Profile: John Everitt

So how did a working class boy from (real) London's northeast end come to be a geographer at a "rural and remote" Canadian university -- undoubtedly working at the best job in the world? While in Belize in 1969, I read a book by Norman Mailer called "Why are we in Vietnam?" The book was not about Vietnam itself, but about how Americans' "americanness" got them into the quicksand of South East Asia. So paraphrasing Mr. Mailer, "Why is John Everitt a Geographer at BU?"

I would say that it is more by luck than by judgement, in addition to a number of inherited traits. Certainly, my father (a stalwart worker who refused to be drawn into the ranks of management) had always had an inquiring geographic mind, although never the opportunity (i.e. social class, money, family obligations, and so on) to really indulge it until later in life, after retiring. Thanks, Dad. Undoubtedly, my brother also had a geographic mindset and thanks to our parents' frugality and encouragement, did have the chance to see a bit more of the world -- before being murdered by the Mozambique army some 20 years ago. Sorry, Ted.

When I review some of the branches of our family tree, my father and Ted were not alone in their migrational achievements. My forebears had followed an urban geographer's dream path, migrating as peasant agriculturalists and artisans from the rural London surrounds into the inner nineteenth century city to work in burgeoning but often-dangerous industrial pursuits (although one great-grandfather made tin whistles as a young teen just out of school) that characterised the Victorian capital. They then moved out to the suburbs of Essex with those industries as they built new factories in (literally) greener pastures. My relatives are now Canadian, Australian, Hong Kongers and even Welsh, as well as being scattered to the four corners in England. If we had been serious stamp collectors, or owners rather than workers, I might have been rich and retired much sooner. Instead, I completed 35 years at Brandon University -- working in the best job in the world -- and retired not so rich but with a view of Jost van Dyke in the British Virgin Islands from our "infinity pool". Things could clearly be worse.

A more personal explanation for my present situation is that geography was always the only thing I could do well. I wrote my primary school stories about a mythical island, toured London collecting bus numbers, and did well enough in my high school exams, and despite the trials and tribulations of History and Economics, squeezed into Leicester University by the skin of my teeth (a first step in a pattern that has characterised my career). Leicester was good to me. Much like BU I suppose; it was small, friendly, and gave you a lot of positive contact with faculty. I did a Geography-Social Science degree which was new to the UK circuit, but the first year of which turned out to be much like first year in a North American university. Prescience? As I saw light at the end of my Leicester tunnel, the realisation that I didn't have a clue as to a "future" led me to following the lead of some more motivated friends and applying to do a Master's degree programme at a Canadian university -- thereby adding a lot more of a tunnel! I was accepted at McMaster and Alberta, but made the fortuitous choice of going to Simon Fraser University - BC (SFU by the way, not S.F.U.) had more "English weather" and was on the coast -- soon to become the revolutionary-student capital of the world, although with little thanks to me. Ironically, my friends, who had given me the application forms, but clearly were governed by more sedentary genes, never came across the pond.

SFU proved to be a major character-building exercise for me. The courses were different, graduate school was different, I was on my own with no family backup (but great new friends), and SFU was a ‘happening’ place. Determined to revolutionize the educational system, students and faculty constantly fought the establishment. We all thought a new world order was coming. Of course it didn't, but it did help me to see some alternatives – even though I spent most of my time on the fringes of the revolutionary factions, partly as I only had a student visa, partly because my nature avoids a central role in things. SFU also got me to Belize to do my thesis fieldwork on cultural geography, and that was another paradigmatic experience for me.

While in Belize I realised that the tunnel was ending again, so I applied to do a Ph.D. I was accepted at Kent State and UCLA and set off for the latter in my ill-fated Ford Frontenac (a Ford Falcon with a maple leaf on each hub cap). Of course, if I'd made the other decision I may, as a fringe person, have been murdered by the U.S. National Guard. So it goes. Once again luck rather than judgement saw me through.

UCLA (NOT U.C.L.A.) was a different experience. From radical SFU to right-of-Attila-the-Hun UCLA. From innovative geography, to somewhat more traditional fare. From revolution against the administration, to rebellion against the Vietnam War, the Cambodia invasion, and the LAPD. But I was lucky again with friends, and fortunate with new faculty hirings and external committee members, I made it through and was reborn as a behavioural urban geographer. Of course, I was nearly out of tunnel again and this time there was no escape. A friend got me a one-year job (luck once more) at Illinois State University in "dry" Normal. I was by then married, with two dogs and two cats in the yard, and the inevitable Volkswagen bus -- somebody made a song or two out of that I think? We settled in "wet" Bloomington -- the twin city to the south. Although ISU was good to me, US Immigration was not. I had interview opportunities at Windsor and Brandon, but never made it to Windsor after being seduced by Tyman, Welsted and Stadel, the three musketeers of the geography department at BU. I got there just after the war of 1812 (or thereabouts). If nothing worked out (I had a two year term contract originally) we were at least halfway back to the coast.

My first year was somewhat traumatic, for several reasons (sorry Carol), but soon I was in for the long haul. Although I never thought it would be this long. I never thought anything would be this long. We were going to die before we got old (i.e. 30) and not freeze slowly to death in Brandon's winters! So for several light years (yes, I know!) I worked in the three trenches of academe: teaching, research, and community service. I always avoided taking the administrative way out, a result of my father's entreaties, and my SFU and UCLA experiences, I suspect. Perhaps genetics as well? Teaching was always fun, although sometimes "funner" (as my students used to say) than others. I taught about fifteen different courses, to about ten thousand different students; some of whom retired before me.

My research has been as varied as my teaching (and still is). I am a "lily-pad" geographer. I like to do different things. I have friends who have dug themselves foxholes in "intra-urban migration", and others who have specialised in gravel pits, but my attention tends to wander (perhaps that genetic thing again) to different topics for short periods of time. I have a hundred plus publications on perhaps a hundred plus different topics. These topics have ranged from mental mapping to British Pub behaviour, from mobile homes to the grain trade, from Manitoba to Belize to the BVI, and from railway lines to pork pie production. Not a lot of coherence in it perhaps, but a lot of fun. Like I said before, it is the best job in the world. I did dwell longer on some topics, publishing more on (some would say "flogging to death") Belize, rural Manitoba, Brandon, prairie grain elevators, and the elderly/aging. But recently, I'm moving on again and am developing a specialisation in Tourism. This has particularly included Puerto Vallarta in February! Seriously though, we had an agreement with the University of Guadalajara and its branch campus in PV. It was a tough job but somebody had to do it! I'm just lucky, and as I say, mine was the best job in the world. And now I get to study the BVI. As I said before, clearly things could be worse.

My "service" was always an integral part of my life. What goes around comes around I suppose. I helped organise the Prairie Division of the Canadian Association of Geographers, and later became President of the national association. But more recently community service assumed a greater time importance. Remarkably, considering my history, it became quite focussed. I decided to try to make Brandon a slightly better place in which to live. Even if I could only do a little myself, perhaps in the long run big things will come of it. At least that was the theory. In 1996 I was asked to be a member of the Board of Brandon Riverbank Inc., and then was elected President (after most of the old board suddenly resigned -- being on the fringe doesn't always work). I acted on occasion as an adviser to Rosser Ward Association and recently this led (via a somewhat murky path) to a position as Vice-Chair of Brandon's Neighbourhood Renewal Corporation (in 2000), and resident urban geographer. At about the same time I was also appointed to Brandon's Municipal Heritage Advisory Committee (probably the City Councillors had me mixed up with somebody else). Later, having the right friends (I suppose) got me appointed to the Manitoba Heritage Council. But combined, these committees allow me to help guide the redevelopment of the older central area of Brandon, and one of its core features, the riverbank of the Assiniboine.

Beyond all of this, what do I do for fun now I'm firmly anchored in Tortola, British Virgin Islands. Well fortunately the new information age has brought us the World Wide Web and numerous TV channels that enable me to once again follow real football (a.k.a. soccer). Once again I'm lucky, as my main team, Arsenal Football Club, have won the "League and Cup Double" three times, so I can crow over the other expats. Quality scale model buses are now produced and I can buy replicas of the ones I used to "spot". Also I am slowly increasing my Dinky Toy collection although most of my model ("HO") train layout was ditched when I left Brandon. I enjoyed taking my dog (Dylan, named after Bob, a lifesaver from my high school days on) to BU every day. He enjoyed it too, and made it a more humane place. People still in purgatory (I mean working at BU) miss Dylan more than they miss me. He is now improving the BVI. I have enjoyed watching my daughter Alison grow up. Now I enjoy her being grown up. I enjoy the fact that my wife Elaine is having a good life, despite still working for a living. And I enjoy visiting my family back in Britain (and elsewhere), because as I endeavoured to explain, my family got me to where I am, and I'm extremely grateful for all of that. It's more than I ever dreamed of, and long may it continue.

Education:	B.A. (Leicester), M.A. (SFU), Ph.D (UCLA)
Position:	Professor Emeritus
Research:	Cultural landscape change in southwest Manitoba. Elderly migration in southwest Manitoba. Historical aspects of the grain distribution system in the prairies. Social geography of prairie rural communities. Tourism (in Manitoba, Belize and the BVI).