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The Ruttle Report - Losing people hurts; losing an identity is painful too

"It feels like the identity of my beloved hometown is being taken away...."
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The most basic and utterly simple truth about life is that it goes on. That's just what it does.

On some days, it can certainly feel like as if it just jets by all of us without a moment's notice; you blink, and suddenly four months have passed. Other times, it can also feel like as if it's crawling by with the speed of a snail on an overdose of Valium; we're all just working for the weekend, so let's have it arrive already!

But the plain old truth of it all is that time does pass. It doesn't go by quicker and it doesn't go by slower; it just keeps going on, at the same pace, day in and day out, which of course turns into week in and week out, month in and month out, and finally we start talking years, and you see where I'm going with this.

It just keeps....going on.

In my case, I'm finding that when you no longer live in your hometown, the time just seems to get away from you, and you suddenly start to lose people who you never expected to die, or at least, not now.

I've been able to call Outlook my home for the past two years, but I'm a very strong 'West-sider' from that other side of the South Saskatchewan River. Is this the part where music comes in, signalling that I'm a guy from the "wrong side of the tracks"? I was raised in Conquest, grew up in Conquest, and my life was in Conquest. A guy could go anywhere in life, but at the end of the day, I'll always be a Conquest Kid from the village once known as the Caragana Capital.

But when I look back at the last few years in my cherished hometown, a heartbreaking picture starts to take shape as I realize that too many local legends have passed away; the people who really helped make Conquest what it was and the place that I knew as a kid. People like my parents, but also the people from other families and lineages. They were the people that made it truly unique and special.

Russ Wyatt was 73 when he passed just a few months ago in August of this year. Russ, or 'Ott', was very well known in the community, whether it was working with the Conquest Merchants senior hockey team, or working on the fire department where he once served as Chief, or his time spent with the Conquest Elks organization.

When I was a kid, I knew Ott as the local garbageman as he would rumble down everyone's back alley driving a tractor and pulling a wagon trailer, which he would use to transport household waste and refuse. I still remember the tractor; that old tan-colored machinery had a very distinct sound that I remembered as a kid and whenever I heard it, I'd shout out to my parents, "Oh, sounds like Ott's on his way down the alley!"

I remember that us Conquest kids would ask our parents if we could go on Russ's route with him, giving him a hand as he went about his work. I know, it might sound weird reading this, but yeah, us small town kids actually WANTED to hop on the tractor with our local garbageman and go on his route with him! I remember going out with Russ a few times, and the jokes and small talks helped the day move along faster.

Coincidentally, and heartbreakingly so, Russ's brother Arnie Wyatt passed away just two months later in October, so just a few weeks ago. Arnie, or 'Nick', was 71 years old, and like his brother Ott, it seemed like everyone had a story about him. There was just something about those Wyatt boys, I'll tell ya.

Nick was a good man. He was always ready with a joke or a witty comeback line, and when the mood was all about having a good time, he was the one who tried his damndest to keep the party going. When my mom had the bar in Conquest, she enlisted Nick to host karaoke nights on many, many occasions. If it was Halloween, it was Karaoke Night. If it was Christmas, it was Karaoke Night. And they were always popular evenings. I can remember on more than a few occasions when things were bundling up in my mom's mind and she was worrying about this or that, Nick would throw on an Elvis tune and serenade her for a few minutes, and that was enough to lift her cheeks and put a smile on her face. I loved watching my mom in moments like that. Thanks, Nick.

And now, once again unfortunately, Conquest has lost yet another local legend in the form of Scott Latimer, or 'Wacky' as everyone knew him. Scott was 61.

Do you see a pattern forming here? Yes sir, about 98% of all Conquest people from a certain generation were given a nickname that stuck with them for the rest of their lives.

Scott was, to put it simply, a character. Yes, his nickname was a blatantly obvious reference to his indulgence of choice, that being "wacky tobackey"....or marijuana, to just get it out of the way. But Scott was, at the very root of his character, a good guy. It wouldn't seem to matter if he himself was going through his own litany of problems; if he heard that someone was feeling down or had to get some things off his chest, then he was there to be a sounding board for you.

I'm obviously not the only person who feels this way, because Scott's impact on people is pretty evident by the fact that a GoFundMe crowdfunding campaign online that's been collecting donations for the family has been nothing short of a massive success. With an original goal of collecting $3000, that number has been eclipsed and as of this writing, the amount collected so far has soared past $5000 and counting.

Realizing that too many people who you knew growing up have passed away is hard, especially when three of them leave this earth in just as many months. It tells you something about the speed in which time goes by, and it also says something about a community losing a piece of its identity.

Whether it's the people or the sense of community, there's no other way to say it - loss hurts.

For this week, that's been the Ruttle Report.

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