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One of the perils of living in our quaint, historic community is that by virtue of its name we are often confused with that other place with the similar name some 1,200 kilometers to the east.
You know the place I mean — that be-gabled potatoland also named for the fourth son of King George III.
Prince Edward Island.
Both this County and that Province are named for Prince Edward Augustus, Duke of Kent and Strathearn (1767-1820). Sure, at first glance the father of Queen Victoria, and one-time Commander-in-Chief of North America might deserves to have two places named after him, but at what cost? What of the muddled tourist searching AirBNB for a cottage getaway in the wrong Prince Edward Something? What of the influencer hashtagging the wrong photogenic hotspot? It seems every year there are puffy blog posts about the County which begin with, “not to be confused with Prince Edward Island.”
It’s time for the County to put its foot down about the Prince Edward name and demand exclusivity. Ah, but by what right do we yell “DIBS!”? Simple. We had it first.
On July 16, 1792, Upper Canada’s Lieutenant Governor John Graves Simcoe established Prince Edward County. At that time, Prince Edward Island was known as St. John’s Island (Île St-Jean when it was a French Colony). It wasn’t until 1799 that its name was changed to Prince Edward Island. We had a seven years’ head start.
So let’s turn PEI back into SJI. Maritimers have already evolved a peculiar and charming tolerance for multiple places named for St. John – surely one more won’t hurt. It will of course take the current residents of St. John’s Island a little time to get used to the change, but as Anne of Green Gables once said, “It’s been my experience that you can nearly always enjoy things if you make up your mind firmly that you will.”
Ben Thornton, Picton
International Overdose Awareness Day (IOAD) is recognized each year on August 31 and is an international day of remembrance. It’s a day for friends, loved ones, and people who care about someone who has lost their life due to an overdose to come together.
Hundreds of thousands of people around the world lose their lives to overdose each year. Since 2016, almost 50,000 people have lost their lives from opioid-related causes. In 2023, more than 2,600 Ontarians lost their lives for the same reason.
The overdose crisis doesn’t just shatter our families, it fractures our communities. The losses go deeper than one person, one family, or one neighbourhood. They ripple out into classrooms, workplaces, and the spaces we all share. They cross borders between cities, provinces, and nations.
When people are searching for connection and safety, overdose reminds us that our lives are deeply intertwined.
We often instinctively protect our own—our children, our parents, our siblings. We believe in second chances for our loved ones but struggle to extend that same compassion to others.
But what if we saw each other as one big family, bound not just by blood but by shared experiences, responsibility, and commitment to each other?
Let’s imagine a new meaning of what family can be. A family driven by hope, love, and action. We are one big family—not just because we share in the pain of loss, but because we share in the power to change what comes next.
No one should carry this grief alone. Every story shared, every voice raised, and every step we take brings us closer to a future free from overdose.
This International Overdose Awareness Day, let’s come together as one big family. We hope you will join us this year on August 27, 2025.
Christie Reeve, RN, South East Health Unit
Late Saturday night, Sandbanks decided to join the fire ban that other parts of the province had already imposed. They did not post this information on the reservation site under park alerts, though, nor place any signs easily visible to the public on check in. They could have instructed the gate workers to mention the new information about the fire pits that we use every year we visit. The only sign of the ban was a small page taped to the door of the park office that visitors with reservations never need to visit.
Instead of being proactive about the potential for fire by making sure the new ban information was widely shared, they sent park wardens around to spot fires and issue $180 tickets.
The superintendent said too bad, we communicated clearly… but they didn’t. When I asked the warden to suffice with a warning because we had no idea that the park had added new requirements, she said she was ticketing everyone.
No preparation for the ban, no signs at the entrance, no information on the park alert system, no verbal heads up as we checked in, no warnings from the warden, just expensive tickets.
Park management needs be proactive, not punitive. They should have the grace to cancel all the Sunday night tickets instead of making us drive back to attend court.
Geoff Johnson, Hamilton
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