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Wednesday, September 6, 2000 THE OAKVILLE BEAVER B1 F O U R T H L IN E A U T O N A TU RE' For A ll Your Car's Needs Drive Clean Emission Testing Government Safety Inspection Tune-Ups · Brakes · Exhaust * Cooling Systems CAA Approved Shop 559 Speers Road 842*3001 In Business In Oakville Since 1979 OFFICIAL MEDIA SPONSOR OF THE OAKVILLE WATERFRONT FESTIVAL Focus O aJunilles [W ate*fn>n£T e tftv a l' special Greens + 2 5 5 c Trafalgar Bldgs Plaza £ > D 5 -2 5 7 -J £ > 5 £ Hwm:>l«hfTl10-9»S«tUK«»w114 Oakville Beaver Focus Editor: WILMA BL0KHUIS 845-3824 Ext: 250; Fax: 337-5567; Email: blokhuis@haltonsearch.com Beaver Community Editor celebrates 25th anniversary By Barb Joy SPECIAL TO THE BEAVER I n the 19 years I've known Oakville Beaver Community Editor Wilma Blokhuis, I can't remember anyone who pronounced her name correctly. It isn't Blok-house. In plain Dutch, it's Blok-high-ss. But that never seemed to mat ter to Wilma. I can't remember her ever correcting anyone -- including me. Whichever way it's pronounced, the name is a familiar one to Oakville Beaver readers. The by-line has been attached to so many stories in the newspaper over the past 25 years that, if put end to end, they would paper thousands of walls -- large ones at that. Their subjects range from David Milgaard's innocence to the straightening of her own teeth. Some community groups like the United Way have rec ognized her writing contributions in the form of plaques. Others, like the ones on ethnic law, seniors hiking the Bruce Trail and on the history of Bronte, have brought awards from the Ontario Community Newspapers Association. "I wrote the hiking one in 20 minutes," she said. "Some stories write themselves. Others you sweat over." Numerous plaques are great but recognition can come in subtler ways, as her co-worker, Rod Jerred, can tell you. "After she's done stories on them, I get calls from people saying it's the best and most complete (of any they've had done)," said the Beaver's managing editor. "She keeps her impressions of the people she interviews out of it and seems to write how the people see themselves. I don't think there were ever any complaints about Wilma's stories." This admirable work ethic may have had something to do with her background. Bom in Holland in 1951 (she came to Canada two years later) she was the second youngest of nine children. Her father had a penchant for not staying in one place for long and frequently moved his family around south central Ontario. She moved too many times to make friends in any of the five elementary and three high schools she attended. It was hard on the girl who, like any young person, craved peer companionship. "It was pretty tough. Too many moves," she said. "It was n't until Grade 12 at E.L. Crossley Secondary School in Photo by Barrie Erskine Fonthill that I developed friendships." Oakville Beaver Community Editor Wilma Blokhuis (right) and long-time friend Joan Gibb hold her 2000 Halton Woman of the Year But underneath the loneliness, there seemed to be a tough nomination certificate. competitive core that showed itself in elementary school in a keen desire to succeed. As a track and field team member, she often came in second to a stronger girl. "I could beat her in everyday events, but in a special event, I couldn't," she said. "That bothered me a bit." For whatever reason, she learned to do a job responsibly, independently and very well indeed. Jerred remembered the day when Shell House caught fire. With no one else in the newsroom to cover the story, he called on Wilma. "She went after it like a bull dog," said Jerred. "She got comments not only from police and fire people, but also from local historians and others. She did a completely thor ough job of it -- far beyond what I expected." I can vouch for that. One day, Wilma and I were sent out to cover the closure of a plastic factory, she to get "the facts" and I for human interest material. She chased the boss down for comments, then we went back to the office to write the stories. As I sat there pondering what to put on paper, she furiously dashed out a full-length detailed account of the clo sure, all spilling from a well-trained memory and her notes. Beside her, I felt totally inadequate. Skills like these aren't easy to come by, but Wilma started early. After the devastating loss of her mother, the 10-yearold buried herself in reading newspapers, especially a col umn written by Bill Doole, publisher of the Brampton Conservator & Times. A two-year course in journalism at Sheridan College (she graduated in 1973 with honours) proved her a self-described "diligent student.' "I challenged myself to get assignments handed in on time, even it was for 9 the next morning," she said. Doole, then editor/publisher of the Erin Advocate near Georgetown, was the magnet that drew her to a summer job there. She then found work with the weekly Orillia Wednesday Nighter, a small independent paper whose owner was difficult to deal with. "He went through eight editorial people in one year," said Wilma. "I was there for six months." As the only reporter/photographer there, she found her self driving a good hour to Staynor in her little red Toyota to get a mere half-page ad processed. She said the Wednesday Nighter had no facilities for hot metal processing and, of course, it would never do to ask its competitor, the Orillia Packet & Times, to do it. Yet it was the Packet people who cornered Wilma after a late council meeting one night to ask her to come on board. Although it had a good reputation, The Packet was a Thompson paper, noted among employees for its tight-fist edness. Wilma soon discovered how true it was. "If you wanted a new pencil, you had to turn in your stub by," she said. "The notebook was a cardboard back with sheets of newsprint cut to size which you had to staple together yourself. I used a clipboard which I had to supply." Her general assignment duties saw her working many evenings and weekends as well as days, all at a starting salary of under $ 100 a week. After a year and a half, she was hauling down a "top salary" of $140. It was offered her because her boss found out she was thinking of leaving, as indeed she was. Her best friend and co-worker, Heather MacDonald (now MacDonald Archer) was getting married and leaving the paper. Wilma, afraid of being left alone in Orillia with no friends, decided to make a move. One of her resumes ended up in the Inland Publishing pool where Bill Leeder, publisher of the Oakville Beaver, saw it. Leeder knew what Thompson personnel thought about stealing staff away from them and so, fearing a mes sage wouldn't get to Wilma, he passed himself off as "an old boyfriend." And so she became the newest editorial recruit replacing Nancy Middaugh who had left to work at a new paper called Guelph Life. In 1975, the Beaver on Church Street was a comparatively small enterprise in a small town. The two-sec tion paper had an editorial staff of four plus one photograph er. Wilma found a pleasant bachelor apartment nearby and settled down with "the big happy family" at the Beaver. Over her 25 years with the paper, she's grown with it. The loneliness of those early years gradually dissipated. But an unhappy 2 1/2-year marriage that saw her moving around again in the early 80s dissolved into a determination to stay in Oakville. It's a town she admires for its history, architec(S e e `P le n ty ' p a g e B 2)