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A proud legacy

By Michel Beaudry He was the token hippie on Whistler’s first council. At least, that’s what his three other colleagues first thought of him. But over time, they came to realize just how valuable John Hetherington was to their team.

By Michel Beaudry

He was the token hippie on Whistler’s first council. At least, that’s what his three other colleagues first thought of him. But over time, they came to realize just how valuable John Hetherington was to their team. “John’s role on the council was making sure that what was happening at Whistler was environmentally sound,” says Al Raine, the government-appointed council member who shared two terms with him. “He was our conscience. And he could be stubborn as all get out.”

Three decades later, the feisty Hetherington is still hard at it. On the cusp of his 64 th birthday — with two grown-up kids — John can be found on most clear winter days guiding clients for Whistler Heli - Skiing, the firm he co-owned until very recently when it was sold to Whistler-Blackcomb. When asked about the sale, he just laughs. “My partners and I are getting on in age,” he explains. “We needed an exit strategy. And frankly, Whistler-Blackcomb was the only viable choice when it came time to sell. They really like the idea of a heli-skiing operation attached to a ski area. And with their marketing prowess, they should do quite well with it…”

There are a lot of bigger-than-life characters in Whistler. But few can lay claim to the kind of life that Hetherington has led — or the kind of impact that he has had on this town. Politician, entrepreneur, mountain guide, parent, passionate paddler, skier and cyclist, Hetherington is the kind of guy on which the pillars of this community have been built. “I’ve always been an adventurer,” he says. “And I’ve always considered my life at Whistler as a bit of an adventure. Would I change anything now in retrospect? Not on your life!”

Hetherington arrived in Whistler in the fall of 1967. Toronto-born and raised, he was spending a winter skiing in the Alps when he first heard about this great new ski area lost in the wilds of coastal B.C. “I was working as a ski patrol in St. Moritz,” remembers Hetherington, who had just completed a degree in economics and political science. “Part way through the season I met this guy from Vancouver — Dr Norm Gelpki — and he told me all about this new place called Whistler. I had already decided to return to Canada for Expo 67, so I figured it would be no big deal to travel west in September and check the place out…”

It was a decision that would totally change his life.

“Whistler was all but unknown in those days,” he says. “It was like this big mountain in the bush.” An avid outdoorsman, Hetherington fell in love with the valley almost immediately. “When I first arrived, I climbed to the top of Whistler Mountain,” he explains. “I remember talking to Jack Bright about it. I thought this place had loads of potential. Big mountain — five lakes in the valley — it was quite a spectacular spot. Even in those days, you could see the advantage of Alta Lake. Heck, Rainbow Lodge was still in operation…”

Like everyone else, the newcomer was desperate for a place to stay (as you can see, nothing much has changed in 40 years). But he got lucky. Just before the snow began to fly — “and it was a huge winter that year” — Hetherington and three buddies moved into the original Toad Hall. Abandoned for years, the building was on the far side of rustic, and though it had been refurbished a bit the year before, living conditions were still rudimentary at best. “There was no electricity, no running water and the only heat came from an old woodstove,” he recounts. “As for the pack rats, well, they kept us company for most of the winter…”

He laughs. “We certainly weren’t the only ones to be living this way. In those days, people would find old shells — abandoned fishing lodges, former logging camps, whatever — and they would move in for the winter.”

With his Swiss mountain experience, Hetherington was a natural recruit for Whistler’s budding pro patrol. “There were five of us,” he remembers, “and Hugh Smythe was in charge. There were no radios in those days, no avalanche transceivers or anything like that. We were supposed to be doing avalanche control, but we didn’t have a clue.” He pauses. Laughs at the madness of those early years. “We’d go around and throw bombs in what we thought were likely places to trigger slides. And we’d get quite excited when we’d actually get one to go.”

Life on Whistler Mountain wasn’t quite so regulated either in those days. “I recall one memorable evening at the Roundhouse,” he says with a naughty gleam in his eye. Seems this Vancouver-based company was keen on promoting their new gluhwein mix and sponsored an evening party at the top of the mountain. “Well — you can imagine what happened,” says Hetherington. “People got a little tipsy on the hot wine. Still — we all had to ski down to mid-station to catch the gondola at the end of the evening.”

Somehow, someone got the bright idea that the patrollers should race each other down on their two rescue toboggans. “A couple of the guys immediately took off down the hill with the first one, so John Lund and I decided to follow in the other,” recounts Hetherington. “Well, the first team ran into a tree and crashed so we won the race.” Somewhere along the way, however, Hetherington (who was pulling the sled) had cut his forehead on an exposed screw on the toboggan’s handle. “By the time we reached mid-station I was bleeding like crazy. There was blood everywhere — John was soaked in it. I was OK, but it really freaked people out when they saw us arrive like that…”

Life at Whistler wasn’t always fun and games though. By the mid-1970s, it was obvious that some kind of local government needed to be set up in order to deal with such issues as growth and sewage. “It was pretty serious,” remembers Hetherington. “Everyone was supposed to take responsibility for their own waste. But some weren’t as responsible as others….” Alta Lake was quickly turning into a cesspool.

In 1975, the B.C. government passed a bill declaring Whistler a “resort community” and empowered the local people to set up their own municipal government. Despite what appeared to be long odds, Hetherington decided to throw his hat in the ring, along with more established candidates like Raine, Garry Watson and mayor-to-be Pat Carleton. “I had been active in local politics,” he says. “I was already a member of the Alta Lake Ratepayers’ Association and my experience at university held me in good stead.” To the surprise of many, he was elected. “I knew how to speak to people,” he says. “I knew the issues.”

Like his pro patrol experience, Hetherington’s brush with local politics was an eye-opener. “Being on council was a real education,” he says. “There was nowhere for us to meet at first so we used Mayor Carleton’s basement as our ‘chambers’. I still remember our first meeting after getting elected.” He pauses for a moment. Then he laughs. “We all looked at each other and said: “What do we do now?”

But they had a great team and they actually managed to get things done. “In my opinion,” says the former alderman, “Pat Carleton was the best mayor this community has ever had.”

Whistler got its new sewage system — “We went eyeball-to-eyeball with the provincial government,” says Hetherington. “And they blinked first.” — but everyone on council also knew that they’d mortgaged the future of the community to get it. “We had no choice. Because if we did nothing, Whistler was going to literally stagnate.”

So what’s it like for Hetherington 30 years later? How does he feel when he looks around and sees what Whistler has become in the intervening years? “I was on a council that established the vision, the zoning and even the community plan for Whistler,” he says. “And I’m kind of proud of the way it turned out. It’s successful. People like it. And the pedestrian village really works well.”

He smiles. “In many ways, the things we did during those early days on council — our crystal ball wasn’t bad. Garry Watson and I talk about it from time to time. We put in a lot of time, we worked really hard — but now we can look back and be pretty satisfied with what we accomplished.”

That’s not to say that there aren’t any serious issues on the horizon. “For me the biggest challenge is finding a way of providing affordable housing for our long-term residents,” he says. “Look — I’m a parent. I have two grown-up kids. And one of them — my son — would probably love to spend the rest of his life at Whistler. But how will he ever afford to buy a house here? It’s really tough for young people to even imagine a future at Whistler right now.”

Another pause. A long sigh. “We’ve got to figure this thing out soon. Otherwise, I’m afraid we’ll all be in trouble…”