“The other day, I was lying in bed thinking,” Bert Banks says, drinking coffee at his kitchen table. “I’m the last surviving Village of Chapman Camp resident. I can’t think of anyone else, but I don’t want to call around and ask if anyone’s still alive.”

Bert’s referring to Kimberley’s Chapman Camp neighbourhood that in 1930, the year he was born, housed Cominco’s Concentrator employees, responsible for separating particles within the ore body. It was its own village, complete with post office, grocery store, village council, school, fire department, skating rink, curling rink, and swimming pool. Its social hub, Oughtred Hall, housed a candy store, bowling alley and pool hall, reading room, dance hall, barber shop and gas station. “It was quite something,” Bert says. “Imagine the size of it.”

These were the days of kids attaching wooden sleighs to horse-drawn snow ploughs, hitching rides in the ore-train caboose, and learning how to milk cows. These were the days of toys that weren’t electric, of kids using their imaginations and disappearing for the day.  “We were blessed,” Bert says. “It was a great place to grow up. It was a good life. People took care of each other.”

On Service to Others.

Outside Bert and Bev Banks’ kitchen window, a Maple tree readies itself for winter. A gust of wind blows its leaves to the ground. Bert makes the tiny gesture of remembering: he rubs his thumb along a coffee cup, comfortable in the quiet of fall. “My dad instilled in me to have respect for everyone,” Bert says. “It didn’t matter if you were a king or ditch digger. He said, ‘There’s good in everybody.’ That stayed with me.”

If you’ve driven on Kimberley’s main thoroughfare, Wallinger Ave., you’ve crossed Banks Street, named after Bert’s father Hubert, superintendent  of Cominco’s Concentrator. “The biggest compliment anyone can pay me,” Bert says, “is to say I remind them of my dad. He was quite a guy.”

The value of service, of seeing the good in people, has weaved its way through Bert Bank’s life.  He served 17 years on the City of Kimberley’s council, and has an impressive array of volunteer work (see sidebar insert).

“How can I put it?” Bert says. “My dad taught me things I’ve never forgotten: always hold a door open for a lady. Be polite. Treat people with respect. Help someone out whenever you can.”

On Falling in Love. Working. Raising Kids.

“I had my eye on her for quite a while,” Bert says laughing, referring  to how he fell in love with Bev. “She was 14. I was 17. I told her I was younger than that. I didn’t want to scare her off. Eventually, we went on a date, and before long, we were driving to Cranbrook on Saturday nights in my ‘29 Chev. We’d eat at the Chinese cafe, then go see the Jimmy Pearson Band at the Blue Bird Dance Hall. It was a lot of fun.”

Bev, who’s more comfortable in the background, putters in the kitchen and laughs with the comfort of being around someone she’s known most of her life. “We dated for six years,” she says. “It took Bert’s mom a while to get used to it. I only kept him around because he had a nice car.”

“All of Bev’s girlfriends were getting married,” Bert says. “It got to the point where she didn’t think I’d ask her. I had to make up my mind.“ He giggles. “I didn’t have much choice. Lucky for me, it’s worked out pretty well.”

“I wasn’t interested in University,” Bert recalls.  I told my dad it would be a waste of money.

Instead, I got my machinist and millwright tickets. We moved to Los Angeles, where there was a sign on the sidewalk: Lathe Operator Required. I ended up as assistant shop foreman; within the year, I was in charge of 40 guys.”

A few years later, homesick for Canada, they returned to Kimberley. “It wasn’t long before I got a job at Cominco, where I worked the next 38 years as a machinist then millwright,” Bert says. “I was so proud when everything was running perfectly. I got my training from a Scottsman. He was very particular. He didn’t mess around.”

Within a few years, their young family expanding, Bert felt like he wanted to contribute something to the community. “I felt fortunate and wanted to share that,” he says. “ I ran for Chapman Camp Village council, and gosh, I won.”  But it wasn’t all glamour and politics for Bert. “Among other duties, I was responsible for cleaning and servicing the outdoor pool,” Bert says. “Once, I had some surrounding trees removed because their roots were destroying the deck tiles. The people weren’t too happy about that. I thought my days were done. After that, we weren’t too sure whether we’d continue living in Chapman Camp, but we’ve stuck around for sixty years. I’m pretty sure they’ve forgotten about that by now.”

Eventually, every discussion with Bert winds its way back to his family, to the thing that matters most. He and Bev raised four kids, have six grandchildren, and three great grandchildren. Recently, the family spent four days putting a new roof on Bert and Bev’s house. “We swam, skied, and camped with them all the time,” Bert says. “They’re good kids. We had a lot of fun.”

On Kimberley

“Kimberley has changed a lot over the years,” Bert says. “In the late 60’s, we looked ahead and recognized the ore body wouldn’t last forever. Council didn’t want a one-horse mining town that devolved into a ghost town. We decided to focus on tourism and recreational opportunities. In 1973, we introduced a  Bavarian theme to Kimberley. It was a hard sell at first, but we had to do something to keep the town going. Then, in the early 90’s, when we discovered there were only ten years left of ore, we expanded our recreational initiative: we sold the ski hill, developed golf courses, and built a new campground. Despite losing essential services like our hospital and government agencies, we still have a pretty vibrant town. A lot of credit has to be given to the foresight of city council.”

During his years on council, Bert developed a reputation as a man you could trust. Larry Haber, who spent 21 years as Kimberley’s Director of Economic Development, reflects on his time working with Bert. “He was always open-minded,” Larry recalls. “He’d listen to all sides and come to the best decision based on what was best for the community, not his own agenda. He quietly spearheaded and implemented many social development and infrastructure projects (eg. Mark Creek Dam) without the community’s awareness.  His heart was invested into making Kimberley the best it could be. It was such a pleasure working with him.”

Councillor Albert Hoglund mirrors Haber’s sentiment: “Bert was a pleasure to work with and incredibly knowledgeable when dealing with local government. As well, he was not afraid to speak his mind on issues he felt passionate about.”

When Bert looks back on his tenure with council, he’s proud yet humble. “We made some important decisions for sustaining Kimberley’s future,” he says. “Yet, I felt there were times I still could have done more.”

On Staying Together.

“Everything you do, you don’t do it for yourself,” Bert says, when he reflects on the 62 years he and Bev have been married. “You do it for each other. You’re always there for them. If they’re hurt, you're there for them. If they want to do something, you’re there for them. You thank them for everything they do. It’s really pretty simple.”

“Plus, Bert does the vacuuming,” Bev says. “And I’ve always said, you have to be friends before you’re lovers.”

“And we’re pretty great friends,” Bert says.

Bert’s basement office is a shrine to what he values most, its walls adorned with precious photos: weddings, graduations, anniversaries, dance recitals and hockey games, and the historic day in 1950, when he and his father were invited to witness the engineering feat of the 3700 and 3900 foot level tunnels being joined. Bev searches through the filing cabinet and pulls out a sixty-five year old brochure celebrating the Banff Winter Carnival.  On page two, there’s a description of Canada’s increased comforts due to industrial progress: a million homes have refrigerators, 623,000 homes have radios. On the next page, diagrams on how to prepare for an atomic bomb attack. Bev points to the cover: a black and white photo of Canada’s Carnival Queens posing under a massive snow sculpture. Standing beside the Toronto Queen is Kimberley’s Queen, the future Bev Banks. “Now you know why I married her,” Bert says.

On Sticking Around.

Bert doesn’t plan on disappearing anytime soon. He walks to the pool three times a week, where he swims ten to twenty lengths. On the other two weekdays he meets his old buddies at the Sully Pub, where they reminisce about the old days. “Sadly, we’re losing our numbers,” Bert says.

“I think about life not going on forever, how the years seem to go quicker and quicker. But, I’ve enjoyed this life. I really have. What bothers me about getting old is I can’t do the things I used to do,” Bert says. “It used to take me a day to winterize the raspberries. Now it takes me three weeks. I’ve always said, ‘The impossible always take me a bit longer. I never give up. There’s nothing like a challenge to develop character.”

Just before dinner, Bert becomes quiet, like something’s on his mind. Bev stirs a pot on the stove. It’s the sort of scene we dream of as kids and grandchildren: two people in the silent comfort of their company.

Bert looks up. “Things constantly change,” he says. “Why just the other night, we went to the Platzl for pizza. The restaurant was full of young people. I didn’t recognize a soul. I’ve been here 87 years. You’d think I’d know somebody.” He pauses, then chuckles. “I go to the graveyard, and I know a few folks there. I’m not sure what’s in store for the future. I’d hate to think I’m done. Think there’s still something left in me.”

Bert Banks’ Community Work

• 17 years on the City of Kimberley’s council

• longest serving volunteer board member of Community Futures

• lifetime membership award for the Association of Kootenay Boundary Municipalities

• Five years on the board of the Kimberley Dynamiters, including terms as president and vice-president

• 2006 unveiling of the Kimberley Aquatic Centre’s Bert Banks Lap Pool, for the recognition of Bert’s initiative in bringing the indoor pool to Kimberley