Richard Martin Remembered as Spiritual and Cultural Leader

by Dan Davidson

St. Barnabas Anglican Church at Moosehide was crowded on August 1 as members of both the Han and Gwech’in first nations gathered with clergy to celebrate the life of Deacon Richard Martin, a leader of both the Tr’ondëk Hwëch’in and the Anglican Church since the time of his ordination as a deacon.

Martin was born sometime between 1879 and 1882 in the Peel River area and began his service to the church (which travelled from settlement to

Outside Saint Barnabas Church, at Moosehide, clergy get ready to enter for the special service to celebrate the life of the Reverend Deacon Richard Martin. Participants included the Venerable Kenneth Snider, retired Archdeacon of the Klondike; the Reverend Deacon Percy Henry; Bishop Terrence O. Buckle, Licensed Lay Minister Mabel Henry; the Reverend Deacon Marion Schafer; and the Venerable John Tyrrell, Archdeacon of the Klondike.

settlement in those days) as a young boy, progressing eventually to the status of catechist and lay reader before being ordained as a deacon in August of 1926 by Bishop Stringer.

A mere five months later Martin, who has already lost the sight in one eye as a child, was blinded in his remaining eye by a faulty rifle while hunting, thus bringing to an end his years of serving the people in the bush, and his active life as a hunter, trapper and wilderness guide.

Though Stringer thought Martin should relocate to Fort McPherson, Martin chose to live in Moosehide, the Hän settlement some miles down river from Dawson City, where a church had been built in 1908. Here Martin served as a mainstay of the church for many years, both holding services himself and assisting other ministers.

Martin was one of the last members of the first nation to live in Moosehide year round. Most moved to Dawson after 1957 when the government shut down the school there, but Martin remained until 1962, after which time he moved to Dawson and became part of the life of St. Paul’s Anglican Church there.

He remained an active inspiration to others until his death in 1975, and the chapel beside St. Paul’s, where services are held in the winter months, was named in his memory.

Towards the end of his life he lived in MacDonald Lodge Senior’s Home, where he was frequently visited by the Reverend Ken Snider ( now retired) who was new to the Yukon at that time in his own ministry. Snider provided the personal reminiscences and history of Martin’s life at the service, with Bishop Terry Buckle delivering the sermon. Archdeacon John Tyrrell presided over the service, assisted by the Reverend Deacon Percy Henry; Licensed Lay Minister Mabel Henry and the Reverend Deacon Marion Schafer.

As a special memorial, the service was conducted in the formal language of the Book of Common Prayer on 1918, which was the book Martin used and had committed to memory. Some of the hymns at the service were sung in the Gwech’in language which was most frequently used for services.

Richard Martin is also the focus of a special display at the Dänòja Zho Cultural Centre this summer. Each year a different key elder in remembered in a display of memorabilia. Martin’s display includes a detailed account of his life, some of the books he used in his missionary work, a number of photographs and the ceremonial stole he used when conducting services.

St. Barnabas, which has deteriorated somewhat over the years, will be renovated in a joint project by the Anglican Church and the Tr’ondëk Hwëch’in over the next several years.

Uffish Thoughts: Who Speaks for Dawson?

by Dan Davidson

As the Discovery Days parade wound to its end at Minto Park on Saturday it became clear that, once again this summer, there was something missing from the agenda.

There are certain formalities that mark occasions like this one, and when they are absent, they leave a hole.

Discovery Days is, after all, an event with several purposes behind it. We hold a parade to celebrate our history, to have some fun, to give our service groups and businesses a chance to show off and, not least on the list, to bring in the tourists.

Once they've turned out for an event like this, there should be some one at the end of the show to bid them welcome, to explain the day and put things in context. Someone should be on hand wearing that ponderous chain of office with all that gold to open their eyes and make them want to have a picture taken with whoever is wearing it.

A German tourist, who makes it part of his annual trip to be in special parades in the Yukon, seemed to be the only one waving a City of Dawson flag this year. Photo by Dan Davidson.

Since April 13 there hasn't been anyone whose legitimate function it would be to do those things. We haven't had a mayor and council since the territory took them away.

The same was true on Canada Day and earlier, in June, when the foreign ambassadors and military attaches arrived for their annual visit. There may have been lots of people to talk about Dawson, but there was no one to speak FOR Dawson.

These are, of course, trivial examples of the actual problem. The chamber of commerce hit the nail on the head earlier in the month when they complained about the lack of an official town voice during the time of the forest fires in July. They pointed out that past administrations over the last decade have been quick to speak out in the community's defense when the need arose for a corrective news conference.

This is not to say, not in the least, that those appointed by the territory at this time did not rise to the occasion, but administrators, trustees and appointed advisory committee members don't have the same clout as elected officials, nor, when you get right down to it, do they have the same motivation.

It's been over four months now since democracy was sent to the benches in Dawson, and discussion of the subject seems hardly to be heard in the town.

Dependency is comfortable. No one local has actually to take responsibility for anything. There are none of those arguments about the rightness or wrongness of things, which, while they may go and have gone too far here in the past, are nevertheless the lifeblood of the democratic process.

We ought not to be content with this situation. Those who feel they won the battle when last October's winning team was finally removed should not be complacent. Who knows what will happen when the writ is finally dropped? Who know who will run for office?

Those who supported the process which elected that October council, even if they didn't approve of all that it did, ought to remain alert to the possibility that a certain stagnant quality is creeping into our political life.

While I sympathize with Trustee Ray Hayes' need to reduce expectations in a time of financial crisis, the spirit of a community is enhanced only when there are people who are excited about future possibilities; a town grows when it dares to reach for something just beyond its grasp; when we take no risks, we are less alive.

Examples abound here, from the origins of the Klondike Visitors Association in the 1950s to the Klondyke Centennials Society in the 1980s and the foundation of the Dawson City Arts Society in the 1990s.

Both of the latter organizations, it should be remembered, would never have gotten as far as they did without healthy annual infusions of cash from several visionary town councils which saw the strength of their dreams and backed them with dollars.

We wouldn't be able to do anything like that right now, and may not again for some time to come.

If, as a citizen of the Klondike, this does not concern you, I ask you to give the matter some thought. I think it should.