War brides overcame harsh, unexpected conditions to build new life

There were times in the early days when Rose Lindsay would lie awake at night and think: why don't you just get up and walk out to the highway and catch a bus and go somewhere?

And yes, there was a time only a few years after the young English war bride settled into her new life in rural Manitoba that her mother would visit and, appalled by the living conditions, try to take her back home.

But those are old memories now, lost in time and a life that has given the 87-year-old a large and successful family -- four children, 11 grandchildren and 10 great-grandchildren -- and a chance to see more of the world than she might have otherwise.

"It wasn't easy, but in the long run it worked out pretty well," Lindsay recently recalled. "It's pretty rough around Christmas."

First family of soccer

Christine and Cavan O'Connor were just 22 and 26 years old when they arrived in Winnipeg from Manchester, England, in 1974 with 13 pieces of luggage, their two-year-old son and a dream.

That, and their devotion to the sport of soccer, was all they needed to make Winnipeg their home.

"They made us so welcome in Winnipeg. There were so many programs in Canada at that time to help newcomers," Cavan said.

The O'Connors lived in the Marlborough Hotel for two weeks. But "within six months, we were living in a new house, our mortgage was subsidized for five years (by the Canadian government.) And it was lower than rent."

A new beginning

ABIGAIL Greaves was 13 when her parents called her and little brother Thomas together for a family meeting in their home in Devon, England.

"They sat us down and said 'We might be immigrating to Canada.' " That was in 2007. Today, at 18, Greaves remembers being happy and relieved.

"I didn't really like the school I was at. It was a boarding school. Here was the chance to move somewhere completely different."

Her self-employed parents were also seeking change. They ran a personal security service transporting young offenders to and from court, she said.

British cars shine

Although Manitoba's classic and special-interest car community is primarily made up of folks with a penchant for vehicles built in North America, there are a growing number of enthusiasts in the local vintage car hobby who absolutely adore British cars.

If you're a regular at the many car shows held each summer throughout the province, you've surely spotted a variety of these imported gems from British manufacturers that include Triumph, Austin Healey, Jaguar, Mini, MG, Austin and even the ultra-luxurious Rolls-Royce brand.

A great majority of our local British car enthusiasts are members of car clubs dedicated to the preservation and enjoyment of these rare and often extremely valuable machines. Local clubs include the Triumph Drivers Club of Manitoba, the Mid-Canada Mini Group, Austin Healey Club of Manitoba and the Jaguar Club of Manitoba.

Thomas Struthers, a member of the Triumph Drivers Club of Manitoba, fondly remembers driving his Triumph TR4 year-round in the mid-1960s, an early start on an extensive collection. Although he got out of the hobby for a few years, he returned with a bang. His collection now includes a number of British imports including a fleet of Austin Healeys as well as MG, Triumph and Jaguar models.

Chamber-made

He helped bust one of the world's biggest rock stars -- Rolling Stone Mick Jagger -- and spent more than two decades spying on spies and terrorists for the RCMP and CSIS.

Those aren't the kind of entries people might expect to see on the resume of the president of the Manitoba Chambers of Commerce. But then again, Graham Starmer is not your typical business leader.

That's because the 63-year-old native of Oxford, England, spent the first 27 years of his working life as a police officer and spy catcher, first in his homeland, and then in his adopted country, Canada.

It wasn't until 1998, after several years working as an investigator for the Manitoba Ombudsman's Office, that he morphed into a briefcase-toting business leader.

British country house anchors social satire

When a British country house sits at centre stage, you can usually bet that the work in question -- on stage, screen or paper -- isn't just about real estate.

That is certainly the case in this supernatural social satire by Britain's Sadie Jones (winner of the Costa First Book Award for her 2008 novel The Outcast).

In The Uninvited Guests, the Torrington-Swift family lives in Edwardian splendour in a beautiful, rambling house called Sterne.

But as we learn right away, Sterne is built on a financial foundation of sand and is on the verge of being sold to pay off family debts. And before long we can see that the seemingly timeless way of life represented by the house is about to be swept away by the tides of war and revolution.

Long lives the Queen — in her heart

When Jane Burpee moved from England to Canada 45 years ago, she brought a bit of Britain with her -- in her luggage and in her heart.

"It's just an ongoing admiration of the Royal Family."

Since the age of 9, she's been collecting scrapbooks about the Royal Family, starting with clippings about the globe-trotting Queen Elizabeth II that taught her geography.

This year, she's helping Winnipeggers celebrate the Queen's 60th anniversary on the throne.

Independent Scotland — rich or poor?

IN THE debate over whether Scotland should be independent, each side has for years lobbed economic grenades at the other. The pro-independence Scottish National Party (SNP) broke into mainstream politics in the 1970s with the slogan, "It's Scotland's Oil." Alex Salmond, Scotland's first minister and SNP leader, calls it "larceny" that revenues from oil and gas production, most of which comes from Scottish waters, have stuffed London's coffers for 40 years. George Osborne, Britain's chancellor, retorts that Scotland would be the poorer for secession.

So would an independent Scotland be an impoverished backwater or a land flowing with oil and money? A precise answer is impossible, since Whitehall does not count all of Britain's revenue and spending streams by geography. But a close reading of the figures suggests an answer, which is less dramatic than either staunch nationalists or unionists might hope.

Scotland's accounts of revenue and expenditure, based on Treasury data, show that it is not a ward of the state, grossly subsidized from Westminster. In fact, it performs better than all regions outside the southeast of England and has done particularly well in the past decade. In 2010-11, Scotland's GDP was $225 billion including a geographical share of North Sea oil and gas, around 10 per cent of Britain's, with 8.4 per cent of the population.

You’ve got to accent-uate the positive

I was having a business conversation with a woman I did not know from Eve recently. We had been talking for a few minutes when she said: "I love the sound of your voice and could listen to you all day."

I like to think it was the content of my conversation of which she was enamoured. But I know from long experience that often it is not what I say that people hear, but rather how I say it.

I immigrated to Canada at age 26 from Scotland in 1986 and have now lived an equal amount of time in both countries. What brought me to Canada was a job offer. I never had to struggle to find the elusive job without English proficiency. I quickly was made aware that I have a Scottish accent and frequently was told to "say that again" or asked "what did you say?"

As time passes, you either realize it is best to slow down your pace of speech or live with puzzled comments and blank looks.

Bagpipes make it ‘feel like you’re in Scotland’

It was easily one of the proudest moments of my life.

It was May 2007, and I was standing on a stage at the convention centre along with my buddy Brad Oswald, the Free Press's television writer.

Brad and I were co-hosting the National Newspaper Awards, which are the Oscars of the newspaper business, and we were pretty pumped up.

But the reason I felt so proud, the thing that overwhelmed my fatherly emotions, was the fact Brad and I had been piped on stage by my then 20-year-old son and one of his buddies from the award-winning St. Andrew's Society of Winnipeg Pipe Band.