FERGUS – If John Campbell ever found himself atop a pedestal, it would be by mistake.
He’s the do-whatever-needs-doing type and sees himself as a part of the whole, rather than the whole part.
During 58 years of volunteering with the Fergus Scottish Festival and Highland Games, he’s said the words many times over to his late pal, Bill Beattie: “this year will be my last.”
Even then, he knew he was lying to himself.
The next year, he’d be right back as the pipes wailed, the drummers tapped their snares, the clans marched and the beers spilled.
“Bloody hell, we’re back. Oh well, we’ll give it one more year,” Beattie and Campbell would tell each other.
He’s still that way.
But at 88 years old, time has caught up. Slowed much of the doing.
This year, the festival’s 80th anniversary, has been his last.
And this time, he says, it’s the truth.
A Scottish expat, Campbell moved into a two-storey clapboard with his wife Sandy on Wellington Street in Fergus after relocating from Toronto to work at Fergus Cables (now Nexans) in 1967.
He quickly began volunteering as a “gopher,” helping to set up and tear down at Victoria Park, where the games were previously held.
“I got involved a little bit in the games, doing a little help here or there,” he said.
“It was just a natural thing.”
The Fergus Chamber of Commerce, which ran the games for a time after they were started in 1946 by the late Alex Robertson, asked Campbell to chair the games in 1975-76.
Despite hailing from Edinburgh, Campbell had never attended any highland games before coming to Fergus.
His Scottish brogue seemed his only qualification.
“The games then was nothing like what it is today,” Campbell said.
A handful of volunteers, including himself, put on a “fairly simple” but “well-done” event, he said, with highland dancing, pipe band competitions, heavy sports, Scottish clans, a midway and a 10km run.

John Campbell, centre, in front of highland dancers during the Fergus Highland Games at Victoria Park in 1974. Supplied photo
In those days, the clans would gather ahead of the games at St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church for a blessing of the tartan by the late Reverend Murray Laurenson.
Aside from a parade and some flags, there wasn’t any of the big to-do of today’s festival, with its bleachers, big sound stage, tents, food trucks, entertainment, shows and talent such as Outlander author Diana Gabaldon or Outlander TV star Charles Vandervaart.
“It was simple because we had very few volunteers,” Campbell said.
Despite its early simplicity, Campbell said the games would often draw between 15,000 and 20,000 people.
He’s responsible for starting the “avenue of clans” festival-goers see today, with upwards of 40 Scottish family lineages now represented.
Campbell would write letters and work the phones for months – these were the days before internet and social media – organizing what was then a one-day event.
His heritage motivated him to take word of the games across the Atlantic to a gathering of the clans in Scotland in the early 2000s.
“It helped to promote Fergus,” he said.
Campbell kept a front-row seat as the games grew, maturing over the decades into a fully-fledged festival during its 1992 incorporation.
It was later relocated to its roomier present-day location at the Centre Wellington Community Sportsplex in 1996.
“It’s amazing how big it is now,” Campbell said.
After his 1975-76 term as chair was up (he served another in the mid-’80s) Campbell kept on with the games’ volunteer committee to present day.
He kept his hands dirty throughout, setting up and tearing down tents and doing the gopher work. He also served for a few years as treasurer.
Along the way, his children would also get involved with the games. Andrew, one of three sons, took over organizing the clans for five years.
“I wanted to do other things, but I still stayed with it,” Campbell said.

The Red Hot Chili Pipers play the big stage for the Scottish Saturday Night live music event on Aug. 10 at the 80th Fergus Scottish Festival and Highland Games. Photo by Ryan Joyce
For nearly a decade, he orchestrated guests of honour, the singing of O Canada, and the colour party and pipe bands for the opening ceremonies with Brent Campbell (no relation) and Beattie.
“There isn’t one facet of the operation I haven’t ran,” he said.
Sandy said, “no matter what we gave up, we had to be here.”
“It was also about giving back to the town – that was always important to me,” Campbell said, adding “it was a two-way street.”
“You do it for the joy of it, otherwise you wouldn’t do it.”
Warren Trask has led the festival’s heavy games for the past 35 years.
“I always looked up to John,” Trask said.
Though in his early 20s at the time, Campbell believed in Trask and let him lead the heavy events — a main attraction.
Campbell, like Beattie, and other long-time volunteers, were strongly invested in the festival’s success, Trask said.
They had “quiet leadership abilities,” he said, but were never far from the centre.
Now 60, having volunteered for over four decades himself, Trask said he doesn’t see Campbell “losing stride at all,” and believes he still has much to offer.
“I think it’s so much in his blood, even though he says he’s going, he’ll stay involved,” Trask said.
“I hope he doesn’t leave, but he has definitely given more than his share.”

A competitor throws a stone at the Fergus Highland Games in 1980. (Wellington County Museum and Archives, photo 11691)
Campbell isn’t ready to slow down, but mobility challenges at his age mean he’s at the festival for a day or two instead of almost living there like he used to.
Campbell took on a pared down role for the anniversary weekend this month, completely handing over the reins to Brent (the other Campbell of no relation) for the opening ceremonies.
Campbell only brought in the clans.
“That’s all I could do to be quite honest,” he said.
“We sort of put our foot down,” Sandy said.
Their sons told him, “‘Relax, this is it. No more, John; no more doing this,’” she said.
Brent said Campbell brought to the festival his signature “kindness, dependability, and personal integrity to do a task well.”
The two spent more than 30 years volunteering together, with Campbell having mentored Brent into leading the ceremonies.
“He’s going to be really hard to replace, there’s no question about it,” Brent said.
If Campbell returns next year, it’ll be as one of the 20,000-plus festival-goers watching from the sidelines as the efforts of hundreds of volunteers come together to turn chaos into a world-class event.
“I cannot not go to the games,” Campbell said.
“The games has always been part of me and always will be.”

Pipe and drum bands assemble en masse before spectators for an awards ceremony at the 80th Fergus Scottish Festival and Highland Games on Aug. 9. Photo by Jordan Snobelen
Festival director Elizabeth Bender said Campbell dedicated a “very large chunk of his life” to the festival, taking the games’ early vision and carrying it through the years.
Campbell is wary of being elevated to something of a rarity, even as he said “old-timers” like him carry the weight of volunteering in the community.
“I don’t want to be on a pedestal,” he said.
Across more than a half century, Campbell said he most enjoyed being part of something bigger than himself.
“Standing on the stage, and you’re looking out and you see the mass bands and you see the colour, the pageantry, the music, the blue sky, the flags, all of that,” he said.
“It stirs the cockles of your heart,” he said.
“There’s nothing like it in the world,” he added.
“And in all God’s truth, it has put Fergus on the map.”
