Scurry Past

The juxtaposition of my sheltered life and Winnipeg's street people is a lingering memory from my childhood. I still see bloodshot eyes leering at me … still feel conspicuous and uncomfortable in my 11-year-old Sunday morning costume. 

Old hotel still stands in Winnipeg's core

Back in the 1960s, our immigrant church was located in the city’s core. Then, as now, the core was a mishmash of poverty and isolated attempts of ‘gentrification’.  After our church moved into the more prosperous suburbs, we’d still have to drive through the ‘Main Street strip’ ... past the seedy hotels and the loitering street people. From the cocoon of our family car, which was washed and polished, like me, for church, I’d stare at the Sunday morning homeless.

The McLaren Hotel was the largest of the Main Street strip hotels.  Others included The Bell Hotel and the New Occidental. Winnipeg’s Main Street strip continues to be a home to the homeless, the hopeless, addicts ... those needing mental health support.  Or maybe, some would just call them ... godless sinners. 

Just like in the 1960s, when my protagonist, 11-year-old Waltraut, scurries fearfully down the side streets to her Saturday morning language school, we continue to scurry past.

The Winnipeg Free Press reporter, Ryan Thorpe profiled Chris Hauch's study in a 2020 article entitled, Out of Sight, Out of Mind. It's a chilling read. 

Old church still stands, too!