Remembering Bernie

In the midst of everything else, sad news about a compadre from the Miriamichi. Word arrived via email that Bernie Williams had passed away and I wanted to say a few words about my relationship with him.
It was probably 1986 or 87 when I made my first trip to the Miramichi as an adult while accompanying my good friend Florent, entered in what was to become the first of a few Black Jack curling bonspiels. This was small town Canada at it's best and while similar events were played out every winter in a hundred other mining towns across the country, it is doubtful that many could boast of as unique a character as Bernie.
We first met when Florent dragged me to the 'Low Tide' for refreshments, almost immediately after arriving in Newcastle.....little did I know how my future was to become entwined with this establishment.
Bernie, whom Florent knew quite well from Heath Steele days, was now the owner. He had postponed, as it turned out, his adventuresome days as an underground miner to run his new investment.
We weren't seated for more than a few minutes when Bernie immediately recognized Florent, joined us, introduced himself to me and bought us a beer. The conversation began and ended with mining and I don't know if I have, or will, ever, meet anyone so knowledgeable and experienced about the practical aspects of the business. And funny.....within a matter of minutes I was laughing so hard I almost fell out of my chair. This was a characteristic of Bernie's that I learned to look forward to at every meeting... and fortunately there were many, at different venues... over the next ten years or so.
He was a man out of place and although I didn't immediately recognize how much he ached to return to the mining business, it became evident several years later when I also found myself living on the Miramichi. Several more curling bonspiels had come and gone by that time....along with a few more visits to the Low Tide. It got to the point where I was going there to listen to Bernie's story's and he was looking forward to telling them.
I don't know if he ever realized the impact he had on me. He had relocated his family to the Miramichi after years at a mine in Brazil. Listening to his stories about the trials and tribulations instilled in me the confidence to look further afield for work when I had the opportunity several years later. By that time there had been more than a few casual get togethers. Thanks to Florent, I had been adopted into an ancient Miramichi mining alumni that provided invaluable instruction in the ways of curling, golf and mining. Bernie was a fixture at all of the sessions and invariably I found myself drawn to his side, in many respects like student to teacher.
It was not possible to be in his company for more than a few minutes and not laugh...and laugh hard. No matter what the topic, no matter the place, no matter the time. Among the alumni, laughter was a priority and Bernie was the king.
It was inevitable that he return to the mining business and so he did by taking on a challenging project in Tanzania. Our meetings became less frequent as we were both working out of the country. When we did meet, there was a new enthusiasm about him, he was in the game... he was a player.
The Miramichi mining alumni was proud and not a little bit jealous. Although I wasn't around as much as I wanted to be by that time, I noticed.
Some of my most cherished memories are of Sunday afternoons at the MGCC, eighteen holes in, three or four pitchers down and the lies starting. It becomes apparent to me that when the inevitable mining stories begin, and Bernie starts to speak, it's not just me listening, everyone is leaning forward to hear what he has to say....