The Reminder is making its archives back to 2003 available on our website. Please note that, due to technical limitations, archive articles are presented without the usual formatting.
A couple of years ago, I was fortunate enough to enjoy Flin Flon historian Gerry Clark's amazing slide show presentation. Although I went in with a fair amount of knowledge of the community's early days, all of those black and white photos, intertwined with Clark's tales from years gone by, really brought to light just how fertile in history Flin Flon is. From Mandy Mine to the 'Marijuana Mine', from Bobby Clarke to Ken Baumgartner, not only could you write a book about our past (as has been done), you could put together an encyclopedia collection. One of my favourite excerpts from the annals of Flin Flon history relates to the community's first bank. Although I've heard it at least a dozen times, it never fails to prompt a chuckle. As the story goes, an official with a national bank came to town to set up a new branch, bringing with him a suitcase containing the $10,000 in cash he would need to undertake the venture. That's a huge amount of greenbacks by today's standards. Imagine what it was worth back then. But where to keep such a vast sum? A business owner informed the banker that there wasn't a single vault in the community and suggested the safest storage place would be in the back room of his store, tucked safely under a bed. Amazingly, the banker obliged even though the room was frequently rented out to men who had just arrived in town. So there this suitcase stuffed with money sat under the bed, with strangers constantly in and out of the room. Nobody seemed to stop and think that perhaps this wasn't such a good idea. Just as it is today, Flin Flon has been filled with a plethora of colourful characters over the years. If not at the top of the list, former mayor Jack Freedman certainly ranks high in the compelling category. The curious, cigar-chomping entrepreneur would share his opinions with the public via a blackboard he had installed outside his Main Street confectionary. And he was never shy about pointing out what he thought should be done differently in the community. Considered a focal point on Main Street for years, that cherished blackboard no doubt help propel Freedman to the mayor's seat for the first time in 1952 with an incredible 82 per cent of the vote. Anyone old enough to remember the vocal Freedman's tenure knows he was one of a kind. As one elderly gentleman told me, "You never knew what he would do next. It was great." Mayor Freedman must have been a reporter's dream, providing endless copy for newshawks in search of a great quote or headline-worthy behaviour. Such behaviour included the time he and one of his councillors engaged in a shoving match at a council meeting. On another occasion, he sat up and left a council meeting over a strongly-held disagreement. Of course, I could go on and on with interesting tidbits from the city's past, but there simply isn't enough paper in the building. Maybe after work I'll get started on that encyclopedia project.
