When the Olds & District Evergreen Centre asked me to do a photography show for a date in November about country grain elevators, I was immediately hesitant.
Yes, I had literally thousands of good shots. Many of them as good as one can view anywhere but there was a huge problem. To do this right, one had to present them with an extra shot of passion and knowledge to make the show a winner.
I thought of the Star Man, a fellow whose knowledge and passion about country grain elevators was second to no one in Canada. He agreed to join me for the show and it was a spectacular success because of him.
Sadly, the Star Man, whose health had been failing for quite some time, passed away Dec. 30.
The Star Man was my friend Jim Pearson. He was the Star Man because he was always looking ahead, looking to the future. He was a huge Star Trek fan, whose passion to embrace man’s endless possibilities inspired him to push past any adversity. He was a talented graphic artist whose passion for Star Trek and the future led him to design the famed commemorative star ship in Vulcan. Jim was the Star Man because he wanted a better world in the future for the young, for each and every one of them to never forget where they came from and how.
I first met this lovely man nearly 20 years ago when he was living in Delia. Jim and I instantly became friends with the shared passion for historic country grain elevators. My passion centered around their beauty, how they bonded so perfectly with the wide open expanses of the western flatlands of Canada.
But Jim went much further than this scribbler and shooter. He was determined that everything there was to know about these incredible pioneer structures had to be preserved for future generations. He came to know everything about how country grain elevators were designed, constructed and how they were operated. He built up a database of every grain elevator built, including private ones, across western Canada and beyond.
His never-ending research resulted in four self-published books on grain elevators across western Canada and countless presentations and shows for museums, historical societies and schools. Jim never said no to any request.
Jim and I hooked up for many shoots over the years, including meeting at a ghost town convention in Saskatchewan. Sure, ghost towns are neat but let’s document the old vator over there, was Jim’s battle cry for preservation.
My fondest memory of Jim was spending a day with him a few years ago in Stettler for a photo shoot I had to do of him for a magazine. Sometime earlier, I had discovered the ruins of ancient country grain elevators on a nearby farm that once proudly stood at a whistle stop named Sabine.
Jim and I headed over there, and he became reflective and quiet. He trudged across a ditch and moved up to the farmyard fence for a closer view. There was clear sadness in his eyes. I said it was remarkable that these ruins, probably several decades old, were still around.
“I will have to document these too,” said Jim. “They are important as well, and can never be forgotten.”
On that, Jim and I were perfectly aligned. Our friendship was cemented forever.
And while he may no longer be with us, he has left us with a remarkable legacy. Jim Pearson, as the line in Star Trek goes, went boldly on earth where few bothered even to consider worthwhile. The Star Man still shines brightly above.
Johnnie Bachusky is the editor of the Innisfail Province.
