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Kirby Brown: A Down East heart in the Coast Mountains

"I grew up deeply embedded in tourism," says Kirby Brown, Whistler-Blackcomb’s Human Resources boss. Indeed. When you live in Lunenburg, Nova Scotia and your dad manages the historic Bluenose II schooner, your life is tourism.

"I grew up deeply embedded in tourism," says Kirby Brown, Whistler-Blackcomb’s Human Resources boss. Indeed. When you live in Lunenburg, Nova Scotia and your dad manages the historic Bluenose II schooner, your life is tourism. "I virtually grew up in that boat," he says. "My father’s job had a profound impact on the way I viewed the world…"

Kirby wasn’t born in Lunenburg. But he might as well have been. "My dad was sick of city life," explains Brown. "He wanted to raise his family in a "real" community. So when I was four he uprooted the family from Quebec and moved east." It was a strange decision, given how tough times were in the Maritimes in the early 1970s. The cod fishery had just collapsed and unemployment was rampant. But the modest fishing community of Lunenburg was everything that Brown senior had dreamed off. You know – small town, ocean life and real people. Adds Kirby: "He found the ultimate job for a born again East Coaster – working for Nova Scotia tourism. And he put his heart and soul into it."

As director of operations for the Bluenose, Kirby’s dad got to sail up and down the eastern seaboard promoting the province and the schooner’s town of origin. And often he’d take his son along for the ride. "He was so passionate about where he lived, what Nova Scotia was all about. Remember – those were desperate times for Maritimers but my dad was tireless in his promotion of the place. And through him, I learned what a special town my adopted home really was."

He smiles. "At the core of it, it’s pretty simple. Lunenburgers have always known what they are about. Through good times, through hard times, they remain pretty much the same. They are so grounded in the history and culture of their community that they can roll with whatever fate has in store for them. And the town’s public celebrations reflect that fact. There’s nothing fake or inauthentic about a Lunenburg party. It’s all about celebrating who you are – and who your neighbours are too."

He stops speaking for a moment. And then he steps right into the main current of our discussion. "Whistler, on the other hand, seems to me to be a conglomeration of many communities rather than a full and integrated community. All of these different groups have found their private little piece of gold – and it strikes me that they all want to keep it to themselves..."

He smiles. Almost apologetically. But like his father, Kirby has a strong current of passion running through his soul. A guy who gets involved in things, the younger Brown has contributed to Whistler’s well-being on a number of different fronts – most recently as a board member for the Whistler Housing Association, a volunteer job he admits has not always been easy. "People come here and expect that everything will just fall into their laps. Don’t get me wrong – a lot of people work really hard in this community. They’ve made compromises and sacrifices to live in ‘paradise’. But when they see others getting big payoffs, they want in on it too!"

He sighs. "Unfortunately, that doesn’t create a tight community. It takes a lot of hard work to sustain paradise. A lot of selfless work based on mutual trust and respect. And right now, I fear we have that in very short supply here…"

On this topic, Kirby isn’t afraid to voice his concerns. He’s worried about the future. "If we could cast ourselves 50 years on and look back at this time, I wonder how we would judge our actions. I bet we’d think we were being both short-sighted and selfish."

A harsh judgement maybe. But he thinks it’s not too late to change. "When I look at the issues of the WHA, I realize we haven’t done a great job of giving people an opportunity to be heard. People are saying: ‘Listen to me!’ And we need to listen. And that goes for a lot of other organizations in this town. Before big decisions are made, we need to knock on every door and make sure we understand people’s opinions. We need to get beyond our ‘defensiveness’ and open our minds to new ideas and new ways of doing things."

Maybe it’s the time he spent on the Bluenose with his dad. Maybe it’s his stint working in the local funeral parlour to pay for college ("what an education that was," he says). Whatever. Kirby seems to be able to view issues from many different perspectives. "If you asked people what made Lunenburg such a great tourist destination, most visitors would say that they felt really welcome there. That people opened their hearts and their homes to them. We have to do the same thing at Whistler. There’s an awful lot of pride here. But it’s buried under a thick layer of cynicism and/or disillusionment. We have to strip that layer away and build a real community here. Because if that pride of place was more on display, visitors would feel way more welcome here."

It goes even further than that however. "We need to find ways to play together. Not just meet and nod at Nesters. But really get together and play. I mean – what’s the point of living in one of the world’s great playgrounds if we can’t come together as a community and celebrate what we have? Let’s share our stories. Let’s do all it takes to give everyone here a voice. After all, it’s not like we don’t all have something to say…"

For Brown, success is all about trusting your instincts. And his instincts tell him that Whistler is now at an important crossroads in its development. "I’m here because I truly believe in this place," he explains. "Nobody has to tell me how great this community is. When I first came here, I wanted to reach my arms around these mountains and hug them for all I was worth. And I still feel that way. In my position – both on the WHA board and at Whistler-Blackcomb – I get to hear all the negative stuff. And sometimes it’s tough to bear. But never – never! – has it made a dent in my belief in this place.

"It’s kind of a cliché," says Brown, "but Luneburgers work hard and play hard. To be perceived to be lazy – that’s unforgivable in Lunenburg." He pauses. Takes a deep breath. "I’m just one voice," he says, "but I’m not afraid to tell this to Whistlerites. To the people in positions of power: sit down, stop pontificating and listen! We don’t do enough of that around here. And to every citizen of this place: dust off your pride, knock the chip off your shoulder and find out how you can help Whistler. Get involved. Get your hands dirty. Do something!"

He smiles. And it truly is the smile of a Down East boy. "I don’t mean to sound tough or anything. I just think we need to remind ourselves more often what a great place we live in." Another pause. Another deep breath. "After all, I don’t want to look back 50 years from now and realize that I was part of the generation that let paradise slip through its fingers…"