David Yates and Conrad Kuiper shine light on Huron County cenotaphs in new book

BY SHAWN LOUGHLIN

One of Huron County’s foremost historians has sent his most recent book to the printer with hopes that, by the time you’re reading this newspaper, you should be able to buy it.

 

“Never Shall Their Glory Fade”: The Cenotaphs of Huron County is the writer’s next project, which he worked on with noted local photographer and teacher Conrad Kuiper. As its title suggests, the book details the cenotaphs of Huron County with stories of their creation and erection, along with some fun facts and interesting anecdotes, complemented by Kuiper’s photography.
Yates and Kuiper had originally approached Huron County Council for the project on a non-profit basis, hoping to cover costs and then return any profits to the county. However, with the Huron Heritage Fund discontinued, council turned down the request and the pair went back to the drawing board with the project sitting dormant for a time.

 

Luckily, the team had a believer in the project in Goderich Mayor Trevor Bazinet, who suggested they reach out to Bruce Power for funding. They did, they were successful and the rest is history. Now, the book has been printed and will be for sale locally with proceeds going to benefit a veteran-centric charity that has yet to be determined by Yates and Kuiper.

 

As for the creation of the book itself, Yates said its genesis can be chalked up to the intersection of a number of his lifelong interests: history and war monuments. He said he had always been fascinated by them and felt there should be a complete, comprehensive history of the area’s monuments and thought he could be the man to do it. And while the Huron County Historical Society had dedicated the 2005 installment of its Historical Notes to the region’s cenotaphs, he felt this volume could be a welcome addition to the discourse with a lot more detail and more modern photography.

 

The research aspect of the project, he said in an interview with The Citizen, was complicated in some ways, heavily reliant on the Huron County Museum’s digitized newspaper archive. In some cases, he said, information was relatively easy to find, with local councils or citizens’ groups stepping up to fund a monument to those who fought and died in World Wars I and II. However, with differing terminology and gaps in newspaper coverage, depending on the community in question, had to extend his reach to the meeting minutes of organizations that would have worked on the projects.

 

But, as he worked, he found out more about each cenotaph’s design and the stories behind the monuments in each community. He learned more about the artists and creators of each cenotaph and why they told the stories that they did.

 

In Brussels, for example, Yates was unable to find issues of The Brussels Post that would coincide with the creation of the cenotaph, so research for that village’s monument was especially difficult.

 

As his research continued, he found some pretty interesting stories. In Goderich, for example, the cenotaph featured the name of a man who was still alive. The man eventually pleaded his case as a living human being in a letter to the local newspaper, questioning his inclusion on the monument. Furthermore, Yates lauded the design of that monument, a soldier tipping his hat, looking down east street and seeming to almost bid the soldiers farewell as they would have boarded the train at the end of the street at the East Street Station. 

 

In Wingham, the design was that of a soldier who might have walked off the front lines, Yates said, and was criticized by some at the time who wanted a more stately-looking soldier, thinking the one portrayed looked almost “homeless”. And yet, Yates said, the artist defended his design as the type of soldier he had seen when serving in The Great War. He was only one of two artists making cenotaphs who had served and incorporated his experiences this way into his art and creations.

 

During his research, Yates even found that the search terms had changed, with the word “cenotaph”, meaning “empty tomb” in ancient Greek, having been brought in later. He finds the reference to be more apt, as residents use the cenotaph as a way to mourn those who were lost and buried overseas, gathering in their collective grief.

 

He said he was also fascinated by each community’s differing approach to a cenotaph and who came together to make it a reality. There are monuments, of course, but then there is something like Memorial Hall in Blyth - a glorious, historic building that serves as the community’s cenotaph.

 

Yates says the book, when it’s available, can be purchased at Fincher’s in Goderich, The Village Bookshop in Bayfield and at The Citizen office in Blyth.