I’d like to begin with a quote. “All she ever wanted to do in life was dance.” That’s how The East Hamilton Journal described my Mom back in August 1992. From the age of 4 when she started taking classes and picked up a baton for the first time, Colleen Cork Earl had already defined her future. And what a future it was.
She practiced relentlessly, over six hours a day for years, a decision that would have serious consequences down the road. But the results were undeniable. “800 trophies, awards and medals”, The East Hamilton Journal reported. That’s ridiculous.
Listen to some of these accolades: a two-time Miss Majorette of Canada, Miss Majorette of Ontario, multiple Kiwanis scholarships, the Junior World Champion, the American Juvenile Champ, the Duchess of St. Louis, the Top Twirler of The Day in Utica, New York. Honestly, if I listed every event she excelled in, we’d probably be here all day.
She certainly never let it get to her head. You wouldn’t ever hear her describe herself as the greatest baton twirler of all time but she probably was. No matter how high she hurled it, Mom prided herself on never letting it drop.
When she won Miss Majorette of Canada for the second time, Mom met the Prime Minister John Diefenbaker. There’s a great framed photo we’ve had for years of the two of them together on that fateful day. You may have seen it on Facebook.
But she didn’t have any fondness for the man. She had a good reason, though. He kept asking what her name was. No matter how many times she told him, he always forgot. It annoyed her to no end. She never let it go.
Mom’s talents ultimately got her on Television. In 1959, she had the distinction of being one of the Tiny Talent Time originals, a small group of dancers known as The Happy Tappers who performed at the beginning and end of every episode during her numerous appearances on the show. They also danced during live commercials holding signs for the show’s sponsors.
Mom loved telling the story about a certain cow that got a little too nervous on camera and well, let’s just say you had to be careful where you tapped.
As Mom became a teenager, she grew out of Tiny Talent Time and started appearing on other shows like Mickey-A-Go-Go on CHCH and It’s Happening for CTV. Producers didn’t like her hair colour so she dyed it bright red.
It was the CTV experience that pretty much soured her on TV altogether. Mom wasn’t tall enough in the eyes of the producers even though she was pretty much the best dancer they had on their shows. And it just wasn’t the greatest working environment for young women.
But she adored Robbie Lane, the longtime frontman for The Disciples, who was a fixture on the show and they became lifelong friends. She later appeared with him on The Robbie Lane Show where she earned about a hundred bucks a week kicking it up in go-go boots.
While on TV, Mom also joined the Hamilton Theatre Guild and appeared in numerous live productions throughout the 60s and 70s. You name a famous stage show and she was in it, usually as a dancer or in a small role. We still have all the original programs.
One of her castmates was a young lady named Brenda Copps who later became our family doctor and went out of her way to take care of my Mom, especially during her cancer years. We’re grateful to her for all that she did to keep Mom going for as long as she could.
Mom would be the first to admit she wasn’t Streisand when it came to singing. But humour was her secret weapon. Her biggest role was Minnie Fay in Hello Dolly! The Spectator’s theatre critic described her performance as “a hilarious, unbeatable highlight.”
“She’s a delight to watch,” he raved. “She milked the part for every laugh it was worth without ever overdoing it.” She even got her own bio in the show’s program.
As much as she enjoyed performing, though, her heart lied elsewhere.
At some point in the late 1960s, Mom got her teaching diploma which meant she wasn’t allowed to compete anymore. When she wasn’t teaching in a bunch of American States, she started her own business: Colleen’s Dance Studio.
From September to June, she would work six days a week, Monday to Saturday. And then came the recital.
She originally called it Colleen’s Variety Show. High school auditoriums would be rented and the places would be packed. I think Mom preferred this part of her professional life because she had complete creative control and it was personally fulfilling for her to see the best of her young students grow and evolve, and succeed on their own talents.
Mom knew how to stretch a dollar, especially while making costumes for the kids. Even though they didn’t cost very much to put together, the dancers always wore something they felt comfortable performing in that also made them feel glamourous. She even made me look good. Although maybe the purple ruffles were a step too far.
Now this is the most amazing thing about my Mom’s career as a teacher. She would personally choreograph every single routine the kids would do on recital nights. Throughout the year, she would introduce a new move at the end of every class until she had a completed dance for them to rehearse.
Even though she wrote down every step in her binder, she memorized every single routine every single year. Most years, there’d be, I don’t know, maybe 30 to 50 acts in a single night. In 1988, there were 70. So half were performed on night one and the other half on night two, just like WrestleMania.
Mom was always a nervous wreck. If she was a wrestler, they’d call her The Ultimate Worrier, but she was also a problem solver. The really little kids would always forget their routine and so there was Mom, off to the side of the stage, performing their dance by memory as they looked over trying to mimic her moves to the great amusement of the crowd who knew exactly what was going on.
It was a lot of work but Mom got so much out of the experience. I have fond memories of the end of the night as one kid after another would embrace her and thank her as she clutched a whole slew of flowers they had just given her at the curtain call. She was always touched.
And then it all went away in 1992. For years, Mom had been keeping a secret. She was in a lot of pain. The first thought was arthritis. Then, maybe it was repetitive strain injury. Eventually, she was diagnosed with fibromyalgia. She went through numerous treatments: hydrotherapy, physiotherapy, water exercises, splints on her wrists. She refused to take prescription drugs because she didn’t want to deal with the side effects.
Thankfully, she did get some relief but not enough to keep her business going. So, she did the next best thing. She passed the torch to a couple of her best students: first Kathy Young Milligan and then Erin MacDonald Newton.
As a tribute to the name of the dance teams Mom put together of her top talents in the 80s, Kathy renamed the business Silhouette Dance Company and then when Erin took over, it became Expressions Creative Dance which still exists today. So Mom’s professional legacy lives on.
When she wasn’t dancing, Mom worked as an usherette at the old Hamilton Forum where in the late 60s she met a hockey fan named Ron. They married in 1973 even though he rooted for the Habs and she supported the Leafs.
They watched a lot of hockey together. It’s how they bonded. And then I was born in 1975.
Mom was, by her own words, an over-the-top mother. She had to be. I was small and often sick. It took years to figure out what was wrong with me. It wasn’t cheap to feed a kid health food but Mom always did it cheerfully and without complaint. And if I was being bullied, which happened a lot, look out. She’d even scare Brock Lesnar. Just like my Dad, she was my chief protector.
My Mom was tough. She abhorred con artists, especially telemarketers, which is why we started screening calls, and she was unafraid to stand her ground when the circumstances warranted it. Good luck trying to sell her something she didn’t want.
She survived a car accident, two robberies, numerous bullies, a New Year’s Eve mugging, a bomb threat that was probably a cruel hoax, countless falls as she gradually lost strength in her legs, a gall bladder attack, a burst appendix, her heart stopping during her cancer surgery in 2021 and a Covid infection that lasted three to four months that we didn’t even know about until she went to St. Peter’s. It was the return of her stubborn cancer that sadly spelled the end.
Even though she was miserable in that hospital bed not able to eat the food she enjoyed at home, for a short time she still managed to watch her beloved Leafs on a hospital TV and started calling us everyday for a quick chat. When she stopped calling, I called her. She had countless visitors, including me and Dad. She was never alone, especially in her final moments, which were heartbreaking. Even the nurses, who she all knew on a first-name basis, spent time with her. She was that loved.
Mom made friends easily. And they would stay loyal to each other for decades. Whether it was fellow baton twirler Sandy Baker and her husband Pat Quinn, dozens of church folks from Delta and Livingston, including my godmother Millie, her water therapy pals at St. Joe’s Villa and Westmount or the Alzheimer’s Support Group Mom joined after Grandpa got sick, Mom loved them all. And they loved her in return.
Even the friends she had lost touch with would reconnect with her at some point decades later like one of her favourite teachers Doreen Bradt who’s also a talented artist and Sandi Watts who actually helped put Mom back in touch with Doreen.
Her oldest friend was probably her first: Johnny Paulowich, her favourite dance partner, who she first met when she was 4. There he was, 70 years later, visiting her at St. Peter’s. They never lost touch. I’m glad he got to see her one last time.
There were many laughs, phone calls, lunches, dinners, emails, gifts, cards, letters, trips and a lot of welcome visits, especially in her last year when she needed so much support to get her through an impossible ordeal.
Mom treasured her friends just as much as her family. She was a great sister to Joyce, Bev, Ev and Steve, always offering support when they needed it or anything else she could do to help them out. And she adored her nieces, her nephews, and her great-nieces and great-nephews, always spoiling them like crazy. And they adored her in return.
Mom was an active member of Delta for decades. She was a Sunday School teacher, a steward, an usher and a greeter. She was a beloved member of UCW’s Unit 8 becoming the membership & corresponding secretary for the UCW executive. She audiotaped the services which were sent to housebound congregants. She helped count the offering money. She was The Bag Lady for numerous church sales, The Card Lady sending out sympathy cards and she joined Pastoral Care calling lonely elderly members who couldn’t come to church anymore.
A few years after she retired, Mom helped some of the older Delta kids put together Copycats, a series of pantomime shows. Mom once again found herself in the role of choreographer. When I was looking through her stuff recently, I found a purple binder. Inside were all the lyrics to the songs and the complete routines that were used for the 2000 show. She never threw it away. That was Mom.
I will miss her so terribly. But at the same time, I’m grateful she’s no longer suffering and depressed. It was horrible to see her that way. She deserved better. She did so much good in her life. For her family, her friends, and for all her communities.
Those last visits at St. Peter’s were tough but I don’t want to remember her in that state. I prefer the image I have of her before she got terribly ill. The smart, resourceful, warm-hearted goofball who was easy to talk to and so comfortable to be around, excluding the times I made her mad, even though we always made peace and laughed about the temporary tension. She was a great mom, a loyal friend, a loving sister and aunt, a generous spirit, a peerless talent.
Cancer may have claimed another victim but it can never erase the history of a wonderful person. She was and is an inspirational lifeforce, someone who lit a spark in the many who knew her and invited into their lives, treasuring every moment, especially now that she’s gone. Yes, there is sadness and grief but take comfort in this everyone. Her generous spirit will never die.
I can’t tell you the number of times Mom encountered a former student long after she retired. There were more than 1500 she taught and sometimes they arrived in the most unexpected ways.
We used to have a roofer for a neighbour. His wife took lessons from my Mom when she was a kid. At Delta Secondary, there was this guy named Sam Slade who got on stage in our auditorium and had all the girls screaming in ecstasy at his gyrations. My Mom taught him those moves.
And then there was the PSW who came to visit just before she was transferred to St. Peter’s. As I let her in, she said, “You know, I used to take lessons in this house.” Then she saw Mom. “Oh my God, Colleen!”
I’m convinced Mom taught everybody in this city.
For those who believe, she’s at one with the angels now, making sure they know their first position from their fifth, their step ball change from their grand jete, that they properly stretch beforehand, all while still yelling at the Maple Leafs when they lose. Those bloody Panthers.
Thanks to Mom being a pack rat, so much of her life has been preserved in words, pictures and video. So many memories for all of us to treasure. And what glorious memories they are.
(Special thanks to Rev. Jess Swance, Evelyn Cork, Brenda Campbell Ellison, Kathy Young Milligan and Janis Webster.)
Dennis Earl
Hamilton, Ontario, Canada
Saturday, May 27, 2023
5:42 p.m.
THE WRITINGS OF DENNIS EARL 