Scoops and Scrapes is contributed to the Daily Bulletin by Kimberley resident Brian Crowe. All material is courtesy of Brian Crowe, Teck Cominco Ltd., and the Kimberley Heritage Museum.

Those nicknames keep coming, the Sullivan ran rampant with them.

It was the one and only Burma Bill, who would be a top notch surveyor within the bowels of the great Sullivan. One time, when the miners were driving a raise underground, the raise opened up with sub drifts breaking into it, and it got quite large, like a gloryhole. The shifter at the time was Hans Oslie, he said it looked like Rogers Pass. Burma Bill was a classic, who put in years of work on the ‘mine model’, which is now housed at the Interpretive Centre Power House. Burma Bill obviously fought in WWII. He was very knowledgeable with the outdoors and skiing. He passed away on January 5, 2005.

Remember Howdy, as in Howdy Doody? He looked more like the puppet than the puppet itself. He would shuffle across the floor like no other. He could also mine like no other. He always had that smile on his face. I was with my girlfriend one time at the Kimberley hotel, she asked him one night, what is your given name? He said, “Howdy”. She said, “Howdy?” Yes, he said. “What’s your last name, he said, “Doody”. The rest was history.

Yes, it was old Red. He mined all over. He once said he worked the rubber mines of South America. “It took the highgrade two weeks to stop bouncing”. He also said “He mined from the footwall in California to the hanging wall of Alaska.:” At one time there were no contract reps for the miners, you were on your own. He asked the contract engineer if he could have a kiss. What do you mean, he asked? Red replied, “You know I like to get kissed when I’m getting screwed.” He owned a little gas station out past the overpass on your way to Radium.

Those days were special, when something had to be moved on the rigging crew in Two Shaft, the call would come to Jake the Snake. He was a master at moving hoists up and down the raises and working headings at the Sullivan. There would be triple, double and single pulls that were unbelievable. I can remember going up a raise in the very hot, ugly manway in the unforgettable ‘heaven’, all clear, down comes sixty ton electric hoist, it took out the manway and everything with it. I watched in awe as that hoist made its way down the raise. Jake the Snake didn’t calculate the eye bolts pulling out. But he was the best in my day.

Old One Duck, he was quite a man, being the old timer, when we were out hunting. He would babysit us kids around the fire at Premier ridge, Little Bull Mountain, or up No. 3 creek, which was Francis Creek. He was, one hell of a good guy, worked at the Sullivan. He started at the mine as a strawboss in 1920. He was a machinist at the top mine. In 1943 he was a Safety department inspector. He was on the guard house at the 3900 level in 1962. Do we remember his son George Spud Smith? Spud was a character in his own right.

Sutherland Ross Smith will be remembered as Suds or Old One Duck. He was the one who took care of us young kids while the old man was out hunting, he was my father’s best friend. He was the grand old dad, who showed us the way. He was born in 1897 and took his own life on August 22, 1965. In his back yard, with a double barrel 41-. I will never forget that day, when my father got the news.

Til next week in Scoops. Those people we once knew were special.