Chief Willie Walker

"Eye on Downtown " ,
from Awa'K'Wis, January, 1995

Tuesday afternoon in Gastown, and I'm early for an interview with Willie Walker, a high-ranking hereditary Kwakiutl chief, one who has lived most of his life in the downtown eastside, choosing to work in Vancouver's notorious Balmoral Hotel bar.

Moments later, and his tall (6'2") lanky figure is making his way up West Pender street, a rolled up newspaper in one of his pockets. He takes long strides, and when he comes to a stop, I notice how his features and dress are statesman-like, and his demeanor is gentle and courteous. Willie is 65 and has been a board member on the Native Health Society and the Downtown Eastside Residence Association. In July, 1993, he and Elijah Harper co-officiated the opening of the Native Health Centre.

Walker threads his way through the streets that have been his neighborhood for thirty years. He nods to familiar faces. "I like it when people say hi," he says. "A lot of kids here. Every time they say 'Uncle Willie' I know something's wrong. They just want to talk. 'Okay, I'm here -- I'll listen to you'."

With his years here the residents have gained a trust in Willie, and kids from all sorts of nationalities seek him out and find in him a non-judge mental listener. He gives them a word of encouragement, and a reality check, warning them that the only one who can take them off the road they're traveling is themselves.

In a way he views these kids as his own. he knows both their vices and their good sides. "Got to take the good with the bad," he says. "There's always good and bad in everybody -- it doesn't matter who it is."

Few here are aware of his rank -- born September 4, 1930 to Hereditary Chief Frank Walker of Fort Rupert, and Lucy Nelson, a princess (daughter of Hereditary Chief George Nelson) from Quatsino. He prefers to keep a low profile, both at home in Fort Rupert, and in Vancouver.

"A few years ago, at a potlatch in Alert Bay, I was going to sit with the people, but the Elders called me up by my Indian name and I walk up to them. One was Jim King from Gilford and another was Uncle Tommy Hunt.""This is where you belong," they told him, "because your dad was a big chief."

He opens a cardboard case to reveal a photo of himself as a teenager, standing beside his father who is in full regalia, wearing a grizzly bear headdress that is now in the UBC Museum of Anthropology. The photo was taken in front of the residential school in Alert Bay, where he spent most of his youth, from age four to fourteen, finding the academics easy and skipping two grades.

As a boy, he would sometimes go trapping in Knight Inlet with his father and San Hunt. And whenever he was in Fort Rupert, he would often sit with spruce Martin who told him stories of life long ago.

Willie is an intriguing man. He is a chief who keeps a low profile. He works in a bar, but he quit alcohol. He is a gentleman who must (at work) use his fists on occasion. He is a loner who likes to be with people. He dispenses advice, but doesn't expect it to be taken. He is an observer of human nature, and a realist, as knowledgeable of the old ways as the intrigue of the city streets.