see this great leader in the flesh. It would be like seeing Roy Rogers or Gordie Howe. Upon entering the house the delegation was made comfortable and by the time we got in most were taking a seat in one of the largest dining rooms I had ever seen. It looked more like the Eastern Provincial Airways Terminal in Deer Lake. Corbin turned to me and motioned to a bench just inside the doorway. "You can sit here on the deacons bench," he instructed. I was a little ways away from the rest of the delegation, yet close enough to hear all the proceedings. Something like the sentry in the lodge. I was about to get a life lesson in group dynamics that the university could not teach. After the delegation was formally introduced the master took control and instead of sitting Mr. Smallwood started talking and pacing from one end of the room to the other, pausing only briefly for effect, but continuing before he could be interrupted. "We're going to take this seat and that seat. No problem on the South Coast. I was talking to Fred and he assures me we'll have no problems beating the Tories in Bonavista North." On and on he went all the time pacing from one end of the room to the other where I sat and he was forced to turn around again. I was flabbergasted, bored, awed and puzzled. All I could think was "Enough already with the pep talk. You've thoroughly convinced me our democratic system needs an overhaul." After what seemed like an eternity he made his umpteenth pass on front of me and glanced my way. I caught his eye and said, "You're pretty optimistic aren't you?" There was a split second pause as he spun on his heels and waving his finger my way he admonished me, "No, my son, not optimistic – realistic." If I could have crawled under the Deacons Bench I probably would have after realizing I had questioned his authority, but like a true prophet he just kept on pacing and prophesizing to his followers. When the meeting finally adjourned, or should I say that when Mr. Smallwood decided that everyone was thoroughly convinced that he would beat the daylights out of Frank Moores and the PCs in the upcoming election, we left to continue our journey to St. John's. As we were driving away, Corbin turned from his front seat position and said, "Kel, you spoke up against the Premier." To this day I'm not sure what message he was conveying to me. Was it a compliment? I'll never know! Well, the election was held in the fall and Premier Smallwood met his first defeat at the polls. The people wanted change! I guess that the young gaffers like Paul and I knew in our heart of hearts that change doesn't come easily. I am proud of today's youth because they are not prepared to idly sit on their Deacons Bench but stand up for for their beliefs. Not saying they are always right, but they make us pause and think. That's part of our democracy worth fighting for.   Submitted By: NULL