Thank you so much for being here today. For those of you who may not know who I am, my name is Nicole. I stand in front of you with much pride because the man we are here to honour today, the man who many of us loved, respected or were amazed by, was my father.
Paul Millette! These 2 words convey so many things to so many people. What do you think of when you hear Paul Millette? Do you think father, grandfather, great grandfather, brother, uncle, friend? Do you think trapper, pilot, woodlands manager, teacher, healthy living advocate, fisherman, “beaverman”, “otterman”, supernatural, legend, ambassador to his trade, or as the natives would call him, “the white man that traps everywhere!”?
I have heard every one of these words used to describe my father.
I live in Southern Ontario and when I tell people about my father they look at me with total astonishment and bewilderment. They live in the modern world where such things as trappers are unheard of, something they thought belonged to days long ago. They live such a fast pace life. My father used to go to Toronto for yearly medicals and one time when I was visiting him in his hotel room, he said to me, “I look out my window and I watch people wearing suits and carrying briefcases running back and forth, where do they run to? Why do they run? Why is everyone is such a hurry?
Because you see, those two worlds are as different as night and day! So today we say goodbye to an 82 year old man who died alone, out on a lake in the bush in the freezing cold.
In my world, that would be the most horrendously sad event, one could hear of. In Paul Millette’s world, this would be a reason to smile because you see today we shouldn’t be crying, he would not want that. He would want this to be a celebration; he would want us smiling because his death is exactly what he always wanted it to be. My father has always said for as long as I can remember, “when my time comes, I want to die on my trapline.” So, I ask you, how many of us are lucky enough to get our final wish. So as sad as it is to say goodbye, we definitely have to be happy that he did not suffer, that he never had to be sick and hospitalized. We should celebrate with him that he was able to do what he loved the most and he got to do that for 74 years.
Yes, that’s right, he trapped for 74 years. My aunt told me the other night that when they were young children, my father, his brothers, Charlos, Johnny and Bruce and sisters Gert, Cecile, Terry and Mio used to walk a mile and a half to school every day, and that they use to pass a bridge with a running creek under it. My aunt told me that when my father was 8 years old he began setting traps under the bridge in the mornings before school and checking the traps at night after school. My aunt told me that their mother, Alphonsine, used to worry so much about him but he had his mind set and this is what he wanted to do and when Paul Millette had his mind set, there was no changing it. So this is when his journey began because that little boy was so successful that year that he ended up making more money trapping than his father, Telesphore did working all year. Yes, this was definitely a source of pride for my father but much more important than that, an incredible passion for the wilderness began stirring wildly inside him and remained there until the end of his days.
Once again, this is where our worlds collide! Imagine, 8 years old. How is this even possible? A little boy at such a young age, out in the woods alone, stretching and skinning his own animals, working like a little man. What little boy could do such a thing…Paul Millette could.
What little boy could have such bravery and self-discipline to accomplish such a deed and still go to school and get his chores done…my father could.
He grew to spend most of his time trapping in the bush, walking and canoeing in the summer, snowshoeing 20 to 25 miles per day, in the winter carrying a pack on his back. First, in the Kapuskasing area then settling in the Hearst area. He got his first snowmobile in the 1950’s and at the age of 41 he got his pilot licence. The use of this equipment would prove to make his job a little easier considering his area covered well over 300 square miles. I get exhausted just thinking about itJ
Trapping was not the only thing in his life. His family meant the world to him. Fatherhood was to begin in 1952; I have 3 older brothers, Jimmy, Gerry and Rheal. The marriage to my mother did not last but my dad was to try marriage again and my baby sister Julie was born in 1972. That marriage would later fail as well. My father once told me that “He was lucky in life but not love.” I guess a man can’t have everything.
A year after Julie was born my father would suffer the biggest loss in his life, that being the death of his middle son, 19 year old Gerry, who drowned while trapping. That was extremely hard for my dad, Gerry was so much like him, following in his footsteps but somehow dad got through that with Gerry never too far from his thoughts. How ironic that they were both to die on or in a lake doing what they loved the most. In the spring we will be putting some of my fathers’ ashes with Gerry, which was one of his greatest wishes. So both my sweet brother and our wonderful loving father can be together for eternity.
My father was also a woodlands manager for Domtar, retiring in 1991, a job he thoroughly enjoyed and valued working with so many contractors, sub-contractors, Hearst FMA and Ministry of Natural Resources. During this time he also worked as a guide for hunters, and later ran a hunting and fishing camp for many years. He has also spent many, many years serving on the board of directors for The Ontario Trappers Association and the Hearst Trappers Council.
They say a cat has nine lives, I’m sure that my father must have had a little feline blood in him because he certainly could match that and maybe exceed it. It was amazing that he lived as long as he did. He has crashed a couple planes, rolled a few trucks, went through the ice on his skidoo and had to walk a several miles back to his camp soak and wet, he has wrestled with quite a few wolves and on several occasions went one on one with a black bear with his axe being his only source of protection.
For many years my dad has been providing workshops in different towns and provinces, helping teach trapping techniques he learned or developed over the years and has helped influence generations of trappers. He has been an inspiration to many, many young trappers for he was always willing to teach others and share his knowledge with those interested in learning from him.
But I think my father was a natural teacher. That did not only mean with trappers. He loved to spend time teaching his children and grandchildren about wildlife, fishing and trapping.
He also was a big advocate for healthy living and eating a proper diet. He would share his knowledge with his family and friends. He believed in using natural product to relieve what ails you. He read everything that he could get his hands on. All I can say is that you really did not want to eat fast food around him; you might be in for a lecture. Who’s to argue with him, many people in their 40’s or 50’s would not be able to keep up to him in his 80’s. He was strong and fit until the very end. People are shocked that he was still trapping at 82 and doing it alone. I believe he lived enough life for three people. He did not know how to just sit and relax; you would never catch him lying around watching television. There was always something to do!
If you knew my father then you would know that he lived life to the fullest, always happy, smiling and eyes beaming with pride and confidence. He could also be very stubborn especially when it came to carrying his satellite phone and checking in with family to let them know he was o.k. “Don’t worry, don’t worry! I’ll be fine! Only to leave it at the camp and for this he got a little lecture from Julie on our final farewell to him the other evening.
He loved spending time with his family, was very close to his brothers and sisters. He always enjoyed a good party and was known to sing a certain song and honour us with a step dance.
Oh, my sweet Papa, I know I’ve inherited some of that stubbornness and independence and I try to live my life honourably. Through your infinite patience you have taught us to test our limits, to challenge ourselves. If in the end, I could say that I’m half the person you were, then I would consider myself a very lucky person. I never had the priveledge to grow up with you but I treasure every moment we shared. I have always thought of you when I walk through the woods or trails and in my mind have had many, many talks with you. Your patience, gentleness and love has always shined through, I love you and will miss you dearly. Enjoy your new journey because knowing you, there’s a big project to be done.
Nicole
