When I walk into the little memorial forest near the Squamish airport, I see more than trees. I see years of work alongside my dad, a community coming together, and a promise I’ve tried to keep since he passed away.
My father, Doug Horth, held Woodlot 027 from around 1985 until he sold it in early 2018. It covered much of the Cheekye Fan, including areas around the airport and landfill, and north along the highway toward Brohm Lake. For many years, we logged, planted and cared for that forest. Looking after what grew back was part of the job—and part of our family’s life.
I remember major windstorms during two consecutive winters, around February 1989 and 1990. Large areas around the landfill and airport blew down. The salvage work was enormous. As I remember it, Dad ended up harvesting roughly eight years’ worth of his allowable cut at once because of the storm damage.
During that work, Dad found an old memorial post honouring John Askey “Jack” Quick, who died serving in the Second World War. I was there with him that day.
That discovery stayed with me. Those woods held history, and a connection to people who had planted and cared for trees long before us. In 2012, a small portion of Dad’s woodlot was acquired for what became the BC Forest Service Centenary Grove, connected with the Quick Memorial Forest. We carried out the logging, but when Dad learned the area would become a park, he wanted to leave it looking like one.
That meant extra work. We dug out stumps, hauled them to another area and burned them. Dad put time and effort into preparing a place the community could enjoy.
Other people helped bring it together. Darcy Reimer and the Rivers Church youth group established a trail connecting the memorial areas. Mal McCallum helped with materials for the trail, and Coast Aggregates supported the project. Dad and I placed the forestry commemorative stone, and another stone was installed for the Quick memorial.
I remember the ceremony: Squamish Nation representatives, Josh Joseph drumming and singing, speeches, community members and old forestry vehicles on display. It was a celebration of forestry, remembrance and the people who had helped shape Squamish.
One moment means especially much to me. My daughter, Anita, planted a large cedar alongside longtime resident Norm Barr. Norm had helped plant the original Quick Memorial Forest when he was a boy. Watching him plant with my daughter felt like one generation handing responsibility to the next.
Elementary school children helped plant the new grove, with white pine, western red cedar and Douglas fir among the trees.
Dad passed away in 2019. Afterwards, I noticed that parts of the planting were struggling. Alder and maple were overtopping the young conifers, and I worried that the forest we had helped establish would be lost beneath competing growth.
I approached forestry staff and asked whether we could place a monument there for Dad. In return, I offered to take on the silviculture work—helping the young forest become established.
Since 2020, I’ve returned each year, usually in November, to keep that promise. I cut back competing alder and maple and carried material away from the front of the site. As the trees grew, I also thinned crowded patches. The children had planted enthusiastically, and some areas needed more room for individual trees to develop.
I favoured the established white pines, kept cedar and Douglas fir where they had space to thrive, and retained hemlock where it filled a useful opening. Each visit involved looking at what was growing and deciding what would give the forest its best chance.
Last year, I felt we had reached an important point. The pine, fir and cedar were well established and, in my assessment, free to grow. The heavier work of releasing them from competing brush was largely behind us.
Now it is a beautiful, thriving little forest.
This November, I’m returning to clean up around the memorial stones and tend to material left from last year’s work. I also want to clean the Quick memorial and forestry stones so their inscriptions are easier to read. Dad’s monument is still looking good.
However, I have one concern I want to share with the community. Over the next few years, many of these trees will reach the size people look for in a Christmas tree. Because the site is close to town, I worry someone will see a convenient tree without understanding the history, or the years of work behind it.
Our family dealt with Christmas tree theft throughout Dad’s time on the woodlot. He tried painting trees blue and pruning branches from one side to make them less attractive. It was frustrating to plant and tend a forest, only to have trees disappear.
Please don’t take Christmas trees from this memorial forest or from replanted forestry areas. Before heading out to cut a tree, contact FrontCounter BC or the local forestry office about the appropriate permit and where cutting is permitted.
The Cheekye Fan is not a Christmas tree farm.
An empty space and a fresh stump here would mean more than one missing tree. It would mean losing something planted by a child, cared for over many years, and intended to remain part of a living memorial.
This little forest holds several generations of history: people who planted before us, my father’s years on the woodlot, my daughter helping establish the grove, and the children whose trees are now growing tall.
I’m proud to have worked beside my dad, and I’m proud to keep caring for this place.
When I return each year, I can see what that work has become. The trees are standing strong, the forest is thriving, and there is something here worth protecting for the next generation.
