Dad got his first "real" teaching job in Kitwanga, when I was basically a toddler. My parents and I lived in Kitwanga, then moved to a rustic cabin (Dad called it the Chicken Coop) in Cedarvale, then back in to Kitwanga. I was just about kindergarten age when we left, meaning we lived there and Dad taught there for a total of maybe three or four years. Last fall (2018) my wife, kids, and I got a deal on an old farm in Kitwanga, and we moved back to a small town that houses all my earliest memories. It also turns out it is a place where Dad - then known as Ian Beaton - is fondly remembered.
The General Store along with the neighbouring post office serves as the de-facto hub of the community. You run into folks and end up visiting in the isles sometimes for hours. We got to know the owners of the general store gradually over our first few visits. Both of them remember Dad fondly. Thys, the husband, said Dad was his teacher. "My favourite teacher I ever had, actually" he said with a smile. Dawn, the wife, remembers coming over with her previous husband and kids for tea and visits with mom and dad. "That was another life" she said with a smile.
Dad would have loved the General Store - they have literally everything you are looking for, and more! Thys has been my go-to problem solver, I head over there with a problem and he has the tools and supplies to fix it, as well as the knowledge. "Dad would've known how to do this" I've said more than a few times, while Thys nods in agreement.
A few weeks ago we went to the store as a family. I had some texting to do before getting out of the car, and the kids headed in without me. "HEY, are you guys BEATONS?" I hear a voice call out to my boys. They both stop, Ezra replies "Yup!" I hear another voice "See, I KNEW they had to be a Beaton!" I jump out of the car and go say "Hi."
"Wow, you are definitely a Beaton! Are you Ian's son?" There are two men, one sitting in a minivan and the other leaning against it, wearing a hivis vest. "Yes" I smile and reply. "How is the old man?" They ask, eager. "Unfortunately he's passed away." I tell them. They go on to say that dad was their teacher. They are brothers from neighbouring Gitanyow.
"Remember? He was the little guy!" One brother says to the other, pointing to me. "Yes, I remember, Mr. Beaton used to bring him to the school, and sometimes to class." I am absolutely blown away. The recognized my kids as being Roderick/ Ian's kids, more than 35 years since having my dad as a teacher. He obviously left an impression.