A year ago I was a SAIT photojournalism graduate living in Kelowna B.C. working a dead-end job when I got a call from the Times-Herald, decided to pick everything up and hit the road. It’s hard to imagine what the past year would have been like had I not taken that job.
Between mountain biking and the rest, I lived a lifestyle that never had me far from the mountains. As such, I never planned to stay in Moose Jaw for long, but before I even got half way I wondered if I would make it there at all.
After a lot of praying — that desperate kind you do when things are going really bad whether you’re religious or not— my 1989 Ford Ranger, Lisa, limped into Moose Jaw, but not before spraying 14 litres of transmission fluid onto the TransCanada Highway.
Regardless of my automotive misfortune, the whole experience was new and refreshing. It was an adventure.
I didn’t know anyone here, I had no connections, nothing to hold me back from doing whatever I wanted to and I also had no bed.
For the first two weeks, I slept on the floor of an unfinished suite and lived off mostly Nutella and Pizza Pops.
It was the good life, the kind of memory I’ll dust off when my future children complain about not being able to have the latest Apple device of the future for their birthday.
It wasn’t long though before the open skies and endless fields filled with nothing started getting to me. It was almost like a switch turned on and all of a sudden I realized really how far I was in what my college mates called The Void — that is Saskatchewan. However, sometime in between then and receiving a ton of bread from local fan and Times-Herald reader, Dale Jackman, things started to change for me. And I guess you could say it was Surprisingly Unexpected.
To make a short story shorter, I made friends with some amazing people. Musicians, carpenters, health care workers, students, hairdressers, labourers, teachers and more — people from all different walks of life and parts of the world who for whatever reason somewhere along the way managed to find themselves in The Void at the same time I did and I couldn’t be more thankful for them.
I had this idea of Moose Jaw being somewhat absent of anything good. As a friend joked recently, the place people go to “ because everybody needs a lull.”
However, despite what I had initially gathered about the place based on its location — in the middle of nowhere — I had come to realize and accept that Moose Jaw doesn’t really have anything to offer people like me except for great friends, and that’s enough.
But that’s also what makes it hard to leave.
During my tenure at the Times-Herald, I’ve had to cover an array of events and meet a wide variety of people. I’ve had to pretend I know things about politics and that I care about quilting. I’ve met people who have tried to make a living doing back-flips and people who thought they were an ex-CIA Jesus. Still, no matter how weird my assignment sheet got or how far out of my element I was, the most enjoyable part of my job has always been just meeting the interesting people of this Friendly City.
So as I take a step of faith entering into a job that will bring me back to the now snowy peaks of British Columbia, I will always remember this time I’ve had in Moose Jaw and the people who made it worth staying here even when I was ready to pack up my few belongings and go back home.
In honour of Times-Herald lifer, fellow reporter and Star-Trek junkie, Carter Haydu, live long and prosper, Moose Jaw. You truly are a healthy city with a healthy future — mayor Glenn Hagel says so.
