Nathaniel Christopher

These were my father’s glasses:

My father's glasses

They are the only possession of his that I own. When he died in 2003 the prison hospital shipped me his remaining possessions which amounted to a box of papers, a few books, some cards and photos, and those plastic prison-issue glasses in a brown vinyl case.

In 2002 my father looked through these lenses when he saw my face for the first time. It was my first, and only, meeting with him which took place in the visitor’s room at Indiana State Prison in Michigan City, Indiana. I was a pensive, but determined, 20-year-old university student with the same eyes as he. Yes, I was definitely related to this man but I would never call him “dad” and I think that hurt him.
He made poor choices in life and many of these choices meant that he could never be a parent to his children. He did, however, wish to have contact with all of his children including his first son who was born in the summer of 1971 and later put for adoption.

It was me who eventually made that contact – very recently, in fact.

This son is my brother. Robert Russell Burton of Henderson County, Kentucky.

Robert Russell and Tommie Robert Henderson

“Hello, Robert. Are you there? You can go ahead now,” says the executive director of the Georgia Adoption Reunion Registry. “Thanks, Peggy,” says the man on the other end. His voice is several octaves deeper than my own and he speaks in a drawl indicative of someone who has lived their whole life in the American South. “Thank you,” I say to Peggy who tells us that she’s going to put the phone in the drawer while we talk. “I guess I should tell you that I’m Nathaniel and I’m your brother,” I say. I’m nervous and I am aware that this is a really life changing moment.

This moment was over 40 years in the making.

Before he came to Canada in n1973 my father was married to a woman from Marietta. They married in the days immediately following his release from the US federal prison in Atlanta. Car theft was the charge on that one, I think. Their marriage was brief. His wife, Evelyn, gave birth to a son she named after my father on 15 Aug. 1971.

“Your name at birth was Thomas Robert Henderson,” I tell the man, only identified as Robert, on the other end of the line. In Georgia adult adoptees do not have the right to access their original birth certificate and I figure that if our line gets cut off, or I get hit by a meteorite he should at the very least know his original name. I believe everyone has that right.

I’m only hearing my own thoughts. I’m nervous but decide to tune myself out for a moment and treat this conversation like one of the many telephone interviews I do as a journalist. Cool, in control, and a bit disengaged. I ask him about his interests, his family, and life experiences.

He is originally from Georgia but currently lives in Kentucky with his wife and two children who are 13 and 14 years old. He loves hunting, fishing, as well Civil War history. His name is Robert Burton. He was always aware that his original name was Thomas Robert but nobody told him his last name.

He was absolutely delighted to hear from me and is very enthusiastic about the reunion process.

He bears a striking resemblance to our father

I’ve spent a lot of time on the phone with him and I’m getting to know a very interesting, fun, and oddly familiar person. The cultural differences between us are quite pronounced. His accent, lifestyle, and worldview are all a bit different than mine but I have noticed many similar personality traits.
I first found out about him when I sent away for my father’s criminal record in 2002. I was in university and the family I was live with, who wanted me to succeed in life, were worried about me digging into the past. They are good people who did not want to see me sink my roots into a story that would only bring me hurt. “Look ahead,” they said.

Still, the knowledge that I had a brother out there somewhere always nagged at me. I felt that I couldn’t know my own story without knowing at least what happened to my father’s first son.

So, I went through the Georgia Adoption Reunion Registry and applied for contact and requested that they do a search for him. Under Georgia law this was about the only way I could ever get in touch with him as his original birth certificate was “sealed” and I had no way of connecting his original name with an adoption file.

I am incredibly happy to have found him and look forward to getting to know him better over the months and years ahead but I wish I had been able to pull this off while our father and his mother were still alive.

I never knew our father so I couldn’t say much except what I’d heard and read. But I did mail him copies of every document I have on our father as well all of our family photos. I also enclosed some handwritten letters from our father as well as his parents’ original marriage certificate and our father’s glasses.

Robbed of any opportunity to know his father I felt that he should at least have something that once belonged to him – I know my father would have wanted him to have something.

“Robert, here are your father’s glasses,” I write my letter. “When you hold them in your hand try to imagine the kind of father you wished he could have been and be that father to your children and yourself.”

Unfortunately I can’t send him a very happy family history but I think our future looks pretty bright.

I am glad to have found my brother. He’s a good guy.

I just received a big letter from Green Party leader and Saanich – Gulf Islands MP Elizbaeth May! Here’s the photo she sent me of her cats when they were kittens:

Elizabeth May's cats when they were kittens.

Last month my friend Janean sent me a link to a story about a guy who wrote a letter to Stephen Harper to ask about his cats. In response he received a signed letter as well as a photo of Stephen Harper’s cat Stanley. A photo of the letter was posted by Reddit MyLastNameIsHO.

Suffice to say I love cats a heck of a lot more than Stephen Harper and I thought it would be nice to see if other party leaders had cats too so I decided to write a letter to Janean’s MP and Green Party leader Elizabeth May.

25 March 2013

Dear Ms. May,

I am writing this letter as a friendly and light-hearted inquiry about any cats that you may have.

A few days ago my dear friend Janean Sharkey, who also happens to be a wildlife biologist and one of your constituents, posted a link on Facebook about Prime Minister Stephen Harper’s cat. Apparently someone wrote the prime minister to inquire about his cats and Harper replied with a letter and a large glossy photo of his pet.

While I love cats I am not a big fan of Harper or the Conservative Party of Canada. I will, however, admit that I was touched by his expression of affection for his feline companions but feel that there is room for other political cat stories on the Internet.

I don’t know if you currently have a cat but I am writing this letter with the assumption that you like them. After all, would an educated and committed animal person like Janean live in a riding represented by someone who doesn’t? I don’t think so! Hehe.

Would you please send me a photo of your current or former cats? I would also like to know what cats mean to you and why you believe, if you do, that cats are especially important to British Columbians and Canadians. Furthermore, what do you believe our leaders should do to support housecats and their owners? I intend to post your reply on my personal website at www.nathaniel.ca.

I have enclosed a photo of me and my cat Khan which was taken at the Sears portrait studio in 2011. Khan is an eight-year-old diabetic domestic shorthair and he’s pretty much the centre of my life. He loves sushi, cake, houseguests, and the sun lamp. He’s a very friendly and mellow pet who gets along with just about anybody and the vet even describes him as “very Zen.”

Kind regards,

Nathaniel Christopher

The photo I sent to Elizabeth May.

Today I received a reply! In addition to the photo she also sent me a lovely card that she purchased in support of the Western Canada Wilderness Committee as well as really sturdy vinyl photo holder with the House of Commons logo on the front.

The stuff I got from Elizabeth May! The brid on the card is a black-throated green warbler.

This is what she wrote in the card:

Dear Nathaniel,

Thanks so much for your sweet letter. I do love cats. The enclosed photo is of my cats when they were kittens!

Thanks for your photo with Khan.

Elizabeth

Elizabeth's letter to me.

The binder thing that Elizabeth May sent me!

Have you ever had licorice ice cream? It’s my favourite flavour but it’s so darn hard to find so I was absolutely thrilled to learn that my neighbourhood ice cream place, Gleburn Soda Fountain and Confectionary, had just added Licorice Marble ice cream to their menu. I’ve gone there twice this week for a scoop… or two.

Glenburn uses Birchwood Dairy ice cream which has a 16 per cent butterfat content. This means it tastes really good.

Licorice ice cream at Glenburn.

Birchwood describes their licorice marble flavour as “a black licorice flavour based marbled with a dark black licorice.” I thought it was very good. The licorice flavour is on the light side – it’s not overpowering. That being said, it carries a nice blend of flavours that meld well with the cream. The colour is very light and it has a pleasant aftertaste. It’s a definite must for any licorice lover.

My all-time favourite licorice ice cream was produced by Island Farms but they have discontinued it in recent years. They used to sell it in those big 11.4 litre bulk tubs. Back when I was growing up and until about 2010 it was not terribly uncommon to find a gas station or corner store on Vancouver Island that sold it.

It was as black as a slab of cold coal and packed a very potent dose of licorice flavour that just grabbed your taste buds. You had to be careful eating this ice cream if you wearing a white shirt. I hope they bring this flavour back.

Island Farms Licorice ice cream at the Old Country Market in Coombs B.C. 2009.

I still communicate with some people and organizations by mail which means I am frequent visitor to the post office. Unfortunately it’s usually an unpleasant experience on account of the lines and incredibly slow wait times for even the most simple services.

Today, however, I was intrigued to see a pair of self-serve kiosks at Vancouver’s main post office on W. Georgia St. I’ve seen similar machines in the States that dispense stamps but this machine, a Wincor Nixdorf ProPostal 2000 stamp vending kiosk, allows you to weigh parcels as well.

I am quite pleased with how quick and easy it was to send off a parcel to Yukon. – it was as simple to use as a bank machine or one of those self checkouts at the grocery store.

Of course, I do worry that these new self-service kiosks may cost some people their jobs a Canada Post employee if said that it’s too early to tell and the machines are only in a limited number of locations.

Canada Post Kiosk at the main Vancouver post office.

Weighing my package to Whitehorse.

Printing off the stamp and receipt.

My stamp.

In the Sound of Music Mother Abbess tells us through song to climb every mountain. She probably wasn’t referring to actual mountains but I think it’s a powerful message of hope. So, with that song in mind I climbed a mountain today.

Mount Burnaby to be exact. I was feeling a little sluggish this weekend and thought it would be a good idea to bring in the new month and week with a proactive and inspiring excursion.

The triumphant mountain climber!

The end of Hastings.

I live on Capitol Hill in North Burnaby. The main street here, Hastings, begins at Cardero St. in Coal Harbour and runs approximately 12 km to Dalla-Tina Ave. at the foot of Burnaby Mountain. A path from Hastings then continues as the Trans Canada Trail up to the top of the mountain.

I see Burnaby Mountain every day. It greets me every morning like a reliable friend reminding me of the season as well as the time of day. It’s a subtle and unimposing elevation compared to the nearby North Shore Mountains and I have often wondered how hard it would be to just walk up there. So, today that’s exactly what I did.

It was pretty easy.

Looking down on Hastings from the Trans Canada Trail on Burnaby Mountain.The end of Hastings.

Centennial Park on Burnaby Mountain.

Granted, climbing a 370 m mountain is not exactly the most impressive feat. But it’s a mountain nonetheless and the fact that I climbed it empowers me to face some of my life challenges with a bit more confidence and focus.

Burrard Inlet from Burnaby Mountain.

When people ask where I live I always tell them “North Burnaby” as opposed to “Burnaby”.

I love this area and one of the best things about it is the abundance of really cool small businesses along Hastings such as the Glenburn Soda Fountain and Confectionery which opened for business in early March.  I love ice cream more than just about anything and I’m always on the lookout for a quality product. I don’t want gelato, sorbet, or frozen dessert, god damn it! I want ice cream! And yes, Glenburn delivers.

They don’t mess about – they use high quality Birchwood Dairy ice cream which has one of the highest fat contents of any ice cream out there. It’s absolutely delicious and you can taste the difference right away.

Many of their products, including the ice cream, are made in British Columbia and their sauces are made in-house with local fruit. The shop is set up to emulate a mid-century soda fountain complete with chrome appliances, old stools which the owner imported from an actual 1940s diner in the States, and a long counter that reminds me of Woolworth’s.

The ownerss, Robert and Ron LaQuaglia, clearly take pride in their business and the community it serves. And yes, North Burnaby Dairy Queens be warned – you guys have some serious competition!

Glenburn reflects the character of the Burnaby Heights.	70-year-old stools! w00t!
I think these are soda fountains.	My friend Heidi refused to let lactoce intolrance get in the way of ice cream.
Heidi enjoyed a Canadian Mint sundae which contains mint chocolate chip ice cream, hot fudge, and toasted almonds.	I had a vanilla sundae with strawberries. It was delicious!
The menu!

Birthday cake flavour Oreo cookies

The other day I discovered the limited edition birthday cake flavour Oreo cookies at Safeway.

I like Oreos and absolutely love the taste of birthday cake so this was a must-have treat for Nathaniel. When I saw they were on sale for only $2.99 I had to pinch myself and ask if it wasn’t, in fact, my early already.

These cookies are that delicious!

They look just like regular Oreo cookies except there are colourful birthday sprinkles in the icing which tastes just like cake batter. Many bloggers have complained that they are over-sweet but I find that the cake taste really goes well with the chocolate wafer and it all balances out nicely.

They certainly have more kick and pizzazz than the regular Oreo cookies which have a comparatively bland taste. I’ll certainly buy these again and hope they are not just a temporary promotion that will be gone from the shelves in a few months.

Here’s my video review:

I would like to be a more proactive individual.

Over the course of my life there have been many instances when I have decided to do something but never got around to it. I would make a plan in my mind and I had the will to do it but would often get sidetracked by more immediate concerns and eventually let the idea float into oblivion.

I first became conscious of this pattern when I worked at a retirement home kitchen here in Burnaby in 2001. My walk to work took me past the Masonic Cemetery which is crowned by the prominent Woodward Mausoleum. This is the final resting place of Charles Woodward, the founder of the now defunct Woodward’s department store chain as well as members of his family.

The Woodward Mausoleum.

One day I thought it’d be a great idea to take a photo of it and post it to Findagrave.com – an online cemetery database that I contribute to. I had my Kodak Easy Load 35mm camera and a roll of film in my bag. “I could just go up there right now and take the photo,” I thought to myself. “I could drop the film off to be developed during my break and then scan and upload the photos tonight!”

But I didn’t do any of that. I don’t know why. I just carried on with my daily routine and put poor old Mr. Woodward out of my mind. There were no negative consequences of me not taking that photo but I had the ability, desire, tools, time, and resources to carry out the task s so why didn’t I just do it?

From then on that edifice, which I see on a regular basis, became a symbol for all of my plans that died before I even tried to make them happen.

I want to change that. I know I can’t do everything I want to do but I feel there is room in my life to be more proactive in achieving my goals. I don’t know exactly how I’m going to do that but I thought it would be a good first step to go up on that hill, take photos of the mausoleum, and upload them to Findagrave – just like I planned to do over 11 years ago.

Interior of the Woodward Mausoleum.

I took some photos of the tomb’s stone exterior and then attempted to take some photos of the interior through one of the foggy glass windows. I got a few shots of the inside including the tombs of the Woodward family, the intricate tile floor, the stained glass window, and a message of hope.

Above the altar, located at the back of the tomb, there was a marble tablet that read “until the daybreak and the shadows flee away.” That reminded me think that that perhaps, in some small way, I have ushered in a bright day by visiting that tomb and following through with a goal I set 11 years ago.

The inscription above the altar in the mausoleum reads "until the day break and the shadows flee away."

I also managed to take photos of other graves for Findagrave users who had requested photos from that cemetery.

I was having difficulty finding some of the graves so I made my way to a house located within the cemetery where I was greeted by the cemetery’s resident secretary-manager Terry A. Staley. He spent a good half hour dutifully finding the plots on his software, printing out detailed colour maps, and then writing his own notes on precisely where to locate the plots.

Stained glass window inside of the Woodward Mausoleum.

Mr. Staley, a Freemason and former banker, also told me about the cemetery’s history and indulged my curiosity about Freemasonry explaining some of their symbols and philosophies. I got the impression that he, like some of my ancestors, is affiliated with an organization that motivates people to be ever mindful of kindness, duty, and self-discipline.

I enjoyed speaking with Mr. Staley and thank him for helping enrich and fulfill one of my small but personally significant life goals. From now on when I look at that old tomb I’ll think of something more uplifting and empowering.

I would like to with everyone, and their cats, a happy St. Patrick’s Day. But unlike many people I’m not going to overstate my connection to the Republic of Ireland or Northern Ireland. My family left Belfast decades before I was born and I only knew one relative, my great-grandmother, who actually grew up in the “old country”.

Nana, as we called her, liked mint. So do I.

For me St. Patrick’s Day is all about Shamrock Shakes at McDonald’s! Or it was, until this year. I used to get them when I was a kid and recall they were green, minty and delicious. I hadn’t had one in over 10 years so I recently decided it was time to go to McDonald’s and order a Shamrock Shake for Paddy’s sake!
I was terribly disappointed.

Shamrock Shake from McDonald's

Firstly, I forgot that McDonald’s milkshakes have the consistency of paste and feel very heavy in the stomach. They are not easy to drink through a straw and it feels like swallowing plastic. Secondly, there was not nearly enough green food colouring or mint flavour in the shake and they didn’t really bother to mix it in well so it just tasted like a regular vanilla milkshake with the occasional hint of toothpastey mint.

They used to taste so much better.

I was determined to ring in the holiday with a proper Shamrock Shake – McDonald’s or no McDonald’s. So, I went to a nearby Dairy Queen and asked if they could make me a green mint-flavour shake. They said they could and they did. It cost a little bit more than the McDonald’s shake but it tasted so much better.

Both the mint flavour, reminiscent of a mint Aero bar, and the colour were mixed thoroughly with the milk and ice cream to create a consistent flavour and colour. Like all shakes at Dairy Queen it was both light and creamy and easily consumed through a straw. They also add a bit of Cool Whip type topping as well as a cherry.

I have been a journalist for 15 years today.

On this date in 1998 the first issue of the Mind’s Eye, a youth newspaper in my hometown of Nanaimo, British Columbia, was published. I was part of the youth collective that planned and launched a monthly newspaper where youth could express their thoughts and opinions on the issues relevant to their lives.

It is still published today.

The first edition of the Mind's Eye

The Mind’s Eye was created as part of the Primus III Project which was a youth program sponsored by the federal government and Nanaimo Youth Services Association. The four Primus III staff members, Jessica Brochu, Julie Chadwick, Mike Roberts, and Ronit Siegel formed the initial editorial board. I quickly joined them as the first youth volunteer.

Our first meeting took place in 1997 at the Old Firehall Coffee and Roasterie which was in the bottom level of Nanaimo’s old fire hall. I was a penniless 16 year old so Ronit kindly purchased me a muffin. I don’t remember what we discussed but I do recall a sense of exhilaration as though I was living out an episode of “My So-Called Life”. I thought the Mind’s Eye staff were the most interesting and intelligent people who had ever set foot in Nanaimo and I could not get over the fact that that I was chilling with them in a trendy coffee shop.

The first Mind's Eye staff photo. I was wearing a McDonald's uniform underneath my sweater.

At the Mind’s Eye we were free to write and publish almost anything we wanted. Although we targeted the paper to youth it was circulated as an insert in the Nanaimo Daily News which meant that a wide variety of people in our community could get a better understanding of issues facing youth.
We appreciated that opportunity and never shied away from covering sensitive topics with candour and sincerity. In my two years there contributors addressed issues such as the long-term effects of child abuse, eating disorders, growing up in foster care as well as other subjects that are sometimes best described by the people with first-hand experience.

My first business card!

That was a rather tumultuous time in my life. I was transitioning from foster care into an independent living arrangement with my eyes firmly set on graduating and then moving to Vancouver for college or university. While I addressed many topics in my articles I was especially interested in writing about gay and lesbian issues as I experienced a lot of homophobic harassment in Nanaimo.

I was a very thin and effeminate teenager. I wore bright orange clothes and spiked up my dyed-blond hair with a ton of gel and while I loved exploring my own style I soon discovered that I was easily read as gay by people who would hurl insults, rocks, spit, and bottles at me from their cars.

The Nanaimo RCMP didn’t seem too concerned about the issue so in May, 1999 I told my editor Ronit that I intended to interview local politicians and ask them what they were doing to protect and support gay and lesbian youth. Here’s a scan of the article. Unfortunately I don’t have the second page:

I count this article as my most important contribution to the Mind’s Eye. There weren’t many gay and lesbian stories in the local papers and this article, as well as my personal “coming out” story that followed that October, started a local conversation about the plight of Nanaimo’s gay and lesbian youth. After these articles came out I was approached by many supportive adults in the community who affirmed their commitment to supporting gay youth.

We received a lot of letters including this one which was written by Dawn Thompson – a professor at the local university-college. It was published in the May 31, 1999 edition of the Nanaimo Daily News:

I moved on from Nanaimo and the Mind’s Eye in January, 2000 but I still recall my years there as one of the best times of my life. The training and experience I earned at the Mind’s Eye helped me secure jobs in the non-profit sector and journalism. More importantly, it ignited my long-standing passion for journalism and solidified my resolve to follow that path.