The airplane has a special mystique in remote First Nations communities up the James Bay coast. Daily flights into isolated communities like Attawapiskat are a major part of the goings-on in everyone’s day. Our lives to a great degree depend on and revolve around the take-offs and landings of these great steel birds.
It stands to reason that the airplane is still regarded with such awe in northern isolated communities. After all, it is the only way out of town. The plane is the lifeblood of these communities and brings in food and goods so that we can survive. In the old days before the coming of the European, when we lived off the land, we were not dependent on things arriving from the outside world. But today much of our diet, our clothes and just about everything arrives by plane.
Some supplies are brought in on the winter road, but this can only be done for a couple of months when the mushkeg is frozen solid. During the summer and part of the spring and fall, we can count on the barge for supplies and mostly larger items and building materials.
As a youngster, when I was growing up in Attawapiskat, I would run with the other boys to greet an incoming flight or wave as one was taking to the air. Every kid up the coast has wanted to be a pilot at some time in his or her young life. We were in awe of the Air Creebec pilots in their neatly pressed uniforms and pilot caps. The whining sound of an airplane stopped all of us in our tracks to look skyward in wonder.
I grew up with a great respect for airplane pilots. Many times I heard stories about a legendary Native pilot known up and down the coast and far and wide throughout the entire country. Lindy Louttit became larger than life when at an early age he got his pilot’s license and began to fly throughout his beloved Mushkego country.
Just about everyone in my dad’s generation has a story about Lindy. He flew everyone everywhere, including trappers, hunters, magazine writers, photographers, government representatives and sport hunters. Legend has it that he rarely had to count on technology for his bearings, as he knew every mile of ground around the James Bay area. He seemed to be able to land where he pleased and take off in places no one every thought it could be possible.
Lindy has aged a little since those days but he is still a big man and a strong man with a huge heart and a friendly smile. He isn’t flying these days but has put his incredible energy and winning personality into the promotion and marketing the art of his daughter, Betty Lincez, Wabimeguil. Her vibrant and insightful paintings have made her well-known all over North America.
Recently, a friend loaned me a copy of a publication that had been produced by the government which featured the story of Lindy, the legendary bush pilot. It was easy for me to identify with the magic of the airplane that captivated Lindy from the time he was a kid. The next time I see him, the kid in me is going to want some stories from his flying days and perhaps I can pass them on to you.
