Why Newfoundland and Labrador is and always will be home

There's an old expression that you can spot the Newfoundlanders and Labradorians in heaven because they're the people who want to go home.

But why? Why would anyone want to return to a place where taxes and unemployment are high and the weather is less than stellar?

The answer is easy because it's home.

A little over 50years ago, my mother and father packed up three kids and moved to Montreal to allow Dad to return to school. After practising medicine on LeMarchant Road as a family doctor for a few years, he wanted to specialize and couldn't train here.

Surprise! While there, Mom became pregnant with me, and although Dad worked at a hospital, where lots of babies were born, she wanted to come home to deliver the newest addition to the Hutton clan. The fact that her own mother and sisters were in St. John's also played a role in the decision. We call it the "family and friends"factor.

My mother was born and raised in Catalina. She also lived in Corner Brook for a brief period before moving to St. John's. She was a fiercely proud Newfoundlander. She wanted all her children to be born in her home province.

So, eight months pregnant, she packed up three of my soon-to-be siblings and came home for the summer of 1966 without Dad,who couldn't leave work.

Coincidentally, 1966 was Come Home Year, but she was adamant that then-premier Joey Smallwood's bid to increase the tax base had nothing to do with her reason for returning home for my grand entrance.

It was all about the birth certificate.

Their plan all along was to finish the training and move back. Even job offers south of the borderwith triple the pay couldn't entice them to abandon the rugged shores and roads.

From one coast to another

Fast-forward a little over 20years and Ifound myself touring the interior of British Columbia with my broadcast communications class. It was a week-long field trip designed to allow us to meet the station managers and newspaper publishers who may one day hire us.

After a few days, my instructor pulled me aside to ask why Iwasn't handing out any resums.

I told him straight up that I had no intention of staying because Iwas going home the minute the program was over.

And Idid.

It's not that Ididn't like B.C. The weather was certainly better, but it wasn't home.

Nobody knew me or my family. Nobody knew my grandparents or had even heard of half the things Imissed while Iwas away.

Kindness of strangers

I'll admit, that in recent years, the weather and the economy have made me pause momentarily from time to time to consider what it would be like to live elsewhere, but then Irecall why I'm here.

I remember a guy from Newfoundland's west coast, Hedley Smith, who overheard me at Deer Lake airport on the phone trying to get a ride to Corner Brook.

He drove me in, and when Icouldn't find the people Iwas supposed to meet, drove me around for two hours until we finally connected. He refused to take gas money and, at one point, even offered to take me home because his wife had supper all ready.

I think about Don King from the Trinity area who showed up at a friend's house with a barbecue.

Earlier that day he overheard me saying at a local store that Icouldn't find the right propane tanks and would have to do without for our weekend getaway. He, too, would take nothing in return.

"Just leave it on the step when you're done with it," he said.

I think about the fantastic sunrises I've seen over Clode Sound before playing golf in Terra Nova andequally stunning sunsets over Conception Bay, a mere two-minute drive from my house.

As a reporter Irecall being in Washington and feeling an enormous sense of pride while watching people from Gander get an award for their generosity after 9/11.

Roots run deep

Nobody ever said on their deathbed they wished they'd moved away from Newfoundland because of high taxes, power bills and lousy weather.

But I'll bet, for different reasons, more than a few have wished they moved back.

That is not to say that what is happening is not important, or having a devastating impact on some who are forced to find greener pastures. But for those who can stay and eke out a living, it's a pretty good spot.

People here are indeed friendly, like they are in many places. Some take advantage of the system, like they also do in many other places.

We don't hold the monopoly on unique. Norway and Italy, two places Ihave visited, have striking vistas. They also have thriving music and cultural industries. We don't own that either.

Pack up? I think not

But it's all with one difference, it's not home. Which is why, if you're not from here, it's easy to say, as departing Telegram reporter James McLeod did, that "it's in the economic self-interest of every man, woman and child in this province to do the same thing I'm doing: pack up and move literally anywhere else."

He's not leaving generations of family and friends. With respect, uprooting after eight years here is a little different from loading the kids in the car and watching the grandparents tearfully wave goodbye in the rearview mirror.

How many times has that scene played out?

Do we have geographic and aging demographic issues? Yes. Not exactly breaking news, though.

I've been covering the same stories, albeit with different players, for 30 years. More-seasoned reporters, who've been around longer, would say the same.

For those of us who've been here for a while, it's frustrating, but not the end of the world. Are the answers easy to find? Certainly not.

Some people can't wait to get home

We found that out in 1992 when the cod fishery closed. And here we are, 25 years later, still chugging along.

Oh, and Ialmost forgot the most important reason for staying. Ithink of all the Sunday dinners (a long-standing Hutton tradition) I've had with my family.

How my nieces and and nephews who grew up playing with my childrenhave started adding seats at the table with their own offspring. Now that my parents are gone, that seems more precious than ever.

You simply can't put a price on that.

It's going to take a lot more than some botched political decision to get me to leave. If that were the case, we'd all be long gone by now.

• Delayed flight turns into Newfoundland kitchen party at Pearson International Airport

I've got a vested interest in this place that goes beyond whatever political party is in power. Perhaps that explains the reason some people sing at airports while waiting for flights back to Newfoundland.

Why? Because they can't wait to get home.