An online article in Wikipedia says the population of Tumbler Ridge, British Columbia peaked at approximately 4,800 in 1991, ten years after the planned community’s housing and infrastructure were built. Thirty years later, in 2021, its population had recovered to roughly 2,400, after dropping to just under 2000 in 2016, thanks to convulsive gyrations of an economy based heavily on mining. Despite efforts to diversify the local economy, the municipality is struggling to overcome its history of dependence on coal mining.
If not for a mass shooting yesterday that left at least nine dead and twenty-five wounded—according to this morning’s news reports—I would not know even of the existence of Tumbler Ridge. I would not know of its history of economic woes. I would not know anything about the coat of arms of the District of Tumbler Ridge, nor would I know that the municipality’s motto is Invitatio Prosperitati, which is a Latin phrase meaning “Invitation to prosperity.” And I would not have reason to think, in light of the town’s economic history, of the irony of its motto. A small Canadian town has given the world another reason to mourn; the cause for its grief grabbing the headlines away, at least briefly, from the mystery of the reported kidnapping of an 84-year-old mother of a media celebrity.
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I ask myself: “What prompted you to seek information about the British Columbian town where a murderous tragedy took place yesterday?” So far, no satisfactory answer has bubbled to the surface of my brain. Perhaps my motive is related to a question that I doubt has a satisfactory response: “Why?” Maybe I was looking for something about the town that could explain what drove the shooter to do something so unspeakable. I hope, I really hope, my reason did not arise from morbid curiosity.
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We had lunch at Taco Mama…excellent, as usual. A perfect follow-on to an hour-plus dedicated to another of my regular infusions at the oncologist’s office.
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I just spent just over an hours on a deeply frustrating Zoom gathering with my siblings…just a few minutes in, the service stopped the other participants from hearing me. No matter what I tried, I was muted…out of the blue. This marked yet ANOTHER of many instances when Zoom’s promised “ease” of use turned my normally cool, calm, utterly Zen nature into something akin to a seething blind rage. And this was after I just “upgraded” from the free service to a paid “professional” subscription. Oh well, time to chill. Maybe I’ll have a gin & tonic…or a gummy…or both…perhaps with a hydrocodone chaser.
Enough of this for now.
