Category: From the Archives

Behind-the-scenes insights into the inner workings of a community museum and archives.

New insights on the 1956 CT-133 RCAF Callaghan Plane CrashNew insights on the 1956 CT-133 RCAF Callaghan Plane Crash

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Written by Oliver Matisz

After logging 20,900 square miles, 800 flight hours, and involving over a dozen search aircraft, The Royal Canadian Air Force suspended a search for a downed CT-133 jet in April 1956. The search was conducted by sea and air across Vancouver Island, where civilian reports of the crash were made. Two pilots, Flight Officer Gerald Stubbs, 32, and Flight Officer James Miller, 23, went missing on March 22nd while conducting a regular training flight after departing from Comox, British Columbia, intending to fly across the Georgia Strait and then return back.

In March of 2026, the Whistler Museum received photographs and correspondence associated with an August 1997 military recovery mission of the aircraft’s fuselage, which was spotted by a private helicopter pilot fighting fires near Callaghan Lake.  At the time, the Royal Canadian Navy stated publicly that despite four decades having passed since the plane’s disappearance, “aviators have kept a watchful eye over the known flight route throughout the years.” This more substantial 1997 recovery added clarity to a 1974 discovery of the jet’s canopy approximately two kilometers from the original crash site. 

A military helicopter flying over a forested area with mountains in the background.
A military helicopter hovers will conducting recovery operations near Callaghan Lake.

Sergeant Edith Cuerrier was a military photographer dispatched alongside a Flight Crash and Salvage Crew who were flown to Callaghan Lake, about 20 km southwest of Whistler Village, in the first week of August 1997. The lake then served as a base point for military search and rescue helicopter recovery flights to and from the crash site; after initial site inspection of the fuselage it was established that in the absence of ejected aircraft seats, there was no likelihood of finding remains. 

The photography collections donated by Cuerrier encompass a wide array of images, including  technical crash site documentation, salvage crew members actively reviewing flight paths, takeoffs and landings of aircraft, and activities partaken during downtime. The Whistler Museum additionally possesses a fragment of the aircraft’s canopy, some of the plane’s metal tubing, and a helmet of one of the pilots, all of which we received through donation from the Royal Canadian Mounted Police in 2010.  However, for the two pilots’ families, obtaining information on the crash has been a more tedious and complicated process.

In 1987, the late widow of Flight Officer James Miller, Mary Ford, filed a request under the Access to Information Act with the Federal Government, seeking additional closure on her husband’s disappearance. At the time, neither she nor the family of Flight Officer Gerald Stubbs held knowledge of the plane’s canopy being recovered. Ford received a response that included the T 33’s serial number and record that the canopy had indeed been recovered in September 1974, with no further recovery action being warranted at the time. A friend of Gerald Stubbs’ widow noted after the fuselage’s recovery in 1997 that “the history of this has not been one where the family is advised.”

In light of these circumstances, the acquisition of Edith Cuerrier’s work is an important step for our collections in enabling public access to a variety of crash records. With a combination of physical artefacts from the crash site, and newly acquired photographical and textual material; these records will facilitate increased transparency on investigations into the crash.

As a community museum and archives, we endeavour to foster an open collection policy in building knowledge bases and to impartially maintain records. This has aided us in gaining custody of collections surrounding the crash’s history since the early 2000s from a diverse set of donors including both law enforcement agencies and private individuals. These acquisitions  also tie into our broader institutional mandate in considering certain relevant regional history beyond Whistler’s municipal boundaries. 

We further recognize how a historic absence of answers has negatively impacted the lost pilots’ families, and hope that our stewardship of these records can serve to preserve the memory of Flight Officers Gerald Stubbs and James Miller.

Oliver Matisz is one of two Collections Coordinators at the Whistler Museum this summer, supported through the Young Canada Works Program.

The Whistler Town CrierThe Whistler Town Crier

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By Anna Donaldson

Since Whistler became a Resort Municipality in 1975, the community has had a handful of newspapers, from the Whistler Question to the Whistler Answer, and of course the Pique Newsmagazine. One of these was The Whistler Town Crier, a biweekly newspaper first published on September 7, 1994. Edited and published by Jacquie McCarnan, with Peter O’Donnell as assistant editor, the paper ran for just one volume of approximately 17 issues.It was edited and published by Jacquie McCarnan, with Peter O’Donnell as the assistant editor.

Jacquie and Peter moved to Whistler in 1992 near the end of the recession that hit Canada in the early 1990s. They quickly secured jobs in Whistler, but noticed that there was a “gap in the reporting”. The Whistler Answer closed down not long after they moved to Whistler in August of 1993, and the only news was coming from the Whistler Question. McCarnan herself remembered the Whistler Question being more of a “corporate” newspaper. McCarnan and O’Donnell saw an opening for a newspaper that covered the news McCarnan believed the Whistler Question was neglecting, and that focused on different aspects of the local community. McCarnan had a degree in Political Science with a minor in English, and O’Donnell had a History degree. They had no experience running a newspaper, but were determined to try. In an interview, McCarnan, stated that they “wanted to put something out there that was positive and reflective of the community that we were living in.” In 1994, Whistler had about a third of its current population, and McCarnan and O’Donnell aimed to make a newspaper that connected with the locals. Most of the articles and columns in The Town Crier focused on local issues no matter how small.

The Whistler Town Crier had a few local columns, but one of the newspaper’s most notorious columns was “Ask Uncle Willie”. This was a satirical column where readers could write in about problems in their lives and ask Uncle Willie for advice. Readers would write under silly pseudonyms, and Uncle Willie would respond with ironic answers. McCarnan revealed that Uncle Willie was written by Bill Pauline, whom she worked with at Wild Willies. McCarnan stated that Bill was her own ‘Uncle Willie’ in a sense, giving her advice that didn’t need to be taken seriously. When she was looking for more contributors to The Town Crier, he was happy to write his own regular column.

Cover page of 'The Town Crier' newspaper featuring an illustration of a person with a globe and shopping bag, promoting internet access and classifieds, dated March 1995.
March 21, 1995 issue of The Whistler Town Crier Vol. 1 No. 14.

While the “Ask Uncle Willie” column was satirical, the rest of the newspaper was sincere. Even when writers covered topics that didn’t focus on Whistler, they always managed to tie in a local perspective. For example, Peter O’Donnell’s article “What The Hell Is the Internet” explained how citizens would benefit from the newly incorporated invention of the internet (in 1995). The article highlighted Armchair Books as a local business where residents could pick up the Canadian Internet Handbook. It also referenced how people moved to Whistler from all over the world, and that the internet could help keep them connected to their friends and family, as well as news from home.

When The Town Crier was only four issues in, the Pique Newsmagazine started. The Pique had Bob Barnett, former editor of the Whistler Question, and other financial resources that the Town Crier lacked. Funded largely from McCarnan and O’Donnell’s own pockets, the Town Crier struggled to compete for advertising dollars with the Question and the Pique, eventually forcing it to close. “When you’re in competition, like in a small town, the stores … [and] the restaurants aren’t making a ton of money and they have three different people asking them for money for the same thing. They’re going to pick the one they think is going to get the most eyeballs,” McCarnan stated.

Though The Whistler Town Crier was short-lived, its impact on McCarnan lasted longer. She recalled that the paper “informed the way that [she] lived the rest of [her] life,” allowing her future projects to be “positive and reflective of the community” around her. Looking back more than 30 years later, McCarnan felt that despite the paper’s limited resources, “we did a great job for what we did.”

Anna Donaldson is the Summer Program Coordinator at the Whistler Museum through the Young Canada Works Program.

Dairy Delivery by Dugout: Local Cream and Cow’s Milk Carted by CanoeDairy Delivery by Dugout: Local Cream and Cow’s Milk Carted by Canoe

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Featured Image: A dairy cow at the Barnfield Farm [1920s]. Whistler Museum Collection.

The lay of the local landscape was much different in the early 1900s. The area’s epicentre was Alta Lake. Prospecting, trapping and logging, followed by fishing and later farming dominated, giving reason and rise to the development of a small community and a handful of lodges in the valley beneath London Mountain. 

London Mountain (since renamed Whistler) likely earned the named due to a group of original prospectors who formed The London Group in 1903. One of those early prospectors was Alfred Barnfield. 

Barnfield left London, England, arriving in Squamish in 1886 or 1887. He was later hired to inspect the length of the Pemberton Trail. The rough route ran from Burrard Inlet to Squamish up through the area now known as the Whistler Valley northward to Pemberton and onto Lillooet. First developed with the intention to access the Interior’s goldrush and as a cattle trail, the route was completed in 1887. It remained the only way to access Alta Lake (then called Summit, but renamed for the purposes of mail delivery, for there were too many Summit Lakes in the province, with the establishment of the area’s first Post Office in 1915) up until the arrival of the Pacific Great Eastern Railway in 1914. It was through Barnfield’s inspection that he first came to visit the shores of the lake where he would establish a farm some years later. 

Barnfield returned to Alta Lake, pre-empting 160 acres of Crown Land on its northeast end, in 1905. Pre-emption was a practice common in British Columbia in the late 1800s to early 1900s, which allowed settlers to acquire Crown Land for development and agriculture. After improving it, the land could be purchased at a low price. As per the agreement with the government, Barnfield was required to build a cabin and clear a portion of the land. To do so, he backpacked building supplies over the Pemberton Trail from Squamish.

Barnfield continued to prospect with the London Group, staking claims in the Garibaldi/Black Tusk area.

On August 1, 1910 Alfred Barnfield married Daisy Hotchkiss. He was 42, she was 19. Despite the age difference, the marriage appeared to be a loving one and the two raised four children. 

The Barnfield Farm had 14 cows at the peak of its production, chickens and a few pigs. Alta Lake was becoming a fishing destination with the opening of Rainbow Lodge in 1915 and subsequent establishments opening up around Alta lake. The Barnfield family’s farm was able to fulfill a local much-appreciated-niche: daily fresh milk and cream delivery. They fulfilled orders by dugout canoe. Groceries and dry staples were able to be delivered by train, coming north from Vancouver; however, fresh dairy demanded local production. In a 1993 interview with the Museum, Alfred’s daughter Vera, reminiscessed about how he made his deliveries every day, even when the weather was questionable. “He never missed a morning and sometimes it would be so stormy he just couldn’t hardly make that canoe go.”  Whatever the weather, Alfred would end his deliveries with a visit to Rainbow Lodge, where he would be brought up to date on all the local gossip of the burgeoning lake community … which would then be repeated and rowed around!

Rainbow Lodge was the largest customer of the Barnfield Farm, reputedly purchasing 80 quarts of milk, four quarts of whipping cream and two quarts of table cream daily for their guests.

The Barnfields moved their farm operation to Brakendale in 1926. However, every summer, they continued to load their cows and chickens onto the Pacific Great Eastern Railway (PGE) and travel north to Alta Lake. How long they continued this practice is unconfirmed, however the Barnfields did maintain full ownership of their quarter-section up until the 1970s. 

Alfred Barnfield passed away in 1960, shortly after celebrating his 50th wedding anniversary to Daisy, who passed in 1980. 

In the early 1970s, the bulk of the property was sold for the development of the Whistler Cay subdivision and Adventures West. Small lots were left to the three remaining Barnfield children (one died in WWII). The remaining 1 ⅓ acres was sold in 1988, becoming ‘Barnfield Place’, a nod to the legacy of initial local land development.

Just because it was documented, doesn’t mean we have it…Just because it was documented, doesn’t mean we have it…

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The archives depends on you: dispelling some misconceptions about the process of building the Museum’s collection

 “Archives are the documentary by-product of human activity retained for their long-term value. […] Like people, archives are diverse,” explains the International Council on Archives.

In simple terms, the archives is a euphemism for a ‘collection of story parts.’

In a recent Pique article, I, the Whistler Museum’s Events and Community Manager, was quoted as saying, “an archive is a living, breathing, exciting thing. ‘Archive’ is a verb.”

The action of the archive, however, is only expanded by donations of materials; adding chapters, pages, periods and punctuation to the make-up of a place… and herein, lies one of the major misunderstandings on how the broadening of our museum collection works.* Just because an event happened and it was photographed, or a document was produced relating to the town in some way – does not automatically mean that we have it.

In short, the archive is infused by gifting. We are dependent on donations This can also mean that the archive can be disproportionately reflective of a place’s demographic. This, too, is true for our Whistler archive.

The Museum’s archive can be viewed as an ever-expanding puzzle; whilst we try to configure matching pieces and identify those missing. The process is equally as diverse as the people and collections who breathe life into it: a reciprocal exchange between gifting and receiving.

The local archive is only made broader — more reflective of those who have, and still do, live here – by donations of material: from physical elements (text, photographs, video/film assets) to non-physical ‘oral histories’ that people come in and record. The Museum’s repository is expanded by people contributing to being part of place-making and meaning. Please never underestimate the value of your experience. The Museum does not have an age limit.

Speakers Series are also a valuable way of documenting reflections and past events, recording our stories through the power of conversations — which add to the record — becoming platforms for thought. Again, I was cited in the same March 20th article by Luke Faulks as saying: “…a museum is an exciting place. Your history sheds light on your present, and it’s a springboard for how we inform our future.”

The Museum invites you to become an active participant and co-creator of our storied happenings by attending one of our events, by volunteering to record your tale or by donating relevant items you may have.

This segues into another often misunderstood element of how the Museum is able to process items received. It’s not instantaneous.

 We are a not-for-profit organization that operates with a small staff of three. Currently, we have an additional person added to the team, hired under contract for the sole purpose of inventorying, appraising, processing (arranging and describing) the donation of the Bruce Rowles 70,000+ photographic collection. This entire process has already taken seven months, working full time, and is still ongoing. Ideally, the last step for archivists is to digitize our collections, which is important for preservation of degrading materials and for easy access to these images. The process is time and labour-intensive. A collection of 20,000 images could take one year to digitize, ensuring it meets Canadian archival standards. It is, however, a donation we are exceedingly happy and grateful to receive: a benefit to the entire community. Bruce wanted to ensure his life’s work would be remembered and appreciated. A selection of his photography will be exhibited at the Whistler Museum from April 24th to June 14th.

As further means of perspective, the Whistler Museum’s entire photographic collection currently exceeds 300, 000 items.  With the addition of the Rowles collection, it will be nearing 400, 000. We have approximately 90, 000 of those items digitized. We try to make many of those items available through a variety of means: from special exhibitions, to being posted on our social media networks, online on our archival database to highlighting them through articles and being featured in events.

The local archives is an expansive and immersive space: infused by your continuous contributions into the building of a pastiche-of-place.

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*It would be remiss of us not to acknowledge the past wrongs associated with many colonial museum practices: with a legacy of taking, extracting without permission and stealing from Peoples. The Whistler Museum has participated in the repatriating of some items that were donated, that we did not feel were ours to have. Together, we learn through the past how to co-create collaborative futures…