Our support for the statue is unwavering - The Chaff with Scott Stephenson

There are moments in the life of a community when an idea arrives so perfectly formed that we immediately understand two things: first, it is obviously a good idea, and second, people are going to argue about it. Such is the peculiar genius of human civilization. We can agree on the existence of gravity, the importance of eating lunch and the general undesirability of being struck by a bus, but introduce the possibility of putting up a statue and suddenly everyone becomes a municipal philosopher. Should it be bronze? Should it be stone? How tall should it be? How much should it cost? Who pays for it? Who maintains it? Who cleans the bird droppings off it? 

 

This, dear readers, is where The Chaff comes in. We have considered the matter carefully, consulted experts, consulted non-experts and even consulted a man at the coffee shop who said, “Well, I don't know, but I think it would be pretty neat.” After considerable research and reflection, we have reached a conclusion that should surprise absolutely nobody: The Chaff supports building the Betty White statue in Wingham. We do not mean this in the tentative newspaper-columnist fashion of “perhaps this might be worth exploring.” We mean it quite plainly. Build the statue. Tell the story. Put up the plaque. Let people take photographs. Let children ask who Betty White was and why she has a connection to Wingham.

 

The connection is especially charming because Wingham was not the centre of Betty White’s career. She did not grow up here, launch her television career here or spend decades walking downtown hoping someone would recognize her. The connection is through her grandmother, which makes it a story about family, migration and the unpredictable paths history takes. Margaret Hobbs was born here, her family moved away, and generations later her granddaughter became Betty White. Sometimes history does its best work when nobody is trying to make history.

 

Imagine a visitor seeing the statue and wondering why Betty White is standing in Wingham. They read the plaque and discover Margaret Hobbs. Perhaps they did not know about the connection before arriving. Perhaps they go home and tell somebody else. Perhaps a child asks who Betty White was, which leads to a conversation about radio, television, comedy and a career that crossed generations. A monument can become a question, and questions are excellent little engines for getting history moving.
Naturally, there are practical matters. Where should the statue go? What should it look like? How should it be funded? What should the plaque say? Who will maintain it? These are reasonable questions, but none of them changes the fundamental answer. 
It was while thinking about these questions that we encountered something considerably less practical. While looking through some old material, we found a book. There was no obvious title, but there was a symbol on the front that looked vaguely like a crown, or perhaps horns, or perhaps a crown worn by somebody with very poor posture. The pages were filled with Latin.
We know approximately three Latin phrases, so we were clearly qualified to investigate it. Carpe diem, right?

 

The first page contained an inscription that seemed to concern eternal remembrance. This appeared promising. We began reading the Latin aloud. Our pronunciation was not impressive. It sounded less like an ancient Roman scholar and more like somebody attempting to order pasta in a restaurant without knowing Italian. Nevertheless, we persisted. The candle flickered. The window rattled. The lights went out and came back on. Then the pages of the book began turning by themselves.
We stopped reading. We closed the book. The book opened again.

 

So let the record show that The Chaff supports building the Betty White statue. Enthusiastically. Unambiguously. The idea has survived questions about cost, location, design and maintenance, and it has even survived one deeply questionable encounter with an ancient Latin book. The statue deserves serious consideration, serious planning and, ideally, serious fundraising. It would give Wingham a memorable way to tell a genuinely local story to residents and visitors alike.

 

The never-changing fact of the matter is that The Chaff remains fully committed to the statue. We support it today, we will support it tomorrow and we intend to continue supporting it for a very long time. There is absolutely nothing that could possibly change that. Certainly not a strange noise coming from the basement, certainly not a Latin inscription appearing overnight and certainly not the possibility that something may have followed us home from the newspaper office.

 

And certainly not October.

 

October is going to be perfectly normal.

 

Almost certainly.