The fascinating, scandalous and true story of Viola MacMillan and the Windfall mining scandal
Viola MacMillan had it all: success, money, and respect. Influence, even. But in 1964, after three decades in the mining industry, one of the most fascinating women in Canadian business history was the central character in one of the country’s most famous stock scandals.
MacMillan, who started out as a prospector in the ’30s, had developed lucrative mines and put together big deals. But she still wanted “a major discovery.” Early in July 1964, shares in Windfall Oil and Mines, a company she and her husband controlled, traded for around 56 cents. Then one day, the stock took off. In the absence of any information from the company about what it had found near Timmins on its claims, rumors and greed pushed the share price to a high of $5.70. MacMillan stayed quiet. Finally, after three weeks, Windfall admitted it had nothing.
So many small investors lost money when the stock crashed that the Ontario government appointed a royal commission to examine what had happened, which led to changes at the Ontario Securities Commission and the Toronto Stock Exchange. Although MacMillan spent a few weeks in prison, she later received a pardon and the Order of Canada.
Now available for pre-order on Amazon or come to the launch party in February (details soon).
Sorry, my favourite-music-of-the-year post is shorter than usual because my book* is due in a month (and I’ve left the hardest parts to the end). But I did create a playlist, which you can listen to on Apple Music or Spotify, and that’s more useful because as the old saying goes, writing about music is like dancing about architecture.
The playlist includes songs from boygenius, The Clientele, Indigo De Souza, Feist, Fenne Lily, Jason Isbell, Sufjan Stevens and many more. One selection comes from our this-shouldn’t-work-but-it-does department: on Cat Power Sings Dylan: The 1966 Royal Albert Hall Concert, Chan Marshall recreates the famous Dylan concert, which was actually recorded in Manchester (though she did hers at the Royal Albert Hall).
I’ve also included songs from the two albums The National put out, both of which were… fine. But not as good as I’d hoped. Speaking of dad rock, I really liked Wilco’s Cousin. Apparently, no one else did, though, as I’ve heard nobody talk about it—unlike those National albums—and saw it on no best-of lists.
Perhaps my favourite album of the year was a reissue. The remix of the righteously named Tim made the brilliant 1985 album by the Replacements sound brand new. I spent a lot of time enjoying it.
* My next book, Windfall, is about Viola MacMillan and the biggest mining scandal of the 1960s. It will be out in February 2025
Apparently, I need a deadline. On the other hand, waiting until the last minute gives me more listening time. Although I don’t pretend this is the best music of 2022, it is my favourite music of the year (as of right now). For whatever that’s worth. But if you find something here that you haven’t heard before, and you like it, then I haven’t completely wasted your time.
This year, once again, my roundup is dominated by women. It’s also heavier in twang than usual. Some of the country sound came from unexpected places. There’s lots of it on DragonNew Warm Mountain I Believe in You, the new one from Big Thief, the prolific and excellent band that always serves up pleasant surprises. There’s some in Angel Olsen’s Big Time, but there’s also a Dusty Springfield feel to some of the songs. Recording under the name Waxahatchee, Katie Crutchfield has released a series of brilliant indie albums over the last decade. But this year she teamed up with Jess Williamson and, recording under the name Plains, put out a fabulous country album called I Walked with You a Ways. Less surprising is the new one from Wilco, a band that started out as alt-country leaders, then went off in new directions. But rather than a return to their mid-1990s sound, Cruel Country offers a folkier kind of country. And in the no surprise category, the Sadies put out another alt-country gem, Colder Streams, while cosmic cowboy Orville Peck’s Bronco is, I gather, a polarizing album, I really liked it.
The year wasn’t all country, though. Beth Orton served up atmospheric excellence on Weather Alive. Elvis Costello released yet another fine album, called The Boy Named If. Hurray for the Riff Raff’s Life on Earth deserved far more attention that it received. Mitski added to her first-class catalogue with Laurel Hell. And Soccer Mommy’s Sometimes, Forever features “Shotgun,” one of the year’s standout songs.
And from our pop department: While the first two Alvvays albums offered instantly likeable poppy goodness, Blue Rev is much denser power pop that took me a few listens to really appreciate. But Wet Leg’s poppy post-punk debut Wet Leg was no work at all. It is nothing but fun.
I’ve created playlists on Spotify and Apple Music with a couple of tracks from each of these albums, as well as songs from the Beths, Andrew Bird, Craig Finn, Cassandra Jenkins, Lizzie McAlpine, Tess Parks, Kevin Morby, the Mountain Goats, Indigo Sparks and Julian Taylor. I was too lazy to sequence the playlists so just hit shuffle.
Finally, if you haven’t been listening to the Music Buddy podcast, you are really missing out. In the latest episode, which is devoted to songs of the season, I argue that “Tournament of Hearts” by Weakerthans is not just the best song about curling, but the best song about winter in Canada.
I will be doing a reading in support of Klondikers at the Whitehorse Public Library on May 5 and another event–with my friend Rick Taylor, author of Rivers Run through Us: A Natural and Human History of Great Rivers of North America–in Dawson City on May 11. The latter will be at the KIAC Ballroom and is a benefit for the Dawson City Museum and Archives.
Some years, I have a hard time picking a favourite album. Not this year. Cassandra Jenkins’s An Overview on Phenomenal Nature came out in February and has been in heavy rotation ever since. She creates such a mood with these intimate and atmospheric songs and my love for this album hasn’t waned with all the listenings. Nothing came close to knocking it out of the top spot for me.
Some other new discoveries this year include The Last Exit by Still Corners, which you may like if you’re into a little dream pop; Collapsed in Sunbeams by Arlo Parks, which might appeal to Sade fans; Somewhere by Sun June; and New Long Leg by Dry Cleaning, if you want something a little louder.
Meanwhile, Lucy Dacus returns to my year-end list. Her “Night Shift” from her 2018 album Historian remains one my favourite songs of the last five years. Home Video doesn’t include anything quite that good, but it’s still an excellent album. Torontonian Tamara Lindeman, who records and performs as The Weather Station, put out Ignorance, her best yet. And Julien Baker added another fine effort, Little Oblivions, to her impressive portfolio.
The great Steve Earle recorded a tribute to his son, the also great Justin Townes Earle, who died of a drug overdose in 2020. J.T. includes one original song and ten covers. Dad remains faithful to his son’s originals, but not too faithful.
For a long time, I couldn’t forgive The Hold Steady for not putting out albums as good as Separation Sunday and Boys and Girls in America. While Open Door Policy isn’t at the level of those two, it’s still damn good and worth checking out if you’ve haven’t heard The Hold Steady in a while. Another band that suffers from comparisons to its previous work is The War on Drugs, which seems determined to erase any remaining edge from its music. I debated whether I wanted I Don’t Live Here Anymore on this list, but in the end, I made my list a top eleven.
My playlist features a few other gems from this year: a song from a new EP from The Real Shade; a bit of a return to form from old friend Billy Bragg; and songs by Indigo de Souza, Snail Mail, Steady Holiday and Nick Cave and Warren Ellis.
For a little fun, I’ve also included four covers: Michael Stipe paying tribute to The Velvet Underground, Jason Isbell doing a John Prine deep cut and Car Seat Headrest running up a hill with Kate Bush.
December is the time for year-end book lists and some of them included Klondikers:
• The Globe 100, the Globe and Mail’s list of “The books we loved in 2021”: “Falconer tells the riveting tale of a bunch of guys who travelled from the Yukon to Ottawa because they just wanted to play hockey. The frozen continent they crossed in 1905 was so treacherous that for days, the newspapers chronicling their passage lost track of them.” (Here’s the Globe‘s review of Klondikers.)
• CBC Radio’s Day 6’s last-minute gift list: “For the first time in more than a decade as Day 6 books columnist, [Becky] Toyne is recommending a book about hockey. But she says that Tim Falconer’s latest is about far more than that.
• Outside magazine’s 2021 Sweat Science Holiday Book List: “Falconer’s book is the story of the unlikely challenge, but more generally it’s an entertaining dive into what sports—and society—looked like a century ago.”
In addition, here are some interviews I did about the book:
A new book website called Shepherd asked me to pick the top five hockey books.
That was a hard assignment. I eventually narrowed it down to six and, in the end, I reluctantly dropped George Plimpton’s Open Net, a book I love.
Anyway, here’s my list of the five best hockey books. It may be a little idiosyncratic, but maybe you will discover something to add to your reading list.
The virtual launch of Klondikers: Dawson City’s Stanley Cup Challenge and How a Nation Fell in Love with Hockey featured Tim Falconer and Ian Brown in conversation. You can watch it here:
To be honest, launching a book on Zoom wouldn’t be my first choice. I’d love to throw a big bash in a bar. But on the positive side, people from all over will be able to join me in celebrating Klondikers.
For more information, here’s a Facebook event page.
