Powell River residents began converging on grand old Dwight Hall an hour before the doors opened, forming two lines stretched around the block in both directions.
“It’s almost like a concert,” said 57-year-old Glenn Locke. “It’s so many people for a political [event] that you’d never see in the past.
“This just shows you how fed-up people are and how people want to change.”
A recently retired postal worker, Locke has heard Poilievre speak many times online, but when he and his wife, Christine, learned the Opposition Leader was making the trip to Powell River, they wanted to see him in person.
“We’re here to listen for ourselves, get the word from the horse’s mouth, because there is a lot of misinformation everywhere on both sides,” Christine said. “We actually don’t have much faith in much of what we hear online, so we’d like to hear it for ourselves.”
“We’re here to listen for ourselves.”
Christine Locke
Many of the two dozen or so people interviewed as they waited in line said they too wanted to cut through the online noise and hear Poilievre first-hand. A mix of decided and undecided voters, attendees representing a cross section of ages, occupations and genders. A majority expressed worry or exasperation with the status quo.
“The rising cost of living, rising crime, the court systems, immigration, taking everybody’s guns away. Basically, the last eight years have kind of derailed Canada,” said Nigel Dingwell.
Even Powell River is not the small town he grew up in, he said.
“When drugs are made readily available and pretty much given a free pass, then that leads to crime and chaos and all types of shenanigans… I’m not in favour of the safe supply.”
Dave Warris, a third-generation Powell River resident, added gas prices and taxes to the grievance list.
Sixteen-year-old Leif Ervington came to the rally with his 17-year-old friend Noah Doyle to hear Poilievre and better understand his policies. Ervington is concerned about climate change. Both Grade 11 students are worried about how they’re going to afford rent and groceries when they move away to attend university.
“I’m just here to learn more about what he plans to do, so I can form my own opinions about it,” Doyle said.
Doyle’s mother, Michelle, said she came to listen.
“People don’t often make it up to Powell River,” she said. “I’m interested to hear what [Poilievre] has to say. With all the hype that we see on social media, in the news, to just see him in person, and take the opportunity to hear him, and hear the sincerity of what he has to say.”
Glory days in a company town
Queen Elizabeth visited Powell River in 1971. The last prime minister to make it up there was Pierre Trudeau in 1976. Since then, it’s been a desert as far as high profile political celebrities goes – Jagmeet Singh, presumably, does not rate, despite the region being an NDP stronghold.
Powell River is in an idyllic setting of verdant forest and lush ocean coastline. It’s now a popular tourist destination, but it began as a company town, a mill town, and a forestry town.
The Powell River Company started a paper mill in 1908 and built a community to house its employees and their families. The mill grew to one of the largest newsprint plants in Canada. In 1911, Julius Bloedel, whose descendants later merged to form MacMillan Bloedel, bought up huge tracts of forest in the area, setting up one of the world’s largest logging camps.
Early Powell River
Back in the early 20th century, resource companies were genuine community builders. In 1927, Powell River Company constructed Dwight Hall, the venue for this evening’s rally. At the time, it was hailed a modern marvel with a sprung-floor ballroom, a mirrored disco ball, a stage, dressing rooms, kitchen, and meeting rooms. The hall hosted major community events: dances, weddings, Christmas dinners, workers’ meetings, and on.
“It was the heart of the community,” said North Island-Powell River riding campaign volunteer, Dallas Middleton. “When we were pushing [local Conservative candidate] Aaron [Gunn] to bring Pierre here, there’s no doubt in my mind that we wanted to bring him to this place.”
So it was on Jan. 14 that Dwight Hall briefly returned to its glory days, pulsing yet again with community spirit. Estimates range, but upwards of 800 people crammed into its cavernous ballroom, achieving the old dance hall capacity heights. Poilievre’s rally was later touted as the largest political gathering in Powell River’s history.
‘Promise made, promise delivered’
People were still pouring through the front doors when Gunn stepped onto a raised platform in the centre of the ballroom – with Dwight’s original circa 1927 mirrored disco ball hanging from the ceiling above him – and began warming up the crowd for his boss.
“Promise made, promise delivered – Pierre Poilievre is in the building!” Gunn boomed to the throng sardined around him. The crowd roared a cheer, raised their hands, waved signs, and strained to see if the man polls expect to be the next Prime Minister had entered the room.

Gunn and his North Island-Powell River riding team organized the rally. A social media commentator and filmmaker critical of ‘woke culture’ before it was fashionable, Gunn is one of the party’s star candidates. His short films on hot-button, public policy issues, and feature-length socio-political documentaries have been viewed millions of times.
When Poilievre finally appears in the hall, a soundtrack blaring, it takes him two-and-a-half minutes to wade through well-wishers to reach the stage.
“I was told that this was a small NDP town, that there were no Conservatives in Powell River,” he says grinning at the enthusiastic welcome.
The federal New Democrats have held the riding since 2015, and provincially, Powell River has been represented by the BC NDP since 2001.
Being greeted by cheering crowds is not new for Poilievre. For the last while, his appearances have drawn big audiences across Canada. Elected MP in Nepean-Carleton in 2004 when he was 25, Poilievre became Conservative leader in September 2022. Since then, he’s gained steady traction with Canadian voters dissatisfied with the federal Liberal government.
His platform promises to cut taxes, incentivize housing construction, encourage investment in Canadian businesses, expand resource development, repeal censorship laws, and reduce government over-regulation and public service spending.
The Canadian dream
On stage at the rally, the self-described “born and bred Alberta boy” talks about restoring the “Canadian promise”– if you work hard, you can get a great life.
After nine years of Liberal governance – the last several years with NDP support – he says housing costs are crippling, crime, drugs and disorder are rampant, and government is dividing people into separate groups and turning them against each other.
The good news, he tells the audience, is “life was not like this before this NDP Liberal government, and it won’t be like this after they’re gone.”
The applause is loud.

Over the next 40 minutes, he gives a lesson on inflation and economics, while cycling through what he sees as the federal government’s many failings and the Conservative Party’s solutions, The latter elicits wave-after-wave of cheers.
A Conservative government will end decriminalization, stop federal funding of safe supply, invest in policing at ports, keep repeat serious offenders in jail, and prosecute fentanyl traffickers for murder, he said. It will also sue big pharmaceutical companies responsible for the OxyContin opioid crisis and use the money to finance national addictions treatment and recovery services.
More applause.
He vows to repeal C-69, dubbed the ‘No More Pipelines Act’ by opponents, and rapidly build mines, pipelines, and liquefaction plants, as well as, fight the softwood lumber tariffs, reduce government regulation and incentivize investment in the forestry sector.
Without mentioning the U.S. president by name, Poilievre addresses recent annexation taunts, saying, Canada will not become the 51st state.
“We will be a proud nation that bows and kneels before no one.”
To Americans, he says, “We love you as neighbours and as friends. But do not allow our polite demeanour and our humble tone to confuse you. We are deeply proud of our heritage as Canadians and we will honour our–“
The volume of cheering obliterates the end of his sentence.
But arguably the most enthused response follows his promises to never impose vaccine mandates again, “to stand up for the rights of parents to make their own decisions about what they teach their kids about sexuality and gender,” and to rebuild Canada’s military to a “warrior culture, not a woke culture.”
Warrior, not woke message gets two thumbs up
“That was just amazing what he was saying, it’s a warrior culture, not a woke culture,” says George Woitzik, a carpenter working in the French school district. “We need to get away from that, especially with the children in the schools.
“If [people] want to be gay or trans, or whatever, it’s fine. Just leave the children alone.”
Grade 11 student, Ivan, whose name has been changed to protect his privacy, says he wants to “de-wokify” Canada.
“My parents have lived in a generation where wokeness started. I’m living in the generation where wokeness is its strongest, and I want to be the generation where it is dissolved.”
Ivan says he’s fed up with identity politics in school.
“We are taught about gender and sexuality in classrooms, which I don’t think is the school’s right whatsoever,” he says.
“I will never step into a female washroom. I think that’s wrong. I think that is intrusive upon females, and I’ll never do that.”
Ivan’s two high school friends say they’re worried about housing prices and affordability, with one wondering whether he’ll have to move to the U.S. to buy a home.
All three are upbeat after hearing Poilievre speak and meeting him in-person.
“A brilliant speaker. So much confidence. And I found he hit upon some very, very brave points,” enthuses Ivan. “And I love his put-Canada-first policies. He gave me hope about a future in Canada.”
“He gave me hope about a future in Canada.”
Ivan, Grade 11 student
Jamie Kelly thinks kids could use less catastrophizing and more upbeat messaging in school.
“My [18-year-old] daughter knows more about the news than I did when I was 40, because all she hears is, ‘We can’t do it. We can’t make it.’ Every kid you talk to will say, ‘I can’t afford a house when I get older.’”
“I don’t hear any messaging for kids like, ‘Hey, this is going to be good. It’s all going to work out,’” says Kelly at an event Poilievre attended the next day.
“I said [to my kids], ‘Listen, you’re going to be able to afford a house. I’m going to have to help you, but you’re going to be able to afford it, no matter what happens.’”
All three of Kelly’s kids, aged 18 to 21, vote and want to improve the world, he says, and his sons like Poilievre. But Kelly wonders where this political engagement will lead if young people grow disillusioned.
“You’re going to create a group of young men who are going to be really pissed in 20 years if you don’t figure shit out. It’s [already] happening all around Europe.”
The education system has completely lost its focus on reading, writing and arithmetic, says George Belyea. “It’s all about the given ideology at a certain time and infusing it into all these different aspects of [school life], the lack of letter grades, on and on.”
Some parents worry about repercussions on their kids if they push back against content in the classroom, Belyea says. “If that [fear of speaking out] even enters their mind, we’re already in a place we shouldn’t be.
“I don’t have to agree with what people say, but how do we have dialogue? How do we challenge ideas, if we can’t talk about them?”
Man in the arena
Rally organizers had hoped for 500 people and ended up drawing closer to double. Even Gunn has a steady flow of people encircling him, wanting to talk after the rally.

“The energy for the size of the city, it blew me away,” Gunn says.
About two thirds of attendees stick around to speak one-on-one with Poilievre, shake his hand, and snap a photo together.
Poilievre stays to the last person.
“I’m impressed,” says Michelle Doyle after she and her family speak with Poilievre. “I just stood there and watched him. He’s talking to every single person. He’s listening to them. He’s having actual conversations with everyone.”
In a small, tight-knit town like Powell River, that kind of extra-inning effort is noticed, says Conservative volunteer, Middleton, whose wife is a fourth-generation resident.
“That’s what we want to see, right? That’s what anybody would want to see from a leader.”
Standing in position, in one-on-one conversations, absorbing people’s urgent messages, holding eye contact, staying engaged for hours may not sound like much, but sustained active listening takes stamina.
‘We’re hoping… it’s not just words’
As the minutes tick by, more people keep joining Poilievre’s queue creating the illusion the line isn’t shrinking, even as person-after-person steps up to share their story, impart advice, or make a request of the man who may soon be Prime Minister.
The crowd size and vibe resembles Trudeaumania 2.0 according to a source who’s worked at rallies for both Poilievre and Justin Trudeau. Back in his peak of popularity, Trudeau stuck around for countless selfies with fans.
In Dwight Hall, the Locke family are among the diehards wending their way through Poilievre’s queue. They say hearing him in person has given them optimism. Now they need follow-through.
“We’re really hoping that he’s going to stick to everything that he said he’s going to do, and stand behind it. You know what I mean? That it’s not just words,” says Glenn.
Three hours after stepping off the stage, Poilievre shakes his last hand, listens to his last entreaty, and signs his last jersey.
Then, just shy of 10:30 pm, weighted with the hopes and worries of another hard-working community, Poilievre slips out the back door, his staff and security detail in tow, and heads to the hotel.