Ask any business person what the most important element of their business is and, regardless of the profession, you'll get the same answer - the employees. Although the numbers have gone up and down over the past 100 years, Howe Sound Pulp and Paper Mill has long been a major employer on the Sunshine Coast. For many families it was a rite of passage to have one's children follow the parents (for much of the century, the fathers) into the mill.The history of the mill shows many workers with the same surnames - Humes, Henrys, Nelsons, the list goes on and on.
Many of the workers kept pace with the frequent closures of the mill. After 1947, when the mill came back to life after the war, many of the old-timers came back and brought their families with them.
As was the case with many mills, Howe Sound was primarily a "learn on the job" source of employment. It wasn't unheard of for workers with the bare minimum of formal education to find jobs that paid well enough to raise a family.
Ted Hume is one of a number of former mill workers who followed his dad into the mill. Ernie Hume, the father, came to the mill in the late '40s. Planning to stay for two months, the elder Hume racked up 35 years at the mill. Ted's first experience at the mill was in 1952 when he worked at the construction office as an office boy. "In 1953, when I graduated, I started as an apprentice. My dad came home on the Friday and said, 'Mark Watson (a supervisor) said you get down to work on Monday,' and I did," Ted explained.
That was the first of many working jogs at the mill over the next 40 years for Hume junior.
After almost four years, constant disagreements with his supervisor led to Hume leaving the mill to try his hand at logging and then trucking. After a time he went back to Port Mellon and landed a job in shipping, eventually ending up as the lead hand. Not satisfied with his lot in life, Hume decided to sign up for an electrical correspondence course out of Chicago. About that time he also applied for a position as an instrument apprentice. Hume was successful in his bid for the job, and he managed to convince the brass to pay for his expensive correspondence course to boot. "At that time it [instrument position] wasn't even a trade," Hume said. He stayed in the instrument shop for the next 10 years. After that he plied his trade for an electrical firm all over the world. After several years, Hume went back to Howe Sound as a contractor. In 1991 he had heart surgery that he'd put off for 28 years and in the mid-90s worked his last at the mill.
"I loved it [the mill]. We knew everybody. The mill was part of me."
Howard Henry, the family patriarch, also came to the mill in the '40s. He began work there as a mechanic. He soon began working with heavy equipment as a millwright. When the mill closed during the war, he moved his family from the mill site to Port Mellon. Once the mill was back up and running, he went back to work.
Henry's son Marty also was a mill worker. After a less than stellar home environment, the young lad left the Coast for Vancouver. Soon he was back and worked in the machine room. In 1960 he joined the armed forces and ended up in Edmonton. In 1963 he came back to the Coast and reapplied at the mill. He worked in the machine shop for about half a year before getting laid off. Three days later he got notice of a week of work in the pipe shop. The three days turned into a 40-year career.
The Nelsons are another multi-generational family of mill workers.
In 1951, when Canfor bought the mill, the father Merle, along with many of his former peers, returned to Port Mellon to begin a long career with the mill. His son Pat, a bit of a devil by all accounts, followed his dad into the mill. The son, never lacking in curiosity, managed to get into all sorts of predicaments. One of the most famous was when he and his buddy Gary Davies decided to check out a water tower at the mill. Both boys were on a ladder up to the tower when the ladder began to pull away. The kids ended up at the bottom in a heap, Pat on top and Gary with the wind knocked out of him on the bottom. Pat's mom had little sympathy for her daredevil son, and after reading the riot act to the wayward boy, she informed him that regardless of his sore arm he would still be expected to go to school. The lad's crying in the night woke her. After finding the limb swollen, a quick trip to Dr. Ingall's clinic confirmed that the arm was broken. The saga ended with his luckless mother having to write his homework until the cast came off his arm.
Pat began working at the mill during the summers of his last two years of high school. Over his working career, he left the mill several times. Finally the mill lost out to the bright lights of the movie industry where Pat became a grip. Although recent developments have led to a large layoff at the mill, with over 400 active employees, the mill continues to be a prime employer on the Coast. Without these dedicated men and women, there would be no mill. Only time will tell how many families make their fortunes there in the next century.
