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By Sandra Thomas

Staff writer

Keith Beedie was 16 years old when he landed a job in the toy department at the old Woodward’s department store. Little did he know it would only last three days.

It was the busy Christmas season in 1941 and the Grade 11 student from Magee Secondary needed extra money for the holidays. His responsibilities included assembling wagons and tricycles for 35 cents an hour, alongside a pretty girl from a different high school.

"I really liked her but she wouldn’t give me the time of day," he said.

Beedie was in a playful mood just before the Saturday morning opening, his third day on the job, and wanted to get the girl’s attention. He took a soft fuzzy ball and tossed it at her, but Beedie was no Joe DiMaggio. The shot went wild and hit a bare light bulb in the Toyland department. The bulb short-circuited, causing nearby Christmas decorations to ignite and triggering the sprinkler system. "I took one look at the catastrophe and ran down the stairs from the fifth floor and out of the building, never to return," he said. "I believe they still owe me three days’ pay."

Years later, Beedie, now the successful owner of a large construction company, purchased a neighbouring building that Woodward’s used to store toys prior to the Christmas rush.

"The [Woodward’s] manager we were dealing with had the exact same name as my supervisor at the time of the incident, a young guy," he said. "I never said anything to him, but I wondered..."

Beedie’s story is just one of many 19-year-old UBC student Lindsay Thompson has collected as part of a sociology project. Thompson said she’s been overwhelmed with responses after putting out a call for Woodward’s memories and memorabilia on a local cable TV program hosted by Jim Green, her sociology professor and a well-known Downtown Eastside activist.

The popular department store closed its doors in 1993, remaining empty until its recent purchase by the province, which plans to convert it for a mix of commercial outlets and affordable housing.

Thompson, whose aunt used to model for the store’s catalogues and fliers as part of the "Woodward’s fashion club," said she’s received e-mails, letters, postcards and packages from throughout the Lower Mainland.

One woman sent an entire collection of spice bottles bearing the Woodward’s name, and included an old English teddy bear purchased at the store and a toy truck bearing the inscription: "Woodward’s—we sell everything."

Other submitted items include Woodward’s shoe polish and several small handles used for carrying brown paper packages in the days before plastic bags.

Thompson said the project is so monumental, her thesis keeps changing and her professor has already extended her April deadline.

"It started out about a collective memory, but it might change to show the way Woodward’s united people," she said. "Then there’s the heritage and nostalgia aspects. I’m just not sure yet."