Every year, the couple travelled to Jasper to maintain connections to family and community. In 2008, Neil began showing early signs of dementia, so they stepped away from Green Hills Academy and looked for other opportunities. On one trip home, friends who were inspired by their work offered funds for the Fentons to continue supporting education, this time in rural Rwanda.
That’s how Fenton came up with the idea for her non-profit, Tools for Schools, and the Rotary Club in Jasper donated, too. Starting in 2009, she travelled to rural locations and, in concert with Rwandan colleagues, helped build and equip 13 classrooms for preschool students, trained 1,470 teachers, designed and stocked nine libraries, and built three playgrounds. In 2019, Neil moved to a care facility in Canada, and he died in 2021.
Fenton returned to Rwanda by herself for a time, getting stuck in the country during the pandemic. She came back to Alberta for good in 2022.
Fenton stays abreast of her Kigali life, hearing about innovations underway that are characteristic of her friends there. The remote schools, for example, now have electricity and composting toilets that create methane gas that can be used as fuel. It’s the kind of adaptability she appreciated in Rwanda.
Her own adaptability has stood her in good stead. She was settling into life in Jasper when, in 2024, wildfires hit. With 15 minutes’ notice, she escaped with her daughter, her granddaughter who was visiting from England, their go-bags — and a mobility scooter that Fenton’s daughter uses due to Muscular Dystrophy, disassembling it for travel as fast as they could.
“It took us an hour to get out of the back alley and three hours to get out of town,” she remembers. “Twenty-five thousand people and no one misbehaved. It was like a string of Christmas lights.” But their house burned to the ground.
Fenton settled in a high rise on the edge of downtown Edmonton and sold her car so she could walk or take rideshares. She got a little dog that has been a conduit to meeting new friends and building community. She doesn’t lament the items she’s lost; she says she still has the memories. “I was telling my son, ‘I quite like it here,’” she says.