Shocked. That’s the only way I can describe my feelings when editor Kelsey Klassen called to inform me that this week's Westender will be its last issue. Ever.
How could that be possible? This is an arts, entertainment and community newspaper that has been serving our city over a span of 68 years. 68 years!
Doing the math, that means this venerable little mission launched in 1949, back when someone named Louis St-Laurent was our prime minister, a guy named Boss Johnson was our premier and Chuck Jones was our mayor.
You’ll recall that Newfoundland became our 10th province in 1949, but did you know that in the same year the largest earthquake in Canadian history struck off of Haida Gwaii, and the first tree was planted in what would become Queen Elizabeth Park?
Back then, this fledgling Westender weekly represented a neighbourhood on the downtown peninsula comprised of mostly single detached homes. Imagine that. Over the decades during which the Westender reported, the neighbourhood would morph and tower into one of the most densely populated and diverse in North America.
At one time or another, most people who have called Vancouver home have lived in the West End, myself included. The Westender was our welcome portal into the comings and goings of that crazy, transient and ever-bustling neighbourhood. Opening the Westender’s rustling pages each week, I loved the Rants and Raves, the theatre and movie reviews, Rob Joyce’s wildly verbose real estate ads, and the utterly voyeuristic Our Digs column (created by former editor Carlyn Yandle, whose column did what we all secretly desired: peek inside other people’s apartments).
Former editor Tom Zillich slapped my band the Smugglers on the cover of the Westender back in 2000 for our first-ever headlining gig at the Commodore Ballroom. It’s an honour I’ll never forget. I landed on the cover myself in 2011 for a story on CBC Radio 3 by former Westender writer-turned-music journalist-turned-author Andrea Warner, who now works at CBC Music.
Three years ago, it was former editor Rob Mangelsdorf who invited me to become a columnist for the Westender. It was a dream come true for someone who religiously read this paper ever since moving into that shitbox ground floor apartment at the corner of Haro and Broughton.
Together, Rob and I created “Vancouver Shakedown.” Ever since, I’ve had the distinct privilege of sharing your stories, not only from the West End but from every pocket of the city, rich or poor, for better or worse.
Some of my favourite subjects were dishing the dirty truth on Vancouver real estate, challenging the slave trade-like practices of our soggy circus sideshow otherwise known as the Vancouver Aquarium, parenthood from the perspective of an Old Dad™, building East Van’s ultimate backyard rink during our record cold snap, blowing smoke up the history of West 4th Avenue’s hippie heyday, and sharing the story of my friend who’s been on more than 200 dates in two years. I hoped it would never end. (This column, not Ashley’s dating… I wish her true love, stat!)
Therein lies one of the ironies of our human condition: We love routine, but change is constant, and for the Westender, after 68 valiant years of routinely reflecting who we are and who we’ve been, change is now.
I just wish I had written about the cows-in-Burrard Inlet story. Another time, another place.
Until we meet again. It’s been my honour to be part of this Westender legacy. Thank you for reading.
