Just A Gal From Glidden: The boy who wanted to know everything

By Kate Winquist

When things slowed down on Friday evening, my mind drifted back to trade shows from years ago. My first was in Shaunavon in 1993, where the local Kinsmen and Kinettes packed both the skating and curling rinks for something called Show-A-Rama. Impressive for a town of just under 2,000 people. The first booth through the door would stop people in their tracks. It belonged to The Shaunavon Standard, where I was working at the time, and they sold full slabs of fresh butter fudge behind a glass cabinet, weighed and sold by the pound, displayed on pine shelving with a lattice top built specifically for the show. You can't go to a trade show anywhere without stopping for homemade fudge, and that booth set the standard.

Already building something. Kate Winquist at Shaunavon's Show-A-Rama, circa 2000, several years after her first introduction to the trade show circuit as an employee at The Shaunavon Standard. By this point she had her own business, her own booth and her own banner. Some things don't change.

Resistance was futile. Vanilla Skor and Caramel Pecan Cluster from E & R Fudge Farm, the first booth through the door at the 2026 Kindersley Tradeshow.

Fast forward to Kindersley 2026. The first booth through the door was E & R Fudge Farm and no, I could not resist getting myself a treat.

One of my favourite conversations from the entire weekend happened before the doors even officially opened. A young boy named Riley, maybe seven or eight, wandered over to look at the photographs. He wasn't interested in a quick glance. He wanted to know everything. Where was this church? What happened to that elevator? Is that a real lightning bolt?

Before long we were deep into thunderstorms, tornadoes and prairie weather. His caregiver came over quietly and mentioned that Riley was autistic and had ADHD. I smiled. I have ADHD too. That explained a lot about both of us.

In that moment I realized Riley and I had more in common than it might have looked. We were both curious. We both liked asking questions. And when something caught our attention, we weren't interested in the short version.

As much as I wanted people to notice the photographs, what I enjoyed most were the conversations they sparked. One person recognized an elevator that had disappeared years ago. Another told me about a church where their grandparents were married. The photos weren't really about buildings at all. They were about memories.

I suspect a lot of what has shaped my life and career stems from that same curiosity. Whether it was newspapers, photography, graphic design or chasing the next creative idea, I've always been drawn to learning something new. Riley reminded me that curiosity isn't something you grow out of. If you're lucky, it's something you carry with you your entire life.

Maybe that's why community newspapers still matter. We're not just recording council meetings, ball games and community events. We're preserving the stories attached to them. The people. The places. The moments that might otherwise be forgotten.

As we packed up the booth Saturday afternoon, I thought about all those trade shows stretching back more than three decades. The businesses have changed. The technology has changed. But the people haven't changed nearly as much. They still want to gather. They still want to visit. They still want to tell stories and hear stories.

I started out standing behind someone else's booth, watching how it was done. These days I bring my own. And I still can't walk past the fudge.