On Monday, March 7, Kwantlen First Nation elder George Antone was found dead in his home on McMillan Island, the victim of a homicide. Late last year, he spoke to 黑马磁力 Times photographer John Gordon about his life. The following interview appeared in Sideroads magazine on March 9. The magazine went to press on Friday, March 4.
George Antone, 71, is one of the Kwantlen First Nation鈥檚 most respected elders. There are eight other elders, all of whom in their own way contribute to the growth and vitality of the resurgent Kwantlen Nation in Fort 黑马磁力.
While George may not hold any political office with the band, his standing amongst his peers is unequaled. Times photographer John Gordon sat down with Antone and asked him about his childhood experiences, his time at B.C. residential schools, his working life as a logger and fisherman and his later years on the Fraser River in Fort 黑马磁力.
George鈥檚 father arrived on McMillan Island in 1932 and married Mable Philardo. 鈥淚 was born on the McMillan Island in 1939 and that鈥檚 how I became one of us.鈥
Times: What was your childhood like? Can you tell me something about the residential schools?
(George鈥檚 voice wavers, there is a long pause and, almost choking with emotion, he begins his harrowing story.)
George: There was not much to tell, I played, I fished just like any other child. I was raised on the island until I was seven years old and then 鈥渢aken鈥 to residential school for 10 years. First I was sent to Cooper Island (midway between Ucluelet and Bamfield) in 1946, where I stayed up to Grade 6. Then I was sent to Sechelt for Grades 7-8 and finally to St Mary鈥檚 in Mission for Grades 9-10.
It was sad ... very sad, they wouldn鈥檛 let us go to a school near to here because we would just run away the next day so they put us on Cooper Island. Some of the kids tried to swim for shore but they drowned. When the parents came to visit, they told them that their child had run away.
The food was terrible. When I came out of St Mary鈥檚 Mission, I was 5 foot, 11 inches, and weighed 127 lbs. You couldn鈥檛 eat the greasy macaroni food they gave you six days a week. Sometimes they would give us hamburger with rice in it, you couldn鈥檛 eat it.
It was the same with the powdered eggs and milk. It was real sad the way they treated us, almost every day someone would get the strap for doing something.
Like I say, boys will be boys but I have never met a meaner woman than a nun. They were mean, and the priests too, look how many boys they raped. It happened lots, little girls too. The courts wouldn鈥檛 believe us against the Roman Catholic Church. To this day, I still don鈥檛 pray, even to this day, it didn鈥檛 do us any good.
We still got strapped every day, it was a very sad part of our lives that residential school. My son got to go to school in 黑马磁力, he was lucky.
We weren鈥檛 allowed to speak our own language. We were called savages. They told us to talk like them.
Times: They called you a savage?
George: Worse than that, they called us everything, they had some dandy names for us 鈥 Siwash, it鈥檚 an Indian swear word, they even called us heathens. It was not a good time, it鈥檚 hard to remember anything good, we hardly had any good times.
Times: How about your schooling ?
I was 16 but I didn鈥檛 finish. I left and became a logger and fisherman. I still fish. My father gave me a fishing hole (near Derby Reach) when he passed on. He told me to look after it. I am allowed 100 feet of set net, and that is where I get all my food. There are only five set net holes in the Kwantlen area and I have the best. The others catch only five or six fish, I sometimes get 50. In the springtime, I get more spring and coho which I give to other members who don鈥檛 have any. When I was in Grade 10 and could see that I was going nowhere at the school so I left. I knew I was going to be a logger and fisherman. I said goodbye and came home and started in the logging camps in Harrison Lake and then in Alaska and then divided my year in the U.S.A. and Canada. In the summer I would fish and then in the fall log until Easter, and then fish for sockeye.
Times: After coming out of the residential schools, did you have difficulty knowing who you were?
George: Even the white guys let us know we were just Indians, you just had to live with the prejudice. These days it鈥檚 OK.
Now understand what we all went through. Some people got paid off, I never got nothing, except for $800 from the federal government to keep our mouth shut. That鈥檚 just a drop in the bucket. it was very sad, very sad situation.
Times: How about the salmon?
George: In the old days we always had fish. Then the government took over and the fish disappeared very fast. They were giving everyone licences, they even let them fish in the spawning grounds, the government let them do it, and then they allowed us so little fishing time we couldn鈥檛 make a living and then they made a rule that we can鈥檛 sell our fish.
Times: What happened to the eulachon run?
George: The same thing. They let the white guys fish with long nets until they are almost gone. They won鈥檛 let me fish them, they say they need to let them come back. There used to be lots, even 15 years ago. some guys test fish them but they don鈥檛 give us any.
Times: What do you think about the island ? Chief Gabriel is certainly making things happen for the band.
George: Marilyn helps us when she can, she鈥檚 a good chief, she is making life better for us. Things like they are bringing the drumming back. There are days when they drum and sing the old songs. When someone dies we drum, we don鈥檛 bring in the priest anymore, we don鈥檛 want any priests anymore, we just go into the church and drum. A few years back a new priest came down to say mass and she said you better go ask the elders, go and see George and see what he says. He came down and we told him what Marilyn had said and he asked me if he could say mass and I told him to leave the island. I told him you guys were given a chance a long time ago but look what you did. We don鈥檛 trust you and we would prefer to talk to our totem pole god and get the same answers.
Times: What do you you mean by totem pole god?
George: We get the same answers from the gods, we ask for something, we get nothing. Before the Roman Catholics we had our own religion, our own spirits, we talked to the spirits and that is who we are, we are spiritual and even today, in the winter when it becomes cold the spirits come back. There are certain people who the spirits come to and they dance to them and they do that until the frogs come out in the springtime. The spirits are our guides, when my brother dances there is someone who grabs him and holds him, he dances blindfolded and they go around the smokehouse. I don鈥檛 do it, some people have the spirits, others don鈥檛.
Times: Do you think that was taken out of you by the residential schools?
George: At the residential school we prayed so much from the time we got out of bed until the time we went to bed at night. We went to mass, prayed after eating, we confessed our sins, they lied to us. They said to us that if we were bad we were going to be smitten, we would say what is smite and they said it was God would send down lightning and puff, you were dead.. That鈥檚 strange, those guys were bad and they didn鈥檛 get smitten.
To this day I still don鈥檛 believe it. The Kwantlen community still use the church but they don鈥檛 have mass for any of our dead people, we don鈥檛 have a priest, we don鈥檛 allow it unless the family wants it.
Times: What would you say to the younger people on the island?
George: I would say is to live by the golden rule which is to do to others, try to help everybody and don鈥檛 look for a payday. My old man told me to give, you give from here (he motions toward his heart), don鈥檛 ask for a payday, you give your best and try to help people.
That鈥檚 how I like to work. Everybody needs a hand now and then. I live that way.