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We're No. 1 for animal cruelty - Friday, June 18, 2010
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Freedom cycle - Monday, June 21, 2010
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A history of meat - Friday, June 18, 2010
Nick Sibbeston
Working together for the North - Monday, May 31, 2010
John B. Zoe
Happy Dad's day - Monday, June 21, 2010
Harry Maksagak
Medical travel with mom teaches patience - Monday, June 21, 2010
Cece Hodgson-McCauley
A tale from an admirer - Monday, June 21, 2010
Phil Moon Son
Business Matters - Monday, June 21, 2010
Antoine Mountain
Stories from Kahbamiue Tue - Monday, June 21, 2010
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'Right to work' - Wednesday, June 9, 2010
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Cambridge Bay Tea Talk - Monday, June 21, 2010


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John Zoe

Happy Dad's day

John B. Zoe
Guest columnist
Monday, June 21, 2010

Previous columns 

There are many things we do because there is a good reason at the time; sometimes actions are more powerful than words. We all have hills to climb, sometimes for personal reasons or just because it is a good thing to do; a feel good exercise. Looking out from the top of a hill sometimes gives a view farther beyond ground level.

Back in the 1960s, my father took me with him to James Lake for fall fishing. We stayed on an island and my father checked the nets by himself, while I stayed on land. The canoe could not hold more than one passenger with the fish. I kept myself busy, cutting larger willows into three-foot lengths, and shaved the points to make fish sticks.

When my father came back from the nets, he would poke a hole on the tail end of the fish with a knife. I would take each fish and impale 10 fish per stick for whitefish, fewer if it was jackfish. Then they would be hung on racks to be picked up in the early winter with the dog team. The stick fish were for the dogs for the winter as well as for trapping and hunting expeditions.

While I waited for my father to return with another canoe load of fish, I would continue cutting willows, and look for gravel for my slingshot. There were no rocks of any sort, just willows, birch and black spruce. The slingshot gave me comfort, despite the lack of rocks in the pouch.

Then, one day, out of the blue, my father said we will climb to the top of the nearby hill to look around. I was happy, it would be a good opportunity to look for rocks for my slingshot. We paddled across the lake and climbed. Upon reaching the summit, he found a place to sit with his rifle and started to look over the lakes. The slingshot-sized rocks were pretty scarce and it took a while to fill both pockets.

Soon we were on our way down, the nets still had to be checked and stick fish to be hung. I could now walk the island cutting willows, with the slingshot loaded, waiting to shoot something.

My father knew what he was doing, and, in hindsight, I realized over time he had no reason to climb the hill, except to give me an opportunity to pick rocks. Over the years, when Father's Day comes around, this story would always pop into my head.

The act of what we do today can have far-reaching effects on youngsters, such as their ability to visualize beyond what our eyes can today. Happy Father's Day.

  • John B. Zoe is the former executive officer with the Tlicho government and a former land claims negotiator. He holds an honorary doctorate of law.