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THE KEITH
BEEDIE STORY
Keith when he was 10 years
old, in Regina, 1936.
RIGHT: Keith’s mom loved the
outdoors, circa 1924.
PART 1: LAYING THE FOUNDATION
CHAPTER 1: A BEEDIE IS BORN
“I used to
do things
just to
bug my
mother.”
We never did get along too well. It would all blow up, then she would tell my
father about it and he would deal with me downstairs. He would haul me
down by the old furnace, with big duct pipes all around, take off his belt off
and wham, right across my rear end. It hurt.” One of Keith’s earliest memories
is of running away when he was four years old, aft er a disagreement with his
mother. “I got as far as a bridge,” he says. “I don’t remember how I got home,
but I know I got the strap from Dad for that one.”
Th e possibility of another more disturbing story concerning Keith’s mother
was only revealed to him as an adult. Keith is unable to fully straighten his
arm as a result of a bad break sustained when he was three. His mother
had always told him that he’d tripped over a sandbox while chasing a little
girl. Keith didn’t remember the incident, so accepted his mother’s version
of events. However, when Keith was in his late 60s, an aunt told him
diff erently. “She said, ‘Forget that business about tripping, your mother
did it.’ I hadn’t considered such a thing until then, but knowing my mom
as I grew up, it was certainly possible.”
Th ough he has diffi culty recalling much in the way of warm maternal
attention, happier domestic moments with his mother and father do
stand out. “In Regina, in 1936, our house on College Avenue had a
vacant lot next door. Dad would fl ood it to make an ice rink for us
to play on. While skating around once, I remember looking over to
our house and the windows were all steamed up. Th e minute I saw the
windows I knew from all the steam that my mother was making donuts.
It felt good.” Donuts were a warm treat for a chilly skater to come home
to, especially at a time when not everyone was faring as well.
At a time when some kids went hungry, Keith’s father was making
enough money that the family was able to put plenty of healthy food
on the table each meal. “We always had good food and plenty of it
when Joan and I were kids. When it came to food, the worst I ever had
to deal with was eating things I didn’t like: sauerkraut and cabbage
salad. We were very lucky.”
Keith in front of his
father’s new Oldsmobile,
on the trip from Regina
to Vancouver, 1937.
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