Flagman of Montreal West flew the colours and themes of the world

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For nearly a decade, residents of Montreal West and those passing through were treated to a regular geography quiz as well as a conundrum: What was the background of the latest flag flying from the green house close to where St-Jacques St. turns into Avon Rd.?

And who was the person flying it?

Every week or two, a new flag commemorating a place or an organization, an event or a moment in time would be hung, serving as a trivia quiz to some or a connection to something much deeper for others.

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The mystery deepened last month when the flags suddenly stopped appearing.

“The last flag I noticed was a Montreal Olympics flag in mid-July. I am saddened to see that the flagpole has been bare since then,” one concerned fan wrote on the Thrive NDG Facebook page in late August. “I am hoping it corresponds to a vacation and not something more dire.

“I don’t know the person responsible, but I wish them well. Those flags taught me a lot. I’d Google the ones I didn’t know.”

The flagman was and still is David-Roger Gagnon, a longtime Montrealer who recently moved to Moncton, N.B. Since 2017, when he lucked into an apartment with a flagpole jutting from beneath the second-storey window, Gagnon had been airing the fruits of his obsession, rotating through his collection of more than 400 flags. Passersby would try to guess the emblem, or the inspiration for the choice of the week, which could range from a standard country flag to something as obscure as Gagnon’s family crest, featuring a golden dove holding an olive branch in its beak.

Inspiration for display choices were varied. Sometimes it was to honour a national day, like the one chosen to mark the Armenian genocide on April 24. The 40th anniversary of the Montreal Olympics happened just before he moved to Montreal West, so the Montreal Olympic flag went up, and returned again before the start of this year’s Paris Olympics. The Survivors’ Flag, created to commemorate the children who never returned from Canada’s residential school system, last flew on Sept. 30, the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation.

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In the days leading up to Canada Day, Gagnon might show the candidates that almost became our national flag, like Prime Minister Lester B. Pearson’s choice, known as the Pearson Pennant. It featured three maple leaves, but was eventually overruled during the drawn-out process known as “the great flag debate” that led to Canada’s distinctive choice.

“At the bottom of every flag is the question ‘Who are we?’ for any country or group trying to design a flag,” Gagnon said. “It’s quite a massive thing to somehow decide this is what’s going to symbolize us, or speak for us, in a graphic way.”

He traces his interest to the age of 4 when his neighbours let him run a flag up a pole they had anchored into a rock on the coast. Coming from a family of artists, Gagnon was always attracted by colour and the process that went into picking the symbols used.

“I’d see a flag and think ‘Well, what is it? What is it saying to me, and what’s the symbol behind it?’ ”

The first pennant purchased for his collection was a Quebec Fleur-de-lis purchased at the National Assembly in Quebec City when he was 18. Most flags in Canada are made in a three-by-six ratio, but Quebec’s was four-by-six, mirroring the flags of France.

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His oldest are a U.S. flag from the 1880s and a Red Ensign from the 1890s, Canada’s de facto flag from 1868 to 1965, which featured a British Union Jack in the top left corner and the shield of Canada on a deep red background. Both are made of wool, popular at the time because it was sturdy and held the wind well from the top of a sailboat mast. Older textiles are fragile (“If a moth gets in, it’s finished”) so Gagnon keeps them in a cedar chest. Modern versions are made of polyester or rayon.

Gagnon finds many of his flags online. Sometimes, they come directly from state departments and municipalities or fellow flag enthusiasts who, like him, are members of the North American Vexillological Association. Sometimes it comes easy, like the time he walked into Charlottetown’s city hall and the mayor handed him the municipal flag immediately. Or it can take years of polite emails and requests. Obtaining a flag that flew from the Peace Tower of Canada’s Parliament took 10 years of courteous “bugging and begging.” The one from Parliament’s West Block took nine years.

Some he will probably never fly, like his multiple versions of the governor general’s flags because protocol dictates they can only be raised when the governor general is present.

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“So the chances are slim, but I’m ready to go if that happens.”

World crises also serve as an impetus. After Gagnon hoisted Ukraine’s flag, a Ukrainian refugee couple living in Montreal sent him a postcard to thank him. They have since become friends. When King Michael of Romania, revered for his anti-Hitler actions in the Second World War, died in 2017, Gagnon flew the Romanian flag with the royal crest.

“I had people knocking at the door because … for many Romanians, he was seen as a hero,” Gagnon said. On rare occasions, “if something went really, really wrong somewhere, I might even show the flag upside down.” The U.S. flag received that treatment when Donald Trump was sworn in.

He doesn’t have every country’s pennant, yet. Side passions, like trying to find the flags for each of Switzerland’s 26 cantons, tend to get in the way. One of his favourites is the Franco-Ténois flag honouring the francophone communities in Northwest Territories, featuring a polar bear and a fleur-de-lis. Among his least favourites is the Tampa Bay city flag because it breaks most of the generally accepted rules for flag design. It has been described by fellow vexillologists as a “monstrosity.”

Gagnon, who worked as a spiritual and community adviser for 10 years at different school boards in Quebec, left Montreal to take a position as a lay pastor for a United Church congregation in Moncton.

He is currently seeking a flagpole, if his landlord is amenable. In the meantime, there’s a flag lashed to the front porch of his new home. The first was the Acadian flag, which was adopted on Aug. 15, 1884. The current one is the Pride Flag, for the River of Pride organization in Moncton that supports the LGBTQ+ community.

“I’m ‘testing the waters,’ as it were, to see if I get any notices or complaints (or if someone steals the flag)” Gagnon told The Gazette.

And to his fans on Facebook, Gagnon wrote: “I have taken a job in the Maritimes, so the Daily Flag Mystery has moved East …”

rbruemmer@postmedia.com

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