Journal Stories From The 2000's

L.U. No. 230 Victoria, B.C.
Editor:

Vancouver Island, the stamping ground of the members of Local No. 230, is known far and wide as a hunter’s paradise, abounding in feathered game, deer, and the black bear; and cougars are so numerous and destructive to sheep that it is only in favored districts that ranchers are able to escape their depredations. The cougars are especially destructive to farm stock, as they kill for the love of killing, and one cougar will often destroy a whole flock of sheep.

At one time the government paid a bounty of $50 a head on these big, overgrown cats. This was afterwards reduced to $40, at which figure hunters with trained dogs made good money. Under the stress of economy the government next cut this sum in half and finally wiped it out altogether, so now shall go “poosie hunting” no more, and the poor ranchers will suffer accordingly.

The majority of our linemen here are good hunters, and as they are working “short time” again, they quite naturally spend some of their time in the woods, and have been quite successful in bringing home deer, which make a welcome addition to the home larder.

The last time Brother “Smiling Charlie” Bradshaw went out he got the thrill of his young life. He was in the woods with one shell left in his gun. His dog put up a deer and Charlie just got a fleeting shot at it. Putting his empty up against a stump he went to investigate the result of his shot, but finding no traces he concluded his shot had missed. All at once his dog started an excited yip yapping and suddenly a big black bear burst through the bushes like a runaway freight on a down grade, straight towards him. Charlie says he doesn’t think the bear saw him at all, but in desperation, to save himself from being run over, he caught the overhanging limb of a tree, and was pulling himself up, when the limb broke and he landed kerflop right in front of the bear. He doesn’t know which was most surprised and scared, but Bruin stopped short in his tracks, rose up on his hind legs and gave one startled “woof,” which in bear language means, “what in the h____ now?” wheeled like a flash and tore away in another direction, while Charlie made a bee line for his car. I’ll bet he said, “Ford, do your best,” and exceeded the speed limit all the way home. Were you smiling Charlie?

Local No. 230’s social committee, Brothers Sid Neville and Shorty Haines, are putting on a dance and card game next Wednesday night for the purpose of bringing the members and their families together and getting them better acquainted, so we hope to have a good attendance.

The October WORKER should be read by everyone interested in labor’s cause. It puts forth in a masterly way, which must challenge the attention of all thinking men and women, the just demands which labor is making on the vested interests, and hats off to our International Officers for their ability and painstaking care in the preparation of our JOURNAL and who are responsible for its great success.

Shappy.



	Published in November 1932 - I.B.E.W. Journal L.U. No. 230 Victoria, B.C. Editor: Vancouver Island, the stamping ground of the members of Local No. 230, is known far and wide as a hunter’s paradise, abounding in feathered game, deer, and the black bear; and cougars are so numerous and destructive to sheep that it is only in favored districts that ranchers are able to escape their depredations. The cougars are especially destructive to farm stock, as they kill for the love of killing, and one cougar will often destroy a whole flock of sheep. At one time the government paid a bounty of $50 a head on these big, overgrown cats. This was afterwards reduced to $40, at which figure hunters with trained dogs made good money. Under the stress of economy the government next cut this sum in half and finally wiped it out altogether, so now shall go “poosie hunting” no more, and the poor ranchers will suffer accordingly. The majority of our linemen here are good hunters, and as they are working “short time” again, they quite naturally spend some of their time in the woods, and have been quite successful in bringing home deer, which make a welcome addition to the home larder. The last time Brother “Smiling Charlie” Bradshaw went out he got the thrill of his young life. He was in the woods with one shell left in his gun. His dog put up a deer and Charlie just got a fleeting shot at it. Putting his empty up against a stump he went to investigate the result of his shot, but finding no traces he concluded his shot had missed. All at once his dog started an excited yip yapping and suddenly a big black bear burst through the bushes like a runaway freight on a down grade, straight towards him. Charlie says he doesn’t think the bear saw him at all, but in desperation, to save himself from being run over, he caught the overhanging limb of a tree, and was pulling himself up, when the limb broke and he landed kerflop right in front of the bear. He doesn’t know which was most surprised and scared, but Bruin stopped short in his tracks, rose up on his hind legs and gave one startled “woof,” which in bear language means, “what in the h____ now?” wheeled like a flash and tore away in another direction, while Charlie made a bee line for his car. I’ll bet he said, “Ford, do your best,” and exceeded the speed limit all the way home. Were you smiling Charlie? Local No. 230’s social committee, Brothers Sid Neville and Shorty Haines, are putting on a dance and card game next Wednesday night for the purpose of bringing the members and their families together and getting them better acquainted, so we hope to have a good attendance. The October WORKER should be read by everyone interested in labor’s cause. It puts forth in a masterly way, which must challenge the attention of all thinking men and women, the just demands which labor is making on the vested interests, and hats off to our International Officers for their ability and painstaking care in the preparation of our JOURNAL and who are responsible for its great success. Shappy.