Polynose Genealogy

The word ‘Influencer’ has certainly lost its charm over the years. Today, social media platforms where people are judged on how many likes they get have forever distorted the definition. I, however, have chosen to use a more traditional definition for this blog and for the person about whom I will write. This story is about a person who influenced his community, his church, countless students’ lives, and his family. This story is about my father, Lou Power.  

Before I was even a teen, my father was so involved in our community —wearing flowing robes on Sunday and banging a gavel on other days of the month— that a neighbourhood kid said “Isn’t your dad like the Pope or something?”. We had a good laugh! Of course he wasn’t, but he was as valuable to our community, in many ways, as the iron ore was to the island on which he grew up.  This is his story.

Reverend Priests & Hockey Gods

My father, as mentioned in a previous post, was born on Bell Island, Newfoundland in 1939, the son of James F. Power (1911-1992), a machinist with the local iron ore mining company, and Kathleen Myers (1913-1963) a busy homemaker who died much too soon.  My dad was the third eldest of nine children, just an average-sized family for that time period in Newfoundland.  As a youth, my father was exposed to great leaders both growing up on Bell  Island and later in St. John’s. My father’s passion as a youth was the sport of hockey, and on Bell Island the line between sport and religion was blurred. 

A great multi-generational influencer in both disciplines, the Rev. Monsignor Bartlett believed in the power of sport to develop skills in youth and strengthen the broader community. (The arena on Bell Island today, which was built at the urging of Mons. Bartlett in 1956, still bears his name.) It was Dad’s exposure to both hockey and Mons. Bartlett that ultimately provided him an opportunity to further his education at St. Bon’s College in St. John’s for Grade XII, a costly venture that his parents would not have been able to afford.  His hockey talents made him a star on the school’s hockey team but there may have been an expectation that he would be recruited into the Christian Brothers as well. Thankfully the latter didn’t happen or I wouldn’t be here.  

Dad’s success in hockey in St. John’s —winning junior city championships with both St. Bon’s and St. Pat’s and being selected to the St. John’s Junior Caps All-star Team— exposed him to great coaches/leaders like Neil Amadio and Howie Meeker.  Amadio was one of the best coaches to ever be involved in Newfoundland hockey and is said to have his name on almost every trophy in the province.  And Meeker, of course, former NHL hockey star and coach, won Rookie of the Year  and eventually coached the Toronto Maple Leafs before coming to Newfoundland.

One newspaper of those times said Dad got more enjoyment assisting others than scoring himself. A little bit of foreshadowing in that statement maybe.

Success in hockey in St. John’s translated into great exposure for my dad and opened doors that would help him throughout his life, including his first accounting job. (He would eventually spend 60 years in the accounting field, of which 30 years were taken up teaching accounting to students at the Trades College in St. John’s (Now called College of the North Atlantic).)

My father’s exposure to ethical, principled, assertive leaders in his youth provided him with great examples and principles upon which to build his life. This foundation instilled in him a belief that no matter who you are and where you come from, you can positively influence others with your actions. And when he became an adult, he embodied those beliefs and took action.

Guiding Principles (In Emergency Break Glass)

My dad’s influence started at home, of course. Some of my father’s favourite influential sayings/philosophies for us kids were: 

1) Always work twice as hard as the other guy to help ensure your success.

2) Help out those that are less fortunate than you.

3) Give thanks to the guy upstairs for everything you have.

4) Never do anything that makes you concerned when the doorbell or phone rings, a.k.a Do the Right Thing! (Newfoundland was hardly a scary place in those days but I got the point —even though there were plenty of times as a kid where I had reason to be concerned when either of those bells rang.) 

5) And my favourite, which kind of goes against a lot of his other guidance —or maybe it was the magnifier effect— “No more powerful man, than a man with a LEVER”.  (I am sure he meant, as long as the other 4 things above were taken care of first.) 🤭

I think the last two came about as he faced the realities of the world he had to work within.  But for me, they were the most memorable and useful in my life and career. 

Hockey – Cold Rinks & Championship Teams

Knowing the power of sport to impact youth, my first experience with Dad’s influence came in the area of minor hockey.  When I was starting grade one, my family moved into the small Newfoundland farming town of Goulds.  By that time, we were a family of 5, which included 3 young boys under the age of 8.  My parents had their hands full.  However, given my father’s successful amateur hockey career in St. John’s, he began investigating options for my older brother and I to take up the sport. He very quickly found out that there was no organized hockey for kids in town. Having seen the personal benefit  of hockey, and given the growing size of the community, he just knew that we needed our own league.  New in town, but taking  the initiative, he sought out other influential, and sports-minded adults in town —specifically a man named John Dinn— and together they formed the first Goulds Minor Hockey Association.

Given my Dad’s accounting background, he took on the Treasurer role, which he held for several years.  Having had the benefit of some of the greatest coaches the province had ever seen, my father also began coaching, usually the teams my brother or I played on. By the time I was 13, our peewee hockey team became the first Goulds team to win a provincial title. It wasn’t triple A at that stage in the league’s development but I know my father was proud handing out trophies to one of his sons at the end of the year banquet.

Public Service – Landslides & Library Cards

Through his involvement in minor hockey, my father was exposed to a broad group of the town’s population and was looking for more opportunities to help.  When I was just 9 years old, Dad decided to run for a 4 year position on the town’s municipal council.  He was successfully elected to the position and began working with other members of the council  to make Goulds a better place to live. After two years as councillor, the mayor’s job was vacated and a bi-election was going to be held to fill this position. Even though my dad already had plenty on his plate — seeing an opportunity to take on more responsibility and have more influence on the priorities and direction of the local government— he jumped at the chance. Vacating his councillor’s position, he ran for mayor. The day after the election, even though the newspapers’ reporting of the results got it wrong, my dad won by a landslide against the only other contender.

One of my father’s greatest accomplishments during his time on council, in my opinion, was getting a

public library for the town. Before this was opened, there was no library in town, outside of the one at the school —which was not available to the public and closed after 3pm. In those days —pre internet and computers for most— this meant research for school papers and books for young children was very limited. After the two year term as mayor, my father decided against running again, having had enough of the underbelly of local politics. Did I mention these were also volunteer based roles?  But with his efforts on the library front, he was asked to join the Regional Library Board, which was focused on putting smaller libraries in towns around the Avalon Peninsula, expanding Dad’s ability to influence other towns.

Church – Flowing Robes & Badminton Courts

We were a church going family and during the early days of being in the town, my father became a Eucharistic Minister. In those days, that meant wearing a long white robe and  handing out communion at church on Sundays.  (Note: Now you might be able to see how a person who was town mayor and wearing the robes on Sunday might be confused with being the Pope.)

Never one to just dip his toe into something, the next thing I know, Dad was the Chair of the Parish Council and the Finance Committee.  This role involved fund raising and managing/spending the parish  funds to support the church and do things like renovations and expansion of the church and Parish Hall.

Given the size of the town, there were limited options for activities for the youth outside of organized sports, which not all families could afford.  So, while in this role, my father supported the funding of, and volunteered to set up, a youth activity program at the Parish Hall. On certain nights of the week, kids could come to the hall for free to play various sports like floor hockey, badminton, basketball etc.  As I remember it, it was a great success.

New Schools – Bucket Brigades & Leveraging Lawyers

Back in that timeframe Newfoundland had a denominational school system, which meant schools were based on religion.  Goulds had a large and growing Catholic population attending St. Kevin’s for grades Kindergarten to 11, and the size and condition of the existing school had not kept pace. By the time we moved in, there was an ever-expanding labyrinth of portable classrooms attached to the main building, in order to accommodate the influx of families with young children.  

With two young children at the school and two more coming behind them —and not one to sit idly by and be a spectator to the deplorable conditions at the school— my Dad jumped in with both feet and became President of the Parent-Teachers Association (PTA) at our school. He began lobbying the School Board for a new school without much success.  When the cacophony of water hitting various sized buckets in classrooms, from leaks in the ceiling, sounded more like a musical instrument than a place of learning, my Dad had had enough. (See number 5 on his sayings above.) He brought a local newspaper journalist into the school to see the conditions and even spoke to the radio and television media.  Eventually he took a 3 foot long piece of rotted wood from the trim of a portable doorway and brought it to a School Board meeting in a garbage bag before dropping it on the table in protest. The school board agreed to a new school for the town and on January 5th, 1981 a brand new Elementary school and gymnasium was opened in the town. (The board tried reneging on the gymnasium at one point but you can probably imagine how that went down.) We had only been in the town for 7 years and the impact my father had was obvious.

My father eventually moved on from the local PTA to sit on the Regional Catholic School Board in St. John’s. Goulds continued to expand and eventually the existing Goulds high school was no longer meeting the needs of the population. The town was on the board’s list for a new high school, until it mysteriously dropped from the list without notice.  It didn’t pass the sniff test for my father, so when all meaningful diplomatic efforts to re-secure funding were unsuccessful, plan B was initiated (see rule 5 above)…legal action.  Knowing that a Catholic lawyer in St. John’s would never take on a case against the Catholic School Bd —for fear of blackballing (did I mention the power of the church in Newfoundland)— my father sought out a Protestant lawyer, that he had worked with early in his career. A strongly worded letter was written that threatened to take the Catholic School Board to court over the issue. Those letters were personally hand delivered to the homes of every member of the Catholic School Board by my father —just like the opening scene of Michael Collins movie…without the guns of course. Well, that got the attention of the Catholic Archbishop, who had enough legal and PR problems at that time , so eventually the situation was resolved without taking the issue further.  A new high school was opened in the town in 1990.

Education: Square Caps & Fishing Nets

My father understood the importance of education at a young age.  Although there were jobs aplenty in the mining industry when he was growing up on Bell Island, my grandfather consistently told his kids, “Forget about any idea of going into the mine. You are staying in school and that’s that!” —it might have been shortened to “You’re NOT goin’ into it!”.

As a result of his upbringing, solid education and getting good grades at school was also drilled into us children. For some of us, who didn’t fully get the point, that meant at times hockey bags weren’t taken out of the basement for a few weeks in the winter. Like that lawyer letter from above, it got my attention pretty quickly. 

In the 1960’s a University education wasn’t required for many areas of work, so my father started his career without one. Over time however,  he realized the benefits that it would bring, and the example it would set for his children. So while doing all the things above, and many, many more, he pursued his Education degree at Memorial University of Newfoundland (MUN), graduating with his Bachelor of Vocational Education in 1987.

(Note: My mother, who was a very hard working Registered Nurse (RN)(Thursday, Saturday & Sunday evenings when we were young), was taking care of us kids when my Dad was out influencing the world around him. But, she too made time to complete her degree part time and graduated with her Bachelor of Nursing (BN) in 1986).

It was impossible to say NO to a University education for us kids when both parents did their degrees with so much on their plates.

Given that my father was also a conscientious instructor/professor of accounting at the local college, he also impacted thousands of other students lives over the years. I have heard many stories about students who thanked him for his advice and the influence it had on their future. But one story in particular sticks out for me. In 1992, the province of Newfoundland implemented a Cod Fish Moratorium due to declining cod fish stocks in the waters around the province. This meant fisherman (and there were a lot), who once made a living from this fishery were thrown out of work.  This was a crushing blow for the province and its generations of fisherman. As part the plan however, the government of Newfoundland provided financial support for fisherman to get retraining for another profession.

As a result, my father would sometimes see former fisherman from remote areas of the province come through his classes. One year, a student came through that was exceptionally bright and great with numbers.  He was a mature student, who was serious about learning and even helped police those in the classroom who were younger and easily disruptive.  One day, my Dad pulled him aside and said “You are obviously very bright and you do fine work. Have you ever thought about going to MUN?”. The guy was quite surprised and said he really hadn’t thought about it because he didn’t think he would be able to handle it after being out of school for so long. 

I believe I had just completed business school at the time or was about to finish.  My father probably thought if my son can do it, you can too LOL. Anyway, my father didn’t see the guy again so he was unsure what happened.  But years later, after my parents had left the Province and were home for vacation, my father felt a big burly hand clamp down on his shoulder as he was lined up at the rental car kiosk.  It was this same student.  He said “Hello Mr. Power. My brother and I took your advice and we both went to MUN and completed our Bachelor of Commerce Degrees. I am now the big honcho at one of the major government departments in St. John’s.” He thanked my Dad for the advice and my father was pleased that it all worked out.  

I know this has been a long post, and I have probably lost a few readers along the way.  If you stayed to the end, thank you for reading. Genealogists are famous for writing about long dead ancestors who they knew nothing about other than what is written in books.  For me, writing about my father and his ‘influence’ on so many lives, didn’t require any reading just lots of listening and watching. It was well worth the time it took, even if this is only for an audience of one.  Because, as you can see, the impact and influence one person’s volunteerism can have on a community is immense, if they put their mind to it.  My father certainly did.

Photos and article © 2024 Bob Power unless otherwise attributed.