There are moments when Golden reveals exactly what kind of community it is.
This was one of those moments.
If you were in town this past Saturday afternoon, you may have seen something a little unusual. A long procession of logging trucks made its way through town in tribute to a local logging truck driver who had recently passed away, tragically and unexpectedly. The trucks were on their way to the service, a celebration of his life, carrying with them friends, coworkers and a great deal of respect.
I had chosen a spot where I knew I would be able to watch them pass. One after another they came, their empty trailers rising behind them, the line stretching far down the road. These were not polished parade floats or ceremonial vehicles. They were working trucks, driven by working people, honouring one of their own in the most fitting way they could.
It was powerful to witness.
I did not know him well, so I cannot pretend to tell his story. That belongs to the people who knew and loved him best. But I would like to think that I know Golden, and I understood something of what that procession meant.
Logging trucks are part of the rhythm of this town. We hear them early in the morning and see them travelling through the valley in every kind of weather. Behind each wheel is someone doing demanding, skilled and often dangerous work.
The logging industry has helped build this community. Loggers, truck drivers, mill workers, equipment operators and their families are part of Golden’s backbone. Their work has supported households, businesses, schools, sports teams and community organizations for generations. It is woven into who we are.
As the thirty or so trucks rolled past, the procession felt larger than a farewell to one man. It was also a reminder of the bonds that form among people who share the same roads, the same work and the same small town.
In Golden, our lives overlap in countless ways. We work together. Our children grow up together. We meet at the rink, the grocery store, the coffee shop and community events. We celebrate births, weddings, graduations and victories together.
And when the time comes, we grieve together too.
There is something deeply moving about seeing a community pause its ordinary routines to acknowledge a loss. No words were needed. The trucks themselves carried the message: he mattered. His life and his work will not be forgotten. His family does not stand alone.
What a remarkable and fitting tribute it was: one final convoy through the community he called home.
Rest in peace, Dale.
