Ernie Coombs and Judith Lawrence visiting children at the Vernon Jubilee Hospital in 1970.
A beloved Canadian Icon
He was Canada’s own “Mister Rogers” (in fact, he actually served as understudy to Fred Rogers for several years); Ernie Coombs, known more often under his stage name Mr. Dressup, was an iconic Canadian children’s entertainer whose TV show ran on the CBC for nearly 30 years. He also visited Vernon on several occasions, to the delight of many of the city’s children.
Coombs was born in Lewiston, Maine, in 1927. After attending North Yarmouth Academy, he pursued a career in children’s entertainment. In the early ‘60s, he worked as an assistant puppeteer for Mr. Rogers on The Children’s Corner. Rogers was offered a show in 1962 at the CBC, and he invited Coombs to join him in Canada, where they worked on an earlier version of Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood.
MR. DRESSUP AIRS
Upon his departure from Canada three years later, Rogers recommended Coombs to the CBC, and the latter began working on a new production called Butternut Square. After this show ended, Coombs developed Mr. Dressup, which aired for the first time in 1967. The show consisted of arts, crafts, songs, stories and games for children, presented by Coombs and his friends Casey and Finnegan, a child and a dog who lived in a treehouse in Mr. Dressup’s back yard.
In 1970, Coombs, along with his principal puppeteer Judith Lawrence, traveled to Vernon. They visited the children’s ward of the Vernon Jubilee Hospital, where the patients were delighted to meet Casey and Finnegan. Coombs visited the City several other times, including in the 1980s when he hosted a performance at the Vernon Recreation Centre, which drew in crowds of not just young children, but older siblings and adults as well.
The final episode of Mr. Dressup was taped on February 14, 1996. That same year, Coombs received the Order of Canada, after becoming a Canadian Citizen two years earlier. Ernie Coombs died on September 18, 2001, at the age of 73.
To explore more of Vernon’s history, check out our other blog posts!
The Okanagan Historical Society (OHS) recently announced the release of its 87th annual report. This year’s report, like those before it, is full of fascinating stories of the Valley’s people and places. Moreover, considering that the first was published all the way back in 1926, the reports also provide an invaluable source of anecdotal evidence.
The history of the Society itself is just as fascinating as the stories its members have so dutifully collected for nearly a century. Although the OHS is now composed of seven branches ranging as far north as Salmon Arm and as far south as Osoyoos, the society actually started in Vernon. On September 4, 1925, a group of citizens held a meeting at the Vernon City Hall to discuss the formation of a society focused on “historical, topographical and natural history research in connection with the whole of the Okanagan Valley.”
Leonard Norris circa 1925.
Leonard Norris becomes first president
Leonard Norris, the City’s Government Agent since 1893, was selected as the Society’s first president. Norris and his fellow elected officers set to the task of preparing a constitution for the society, based roughly on that in use by the B.C. Historical Society. Overtime, community members from the surrounding districts were also elected to the Society’s Executive Council.
In a public statement following the formation of the OHS, Norris suggested that the history of the B.C. Interior had yet to be properly investigated, and that the Society hoped to rectify this. Its members set to writing a series of articles covering the post-contact history of the Okanagan Valley and by 1935, the first five reports had been published.
The notion of the region’s untapped historical potential must have resonated with many of the Valley’s citizens, as within ten years, the Society’s membership had grown to 205. In later years, this number would reach into the thousands.
Diversification
The OHS took a hiatus from publishing between 1931 and 1935, while it faced the impact of the Great Depression. The sixth report, when it was finally released in 1935, brought with a new tone and pace for future ones; it was printed on glossy paper, and contained a wealth of information spanning 309 pages. The society weathered the storm of World War Two, and in 1948 begin publishing a report each year.
As the years went on, the Society pursued a number of notable projects aside from the publication of the report, including the mapping of the Fur Brigade Trails in the Okanagan and Similkameen-Hope areas, and the preservation of the original Fairview town-site. Additionally, the Vernon branch has published a number of other historical best-sellers, including Water from the Hills: The Story of Irrigation in the Vernon District, by local author Peter Tassie. The report itself has also seen a natural diversification of its content to include Indigenous history and other multicultural stories.
The 87th Report of the Okanagan Historical Society can be purchased from the Museum & Archives of Vernon for $30.00. The museum and archives encourages those interested in local history to support te Society by becoming a member of the Vernon Branch. To learn more, click here.
To explore more of Vernon’s history, check out our other blog posts!
Dr. Williams circa 1920; the Vernon Archives does not have a photograph of Miss Gallaher in their collection.
“Resignation of the Hospital Staff”
“Matron and Nurses Relinquish Their Positions on April 2,” read a shocking headline in the Vernon News of March 28, 1912. This dramatic act of protest was initiated by the Vernon Jubilee Hospital’s Lady Superintendent, Minnie Katherine Gallaher, in response to what she deemed a “long series of indignities suffered by her and her staff at the hands of Dr. Williams.”
Miss Gallaher was born in Kingston, Ontario, in 1880, and came to VJH in 1909, after seven years as Assistant Superintendent at the Carlton County Hospital in Ottawa. On March 22, 1912, she sent a long letter to the hospital’s directors (which was also published in the Vernon News) describing Dr. Williams behavior.
“Charges against a doctor”
One particular situation saw a confusion over who should be administering a sedative to a patient, resulting in Dr. Williams screaming that “too long had nurses been dictating and he wouldn’t allow it.” He proceeded to “dance with rage and more profanity was used,” after which he subjected Miss Gallaher to a five or ten minute diatribe, “continually interspersing his remarks with profanity.”
Dr. Williams was given a chance to defend himself against the accusations, and although the hospital board concluded by sustaining the nurses’ charges and warning the doctor to not behave in such a manner again, he was allowed to continue working at the hospital. This decision is what caused all of the nurses to resign in a considerable show of solidarity.
“Respectfully Yours, M. Katherine Gallaher”
Dr. Gerald Williams arrived in Vernon in 1894, after training at the St. Thomas’s Hospital in London, England. He was known as the bitter enemy of not only Miss Gallaher, but another local doctor as well, Osborne Morris. It is perhaps telling, therefore, that Dr. Morris was described as a “genial and cordial gentleman” and had a particular kindliness when working with children.
By April of 1912, the nurses had been replaced by 8 others, which was just as well, as there were 40 patients in the hospital that month. Miss Gallaher continued to have a successful healthcare career, serving as Assistant Superintendent at the Vancouver General Hospital and later Superintendent at the Moose Jaw General Hospital. Dr. Williams carried on practicing in Vernon for many years and is believed to have died around 1935.
To explore more of Vernon’s history, check out our other blog posts!
2023 has been reported as Canada’s worst fire season. Although this fact cannot be denied, it may or may not provide some comfort to know that folks in and around Vernon have been battling blazes for hundreds of years.
Traditionally, the Indigenous inhabitants of the Okanagan-Similkameen areas practiced controlled burning as a means to maintain forest and grassland ecosystems. Once settlers arrived in the area, the Vernon News, then a farm and livestock journal, often featured advice on how to protect one’s property from fire damage. For example, an 1894 article states, in no uncertain terms, that “the cutting and clearing away of the forest for a radius around the settlement sufficient to ensure safety would be neither an expensive nor a laborious undertaking.”
1900s-1910s
A heatwave in May of 1901 wreaked havoc on the Valley, and the South Okanagan was particularly hard-hit. A forest fire near what is now the Nickel Plate Nordic Centre outside of Penticton saw bridges and culverts burn down, and fallen timber litter the road. At the same time, the whole town of Fairview (now a ghost town) came out to fight a fire that was creeping towards their properties down a nearby gully.
In 1912, the newspaper printed “Six Good Rules for Care with Fire in the Mountains,” one of which was a reminder to knock out one’s pipe ashes or throw cigar and cigarette stumps only where there is nothing to catch fire. In 1922, the “cigarette menace” was once again discussed, with the paper reporting that hundreds of the fires recorded that year in Canada were “due to the evil habit of tossing away lighted tobacco.”
1920s-1950s and beyond
Sometime in the late 1920s, Silver Star Mountain experienced a devastating fire, which was unfortunately not unusual for the region as evidenced by the installation of a forest fire lookout at the mountain’s summit more than two decades earlier. In the spring of 1930, Bill Osborn, David Ricardo, and Michael Freeman became among the first to ski down the mountain – and later described seeing a number of snags (still-standing dead trees) that have been destroyed by this fire a few years earlier.
In July of 1940, a series of forest fires ravaged the Sugar Lake area. Men were pulled away from their homes and work to fight the blazes, which finally abated thanks to heavy rain. In 1950, a mid-summer fire at Kingfisher was finally brought under control after several long weeks. Fires continued to ravage the Okanagan Valley in the years following, including the unforgettable White Rock Lake fire of 2021.
Thankfully, the area’s inhabitants have demonstrated their resiliency in the face of nature’s wrath time-and-time again, helped along at times by some much-needed rain.
To explore more of Vernon’s history, check out our other blog posts!
Stewart Bain’s cross, photographed by Nancy Josland Dalsin and courtesy of FindAGrave.
A sad Story
A lonely cross tucked in a quiet corner of Vernon’s Pleasant Valley Cemetery reveals a sad story. On November 23, 1913, 24-year-old Stewart Bain was electrocuted while working on a power pole at the corner of 32nd Street and Coldstream Avenue, and was killed instantly.
Stewart was born on May 1, 1888, in Nova Scotia; in the 1901 Canadian Census, he is recorded as the adopted son of 78-year-old Ronald McDonald. In 1911, he was boarding in Hants, Nova Scotia, and working as a Blacksmith.
A silver lining
By 1913, he was working as part of a Vancouver Electric Company crew that traveled to Vernon to work for the City.
An inquest after his death determined that he had accidentally come in contact with a live wire while performing his work. His funeral was held 10 days later, and it is said that all electric linemen and groundmen in the city’s employ were in attendance. Although he had only been in Vernon for a few months, Stewart Bain was well-respected, made evident by an outpouring of floral tributes.
This tragedy did have a silver lining, though, as the investigations into the incident led to a tightening of safety protocols for electric workers across the province.
To explore more of Vernon’s history, check out our other blog posts!
For the summer months, we are thrilled to present a series of blog posts by Collections Intern Rebeka Beganova. Rebeka (she/her) is a post-secondary student with a passion for research, literature, and history. Having completed an Associate of Arts Degree at Okanagan College, she is glad to be joining the MAV team during her last summer in Vernon before heading off to UBC Vancouver. There is no better way to say goodbye to her hometown than to explore its local history!
E. Pauline Johnson, photographed ca. 1895. Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons (Public Domain).
“Unforeseen audacities”
In April of 1899, a shining star passed through Vernon that turned many curious heads. Emily Pauline Johnson, Indigenous poet and reciter, came to town for a week of performance and thrilling sensation. Her appearances quickly became the center of local attention. Johnson was indeed already a figure of well-known talent. Her stay in Vernon earned her a spotlight in the papers and praise from an audience self-reportedly “not the easiest persons in the world to please.” Her likeableness stemmed – for this city’s folk – from her eloquence, captivation, humour, and humility. In one sitting, she could put her audience in stitches, then minutes later mesmerize them with heart-stopping lyrics.
Her popularity may be surprising to us now, knowing what we do about the social dynamics in 1899. We may wonder what it was like for Johnson, as an Indigenous woman, to stand alone before an overwhelmingly white audience holding, at best, thinly-veiled racist attitudes. Reports about Johnson bear the mark of white bias; her style is described as “full of unforeseen audacities” and at the same time, “a lofty strain of the purest patriotism.” Especially compared to Johnson’s own self-image, these interpretations call into question whether the audience, who so adored E. Pauline Johnson, really understood her messages at all.
Tekahionwake
Johnson was half Indigenous and half English. Her father, G.H.M. Johnson, was Chief of the Mohawk Tribe, part of the Iroquois Six Nations. Her mother, Emily S. Howell, hailed from Bristol. Much of Pauline Johnson’s writing centered around her Indigenous background and emphasized the relationship – the violence and disrespect – spearheaded by white settlers toward her people. She went by her Mohawk name, Tekahionwake, just as her father had his: Onwanonsyshon.
Her pride in her Indigenous identity further muddles Vernon’s reaction to her performances. It is hard to imagine the population of 1899 welcoming with open arms a public figure that challenged so many of their social, political, and religious convictions. Much of her poetry was not subtle, either. “A Cry from an Indian Wife,” for example, concludes with the lines: “By right, by birth we Indians own these lands, / Though starved, crushed, plundered, lies our nation low. / Perhaps the white man’s God has willed it so.” Her meaning is unmistakable.
Message not received
The prolific poet passed away in Vancouver in 1913 after battling cancer. News of her death reached Vernon to much despair and grief. An article was published in the Vernon News detailing her passing, an article that spanned two entire page-long columns. The account included a short description of her early life as well as her accomplishments as an artist. It was undeniably a heart-felt tribute.
It is left for us to ponder, then, the paradox of E. Pauline Johnson’s impact and the simultaneous persistence of unchecked anti-Indigenous racism in Vernon. Her words pierced so deeply, yet her message was somehow lost in translation – ignored, as is very likely the case. Johnson’s denunciation of colonialism must be remembered now, even if it was not then. The introduction to her book, The Shagganappi, quotes of her: “Never let anyone call me a white woman. There are those who think they pay me a compliment in saying that I am just like a white woman. My aim, my joy, my pride is to sing the glories of my own people.”
To explore more of Vernon’s history, check out our other blog posts!
For the summer months, we are thrilled to present a series of blog posts by Collections Intern Rebeka Beganova. Rebeka (she/her) is a post-secondary student with a passion for research, literature, and history. Having completed an Associate of Arts Degree at Okanagan College, she is glad to be joining the MAV team during her last summer in Vernon before heading off to UBC Vancouver. There is no better way to say goodbye to her hometown than to explore its local history!
Butter declaration form used in WWII, exact year unknown. Like the canning sugar forms, they resemble our current-day tax returns.
Every so often, Vernonites may get the feeling that their city is somewhat sheltered from the goings-on of the wider world. Living in the shadow of Canada’s largest metropolises – especially Vancouver – seems to soften the blow of international events. However, some events are so large-scale that they inevitably seep into even the most secluded kitchens of our city. World War II was one such event.
The Mechanics of Rationing
On November 4, 1942, the President of the Vernon Board of Trade announced the formation of a local ration board. It was high time for this development: 32 of the 33 BC municipalities had already formed theirs. Ration laws themselves were not established immediately, and meat rationing actually began half a year later, in May of 1943. News articles throughout April mused about what the future policies would look like; each person (and baby) was estimated to receive two pounds of meat per week, and rationed meat was to include beef, pork, and “the lowly but popular sausage, in all its forms.” The BC Loggers Association was already up in arms, advocating for a greater allowance for labourers. Café proprietors rightly predicted ‘meatless days’ for their businesses.
The eventual rationing regulations were perhaps stricter than some were imagining. Ration books and coupons basically became the new currency: as such, they were treated like true treasure. It was illegal to possess a ration book belonging to someone outside your household, and retail food operators were required to open Ration Bank Accounts. Those tempted to dodge around these laws were threatened with up to two years’ imprisonment, as well as up to $5000 in fines.
A spoonful of sugar, an ounce of beef
Sugar and meat quickly became two of the most precious resources in Vernon. The prior remained on the rationing list for two years after WWII ended and for five years in total. It was possibly the hardest ingredient to limit, as evidenced by the fact that canning sugar and sugar for cooking rhubarb were subject to separate policies. Applications for canning sugar resembled our current tax return forms and surely provoked just as much stress. Icing recipes were released across Canada that minimized the use of cane and beet sugar.
Meat rationing was pushed equally as hard. The newspaper predictions from 1943 proved largely accurate in terms of the severity of meat cut-downs. 40% of Canada’s meat production was shipping overseas – but civilians were encouraged to send their food waste as well. Ads appeared in papers urging readers to “save all waste, fats & bones” because they were used in the production of explosives. Taglines like “Out of the frying pan and into the firing line” accompanied unsettling cartoons. These ads were generally produced by the Department of National War Service.
The bureaucracies and restrictions that formed in Vernon during this time demonstrate the invasive nature of large-scale war. Those hoping to lead a private life found regulatory fingers reaching into their cupboards and pantries. If our troops are fighting overseas, they said, then you have your own part to play.
To explore more of Vernon’s history, check out our other blog posts!
For the months of June and July, we are thrilled to present a series of blog posts by Collections Intern Rebeka Beganova. Rebeka (she/her) is a post-secondary student with a passion for research, literature, and history. Having completed an Associate of Arts Degree at Okanagan College, she is glad to be joining the MAV team during her last summer in Vernon before heading off to UBC Vancouver. There is no better way to say goodbye to her hometown than to explore its local history!
Vernon Jubilee Hospital staff photographed in 1915. Dr. Duncan sits on the far right of the middle row. Beside him is Dr. Arbuckle, who often filled his shoes when Dr. Duncan was out of town.
George Edward Duncan
Dr. George Edward Duncan (1870-1947) was one of Vernon’s earliest City Medical Health officers. Originally from Dublin, Ireland, he practiced medicine all throughout BC. He also served overseas in WWI, as part of the Royal Canadian Army Medical Corps. Looking down the archive’s long list of ‘Early Doctors, Vernon & Area,’ Dr. Duncan’s profile does not jump out as particularly monumental. However, if you chanced upon the collection of newspaper articles mentioning his name, you might be struck by the curious assortment of local events that Dr. Duncan had his sterilized hands in. In fact, his portfolio reads bizarrely like a series of superhero comics, where the titular character – complete with a pleasingly alliterate moniker – emerges inexplicably onto scenes of local trouble. We give you, Dr. Duncan of Vernon.
The Tragic Death of sir Edmund Lacon
This legitimate title from a 1911 newspaper could grace the front cover of Dr. Duncan’s first mystery novel. Sir Lacon met his end in the first fatal automobile accident ever reported in the Okanagan. On September 28, 1911, on Mission Road, an overturned car was discovered with seemingly no body nearby. The article detailing the resulting series of events is written like a proper detective story, littered with phrases such as “last seen here about 6:30” and “thought he heard something like a groan.”
Dr. Duncan appeared in both the action-packed inciting incident and the ensuing inquest. At the initial discovery of the toppled automobile, he was fetched from the drug store and materialized with (of all the quintessential ghost story props) a lantern to light the way. It was he who found the injured Sir Lacon by the roadside and witnessed the man’s death as he carried him to the car. During the inquest, Dr. Duncan’s hard-hitting evidence was reportedly the touchstone of truth that overrode other accounts. Fittingly enough, the conclusion to the article photocopy is obscured by a mystifying dark stain.
The CASE of the miserable milk
Dr. Duncan next crops up in a gripping local storyline centering on milk: specifically, its insufficient quality and abundance. In November of 1911, the Marvelous MD published a report analyzing the ingredients in milk from various suppliers. By revealing less-than-ideal percentages of butter fat and water, he proved instrumental in the creation of a by-law ensuring quality milk for every Vernon household. Some subpar suppliers were consequently cut off, but even after complaints were voiced about declining delivery rates, one Board of Health representative said he would rather never taste another drop “than drink the stuff they had before the by-law was passed.” Dr. Duncan’s analytical mind seemed just as valiant to citizens as his court room wits.
Vernon held a certain appreciation for its understated hero. The sentiment is evident through other subplots, such as public debates for his pay rise and motions to send him to the prodigious Canadian Public Health Congress. Even when Dr. Duncan relocated to Vancouver, the papers sent him off with enough good cheer to constitute a happy ending.
To explore more of Vernon’s history, check out our other blog posts!
For the months of June and July, we are thrilled to present a series of blog posts by Collections Intern Rebeka Beganova. Rebeka (she/her) is a post-secondary student with a passion for research, literature, and history. Having completed an Associate of Arts Degree at Okanagan College, she is glad to be joining the MAV team during her last summer in Vernon before heading off to UBC Vancouver. There is no better way to say goodbye to her hometown than to explore its local history!
Okanagan Symphony Orchestra conductor Leonard Camplin, photographed in 1969
Food for the soul
Music is food for the soul, and Vernon has always had enough to satisfy.
Since the 1920s – when the city dubbed itself the “Pioneer in Music of Interior BC Cities” – and beyond, citizens have seemed to possess a yearning for expression and an ear for the arts. Every known and unknown genre has filled the Okanagan Valley at some point. Classical music has been a staple for decades: the Vernon Symphony Orchestra was formed in 1925, an abounding collective borne from a humble room of twenty musicians. Beyond the orchestra, music with local themes has poured from parchment to instrument to audience, with pieces heralding the Ogopogo and songs proclaiming the city’s beauty. The “Vernon Song,” for example, claims that Vernon is “a warm and friendly folksy kind of town,” and that “it’s the only place on earth to be with someone there to love you.”
Lending a helping hand (or bow, or pick, or string…)
Army band at Camp Vernon, 1916. Love of music was shared by civilians and military personnel alike.
Vernon musicians are not only masters of their craft; many are also good Samaritans. Benefit concerts and fundraisers are common local events that simultaneously spread good cheer and fight for important causes. In 2012, a local trio (including a prodigious eleven-year-old) lit up Los Huesos at Christmas time to raise money and food donations for the Vernon Women’s Transition House. The musicians adapted to the theme of the restaurant by performing Spanish Christmas songs. That same year, a concert called Tunes for Teeth helped raise money for the Community Dental Access Centre. This organization is a non-profit dental clinic providing support for low-income residents, and its place in the community is so invaluable that musicians travelled all the way from Denman Island to play in its honour.
Fundraisers have also been held over the years for the Vernon Community Music School (where, in 2013, a Winter’s Aria graced the ears of eager listeners) and for the Jessica Eaman Memorial Fund, which helps make possible cross-country skiing lessons for kids. From time to time, bands have performed in support of their own members, like the band New Classics did in 2013 for Mike Nitchie. Nitchie was diagnosed with HHT, a bleeding disorder, and underwent multiple surgeries. His friends and fellow musicians put on a show of support – literally – that raised both money and awareness for the disorder.
Music has long flowed through Vernon’s streets, as background sound and as spotlight events. Whether outwardly or not, it has been a binding force within the community: an aid in times of need, a balm for collective aches. What to know more about Vernon’s musical scene? Check out these other blog posts:
For the months of June and July, we are thrilled to present a series of blog posts by Collections Intern Rebeka Beganova. Rebeka (she/her) is a post-secondary student with a passion for research, literature, and history. Having completed an Associate of Arts Degree at Okanagan College, she is glad to be joining the MAV team during her last summer in Vernon before heading off to UBC Vancouver. There is no better way to say goodbye to her hometown than to explore its local history!
Allan Brooks photographed ca. 1925
This famed ornithologist and artist has secured his rightful place in Vernon’s history. Those who know of Allan Brooks from his local reputation alone may envision him as an all-around nature lover, at one with the landscapes and wildlife of the Okanagan. However, this peaceful image overlooks the pragmatic edge to Brooks’ character. His views on nature preservation were much more complex than a simple slogan of “protect the animals.”
The Problem at Hand
Brooks’ methodology directly opposed the theory of the “balance of nature.” This theory states that without human interference, the natural interactions between predator and prey will maintain the balance between overpopulation and extinction. Brooks’ disagreement stemmed from the fact that predators are a lot less reserved than people then understood. Many are bloodthirsty, he claimed – relentless. In one lecture he pointed to the house wren, a bird that enjoys burying hatchlings under piles of sticks to starve them.
His proposed approach to wildlife preservation was to actively eliminate predators; not trust that they will die off at their own pace, but hire trappers and hunters to keep them at bay, for the sake of the survival of smaller animals. Not only was this concept shocking to animal lovers, but it also went against an age-old ideology that was so accepted, it was being taught at universities.
Spreading the word
In the 1920s and 30s, Brooks set out on a mission to project his message as far as it could reach. On March 17, 1924, he addressed the public at All Saints Parish Hall with a lecture revealing the intricacies of bird life. His talk then turned to the problem of vicious bird predators and the unsettling reality that in the untouched wilderness – where perfect harmony was supposed to exist – dwindling numbers of precious species were furrowing scientists’ brows. Brooks’ speech was so compelling that the audience mourned it did not fall on more ears.
Later that same year, he lectured at a meeting of the Vernon and District Fish and Game Protective Association. This time, the speech outwardly focused on the predator problem. Brooks is recorded as stating, with perhaps characteristic wit, that those inclined to protect nature’s killers “had about as much ground to stand on as would anyone who wanted to protect the potato bug or the onion maggot as being necessary to our well-being.” In 1933 he spoke before the Women’s Canadian Club, and finally, on October 28, 1937, Brooks abandoned all subtlety and published an article in The Vernon News clearly outlining his strict prescription for the flourishing of wildlife, titled “The Predator Must Go.” In the end, it is not clear how many minds Brooks managed to convince. What is clear is that Brooks took his role as a wildlife ambassador seriously enough to make sacrifices and ruffle feathers.
To explore more of Vernon’s history, check out our other blog posts!