This summer, René Lévesque would have been 100 years old. Until August 24th, anniversary date, The duty highlights on all its platforms the memory of the founder of the Parti Québécois, one of the greatest prime ministers in the history of Quebec.
Quebec City, April 10, 1979. Prime Minister René Lévesque walks through the porch of the L’Escale tavern, in the popular Cap-Blanc district. He goes on to shake hands before heading to the pool table, under the amused gaze of customers who are sipping a good beer Dow.
The politician challenges Louise Beaudoin, his candidate for the by-election of Jean-Talon, which then includes the entire sector located at the foot of the cliffs of Cap Diamant. “I haven’t played this in a long time,” Lévesque claims to lower expectations. The duel promises to be unequal all the same between the Prime Minister and the 33-year-old woman whom he nicknames the “petite-bourgeoise of Grande-Allée”.
Lévesque plays to win. He goes so far as to sit on the pool table to aim better. The scene is immortalized by Jacques Nadeau, whose photo perfectly illustrates the rebellious temperament of the former prime minister. “When you play poolyou always have to have one foot on the ground,” recalls the photographer, who was then working for The Canadian Press.
The maneuver pays off for the politician, who wins on the eighth ball. “Mr. Lévesque was a rebel, says Louise Beaudoin, that’s what I liked about him, precisely. The former candidate has excellent memories of this campaign where she also played bowling in front of Jean-Talon voters. “There’s nothing I didn’t do with Mr. Lévesque, we really gave of ourselves. »
For Jacques Nadeau, the pool game at L’Escale was not intended to cultivate the image of a prime minister close to the people. “Everything Lévesque did was because he felt like doing it, it wasn’t for the Kodaks. » The evocative power of the scene was not self-evident on the afternoon of April 10, 1979. « I didn’t say “wow, I have the photo of the year”. It was the colleagues who told me that she was extraordinary. Louise Beaudoin confirms this belated fame. “It amused me at the time, but I never thought it would become iconic. »
Lobbying
The duel between René Lévesque and Louise Beaudoin is in full swing while Lysiane Gagnon weaves between the tables of L’Escale. The journalist from The Press notes the comments of the clientele, made up mainly of longshoremen, firefighters and officers of the Canadian Navy. “It’s a beautiful little woman who introduces herself”, launches one of them, speaking of the candidate.
The presence of Louise Beaudoin does not please everyone. “If they want a place for women, let them open a tavern for them at the other corner of the street,” confides Eric Miller to the representative of The Canadian Press. The candidate may enter, he said, but she must not be served. Unless, of course, she is accompanied by a man who will order for her.
The owner of L’Escale, Jean-Guy Dion, willingly offers a “draft” to Louise Beaudoin. All the same, he became a lobbyist by reminding René Lévesque that his customers wanted to drink their beer “in peace” while watching the television hanging on the wall. “I think it will be better,” replies the prime minister, who has already pledged to open the taverns to women within three years. Dion will not hold it against his famous visitor. “He had found him very nice with the kind of clients he had,” says his widow, Lucille Carrier-Dion. Not everyone went to taverns back then. »
The customers of L’Escale spent most of their time “rebuilding the world by making jokes”, explains the one who managed the kitchen of the establishment operated by her husband between 1972 and 1987. They could also have fun by playing billiards or shuffleboard, a kind of miniature curling. Unlike Louise Beaudoin, Ms.me Carrier-Dion could have ordered a beer without shaking the pillars of the tavern. “I could have,” she laughs, “but I don’t like beer!” »
L’Escale only exists in photos. The disused building on boulevard Champlain is now unrecognizable under a banal blue vinyl covering.
two of three
On April 19, 1979, it was Liberal leader Claude Ryan’s turn to drop anchor at L’Escale with his candidate Jean-Claude Rivest. The reception of the former director of the To have to is polite, nothing more. We are far from the effervescence generated by the visit of the PQ premier a week earlier. “The Liberal leader was sipping a beer he didn’t seem to like very much,” reads The duty of the time.
Ryan is not trying to replicate the “pool scene”. Instead, he discusses politics and hockey with the twenty longshoremen present in the establishment that can hold up to 80 men. Rivest meanwhile remained near the door, where he parleyed with a “young man” who refused to shake hands with his leader. “We were doing a pre-referendum campaign,” explains the former Liberal candidate contacted by The duty.
Jean-Claude Rivest won easily on April 30, with a majority of 5,000 votes. This is a second electoral setback in less than three years for Louise Beaudoin. The Prime Minister then offered her an autographed copy of the photo of the pool table taken by Jacques Nadeau: “To Louise, in memory of a bad game of pool…, but of an election which is only the second of three! Until next time, René L.”