Northern News Services

Yellowknife (Sept 03/01) - Dust and memories --how could a person not be confronted by either when travelling back up the Mackenzie Highway to a place once called home?

Dorene Redshaw, on her recent return visit to Yellowknife, would have plenty to say about both.

"Up on that friggin' road to Rae, that was the first time I was scared to death up here," says Redshaw, who knows all about the last 100 grinding, heart-palpitating kilometres of highway into the city -- she first drove it with her husband Art and their three young sons Michael, Robert and John, when they moved here in 1971.

"The first time, we blew both tires out on our trailer," she recalls. The highway, she says, is still as bad as ever.

And the memories -- they haunt her everywhere she turns. She points where the old movie house used to be on Franklin Ave., the sticky spools of licorice she would pass by while shopping at the Bay, the wild places her children used to play -- now paved over and lined with suburban homes. It has been only ten years since Redshaw last lived in Yellowknife.

Redshaw's Northern credentials are as extensive as her memories: A former member of the infamous Daughters of the Midnight Sun, a beloved children's entertainer who visited practically every nook and cranny in the territory where a schoolhouse might have stood, not to mention her role as the North's mischievous raven-suited ambassador at Expo '86 in Vancouver.

Nowadays, Redshaw's legacy in the North lives on through her son Robert and his young family, who never had the heart to leave Yellowknife for good, and the many friends who stayed behind and continue to welcome her every time she pays a visit.

Considering her many achievements here, it is surprising to hear how difficult it was for her to acclimatize to the North.

"We were staying in this trailer-motel when we first moved up and the sun was shining late at night and there were no curtains," Redshaw recalls. "I just sat there and cried, 'I hate this place.' That was my first day here."

And like many first-time Northerners, her southern-bred assumptions towards the North led to embarrassment on more than one occasion.

"I bought some mukluks at the Bay because I figured we're in the North now, but then I found out I couldn't walk on Franklin Avenue with them because it was all full of gravel," says Redshaw with a laugh.

Somewhere in-between the long summer days and the even longer winter nights, however, Redshaw found her footing and made herself a home.

"It was a great place socially because all the husbands would travel and the wives would invite each other over and play games with the kids," says Redshaw.

It was out of these week-night get-togethers that Yellowknife's wild ladies of the North -- the Daughters of the Midnight Sun -- were born. During the '70s, Redshaw would play a vital role in bringing some of their hijinks to fruition.

"We were just a bunch of crazy ladies, that's all," says Redshaw.

"We'd do the longest night of the year pub crawl. I was dressed up as the jolly green giant, and we went from bar to bar spreading cheer. That's what we did, all the bar owners gave us free drinks."

Of course, there was a serious side to Redshaw. A year after moving to Yellowknife, she found employment working as a kindergarten teacher at Mildred Hall Elementary School.

Teaching in the school's famous Teepee, she says, did have its challenges.

"It was an acoustical nightmare," Redshaw recalls. "It looked pretty and everyone liked it, but get 40-50 kids in there..."

One humorous anecdote Redshaw remembers while serving there involved making a deal with the local dog catcher.

"One day the dog catcher came by, and I could see my dog (Taffy) in the back of the truck," says Redshaw.

Apparently the old beagle had grown a little homesick after the Redshaw family moved from Matonabee St. to their new house on Phinney Court. The runaway dog was now in a bit of a bind.

"I asked the dog catcher if he would give me the dog and he said, 'you see that little dog on the playground, I've been trying to catch him for three days, if you can catch him I'll give you you're dog back,'" Redshaw remembers.

"So I said ok, and I went up to (one of my students) and asked if I could have a piece of his rye bread sandwich. I used it to catch that dog, and so I traded dogs with the dog catcher, and then Taffy went and peed all over the Teepee floor."

Despite the bad doggie, Redshaw's career in education continued to grow. After moving on to J.H. Sissons to teach there for a couple of years, she was asked to draft a kindergarten curriculum for the NWT, which she says is still in use today.

However, being a bit of an extrovert, Redshaw was still looking for some other excitement. The answer came calling through the beak of a five foot four inch tall raven named Ramona.

The raven in question was Mary Bryant, who had created a raven suit circa 1977 for one escapade or another with the Daughters of the Midnight Sun.

Redshaw had the idea one day to invite Mary dressed as the raven to her kindergarten class at J.H. Sissons. She had been studying literature on ravens, and felt a human-sized one would provide the perfect educational tool.

"All the kids were at the window going crazy," Redshaw recalls, "so we invited her in. She was great as long as she was scripted."

Over the next couple of years the duo would go on to record an album, host a radio show on CBC, and delight children all across the NWT through skits and song.

In 1981, Mary's family moved to Winnipeg leaving Redshaw to take over the role of Ramona on her own. She would continue to do so for the next eight years.

"It was my ticket around the North," says Redshaw. "It was incredible to be in costume."

One of her proudest moments came when she was invited to participate in Expo '86. Ramona the Raven was about to hit the international stage.

Besides telling raven stories at the Canadian Pavilion, Redshaw -- as Ramona -- was every bit as mischievous as a real raven.

"Ramona worked the lines because you know how long the lines were at Expo," Redshaw laughs.

"I would walk up to people in line and say, 'would you trust an old bird?' And if they said yes, I would take them in through the back door where the big movie was."

By 1989, the raven costume had seen better days, and Redshaw was contemplating retiring as the North's most recognizable children's entertainer.

"By then the crotch was worn out, and it smelled something crazy," says Redshaw. "The dry cleaners refused to wash it."

A couple of years later, Redshaw and her husband Art felt like it was time for a change. They left the North behind them and moved to Edmonton in 1991.

"At the time I was ready to go," says Redshaw. "The kids (her own) weren't here any more."

The last ten years of Redshaw's life have been full of both little joys and tremendous pain. Her sons all married, and she watched with delight as her grandchildren grew and became more numerous -- she has six now.

But in 1996, her husband of more than 30 years, Art, suffered a heart attack while walking the family dog and died.

"It was so very sudden, he was just gone," Redshaw says. "I think my writing was the only thing that saved me."

The road to recovery is sometimes a long one, and Redshaw readily admits she is still travelling it.

She met a new friend, Lindsey King, and with him set out on a new adventure, travelling in a '79 camper-trailer. She says she would like to find a new place to settle down, but for the time being, she is happy to make another trip up North.

"I want a country house," Redshaw says. "But I will always keep in touch with my friends up North.

"The one thing about the North was that there was always an opportunity if you looked for it."