Happyland Pool Demolished: A Community’s Heartbreak in St. Boniface

Yesterday, the long, painful saga of Happyland Pool came to a heartbreaking conclusion when the city of Winnipeg demolished the much-loved community pool. For generations, Happyland Pool was more than a recreational facility—it was a cornerstone of St. Boniface, a place where children learned to swim, families gathered, and lifelong memories were forged. Its absence leaves a void felt deeply by residents.

Sandra Dupuis, the long-time president of the community association, has been at the forefront of the fight to save the pool for decades. Her grief and frustration were evident. “This isn’t just about a pool,” she said. “It’s about the soul of St. Boniface. Watching it being destroyed—well, it felt like watching part of our history vanish before our eyes.”

Dupuis was particularly critical of city leadership, naming Councillor Matt Allard as the figure the community largely blames for the closure. “Matt Allard is a one-man wrecking ball,” she said. “He is totally destroying St. Boniface on his way out.” She went further, explaining that under Allard’s tenure, three pools in the area—including Norwood, Windsor Park, and now Happyland—have closed, leaving residents feeling abandoned. Dupuis also expressed frustration with the current mayor, Scott Gillingham, for allowing the closure to proceed, emphasizing that residents feel let down by those in leadership positions.

The community has long suspected that some facilities receive preferential treatment. Dupuis recalled reaching out to a former Premier to advocate on behalf of residents, but she said he indicated it was “not his place” to intervene. While these are Dupuis’ perceptions and community sentiment, they reflect a broader feeling of neglect and frustration that has built over decades.

The community was particularly outraged to discover that under a previous councillor, funds earmarked specifically for Happyland Pool had been reallocated into general budgets. “We uncovered it through City Hall records,” Dupuis said. “It felt like a betrayal from every angle.”

Despite decades of advocacy, the residents’ fundraising efforts—totaling over $86,000, far exceeding the city’s estimated annual operating cost of $36,000—were ultimately dismissed. Residents were confident that with continued support, Happyland Pool could have remained open for years, serving as a vital hub for recreation, social connection, and learning. Yet the city rejected the proposal.

The reasons for the pool’s closure remain unclear, though developers have identified the site as prime real estate. Speculation is already circulating about future development, but the city has provided no confirmed details, leaving residents anxious and uncertain about what will replace the pool.

There has been talk of a new Aqua Centre in the area, but concerns have arisen about accessibility. Dupuis and other community advocates caution that such a facility may not be affordable for many residents, given the neighbourhood’s ongoing social and economic challenges. “Even if they build it, families won’t be able to pay just to enter,” Dupuis said. “A pool needs to be accessible to everyone. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

The emotional impact on the community was immediate and palpable. Children who had learned to swim there clung to memories of summers spent in the water. Seniors remembered decades of shared laughter and life lessons. Parents and grandparents mourned a space that had been an extension of their home.

From my perspective as a writer and advocate for the St. Boniface community, this loss is profoundly troubling. Recreational spaces like Happyland Pool are not mere luxuries—they are essential services. They provide safe, accessible, and low-barrier activities for children and families, help deter crime, and foster strong community connections. We have already invested in this city through our taxes; the residents of St. Boniface deserve to benefit from their contributions.

I have long maintained that our neighbourhoods need more accessible recreational venues, more sports programs, and fewer barriers to participation. Pools, in particular, are vital. They are lifelines for families who may not have the resources for private facilities or activities. Losing Happyland Pool is not just a loss of water and slides—it is a loss of community, equity, and opportunity.

As demolition crews cleared the site, the weight of this loss was visible in the tears of residents, young and old. Children and adults alike held onto memories of summers past, knowing that no new development could fully replace the sense of community the pool provided. Dupuis, a five-time cancer survivor in her sixties, expressed her heartbreak: “We’ve fought for decades, and this is the result. It shouldn’t happen to anyone—not to a family, not to a community advocate, not to a neighbourhood that has invested so much in its children and families.”

Moving forward, I am committed to ensuring that the people of Happyland and St. Boniface have accessible, free recreational spaces that serve the greater good. A pool is not a privilege—it is a community asset. Anyone in a position of leadership must prioritize equity, accessibility, and public benefit, particularly for neighbourhoods that have historically faced social and economic challenges.

While the future of the site remains uncertain, the voices of residents are clear. They are not seeking to assign blame—they are asking for fairness, inclusion, and access. The demolition of Happyland Pool should be a wake-up call: communities need spaces that belong to the people, spaces that nurture connection, opportunity, and well-being.

Happyland Pool may be gone, but its story is far from over. It is a cautionary tale about the importance of public spaces and a call to action to ensure that every child and family in St. Boniface has the recreational opportunities they deserve. From my perspective, if I am in a position of leadership next year, I will commit to seeing that the residents of this community have a pool—and public spaces more broadly—that are truly accessible, welcoming, and free.