The day in November 1980 I struck a blow in for Canada

I wrote this in the fall of 2024, when New Brunswickers were going to the polls, and Justin Trudeau was still Prime Minister of Canada, and talk of Western separatism was all the rage. It reminded me of an incident in November 1980, when I was still at the University of Alberta.

The separatists had a full house at the "Jube" in November 1980

The NB provincial election is upon us but, with the minority government cluster**** going on in Ottawa, federal politics is never far from thought (for those of us with such proclivities…).

There’s a lot of anti-Trudeau sentiment out there these days but, for those of us of a certain age, it’s the second time round for that thinking. Except that, the first-time round, it was his father, Pierre Trudeau (PM 1968-79, 80-84, d. 2000), who was the target of the vitriol. No need to go into all the reasons here but it was fierce, especially in Alberta, where I did all my post-secondary schooling.

Partly as a result of this anti-Trudeau sentiment, Western separatism was on the rise and a separatist party called the Western Canada Concept decided to hold a rally at the Jubilee Auditorium in Edmonton in November 1980. 2,700 people showed up – not all supporters, but a full house, nonetheless.

As a 2^nd-year pro-Canadian university student, I felt it my duty to attend this rally. Why? To heckle, of course. Why I wore a fricking suit that day, I’ll never know, but there I was, an easy target, looking like I didn’t belong. Which I most certainly didn’t.

An angry mob, especially one guy

It was an angry mob, to say the least. I got there early and was waiting for the “show” to start, when a burly fellow in a baseball cap, who made a point of telling me he was about the same age as I am now, came up to me and started “talking smack” to me, as we might call it today.

I can’t honestly remember what words we exchanged (other than that he called me a “Liberal”, as if he were spitting out snake venom) but, whatever I said about being there to stand up for Canada, he didn’t like. He then added (as I’ll never forget), “I was a fighter, boy, I was a boxer, so you’d better watch yourself.”

I clearly remember holding my tongue at that point, but then he decided to hit me anyway.

Not with his fist, but with some rolled up papers he had in his hand. He actually slapped me across the face with them. So I did what anyone raised in Winnipeg’s North End would do and responded in kind, except without the papers. That sent him sprawling, putting a welcome end to the big kerfuffle.

A witness to the sordid affair said he would support me as having acted in self-defence if it ever got to that, but it never did.

Did make the Globe and Mail and was referenced in the March 1981 edition of the now-defunct Quest magazine (below), though.