His name was Hugh Dawson Dixon, he went by Dawson and he loved to smoke tobacco and weed and drink his homebrew. He left the city about 25 years ago in a five ton flat bed truck with all he owned, headed for the wilderness to start a new life. He built a cabin from a garage package and covered it with cedar shakes he harvested from his land. He loved to debate and talk loud as he got drunk,and the man could put up a pretty good wrestle. So many times he drove home to his cabin from mine seeing through one blurry eye. We spun doughnuts on my neighbour's lawn and spilt beers in circles. We worked together 20 years ago trying to get my pump to pull water from my well, we've waited at waters edge for the next cold beer to float by, I bet there are a few still swirling in his pool of cold water. At one point he had a rooster so mean that he had to keep a switch close to where he parked his 1966 Barracuda, just to ward off the attacking bird as he exited his car. He's taught me many an outdoor trick, he showed me how to split cedar shakes and how to harvest fiddle heads for consuming.He grew his own tobacco and when he was forced to kill a bear he ate every last bit of it, he made a fur vest from it's hide and had given it fair warning. He once told me how he could take down a grizzly with his two fingers by shoving them up its nose. He told funny stories and tumbled with gravity. He fished Poplar River and even had a couple of holes on the Lardeau. He told me he was getting sick of eating fish, but it was a good part of his diet, he told me he was getting sick of shovelling the heavy snow falls and that one day would move into society. Well I hope it will all be easier for him now as he found his final sleep on his couch in his cabin after doing his final morning chores. I'm going to miss you Dawson, you were a good man and I'll blow my horn every time I cross Poplar Creek bridge, just to let you know I'm in the neighbourhood. Thank you my friend for showing me your mountains.
8 comments:
I'm sorry to hear the news. You wrote a touching eulogy for him, he would be happy to know you remember him this way. A toast to you Hugh Dawson Dixon.
jd
Dawson was a great man. I can't believe I will never see him again. A call from Meadow Creek Store rings at our house and I quickly pass the phone to Dale for him to answer. My first thought is that there is bad news about the cabin. Is the cabin inhabited by squatters again? Is it burned to the ground? I can tell by Dale's tone that it has nothing to do with the cabin. Instead there is sad news about someone we know. I don't know why, but I assume it is about Clint, a fellow who has had many ups and downs ever since I first met him. I know that Dale feels sorry about everything and then I wonder? In a hushed voice, almost imperceptible I ask, "Not Dawson?". He nods yes, as he's listening to Marna, a friend that became close to Dawson in the last year of his life. Tears fill my eyes instantly, as I didn't want this to be true. The last time Japhy and I spent time with him was about 2 years ago. We hopped into Lucinda and headed to the West Kootenays, on our way to the cabin. Along the way, we had stops in Nelson and Kaslo. As we arrived at the cabin and before settling into it, Dale always made a point to inform Dawson of our arrival. In that part of the world, you have to physically do this, as there is no electricity, no satellite towers, no phones or cellphones. We have a beer with him and know from then on that we will have daily visits with him. In those few days, we went for a swim at Howser, did a beer run in Meadow Creek, had tofu dogs for supper and played Rummy on a folded card table outside. We finished our last night listening to music from the iPod by candlelight in the cabin. I remember him enjoying the music selections and really appreciating Etta Jame's "At Last". The next morning we stopped at Dawson's place to say goodbye on our way back home. We chatted in his yard outside for a while and then he adamantly wanted us to see his miniature orange trees that were in his house. He breaks one of their leaves and says, "Smell this, isn't it just like the smell of an orange?". And so with this, he gave us one of those plants to take home. It wasn't big yet. Planted in a coffee tin container, the little orange tree made the move OK. Upon hearing the sad news yesterday, Japhy commented, "I am so glad we have one of his orange trees". Dale and I couldn't agree more. The orange tree sits in our kitchen windowsill, soaking up the the sun. It has grown a lot in the past couple of years. We love you Dawson. You will always be in our hearts. Although you have lived a secluded life for a great part of your life, you have touched many people's lives, more than you will ever know.
Athena
Oh Dale & Athena... what a wonderful tribute to our dear Dawson. I have so much to say about how amazing he was with me, how much crazy fun we had, and just how special of a man he was to those few of us he let into his inner world. But hopefully I will one day get to meet you, and we can sit around a fire and share our Dawson stories. I'm still in a shattered & dazed state, & will be for some time to come. I just can't accept he's gone... even though I was there holding him. Or maybe especially because of that. I don't know; I'm just a devastated mess. His brother Mike & Uncle Dean were here from Calgary only briefly yesterday to gather some family stuff. Mike said he & his sister etc.. hope to come back in late May to have a private get together for his close friends. Please keep in touch with me, and I'll keep you updated. I'm on Facebook - Marna Cameron Levae. I don't really want to publicly post my email address, but I'll be cryptic & I'm sure you'll get it: it is ms______ @telus.net. The blank is part of the title of an old Tull song that has a line about belonging to nature's world. Dawson would have loved this game; we challenged each other with knowing old music facts, titles, lyrics, band members, etc. I'm the lyricist; he was always the band facts & members winner! I'd like to forward you some pics of him, too, so hopefully we can figure this out.
I look forward to meeting you both one day. :) ~Marna
ps - Athena... Clint is my nephew, and much to our delight he is doing great - he moved to Ft. St. John last fall and is working his butt off & has given his life a 180. Best thing he could've ever done for himself was to leave this area. It had become toxic for him.
It's hard to believe, I thought he would live forever with his lifestyle and us city slicker friends would be the first to go. I first met Dawson at Trenton High School some 30 years ago and ended up working together in the same machine shop. When work started to get slow he made the decision to head west and never looked back. I helped him move out and so we packed up his last few precious items, put them in an old tent trailer after modifying the top to fit the GSXR and hit the road. We had a great time, two fools crossing Canada sharing a walkman that we each had one ear bud to listen to. Had a beer and a dube in each Province along the way and stopped in Calgary at his brother Mikes to get supplies and see the sights. Headed off to Poplar Creek stashed the trailer (minus the Gixer) under a load of logs and spent a few days surveying the property. Got all gooned up on Mezcal,Kokonee and weed and had the time of my life. Thanks for doing this for him Dale. I`ve never met you but have gotten a few pictures over the years with you in them. I was supposed to meet up with him in June in Revelstoke on my way back home with and had a nice top knotch steak dinner and a few beers all planned out and was looking forward to seeing my old friend and catch up better than a letter could do. I might make a detour now and stop by the property if I am able. Gonna miss sending you our care package evey year at Christmas. I miss you already.
i sit in stunned silence as news of yet another good friend and fellow coworker has passed away .hugh as i knew him was one of a kind,we apprenticed together as machinists at bata engineering for 4 yrs shared some rides to work and had alot of laughs together.he kept in touch with me thru mike as passed on messages of hello,hope all is well.i cannot believe its being 25 yrs since he left for the mountains.he may of turned his back on cililization for valid reasons but he never turned his back on friends.rest in peace my friend
Thanks for writing your beautiful tribute. Sleep well Dawson.
- John Lalley
I went to school with Dawson in Trenton in the late '70s before moving back to Toronto in '79. We remained close through the '80s and I went back to Trenton regularly to see him and a few other pals there. Unfortunately, when he moved out West and dropped off the grid, it coincided with me moving out of Canada and we never regained contact, although I tried to find him over the years without success.
I was informed by a mutual friend of D's passing via a posting of your blog entry about it; despite all the years, I certainly recognised my friend in your words.
Eccentric, loveable and fun loving, and also infuriating and exasperating, he was a unique man and my life (and many other's lives) was enriched by having him in it. Mike and Kelly, if you're reading this, my condolences at the loss of your brother.
I'm writing this on an iPad (hate 'em) at a cottage in southwest England. No Kokonee or Brador to hand but I'm raising a glass of red to your memory mate.
He shall grow not old as we that are left grow old.
Age shall not weary him, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun, and in the morning, we will remember him.
For my brother Dawson. Rest in Peace.
Thank you Dale for your blog.
Thanks to all Dawson's great friends who met Michael, Roger and me at Dawson's to remember him and spread his ashes beneath the roots of the 100 year old fir tree. How ironic that that tree fell as Dawson passed from this world and perhaps entered another. I can only hope that Dawson is with our Mom and Dad now. 'Til we meet again.'
Kelly Sue :-(
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