I have used the same large pine desk for almost half my life now, and for reasons that I am about to share, consider it sacred.
As a journalist working in Northern Ontario in the 1980s, I was given the marvelous opportunity to cover a story that was taking place in the bowels of the world’s deepest (2.42 km) nickel mine. A very successful experiment was taking place that involved growing fir saplings underground, all with an eye to reforestation in the immediate area. Given the controlled environment, the project was proving very successful. Years later, this same mine would house what amounted to a neutrino laboratory, and which would eventually develop into what is now a huge underground physics laboratory! But back to the eighties and my journey to Middle Earth.
When I arrived at the mine site, I was struck by how moon-like the area around the mine appeared and found it hard to believe that the busy town of Creighton, recently razed, had ever existed. It was less than a ghost town now; it was practically non-existent.
The most memorable incident of that day was the ride down in the elevator. I had been in old cage-like elevators before, but this one stands out in my memory. Crammed into a relatively small space with a crowd of male reporters and photographers, the lift descending at what seemed like breakneck speed, I stood confidently, front and centre, as if I did this every day, my fear safely in check… until someone helpfully pointed out to me that I was standing directly above the emergency trapdoor. We were packed in like sardines, so with nowhere to go, I straddled the trapdoor and clasped the sleeves of startled journalists on either side. My only consolation in those memorable moments was that no one took a picture!
Vivid memories aside, back to my desk. I would discover, shortly after my memorable journey to the centre of the earth, that a group of older, retired miners were also very talented carpenters. Much of the residuals from the demolition of the Town of Creighton were made available to these talented artisans and they crafted some beautiful pieces of furniture. This is how I came to be sitting at a desk made from pine pews that once lined a church, demolished along with other buildings within the ghost town of Creighton.
The surface of my Creighton Mine desk bears witness to thousands of ideas and notes impaled upon the soft pine surface over these many years. It also serves as a constant reminder to check out for trapdoors in this life!
