John Barker Burgess 05/13/12 - 01/29/77

John and Mark were the most jovial ones of the bunch, always quick with a laugh or joke. Mark was quicker to jump into the fray than any of them, but John would be quick to follow. All of the Burgesses were quirky in their own way, and some more so than others. John was good company and would answer anything you would ask him about the family, and It pains me that I never got to talk to him in depth. I was visiting with him one day, and was starting to wonder about the Burgesses, and their history, and remarked to him that in the future I would be asking him some stuff about the family, and he said just ask away, and that he would tell me what I wanted to know if he knew. John like the rest of the family was born in the Port Hope, Cobourg area. In his early years for a while John worked on a fishing boat out of Port Hope when there was commercial fishing on Lake Ontario. When the family moved to the Kitchener area John met Beatrice, they married and had one son Billy, who was born a few months after me in Kitchener as well. The picture is Billy on Benton St. in Kitchener, with mother in the back ground with a couple other women. After the war I guess John divorced Beatrice and married Shirley, and they had two girls Bonnie, and Debbie. Bonnie had a heart problem when she was born, and was called at the time a Blue Baby. A week after arriving in Toronto in 1952 mother says why don't you go on the streecar and visit with Uncle John and I said I would. I called John and he said get on the Queen car and get of at Sherborne and walk up to Winchester and that he would meet me at the Hotel there. I got on the Queen car and it had to detour around Yonge St, because of the Yonge St. Subway dig. I got the Sherbourne and started walking up the street when a dog, a little Scottie rand of the porch of a house and bit me, at which I kicked him half way across the street. I walked up the street and met John and we continued, and an old guy lost control of his car and crashed into a cement utility pole just missing us, and was left with his horn blowing. John reached under the hood and pulled the wires out of the horn stopping the racket and we continued on our way to his house. What an auspicious start for my life in Toronto, was it an omen of things to come. One day not so long after, mother says to me, Uncle John is in trouble, the police have surrounded his house, and at first wouldn't let Debbie in, after getting there on her way home from school, she being eight or nine at the time. Evidently John's next door neighbor had asked Mark who had a friend who worked at Winchester, in Cobourg to get him a rifle, and John was looking at it on his front porch, showing it to the neighbor, who wanted it, and the neighbor's wife thought that they had threatened her with the gun and called the police. There were charges laid, there was some kind of a court case, where John got off, because it was a hot day, and it was blamed on the steel plate he had in his head as a result of a war wound.

Mark Burgess

Picture one is Helena Burgess and son Mark, picture two is Mark Burgess, picture three is Mark, Allan Miloff, and Helena Burgess

Mark Burgess was the youngest of the Burgess Clan. Mark lied about his age and joined the army when he was sixteen years old. Mark went to Europe and was wounded while fighting in Belgium. While in England Mark met and married Marie, a Welsh girl. Marie got pregnant and when the war ended came to Canada, to live with Mark. Marie held out in Canada for about ten years but at some point couldn't take Mark any more so up and went back to Wales with Patricia their daughter. Mark when sober was a very nice guy, but when drunk could turn on a dime, and get very violent. Mark was barred from the Legions, of Port Hope, and Cobourg, and probably many in Toronto. Mark seemed to give the impression, of liking to fight. If Mark couldn't find someone else to fight with he would fight with his brothers, perhaps a by product of being the youngest in a very competitive family.
One day while living in the College St. and Ossington area Mark came out of the apartment to find someone had blocked his car in and when confronting the person, the guy wouldn't still move the car so Mark went and got his shotgun and in effect told the gut if he didn't move the car Mark would blow his head off. That seemed to work, the guy moved the car, but reported Mark to the Police for threatening him, over which Mark was arrested and wound up in court. Mark was given a slight fine and let go , and asked the Judge if and when he could have his shotgun, which, had been seized by the Police back. I as well as everyone else was surprised at that, and so surprised I can't remember what the Judge said. I had gone to the court, and this was my first time in court. I was about 18 at the time so it would have been around 1955.
In around the same time my friend John Brunelle had gone to the car races at the Exhibition Grounds one Easter weekend and when we returned from the races, we found Uncle John, Uncle Mark, Grandfather, and my stepfather George playing cards. John and Mark had brought Grandfather Burgess done for one of his rare visits. They asked me if I wanted to join in and I said no, but John Brunelle said he would like to. I kind of whispered to John don't do it John, their wild. John was addicted to cards himself and didn't listen to me, so sat in on the game. John's nickname at work was " The Brute " the reason being when he was young he had, had polio, and was only a little guy, so it was one of those things when they named the guy the opposite of what he really was. It was a warm day and mother generally had the house warmer than it should have been, and I sat in the easy chair watching TV, and dozing off, when all of a sudden I woke up to a loud scream, and an awful crash, from the kitchen where the game was going on. I ran in to see what had happened and there is the Brute out cold on the floor. It seems Mark thought Uncle John did something wrong and swung at him, but the Brute trying to be a peace maker got in the way and took the punch. As I was helping the Brute off the floor I was giving him shit for not paying attention to me when I told him not to play with these guys and Mark is apologizing for missing his mark. While Mark outlived the rest of the clan he didn't live to be the oldest, that turned out to be his brother John. Mark seemed to have great difficulty in holding onto a job for a variety of reasons, and eventually lived with his mother, and taking care of her, in her later years, in the house at 107 Hope St in Port Hope and eventually inheriting the house, upon her death. Mark probably, like his brother John received a pension from the Army because of his war wounds, and that was how he could survive. After his daughter in Wales got married, at some point he reconciled with her, as they had been previously estranged, he went for a visit, had a good time and eventually sent her the money to help her and her husband to come for a visit, and meet with all of her relatives over here. While Pat enjoyed visiting with her father, Port Hope is a small town with not much going on, and Mark wasn't one to go out much so Pat jumped at the chance to come to Richmond Hill with us for a few days. When she was here we talked Mark into coming down, to Richmond Hill and all the men would go to the cottage at Pickerel River including Pat's husband. Pat went to Niagara Falls with Aunt Shirley, Johns wife her other cousin Debbie, her kids, and our Amanda.
Anne and Allison were in a Majorette parade somewhere. By the time their visit to Canada was over Pat had bonded with our family at least very well and were sorry to have to go. On our 25th anniversary, Anne and I went on a tour of Eastern Europe, which started in England and included, Holland, East Germany, Berlin, Poland, The Soviet Union, Finland, Sweden, and Denmark, and when it was over had about a week left in England. While in England we rented a car and went to visit with Pat in Wales. Pat would eventually divorce and marry again to Neil Price. Pat and Neil would come over for a visit, and we would go on a camping trip after spending a week at the cottage in Pickerel River to Richibucto N.B. where my sister lives. We visited there for a few days and camped back through the States, going through Maine, Vermont and New York State taking them to Niagara Falls, where they went on the Maid of the Mist, to under the falls. The next time we were to see them was after Mark's death when they came over to the funeral and to finalize all the necessary documentation relating to the property.
Marks death was the end of the direct family of the Burgess's, which seemed extra sad, even though inevitable.

Allan William Bentley Burgess

Pearl with Rosemary

Allan William Bentley Burgess, or most times called Benny, or more formally by his mother, or others at times, Bentley, was a real charmer when he was sober, what I always thought to be a real ladies man. The Burgess clan answer to Cary Grant. When he was drunk though, which was often he was a mean, mean, person. Benny embodied the Jekyll and Hyde syndrome. Benny married Pearl in Kitchener where they met, and they had two daughters Dianne, and Carrol. Pearl I think can be said was the most beautiful woman of the Burgess clan by far, and the same can be said of her two daughters. I never got to know Benny either because around me at least never opened up very much, and we never seemed to get together much, and when we did it seemed to be by accident, rather than design. Benny was a Painter Paper Hanger, and was very good at his job. Benny hung paper on the ceiling of my mothers house at 13 Tyndall Ave. and this was before the advent of pre glued paper. It was this time that I think I spoke with Benny the most. I think I was at his house once or twice but not much, and so therefore I never got to know his girls much. Benny was never accepted into the army for the second war because of flat feet, and perhaps this might have been a contributing factor to his meanness when drunk, he might have felt left out on something all his brothers took part in, mind you it can't be the entire factor because there was a certain meanness to all the male members of the clan. Pearl worked for Eaton's for many years and a lot on the information desk in the Basement, and any time I would be in Eaton's I would make a point of going to talk with her. Pearl was not only a beautiful woman she had a personality to match, and everyone I ever met who knew her thought the same. Because of Benny's drinking and meanness, Pearl eventually felt compelled to divorce Benny, and we all thought what a shame, how could this doughead let this woman get away. Pearl eventually remarried and as far as we know had a happy marriage until her second husbands death. After the divorce and remarriage we lost touch with Pearl for many years, and when we eventually did re-establish our relationship, we found that she never changed, and that even in her eighty's she is still a beautiful woman, with a great personality. It was also good to hear she had a great relationship with her second husband because she deserved it.
As a youngster when John, Benny's older brother was going out hunting one day, Benny asked to go with him and John said no he couldn't go. Benny stewed about it the whole day and when John returned and put the gun down, a 22, Benny picked it up and said he had a good mind to shoot John, and John said, shoot, shoot, and Benny pulled the trigger and shot John. John had thought he unloaded the gun but evidently didn't. As the bullet didn't pose a problem and it would have been more dangerous to take it out, they just left it there and John died of a relatively old age with it still in him.
Benny eventually died of a stroke at his mother's dinning room table, at 107 Hope St. in Port Hope Ont.

Charles Burgess

Charles Charles and Ruth
Charles, or as he was called most times Charley, was a very quitet guy not speaking much unless he was spoken to. It was very hard to get to know anything about Charley because he never volunteered any information. Charley married Ruth Hartleib of Waterloo Ont. Ruth lived on the opposite side of Elizabeth Ziegler School in Waterloo, and her younger Brother Dennis went to school with Rosemary, Max, and myself. Dennis was about a year younger than me, and so was in the class between Max and myself in school. We were a few years in school before we even found out that Dennis was related to us. Charles and Ruth had two children Mary-Lou, and Brenda. Charles went through the second war unharmed, and the above picture on a tank, or armoured car is of him. Charley was killed in a traffic accident on the 401 highway on the way to visit his mom in Port Hope. Ruth eventually died as well, of cancer I think and it was as indirectly as a result of that, I found Irvin Beare my friend from the orphanage that I had been searching for for years. When Ruth died, about fifteen years ago I was at the cottage hunting, and wasn't told about it until Emile came up a few days later. He told me about meeting Dennis Hartleib at the funeral, and that Dennis said we should drop in to see him when we were in Waterloo. It had been so long since talking to Dennis that it took me a few minutes to realize who he was. This was interesting because I had wanted to try and re-establish myself with some old school friends who I had lost touch with. We did go down to the Market in Kitchener one day and dropped in on Dennis and his family, and talked about our old school chums, and I told him if he ever run into Irvin Beare to let me know, or get a phone number. Irvin unbeknown-st to us was retired from the RCN, and was living in Ottawa, and when his mother died in Waterloo came down for the funeral, and contacted Dennis. Dennis told Irvin that I had been trying to get in touch, with him and got Ivins phone number in Ottawa and called me with it. I called Irvin and that is the start of another story. We did contact Dennis again but he was strangely stand offish, and so never spoke to him again until Elizabeth Zielger's 75th Anniversary, at which time he seems to be still stand offish. I won't interject my self where I am not wanted, so I guess that is that for Dennis. It was a good thing to meet him though because of his information about Irvin which I really wanted, and our being able to get together again.


As I said in the beginning it was very hard to get to know much about Charley, or the way, or what he even felt about things, if we had been drinkers we might have found out a little more, because one trait that all the Burgess men had was that they were drinkers, to a fault.

Helena Burgess nee Fayle

Helena Burgess and Allan Miloff 1938

Helena Fayle came to Canada from The Isle of Mann in her teens to work as a Domestic. While working in Canada she sent for her siblings two brothers, John, and William, and a sister Elsie. She met and married Allan Burgess and had 5 Children John, Charles, Allan, Mark, and Eleanor.
I was her first Grandchild, the son of Eleanor, and became probably her favorite, for that reason.

At this writing I don't know her age when she died, but it was pretty good and in fact outlived four of her children. While she lived to a pretty good age, it wasn't as good as her sister Elsie who lived to be 101 years old. Most of her life was lived at 107 Hope St in Port Hope Ont, in a home built on radioactive mine tailings from Eldorado Mines, which had a big uranium processor in Port Hope on the Ganaraska River, and Lake Ontario.

Grandmother was a very hardworking woman, as was my mother who took after her in that area. She was a very meek and mild woman, except if you got her riled. Her son Mark, my uncle was badly wounded during the second war in Belgium and was in the hospital recuperating when an Officer came around for an inspection. While checking out Mark, Mark is said to have puked all over the Officer, who put Mark on some sort of report and had his pay docked. After hearing about this Grandmother contacted her local MP complaining and the Local papers found out about it, causing a big stink, and correcting the situation . I remember her making roast beef and mashed potatoes and gravy, and used to tell her she made the best gravy. Grandfather used to like his roast beef with the blood coming out of it, and I didn't like that but the gravy was great. What grandmother would like more than anything was to come to the CNE and play bingo. I swear she could play 10 cards at once while I had trouble playing 2 cards. She was also generally a happy person, although I couldn't figure that out at times.

Allan Burgess July 23-1890-1963

Grandfather was born in Oldham, Lancashire, England July 23-1890 and as I understand it emigrated to Canada with his family when he was about five years old. His family moved to Cobourg Ont. where his father was a Policeman and became Chief of Police in Cobourg. Down the road at some point he marries Helena Fayle, pictured with him, and their youngest son Mark. They had five children, John, Charlie, Allan, Edith, and Mark. Allan Burgess joined the Army to fight in the 1st War on June 7, 1915 in Cobourg. During the war Allan was among the troops who were gassed. Any time I remember him, I remember him as a miserable old man, and although I never gave it much thought when I was young, in retrospect I guess, it was the after effects of the war. If he ever saw a fly in the house he would go on the warpath until he killed it, and would rant and rave and accuse me if I was around of letting the fly in. He seemed to have an unhealthy dislike of flies, I guess this would stand to reason if you were pinned down in trenches with dead bodies and dead animals all around unable to escape, the after effects of battle. The first time I went down to his place in Port Hope after running away from the orphanage, he got drunk and kicked me out of the house and I had to sleep in the car, in the drive way. When he did get drunk which was often, he would go around the house wildly gesticulating reciting " The Charge of the Light Brigade ". My grandmother seemed to think the world of me, I don't know if it was because I was the first grandchild, or my pleasing personality, but my grandfather seemed to think about me about as much as I thought about him. I think the old man played his children off against one another, and the Burgess trait seemed to be extreme jealousy. At some time after returning home from the war, they moved to a house on Hope St. in Port Hope right on Lake Ontario. The wave action on Lake Ontario where their house was, was eroding the bank below their house and they were afraid the house was going to be washed into the lake so, for that reason, they moved to Bridgeport Ont. a suburb of Kitchener. I guess they moved to the Kitchener area because it was a growing industrial town with many factories, and rubber plants, in fact Kitchener was known as little Akron after the rubber capital of the USA. Kitchener was where Uncle John met his first wife Beatrice, Uncle Allan met his wife Pearl, Uncle Charlie met his wife Ruth, and my father Nick, met my mother Edith Eleanor . At some time after all of this and before the outbreak of the second War they moved back to Port Hope, to a house at 107 Hope St, about a block from the CPR railroad tracks. My grandmother took care of me a couple times, I guess when mother had to go to the hospital to have Max, and Rosemary, and while I lived with them I remember riding around with the Ice Man on his horse drawn wagon while he made the deliveries. Grandfather visited with us a few times as he did with his sons, but never left his house to often, tending to his garden. Grandfather died in 1963 which would make him 73 years old.

Indian Grove 1965/66

Because our rent was increased and we were thinking of buying a house we decided to get into a bigger apartment where we could store some stuff for the house. We found a two bedroom walk up on Indian Grove near Dundas and Annette, which we got for $100.00 per month. Later this year we would go to England on vacation. We heard of a club in Toronto called the Irish Club and through them we could get a flight for about $270.00 each return for about three weeks, and decided to take it. I was doing quite well at work because overtime was running wild. Quite a few double outs, many 24 hour shifts, some 32 hour, and 40 hr, and even one time I was on duty 48 Hrs. A friend of Anne's mother, in fact her next door neighbor in East Ham, had a sister and brother in law in Canada, Rene and Bill Costello, who we had met and they were going on the flight, as well. Bill Costello had been in the Royal Navy in WW11 and was nearly deaf, on which he blamed the cannon fire. Bill was an electrician at the Hearn Generating Plant in Toronto and in fact wired our rec. room, in the basement. Rene and Bill had the odd party in their house in Scarboro, and would invite us over, and we always had a good time. They would also invite us to dinner occasionally and it was them that got us into having the occasional bottle of wine with dinner. We got into this habit at the cottage more than home though.

We went on the flight to England together but went on our separate ways when we got there, although we would meet up a couple times during our stay. We met once by chance at Pettycoat Lane a vast Sunday Market in London, and once at a wedding when Rene's nephew was getting married.

We did the usual sight seeing while in London, Buckingham Palace, The tower of London, up the Thames by boat to Hampton Court, the Palace of Henri v111, Trafalgar Square, which is the black and white picture with Anne and me and the pigeons, and the Museum at Greenwich, near which is the Cutty Sark an old Clipper Ship, which is the picture with Anne's dad Leonard John Dyke.

We had rail passes, through work, to go to Dundee in Scotland to visit with Anne's Grandmother who was in a Seniors home there, and some other relatives, as well. On our way back we made a stop off in Edin borough, and went to the Castle, which was a fine Museum as well, then back to East Ham. Rene's sister had moved to Devon in the South of England to we decided to take a bus trip there to visit them. On the bus trip the driver seemed to be going so slow and we weren't making any headway at all, in fact after about two hours I see a road sign that says London 12 Miles and knowing our journey is eighty miles am wondering if we will ever get there. An old gentleman in the seat behind us could see that I was getting antsy, and offered me a Yachting magazine to read which I took from him with thanks, but a few times I was tempted to go to the driver and tell him, I would drive if he was afraid to speed up a little. As it turns out there was something wrong with the bus and he was just nursing it along, instead of calling for a repair or another bus. Anyway we do eventually get there, and have a nice visit with the Kerr's.

The flight over was my first experience on a big plane, it was a Douglas DC8 and the flight was quite good. I had said I would never get on one but relented when Anne wanted to go so bad. When we returned home we started thinking seriously about getting a house. After coming home, we get word that Anne's brother Malcolm who worked at the Race track at Epsom Downs wanted to come over here and try to get a job here, so we said he was welcome to come and stay with us, if he did. Malcolm came over later that year, and had a contact name at the track Duke Campbell, who was a trainer for EP Taylor. As the circuit was a Ft. Erie we had to go there to contact Campbell which we did, and Malcolm got a job at Windfield Farms, on York Mills Road off Bayview working for EP Taylor. Malcolm had been a Jockey but started to grow, and grew himself out of that job, but he liked working with the horses and continued to do so, exercising, grooming and whatever else there was to do with them, short of racing, and continues to do so today.

As we figured that I would eventually wind up at MacMillan Yard at Concord, we stated to enquire about houses in the Richmond Hill area, and looked at a few. We saw one we liked which they wanted $18,500.00 for, and we offered $18,000.00 and they countered with $18,200.00 and we decided to take it, so we bought our self a house. We had been picking up the odd piece of furniture, and storing it in our extra bedroom of our apartment, but still needed a stove and refrigerator. We went to the sears outlet store and found a stove, and Rene Costello who worked for Sears got us a refrigerator with her Sears discount. We moved into 126 Talmage Ave in November 1966. The house was built in around 1954 so was about twelve years old when we moved in. Although we never gave it a thought at the time, little did we know we would still be here in 2006, now 40 years.

In the mean time my half sister Anne gets knocked up and married Bob Crane, and my other half sister Heather, is in trouble constantly, neither one would turn out to be worth anything to themselves or there families. Heather would eventually get knocked up and marry a guy named Shaw his first name I don't remember. My mother loved kids but had no idea in the world how to bring them up properly, and both girls got screwed up for life, and this will be whole other story.

Anne and Allan 1963-1964

Toronto 1963 Rosemary, my sister worked for Bryant Press, and through her I met Anne, who also worked for Bryant Press. As she was from England and hadn't been around a great deal, I decided to take her to Niagara Falls on our first date. We got on quite well, and after a short while decided to get married in 1964 giving her parents time to make arrangements to come over for the wedding. It was around this time that the new CNR Hump Yard was being built at Concord, just north of Toronto, and because of staffing requirements staffing downtown became a problem, and there started being a lot of overtime, which I took full advantage of. I was still paying off a 1963 Chevrolet Biscayne I had bought, plus we had to buy furniture, and a variety of other things. We were married in 1964, the first picture is Anne and myself with my niece Susan Arsenault in front. The second picture is at our apartment on Elm Grove with myself on the left mother Edith Gray, Leonard Dyke Anne's dad George Gray, my stepfather, Catherine Dyke, Anne's mum with Anne Gray, my half sister sitting in front. A couple of funny things happened at that apartment which was just up the street from Mother's house. One day in the winter after a snow storm I drove up a Lane way that was just under our second floor bedroom window and got slightly stuck, and when the tires started spinning under the window Anne opened it and asked if I needed any help, I told her no it would be OK and I would be up in a minute, which I was. The next day I got through OK and it was about 3AM so I sneaked into the bedroom being as quiet as I could hoping not to wake Anne, when some other guy comes in the Lane and gets stuck in the same place. I was standing in a dark corner, and knew what to expect. Anne stir rs then gets up and leans out the window, and I say Boo from within the room, she was so scared she almost jumped out the window, after stifling a scream. Another time while working the midnight shift on overtime I stepped on the edge of a tie and broke all the ligaments in my ankle, and had to be taken to the Western Hospital for ex rays. When they decided what had happened, I took a Cab home and had to go into the Apartment on my hands and knees because I couldn't walk. They had discharged me after putting a Tensor bandage on my ankle, and told me to check with my doctor the next day. I got to the apartment door and knocked on it, it was about 5 AM and Anne was hesitant to answer it because of the time but did so, and found me on my hands and knees, and was probably wondering what she had gotten herself into. While in the hospital emergency room that night I guess about 3 AM a guy comes in none the worse for wear, and looked OK to me but no visible damage. When the nurse comes in to check on him, she asked him what his problem was because she could see no obvious problem. The guy lifts his pant leg to show that his leg had severe burns and seemed to be all black and red. The nurse then asks him how he did that, and he says he spilled boiling tar on his leg. The nurse wondering what he was doing with burning tar at 3AM, says when did you do that, and he says about 5PM yesterday, startled she then says, and you took so long to come to the hospital, and he says, it hurt so bad I had to go and get a few drinks, and one led to another, but the effects of the alcohol was wearing off, and it was starting to pain him. The nurse then asks him where did this happen, and he replies, Kitchener, and the nurse goes away shaking her head saying she will get a doctor, leaving the guy starting to moan, and me there looking at him, and shaking my head, thinking, it takes all kinds. Later that year we found they were going to increase our rent from $87.00 per month, to $100.00 per month and I thought we could do better, so we started to look.

Pickerel River 1962

In March 1962 at The Sportsman's Show we bought a prefab cottage from Colonial Homes. The cabin was 18'X22' and cost $850.00, plus $250.00 for erection and $60.00 delivery, to the Marina. We had to be at the Marina when it came in to load it on the barge and tow it down the river with my 10HP Mercury. There were 5 of us to to the job. George , his friend Henry, Orville Emile, and myself. It took us almost all day as it had to be carried up a 50 embankment. When we were finished carrying up to the site, we had our prepared lunch, a few drinks and went home, after returning the barge. The two builders came up the following Monday and had the cabin built on Wednesday. We went back up the following Saturday and were very pleased with the work. We had to find a propane stove, and a propane refrigerator. I went to Superior Propane head office in Maple and bought a used converted Servel gas refrigerator, for $100.00 and a combination wood, 4 burner propane stove, for $40.00. We then had to look around for furniture but that was not a problem because a lot of people when they heard we bought a cottage were coming out of the woodwork offering us furniture not mention that George was a garbage man and picked up lots of stuff we could use that was destined for the dump anyway. The cottage lot about an acre and a half cost us $600.00, so the whole cost was about $1850.00 plus whatever we paid for the accoutrement's.

I decided that I wanted to get a bigger motor because my 10HP never pushed the fibreglass boat very well, and decided on a 25HP Mercury. I bought the 25 HP but was never satisfied the way it pushed the boat, which was a heavy boat. When talking about it George said he would give me what I had paid for it and I could put that toward a 1963, 35 HP Mercury which worked our real well. Later on in 1962 we dragged the old cottage up the hill and re-erected it and would use it as an overflow, if we had to many people for the new one or if someone wanted to come up we thought we would rent it out. When I had bought the new 25 HP motor, the dealer didn't want to give me much for a trade in so I never traded in. I had paid about 400 dollars and they wanted to give me about 50 dollars, but would charge me 25 dollars for an extra tank so I said I would keep it. A friend ad work Martin Sikora one day asked if him and a couple of his friends could use the cottage and I told him what John Warren told me 2 dollars each per day as it cost us 20 dollars for the piece of linoleum we put on the floor. I told him we wouln't rent out the new one, but if he wanted to go with me it wouldn't cost anything as we would be together.

Martin Sikora, Wally Toss who I knew from Bathurst St, and Bren Salvage came up for a weekend. I lent them my ten for a boat they rented and we went fishing all weekend Martin and myself in one boat, Wally and Bren in the other boat, and we caught lots of fish. On our way home Bren asked me if I was interested in selling the 10 and I told him I was but that the dealer had offered me only 50 dollars and that was a none starter, if I couldn't get 200 dollars for it I wouldn't sell it. Bren said that he had just bought a Scott Atwater and would have to see if he could sell it. About a month later Bren called me a said that he had sold his Scott Atwater for a loss to be able to buy my ten which he did. A while after that they again asked me if they could rent the cabin which I said they could for the 2 dollars each per day. They took me up on that and took the little cabin for the weekend. When I saw Martin later he complained about the mosquitoes and said he didn't think they should have to pay the full amount, twelve dollars, I said Martin you don't have to pay anything at all, just don't ask to use it again. A couple days later he gave me a cheque for twelve dollars, and that was it for many years, until I spoke with Wally Toss, and he shook his head and couldn't believe it, I said Wally he was cheap.

After getting the propane stove and fridge we had to have them hooked up so we got Mr. Everingham to send someone down to do it, and he sent Lyman Newton, and although I had met Lyman before, this was the beginning of a long relationship. There wasn't anyone on the river who knew more about it than Lyman. Lyman was born on the river, grew up to guide, and trap with his father at first, and then by himself, and was involved in helping to build, and take care of many of the cottages, and knew the river more than most. Lyman and his wife Doris lived in a house on a property beside the Marina, with their four kids. Rocky being the oldest, Julie, Betty, and Walter. Over the years our family and theirs grew quite close and have remained that way ever since. When we first started driving up there we had to go on a long circuitous route, Highway 400 to Barrie, 11 from Barrie to Bracebridge, 69 Bracebridge to Parry Sound, and 69 to the Pickerel with two, 15 mile gravel washboard sections between Parry Sound and Pickerel River. Was I ever glad to see the end of those two washboard sections. Eventually they connected several roads, making the route much straighter, thereby shortening the journey, and in the few couple of years it will be improved to the extent that it will be four lane all the way.

Pickerel River 1956-61

We lived at 35 Northcote Ave. for a few years. A couple months after moving in, in early winter my mother nearly burnt the house down. The kitchen of the house was actually a shed type room that had been added to the house, and had a wood cook stove in it, both for cooking and to help heat the house. My mother was boiling potatoes on it one day, and got it too hot, and the wall behind started to burn. Mother screamed and I came running, and when I saw what had happened, I took the pot of potatoes off the stove and threw it at the fire dousing it. When George comes home that day they decide to buy a new electric stove, and get rid of the wood stove. Thirty five Northcote is across from Rathbone Lumber Co, and one day it catches fire and before the fire could be put out, it scorched the paint on all the houses on the other side of the street, so about 12 houses had to be repainted. One interesting thing on Northcote Ave. was the guy a couple of houses down from us had a 1937 LaSalle 12 cylinder car and I loved that car. another was Norm Ellis next door neighbor who was a long distance driver for Loblaws and had a Ariel Square Four motorcycle which I loved, it was bright red, and would just purr like a kitten, and had more H.P. than the Volkswagen bugs that were getting pretty popular at the time. After seeing Norm's Ariel I got interested in motorcycles and bought a CZ a Chech. bike for 35 dollars and had a great time with it. Eventually like most kids I think, thought I would like to see how it looks internally, and start to take it apart, and couldn't figure out how to get it back together properly, so it sat in the basement, until a friend of mine from Kitchener Donald Becker comes down for a visit. Donald's mother was my mothers best friend, he sees the bike in the basement in pieces, and asks me if I think we can get it going, at which I say yes but I can't get the clutch working right. We start to re assemble it and take it to the lane way out behind the house. I tell him to push me and I will pop it into 2nd gear to get it going, then pop it into neutral until he gets his breath, then he can push me to get a little momentum jump on with me and I'll just ram it into gears after that. Donald pushes me we get the bike going, I kick it into neutral until he catches up with me, he pushes it again for the momentum, jumps on the back while I'm revving it up as fast as it will go, kick it in gear, it raises straight up in the air, Donald falls off on his ass in a puddle, and the bike goes crashing through a garage door, on the opposite side of the lane way, and an old man was in the garage washing his car, he looks up in stunned silence seeing his garage door lying across the hood of his new car. I had knocked the door off the hinges, and the door put a small dent in the hood of his car. When I was a paper boy I had delivered papers to a body shop and they were quite good to me, so I told the guy to go over to that shop and have the dent fixed, which he did, and the body shop never charged me for it. Donald went home after that and got very interested in motorcycles, and bought himself a 1947 Harley Davidson 74, and just about killed himself on it.
I had been hearing from guys at work about a place to go fishing, that was supposed to be pretty good, and the Canadian National Recreation Assn. [CNRA] had a Camp there, so I asked Max if he would like to check it out. We had also heard that there was a guy near the station that rented out cottages, and boats and motors. We jumped on the train from Union Station, on the eve of our next days off, using our pass, and Went to Pickerel River not knowing what to expect.
The train was the Transcontinental and left Union Station at 11:30PM. It was also what they called a Milk Train, and seemed to stop for a long time at each station along the way loading and unloading Milk and Bread and took nearly 8 hrs to go 200 miles. When we got to Pickerel River there was a guy [Willard Warren] with a small pick up truck and we ask him about the Cabins for rent and he said to see his father John in the store at the bottom of the road a couple hundred yards away. We walked down the road and went into the store and met John Warren a pretty old man who was the Postmaster as well as owning the store, we had walked through a flock of chickens, it was like going into Ma and Pa Kettles property. We went into the store, and asked John Warren about a cabin for a couple of days and he said it would be 2 dollars each per day, which we thought was a bargain, and said we would take it, and then asked him if he rented boats and motors which he did. We took a boat and motor as well. John takes us to the Cabin and shows us around we stow our stuff, and go to the dock to get the boat. Max and I put our fishing stuff in the boat and off we go down the river, looking for a good fishing spot. We were about a mile down the river on the opposite shore of where our cabin was, and I told Max I was pretty tired and would like to go back and have a lay down for an hour or so. Max says for me to go back, to the cabin, and come back and get him when I wake up. I go back and stretch out on the bed, and pas right out. I wake up with the rain beating down on the roof, and after listening to it for a few seconds jump up remembering I left Max down the river, on the opposite shore. I go to the dock, get the boat going and go down to find Max with his line still in the water with about 10 nice fish beside him. I thought he was going to be mad, but he wasn't, we loaded the fish and gear and went back and made our lunch. We liked the place so much we decided to go back at least a few more times. John Warren had a store there so we didn't even have to take anything with us but our gear. After going a few times we met Jack Millar, who had a cabin behind the store, and worked for the CNR in Toronto at the Rip Track as a Carman. Jack had a small cabin behind the store which he owned, but rented the land it was on, from the CNR. Jack told me of one of his fellow Carmen, who also owned one of the four cabins that was in a little cluster behind the store, one of which he owned, who wanted to sell. Duncan McGregor was a Carman for the CNR but had been a shipbuilder in Glasgow, He wanted to immigrate to Canada and was able to, but he also wanted his girlfriend to be able to come, but was not allowed because of health problems. Duncan decided to return to Scotland to be with her and decided to sell the Cabin. The Cabin was about 12'X18' and was divided into 3 rooms, one big room was the kitchen living room and 2 small bedrooms, and there was a small boat about a 12' moulded plywood boat, with a 5HP Mercury motor, and he wanted five hundred & seventy five dollars for it. I decided to buy it before I found out how much the rent was, and when I found out I was shocked. The rent for the land, on the piece of property where the four cabins were was ten dollars per year, and divided by 4 worked out to be two dollars and fifty cents each. I was not the proud owner of a cabin in the bush. Rosemary had met a young man Emile Arsenault who was working at Parkwood Cadilac on Yonge St., while he was laid off as a Sheet Metal Worker, and they start going out together. A while after that Rosemary and Emile decide to get married, and do so in 1958. In 1960 Rosemary gives birth to David. In the mean time George had lost his license after having an accident, and crashing into his brother in law, and for drunk driving. When George recovered his license he bought an Austin A30 from British Motors on Yonge St. and Davenport Rd. After the fire and because of the cockroaches mother and George started looking for another house, which they found at 13 Tyndall a few blocks away near the Dufferin Exhibition Gates, and bought it for $18,000.00, I could hardly comprehend that much money, they had paid $7,500.00 for 35 Northcote. 13 Tyndall Ave was a wide street with boulevards on both sides big trees and was a one way street running south from King to Springhurst, which ran along the CNR Tracks, and the north boundary of the Exhibition grounds.
The house was a wonderful house with a few pieces of furniture left by the previous owners, It was three stories with 5 bedrooms, kitchen, living room, and a huge dinning room, with beautiful wood trim throughout. The house had a fireplace in every bedroom and in the living room, although they hadn't been used for a long time. It was a quiet neighborhood, except in Exhibition time when most neighbors would park cars on their front lawns to make some money, and the neighbors were good. A couple things that weren't so good while on Tyndall was that we started getting parking tickets, something that we hadn't been getting on Northcote Ave, and we didn't have a garage on Tyndall, where we did have one on Nortcote.The other thing was that George was falling further and further into alcoholism. George wasn't physically abusive but was certainly and not to me but to mother, and it got to the point that I said to my brother if it gets much worse, I am going to do something serious to George. Mother had a couple roomers to help her defray the cost of buying the house. Gerald Parsons and Orval Gillis, Gerald Parsons was also an alcoholic, but at least a good natured drunk who would go to sleep when he got to plastered. Orval Gillis would only have the odd beer so was no bother that way, but he was an uneducated guy that came off a farm in Listowel Ont. and used to murder the English language, just like Huntz Hall of the Bowery Boys movies, the most obvious word he would murder was when referring to a septic tank, would call it a sceptic tank, which I used from time to time, and if in your presence when you would relate what you thought was a good idea, he would repeat it as though it was his idea, and he hadn't heard you. Orville was harmless though, Orville also worked with George for the Dept. of Street Cleaning.

George my stepfather was scared of boats and the water because he couldn't swim so for a while I could not convince him to go up north with me to the cottage. By this time a lot of the times going up I would drive up Highway 69 and go to Everingham's Marina just off the highway. Eventually though I convinced George to go, and perhaps it was because of my mother wanted to see the place he decided to go. At the time that he decided to go he had calmed down a little bit on his boozing, and wasn't so bad. We decide to go and ask everyone in the family who wanted to go, could go. It turned out Mother, George, Max, Rosemary who was pregnant with David, Emile, Orville, and myself went. We rented a 16ft moulded plywood boat so that all of us could go together, and used the new 10MP motor that I had just bought. When we drove we had to go nine miles down the river by boat to where the cottage was. We went down and had a great weekend, even though there were seven of us fishing out of the same boat. George went on the wagon, and took a great interest in fishing, bought himself a fishing box, pole, and reel. Mother was quite happy at that result. Mother loved to go fishing and was quite competitive while doing so especially with George, and the trouble was that she had to ask George for a lure, and one day when she asked for a particular lure, George snapped at her, for asking, and I snapped at George telling him that she should have her own box anyway. A short time later she got a new fishing tackle box. An interesting thing about George's family was that his brother Robert was a Sheriff, and had been fired for allegedly falsifying a report. The discharge was being appealed by his Union and while he was discharged he became a Chauffeur for a VP of Sears. Robert's discharge was eventually overturned, and he was awarded back time for over a year, but decided to keep his job at Sears. In the mean time the little cabin at Pickerel River was really getting well used what with us all taking some of our vacations there, lending it out to a few selected others from work, Max and his friends, and Emile and his friends. I was driving up more often because it was just a lot faster, even though I had to go 9 miles down river by boat. I could leave work at 11:30PM and be in the cabin having my breakfast when the train came in. The CNR was making it more difficult as well, as it became a flag stop, and you couldn't flag it down for a pass. What we would do is get a half fare order between Parry Sound and Pickerel River thereby having to buy a ticket, albeit half price, and that allowed us to stop the train to get off, and flag it down to get on. One day when I didn't have a car I had gone to the cottage and on the way back I was waiting and waiting and it seemed like the train would never get there. We called on the dispatchers phone to Capreal to find out what happened. It seems the southbound train was stuck on the other side of a derailment and was going to be very late, so they ordered and extra, which got to Pickerel River 3 hours late. They still had Steam at that time and that is what it was. When the train pulled in I noticed that it had a caboose on and the Conductor, Pilgrim was one I knew very well, as he would normally work 473 a freight out of Mimico, that would always lift at Bathurst St. When I got on the train, the Conductor told me to go back to the caboose, and lay down, that they would call me when we got to Union Station, I said that I wanted to stay on the Caboose and get off at Dufferin St. quite close to my house, a half block away. On our way southbound that train went as fast as any train I had been on, and in fact it was flagged down at North Magnetawan, and it got to South Magnetawan before it stopped, and had to be backed up. The train pulled into Union Station on time, a testament to both, it's normal slow schedule, and how fast we were going. At that time there were at least 25 stations between Parry Sound, and Capreal, and they all had operators, and crew, and would all be serviced at least 4 times a week. There was a mixed train, that would leave Parry Sound twice a week going north and stop at every Station, and even stop between Stations letting hunters and trappers on and off with their canoes game etc. and do the same southbound as well. There came a time in 196o when the CNR closed the Station at Pickerel River down as well as many other stations, and decided to sell the land that the cottage was on. On visiting The Sportsman's Show in Toronto on many occasions I saw a booth by the Provincial Government advertising Crown Land for sale and had been thinking about buying a piece. I asked Emile, Max, and George if they wanted to go in on a piece with me. Emile said no as they had just bought a house and that was what they had to concentrate on, and Max was going out with Hilda Graciano, and they were going to get married, but George said he would like to go halves with me. I went to the Ministry Offices at Parry Sound and told them the piece of land we were interested in, which was approximately one mile east of the CNR Bridge where we were and on the South side of the River. The Ministry people said that they had surveyed six lots approximately one mile west of the highway bridge, and wouldn't consider opening up another piece until all those lots were sold. I told George and said I would buy one of those six, and he said go ahead that he was in, as he was driving up anyways and it was much closer by boat. In early September we got in my 1951 Buick and went north to choose the lot we wanted, and as none were yet sold we had our choice of the six. On our way up just south of Parry Sound we put a rod through the pan on the Buick, and had to call Orville to come and pick us up and take us up to choose the lot, and arrange for a guy to come and take the car to the wrecker as it wasn't worth fixing. I sure loved that car though, even though it only got about 10 miles to the gallon. When Orville got there we continued on our way and when we got there went down to have a look at the lots and decided on Lot #4 as there was minimal clearing to be done, and it had a great view in three directions. I then decided to take the little cabin apart, bring it down the river until we could decide whether we would buy a new one or just add to the cabin. Emile, I and two other friends went up in early December rented the barge from Everingham and towed it down with my boat, with my 10 HP and Emile's 18 on it. We cut the roof in half and carried it to the barge in four pieces, took the two ends in one piece each, and cut the front and back walls down the middle and carried those four pieces down to the barge, and towed it up to the site. We spent the night in a tent, and it snowed that night, so we had a bit of trouble off loading the barge the next day, which we did complete, and decided that was all we could do for that year, took the barge back and went home for the winter.

35 Northcote Ave 1952-53

Max & Anne onFrancis Barnet with Austin A30 in background, and Allan and Max . While going to school I tried to find some cheap entertainment, and my mother told me of the radio programs where they would let you in to the broadcast and sometimes, take audience members as contestants for the broadcast. I told a school chum, my fellow Tuba player and we went off to see "Adam's take a chance" at CFRB on Bloor St. near Bay, Hosted by Roy Ward Dickson, who used to Host " The Fun Parade " where they would get contestants to do all sorts of crazy things. To get contestants and get the audience warmed up they would ask, the audience a preliminary set of questions, the audience members who could answer the questions could possibly be a contestant. One of the questions one time was, What is the capital of Bulgaria, and absolutely no one in the audience knew the answer, but there I was with my arm wildly waving to get their attention because I knew that one, as my father was Bulgarian, and if I never learned any thing else I knew that. They obviously didn't want a 15 year old kid on the show, but finally had to recognize me, Sofia I shout, and they acknowledge that, and my tuba playing chum was dumbfounded. They actually took more contestants than they would need as a back up, in case things went faster than they thought it would, so they could discriminate to a certain extent who could get on the show, it goes without saying that I was not chosen, but as a consolation prize I think I got a package of Adam's chewing gum. Roy Ward Dickson was actually a great speller, and could supposedly spell anything, and was ultimately turned down to be on the $64,000.00 question for spelling, and I could not say I felt bad for him, but when at the program warming up, he asked the audience to try and stump him. I got up and ask him how to spell so, and he said what one, and I said, all of them, and started, the farmer will....., his crop, and he says SOW, then I said, his wife will... his pants because they are ripped, and he says SEW, then I say so, SO, they both..................... he looks dumbfounded, and says he can't, and I stump him, thanks to Mr Dunsmore my grade 7 teacher, I have a great memory for the damnedest things. A few weeks after coming to Toronto, the Childrens Aid society comes to the house as a result of a complaint by my father, asking did I want to stay or go back, and as I believed there was no going back I decided to stay, and there was no further contact with my father for some time.
My stepfather George was a garbage man for, The City of Toronto, and while at school every now and then, if they wanted to finish their beat fast, they would ask me to drive the truck so the three of them could throw the garbage on the truck. I had never driven anything in my life so, there I was driving a big garbage truck down narrow streets with cars parked on both sides , thinking I better get a drivers licence.
A short time after leaving school in March 1953, my mother told me, I was going to have to get a job, which I had every intention of doing anyway. I was looking in the ads. in the papers to see what there was available. I also made enquiries about apprentices, for either motor mechanics, or electrician which I also liked, but it seemed you had to have an in to get one or know someone. I noticed an ad in the paper for a delivery boy for Posen & Furrie dental labs, at Brunswick Ave, and College St. and applied for the job, one reason being they said they would teach me about the actuall work of making the teeth. I was a very naive 15 year old and took them at their word, so there I was earning $25.00 per week and turning $15.00 over to my mother for board. I went all over the city with my Raleigh 3 speed, delivering false teeth to dentist's offices, for a couple months, with absolutely no indication they were going to teach me anything, maybe I was a little impatient. I kept my eyes open, and started looking for another job. The only thing of note that happened while I was working at Posen & Furrie, was when I was delivering some false teeth to a dentist's office at College and Yonge St. I bumped into Barbara Ann Scott. One of the presents given to my sister Rosemary by my mother was a Barbara Ann Scott Doll, every girl at the time wanted one.

My mother had her faults, and they were many, but one thing no one could say about her was that she was lazy. She was perhaps one of the most ambitious person I ever knew, and if her personal choices would have been better she could have been a millionaire. Mother baby sat children, and did homework, which consisted of gathering up pieces of glider aircraft, and putting them in little envelopes for Gregg Model Aircraft. She also would insert the strings in kites, and roll them up with 2 sticks for the same firm. Mother also worked for Copp Clarke Publishing, getting big boxes of Christmas seals and putting a variety in little packages, for sale at Christmas time. Mother was always doing something to make a buck. As ambitious as my mother was, George my stepfather was the opposite, he was one of the laziest people I have ever met in my life. George was also a boozer an alcoholic, and a drunk. When I first met him and for a while he was on his best behavior, so I never saw this side of him for a while, until when he fell off the wagon. George would also from time to time tell me of the hard time my mother got from the Nuns, at St Michael's Hospital where she had, had Heather my half sister, and I would wonder why is he telling me this stuff.

After working at Posen and Furrie for a few months I started getting impatient because there was no indication the were ever going to teach me anything all they wanted out of me was to be a good delivery boy. One day I noticed an ad in the paper for a delivery boy, who would like to learn the printing trade, so I applied, and got the job working for The University of Toronto Press. I was earning the same money but with hopes of learning something new. I was delivering manuscripts, and a variety of printing related materials around the University, the advantage I guess was that I didn't have to go far. After being there a few months I started getting impatient again, and complaining at home because there was no indication they were going to teach me anything. Mother said why don't you go and apply for a job with the CPR, where your Great Uncle works. John Fayle, my grandmother's brother was a carman for the CPR at the Parkdale Yard. I went down to Union Station and applied a couple times to no avail. While delivering something to the Museum on Avenue Rd. one day I bumped into my old English teacher from Central Tech. outside the Museum, on the steps, he looks at me and says, what happened to you, I give him the readers digest version and he says that's to bad, you were my best student, I'm thinking this is the first time anyone had ever said anything like that to me. In the mean time its July or August and my mother is asking me, why don't I go to Waterloo and get my brother and sister, which I agree was probably a good idea. I head off to Waterloo to get Max and Rosemary, and when I get there Max is gone to Camp at Paradise Lake, and Rosemary is preparing to go when Max comes back. I tell Rosemary to go and pack all the things she cares about, and that we will go to Toronto to live from now on, if she likes, and off we go, my knowing full well that the Childrens Aid Society will be visiting her and asking the same questions the had asked me.

A short time later I went down to Union Station to see if there was anything going on at the CPR, which there wasn't, and I noticed that the CNR Employment Office was across the hall so I decided to try there. The CNR guys asked me if I had a bicycle, which I said I did, and they said they needed a Call Boy and told me what the position required, and that I would be working at 18th St in Mimico, at $35.00 per week already a ten dollar increase, so I didn't hesitate, I said I would take it, not realizing, that I would be there for 40 years, and started the job on Sept 15/1953. I loved the job from day 1 and felt totally at ease there. A hell of a lot of stuff happened to me, and because of me, while I was with the CNR, and as an aside, I started a Blog about mostly funny stuff, that happened on the CNR, the site being http://cnr-and-assorted-funnies.blodspot.com/ so I won't go into a lot of detail about my time with the CNR, because I have already done it on that Blog, but I will mention the CNR from time to time, to try and put things in some sort of context. It turned out that I didn't really need a bicycle and could walk everywhere, and If I had I would have been tired out by the time I got to Mimico. I worked the Call Boy job for a couple of months, and while doing so had many people advise me to take a T.V. and I wondered what the hell they were talking about, and it took a month for me to find out that a T.V. was a temporary vacancy, when someone went on holidays or was on some other T.V. I had thought they were somehow referring to television, after a few months as a Call Boy I bid in and got an afternoon Car Checker job with another ten dollar a week raise, I thought I was sailing. Almost no one had television at that time but it seemed shortly after that television broke out, and it seemed like everyone on the street got one at the same time. The T.V.s were sold by the Hardware Store at the corner of Northcote and Queen St's. were 17 inch RCA, for $475.00, plus $35.00, for the antenna to be installed on the roof. The house was an old house with herds of cockroaches, and every time we put powder down for them they seemed to move next door, and when he got tired of them and put something down, they would move back.
It was early September when they moved in and it turned out George knew, or seemed to know nothing about coal furnaces, so because of my experience with furnaces was elected to take care of it in the winter time. What I found surprising, was that the coal had to be carried through the house to the basement in 100 lbs bags, there was no coal chute as there had been in the house I took care of the furnace for.

That fall, of 1953 Rosemary started school at Alexander Muir Public School on Gladstone Ave. not far away, and later on in early winter I went back to Waterloo to get my brother Max, and when I arrived at the home was told that he didn't live there any more that my father had anticipated just that sort of thing and took him to Kitchener to live with him in his room. I ask one of the kids if he knew the school that Max was attending and he told me Victoria School, and seeing it was lunch time and the school was not far from the CNR station I decided to go to the school for the afternoon recess, and see if he wanted to come back with me. I went to Victoria School and found him at recess and told him if he wanted he could come back with me, but that it would have to be right now. Max agreed that it was best he come with me and off we went, him not going back into class after recess.

I guess I should say that any time we were with our father, and spoke of her, mother was to blame for all our troubles, and any time we were with our mother, father was to blame for all our problems, but I knew instinctively that we would be better off with our mother, although in retrospect, not much. My mother was constantly making bad choices, and decisions, and as it would later turn out, was really exploiting us, and not that we were physically abused by her, we weren't but, she wanted us to get out and get a job and start paying room and board, and the value of an education meant nothing to her, or our father, or stepfather.
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I worked out at Mimico for about 10 months, and saw an afternoon car checker job come up for bid at Bathurst St. and bid it in. I was the successful applicant for the 4:30 PM to 12:30 AM Car Checker job, and people started telling me you'll be sorry, and asked if I ever worked with Bobby May which I had, because he was on midnights at Mimico, and again I wondered what the hell that had to do with anything. Bathurst St was a lot closer, and it would take only 30 minutes on the streetcar if I had good connections. When I got to Bathurst St. I found out what the guys were talking about when they referred to Bobby May, Bobby May at Bathurst St. was 55 years old and the uncle of the Bobby May at Mimico. Bobby May at Bathurst St was a little off putting at first, because he was leery of new guys, but I was a fast learner down there, and grew to consider all of the Bathurst St guys my friends. Bathurst St was actually the main hub of Toronto proper and was a very busy place, what with the Coach Yard making up passenger trains. Passenger trains coming from and going to Union Station, the CPR running trains to their shed, all kinds of Transfers running around, as well as main line lifts, going through the yard.

A while after starting Central Technical School, Max decided that he wanted to quit school, and got a job as a Telegraph Boy, with the CNR Telegraph, but in his spare time he would come down to Bathurst St with me, and I taught him the job of Car Checker. Max subsequently asked to be transferred to Transportation in Toronto and became a Car Checker. One day my mother is talking about us getting a new sibling, and for a while I wonder what she is saying, and after a while I get to the bottom of it. It seems the daughter of one of her friends in Cobourg is pregnant and about to become an unwed mother, and the girl's mother ask my mother if she would like the child. My mother agrees, and the two mothers agree that the girl can come and live with my mother, until the baby is to be born, and then she can check into the hospital, using my mothers name and have the child, and when she comes out, rest a few days, then leave the baby, and go back to Cobourg. I'm thinking there is something wrong here, but am in no place to do anything about it. The girl comes down from Cobourg, checks into the Hospital under the name of Edith Gray, and has a bouncing baby girl, who is about to be called Heather.

My mother from time to time in one of her melancholy moods would reminisce, about the triplets she had lost at childbirth, but I was beginning to figure out, that my mother never let the truth get in the way of a good story, so I took this stuff with a grain of salt. Eventually when my sister Rosemary reached 17 years old she was encouraged to quit school and get a job. Rosemary got a pretty good job as a Book Binder at Bryant Press near Spadina and Adelaide St's. and stayed there her whole working life retiring from that job.

My relatives were real characters, and bare to be told about. My Grandfather, retired and disabled because of a mustard gas attack in WW1, was an alcoholic and a drunk, and used to go around the house reciting The Charge of the light Brigade, in truth his problems in part probably stemmed from his wartime experience, but to a young kid who, he seemed to be always mean to, that was no excuse. My Grandmother was a non drinker, and non smoker and thought the Sun rose and set on me, but was always overshadowed by my Grandfather. I had 4 uncles 3 of whom saw action in WW11, two of whom were wounded, all of whom were alcoholics, , and one got out unscathed, physically at least. Uncle John was the oldest of the brothers, and was wounded in Italy. Uncle Mark was the youngest and wounded in Belgium. Uncle Charlie got through unscathed, and Uncle Allan William Bentley Burgess, couldn't get in the army because he had flat feet. I often wonder if the reason he couldn't get in the army for to 2nd war was the reason he was such a mean drunk. When Benny[ Bentley] was sober he was the most gentlemanly character you would meet, and the best looking Burgess, a real ladies man. He was married to my Aunt Pearl, a living doll, and one of those women you see from time to time who in her 80's, still looks great. Sadly she had to divorce him because of his alcoholism. Uncle Charlie was killed in a car accident on his way to visit his mother in Port Hope, he had made it through the war and was killed on the 401, on his way to port Hope Ont. Uncle Charlie was married to Ruth Hartleib from Waterloo Ont. and her brother Dennis went to school with us, and was about a year younger. Dennis went most of the way through school with us and was our friend without our realizing he was actually related to us. We did find out eventually because we went to his house across the street from the school, and his parents told us.

Central Technical School

As it was late August or early September when I came to Toronto, I was going to have to register to go to school, and the school I had to register for was Central Technical School, and so off I Parkdale, which meant, I had to board the Queen St. streetcar eastbound to Bathurst St. and the Bathurst St. streetcar north to Harbord St. where Central Tech was. Going to school each morning this was was an adventure itself, what with the crowded streetcars, people trying to get in the middle doors to save paying, pushing and shoving to the rear of the car. The school itself was imposing, a huge square building with a hallway around the building, that was a quarter mile long, which might not have been big by Toronto standards, but it sure seemed big to me. Central Tech. also had a big swimming pool, a rifle range, and several gyms. I took English, Geography, Motor Mechanics, Woodworking, Mathematics, History, and Music, which I was surprised at because the only music we had at Elizabeth Ziegler was singing. I don't remember many of the teachers names, but I do remember a couple who will stick in my mind for obvious reasons. The first one I remember was Mr Graham, the English teacher, he was a Zoot suiter, and always dressed the part, with drape pants, with a big chain draped from the belt, and bright red oxblood shoes, and a wide short tie, he was a sight to behold. Another teacher I remember was Mr Satterwhite, who was close, but not quite there, to looking like one of my old teachers from Elizabeth Ziegler, as could be, conservative. There was Mr. Armstrong who was the Gym teacher and must have been 6ft. 4 in. and while changing classrooms en masse one day and talking while doing so, I was driven flying by a great slap on the back of my head by Mr. Armstrong, who said what the hell are you talking for. I was shocked, not by the hit on my head but that he had swore. I had the impression that my teachers in Elizabeth Ziegler, wouldn't have said shit, if they had a mouthful, and that wasn't an aberration, there was a lot of swearing going on by the teachers. The last teacher whose name I remember was Mr Watson the music teacher, who I think was very talented, but had his own problems. At the time there was a new movie come out " Blackboard Jungle" and while the school wasn't that bad I, thought at the time it was. I don't think there were gangs, as much as cliques, a subtle but important difference. No one in my time at Central Tech. ever bothered me, and I don't know why, but many years later friend of mine says I scare people because of my looks, that I'm naturally, off putting, I guess, as I have said in the past, I had an explosive temper but no one at Central ever experienced that except Mr Watson our music teacher.

I began to understand the standards at Elizabeth Ziegler were higher when attending my first woodworking class, taught by Mr Satterwhite. He gave us the plans for a 3 tier nick-knack shelf to be made, told us it was going to cost 2 dollars for the material, and sent us on our way telling us to come to him if we needed any help. I set about cutting out the pieces out and putting it together, it was a well equipped shop, and when it was finished later in the period, went to him , and asked for the varnish, to finish off the piece. He stood there agape for a while with his mouth open, and said, what are you going to do for the next three weeks. In other words it seems that was the amount of time they allowed for this project to be finished by the class. This project was one that we would have done in grade 6 at Elizabeth Ziegler, which was an early clue as to the standards of my old school. I said I don't know he gave me the varnish next period, and I finished the thing. I subsequently found out that unlike Waterloo, most Public Schools in Toronto never taught shop. The next week after finishing my project and getting bored, I had to think of something to do while waiting for the rest of the class to catch up. At the time those large foam rubber dice that hang from the rear view mirrors were very popular, and I thought that I would make a pair using a piece of scrap 4X4 lying around, so I cut it out drilled the dots, for the numbers, in preparation of painting them white, and the dots black, I was in the back corner of the room with another couple students who liked what I did, and then rolled them, as Mr Satterwhite comes around the corner, and accuses me of gambling, and sends me to the Vice Principal's Office, for gambling in class.

When we went to Mr. Watson's music class he told us all to determine what instrument we would like to play, and when he gets to me he asks what I wanted, and I said the trumpet, and he says, your playing the Tuba, I was a little disappointed but not entirely put off, at least to quite yet. I actuall liked the music class, as I love music and in the beginning thought, this guy will never make this thing fly, what group of losers. Mr Watson calls me aside one day and says I am going to have to take the Tuba home and practise, at which I say, are you for real, do you know how much trouble it is to get on the streetcar myself in the morning, never mind carrying a Tuba. Mr Watson insists and I tell him I won't do it. We carry on with our classes and one day a while later he comes to me again, and tells me I am going to have to take the Tuba home to practise. After a long discussion I relent, and take the Tuba home. Going home was not bad, as it is not really rush hour, but the next day coming back was a nightmare, with a Tuba on those overcrowded streetcars. I did make it back the next day, and when I returned to class Mr Watson says that I am going to have to take it home a few times a week from then on, at which I said no way I will not be taking it home again, and this is in front of the class who are all listening, Mr Watson becomes more insistent, and I become exasperated, still angry at having to carry that thing back on the crowded streetcar, and yell out to him, "YOU CAN SHOVE THAT TUBA UP YOUR ASS, SIDEWAYS". Mr. Watson then tells me to report to the Vice Principal's office, which I do, and am told, I am put on warning. I report back to Mr Watsons class and he tells me I won't be passing music if I don't take the Tuba home, at which I said, so be it, he took the Tuba away and from then on I just sat in the class and listened. One of the other kids in the class was Grant H. who lived not far from me and had a little job of changing the Marquee at the little show in the neighborhood the Avon, we became friends, and I could get in the Avon free from time to time. A year after leaving school, I met Grant and he told me that Mr Watson had been fired for fooling around with the girls. However I will say that Mr Watson did what I thought was impossible, making great music with that bunch of what I thought were losers.

The Geography Class had a dreamer, and schemer, for a teacher and seemed to always be trying to pull other teachers into get rich quick schemes, he seemed to be always scheming and was out of the classroom more than he was in. I liked Geography and was quite good at it, and got bored quite fast, as this teacher was learning, or not, how to get rich, more than he was teaching history. The classroom was on the third floor of the school, and at becoming bored one day with the teacher out of the room, I started making paper airplanes and throwing them out the window at the football team in the field below. The teacher enters the room as I launch one of my planes, and on seeing me, tells me to go to the Vice Principal's Office, now I didn't expect a medal for my airplane design, but being sent to the Vice Principal's office was not something I had thought of.
I go to the Vice Principal's office, and he says to me I see a pattern emerging here, dismisses me and off I go.

All of the boys at school were expected to be in the reserves, and were in fact issued uniforms while there. We had target practise in the rifle range at the school and were expected to go to various year, which I did. We went one time to an Armoury in Aurora and were given the In's and outs about Tanks, as well as being drilled. Another time we went to Niagara on the Lake Military Range, where we fired BREN Guns, and Lee Enfield 303's, which I loved. We also went to the range at Lakefield, which was at Port Credit, and a place I would subsequently have and adventure. I did like the reserves though, I guess because they had all the toys.

I get through the fist semester with no further trips to the Vice Principal's office, and we are well on our way into the second semester, and in fact are almost through it, and I am bored, and getting gentle hints from my mother, why don't you get a job, if your bored. We are into the exams for the second semester, and we are assigned to do them in a physics, room with electric outlets on all of the desks. The outlet on the desk where I am sitting has exposed wires because the Bakelite on the receptacle was broken. I finish the exam we were taking, with everyone quiet, and the teacher overseeing us reading a paper, with his feet up on the desk, kind of teetering back as one does in that position. I was fiddling with the broken receptacle with the metal end of my fountain pen, when all of a sudden, a giant flash, a big bang, the teacher flies backward, and the end of my pen is gone, and all the lights in the school are off. When the teacher determines it was me that caused the problem, he sends me to the Vice Principal's Office, telling the Vice Principal, he thought I was trying to kill myself. I found it hard to believe that a small fountain pen could cause that much of a problem. I didn't expect to be given a medal for finding a flaw in the electrical system of the school, and wasn't entirely surprised when the Vice Principal said, perhaps there is something else you would rather be doing, and I said it's funny you should say that, I was just talking about that at home. I had to get my mother's written permission, take some night school classes, which I never did and there I was out of school at 15 years old. The end of my formal schooling.

Elizabeth Ziegler 75th Aniversary Oct 14/2006

The first picture front row left to right ? ? ? Miss McKenzie 4th grade teacher Barbara Geisel Rosemary Miloff ?. Far right second Row Dennis Hartleib, the rest unknown.

Second picture first row ? ? ? Jean Geisel, Irvin Beare, Allan Miloff ? the rest unknown. If anyone can fill in any of the blancs please let me know Allan Miloff

Grade 8 Elizabeth Ziegler 1951-52

One of the little diversions in the summer before school went out and the late summer after school went in was the
Yo-Yo man from Cherrio, the company who made the Yo-Yo's. He would teach us how to do tricks with the Yo-Yo, and when we perfected them he would give us a badge. I had earned several badges and badges were the only awards given out at that time as far as I know. I had badges from School, badges from Camp, and badges from Cherrio. and was especially proud of them.

Mr MacGregor was especially proud of the choir, which won a few citations during my time in it. One of the songs I never forgot, and the choir sang great was " Do ya ken John Peel" and we sang it in a competition at K.C.I. Kitchener Collegiate Institute, which should have been my next school, but it wasn't to be

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In the Waterloo Chronicle Jan 11/1952

Name new school in honour of CJ MacGregor.

Waterloo's new $450.000.00 school being built to replace the century old school Central School will be known as MacGregor School in honour of CJ MacGregor, veteran Waterloo Principal. Mr.MacGregor has taught school for 41 years, of which 33 years have been in Waterloo. He is the Principal of Elizabeth Ziegler School and supervising Principal of the three Waterloo Public Schools. Prior to becoming Principal at Elizabeth Ziegler in 1931 he was the Principal at Alexander School.
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I did get the strap from Mr MacGregor once, and for something I didn't even do. I was in the basement of the school with a clicker, which I was using to full advantage. Because of the echo in those large rooms I was making a very loud noise with it. Mr MacGregor came down and told me to stop making the noise, and turned and started to leave when it was done again, but not by me but some other kid who had heard him tell me off and had one of the clickers and did it from the safety of the toilet stall. Mr. MacGregor turns and takes me by the arm to the cloak room of his office and administers the strap. He would have no part of me explaining that it wasn't me, but the way he administers the punishment, told me his heart wasn't in it anyway, and beside I owed him a few more for the pranks they never caught me at.

When I got to be 13 years old I did in retrospect what turned out to be a very foolish thing, I offered to help my father in his shoe shine business. It wasn't at all altruistic but to earn a little spending money.

My father ran the Shoe Shine business in the Walper Hotel in Kitchener, which at the time was owned by Mr. Joseph Zuber. I started helping him out on Saturdays from noon to 6PM when he closed. But in a short time I was going after school and helping out each night until 8PM, thereby missing out on a lot of extracurricular school activities, which eventually made me resent having to go and help out, because he really got to depend on me being there.

Seeing as I was missing out on those extracurricular activities, and did have some spending money I would go to the show when I finished work. Because there was a curfew for 11PM, I would have to get some adult to buy my ticket for me which was never a problem, I would give them the money and they would purchase the ticket as if we were together. Because most of the shows had 2 features 3 cartons, and a newsreel, we wouldn't usually get out until midnight, and by then the buss es had stopped running and I would have to walk home from Kitchener. I would walk home the best way of doing so, to avoid the police. The police did actually stop me a few times, but when they asked me what I was doing and where I was going they let me go, and I was 13 at the time. It was actually funny because my buddy Irvin's brother who was 4 years older than me was actuall thrown in jail for the night, but he was a Zoot Suiter and I suppose tried to give the cops a hard time.

When I started coming in late Miss Dankert would actually give me a hard time, and tell me off, and she actually got after my father, but as long as I kept helping him he didn't care. Miss Dankert got exasperated with me and started locking the house right down to teach me a lesson, I would have to knock or stay out all night. It wouldn't work on me there were just to many ways to get in. I started going up the fire escape to my sisters room knock on the window and she would let me in that way, if that didn't work, I would go up the fire escape to my brother's room and he would let me in that way. One day when I got in the back door, because it was left open, I was sneaking up the back stairs which I would have to say were quite creaky, and I was on the second floor apposite Karen Constable's [the cook] room when I heard a door down the hall and quick footsteps heading for the washroom opposite Karen's bedroom, and the steps were so fast I couldn't get out of the way in time, and as the figure came around the corner I shouted, BOO, and Jessie a new, helper at the home, screamed and went running down the hall her kimono flying as she went, like a Banshee was on her tail, after turning in surprise there was Karen looking at me motioning for me to go up the back way as quiet as possible, which I did, and jumped into bed with all my clothes on, blankets pulled up to my chin, the women came around and tried to determined what had happened, I wiped my eyes asking what was going on, as did all the other kids in the room, the women left, and nothing more was said. I wonder some time if Karen ever told them what happened and they had a good laugh. Some time later I was locked out pretty good and the only way I could get in was through a skylight in the roof that, I would have to drop through on to the floor of the attic right next to our bedroom. I got up on the roof and opened the sky light which would be held open by a piece of flat steel with holes in it which was graduated to allow the window to be held open at various levels. I opened the window at the widest and began to lower myself through as far as I could before dropping about 5 ft to the floor when my back hit the rod, allowing the window to come crashing down, on my fingers as I was dropping down. The window crashed down on my finger tips, I let out a loud yell, and fell to the floor, I picked myself up and ran to the bed and cover myself with the blankets, while the women ran around trying to determine what had happened, They must have began to believe the place was haunted.

Some time if there wasn't a show on that I wanted to see I would get home about 8:30 supper would have been over but there was usually something left that I would prepare for myself. One of the things I really liked was fried hot peppers an appreciation picked up from my father, and because they would never have them at the home I would pick up some from a grocery store on the way home. I would begin to fry them and as anyone knows if you fry hot peppers to fast they make fumes that are not unlike mustard gas, and everyone in the home would be coughing and hacking with their eyes watering while I would be enjoying my sandwich, and more than once did one of the women admonish my sister by saying , your brothers at it again. At some point in time it became Max's job and mine to pare the potatoes for supper. We would peel a 6 quart basket which was about half of what was needed and Miss Dankert would gripe about it all the time. One day the women all went out to the First Baptist Church for a meeting leaving me alone with all the kids, and by this time I was the oldest in the home, at 14 yrs, and I pressed everyone in the place, that could safely handle a paring knife, or potato peeler, and we, they peeled and must have peeled 100 lbs. of them and put them in cold water before the women came back. When they returned, they thought that someone had left a donation and couldn't believe their good fortune. I was told that the boys didn't consider themselves made until they had gotten the strap over their hands without crying out loud, but I don't remember of any real corporal punishment there, although if you upset someone they weren't beyond cuffing you on the side of the head, or as one of the women would do twist your ear. I don't remember getting the strap, but find it hard to believe under the circumstances I didn't so it could not have been to impressive. I do know that anything done there could not approach what my father was capable of to me and my brother and to a lesser extent, my sister.

On Sept 17/49 while helping my father at the Walper Hotel one of his friends come in excitedly telling him of a big fire in Toronto, and that they were all going to Toronto to check it out and wanted to know if my father wanted to go with them, he immediately closed the stand and said he was going, I begged him, to go with them but to no avail, and Off they went to Toronto to see the Noronic that had burned that night killing over 100 people.

In late summer we would visit all the drug stores and insurance companies to collect blotters for when we started school in the fall, and there would be a sort of competition to see who could get the most, and the best. . In the late fall we would do the same and get calenders, and the favourite one to get was from a Drug store on King St near Erb St. that would have the weather forecast for the next year, out of the Farmers Almanac we were told.

In early August of 1952 my father asks me how would I like to go fishing to Honey Harbour, with a friend of his who owned The Queens Hotel in Ayr Ont. John Dimitroff, and I said sure. John tells my father he would have to buy me a fishing pole and reel. My father wasn't to thrilled at this prospect but John said that he would go halves with my father. Part of the Walper Hotel was a magazine and sporting goods store so that is where they got the pole and reel, and it cost $20.00 which was probably the most money my father ever spent on me and his share was $10.00. I had to tell Miss Dankert because I would be gone for a couple days, so my father calls and tells her what is happening, and that weekend off I go. John had a Nash and there were two other cars, so we had a convoy to Honey Harbour, father than I had ever been, or thought I would ever go. We had a great time John Bankhoff another of my fathers friends was there as well. After the weekend we went back and I told everyone of the grand time I had.

I had only been home a few days when my mother called from Toronto asking if I would like to come to Toronto and go the the CNE, Canadian National Exhibition, every school kid in Ontario each year upon completing their school year would be given a free ticket to the CNE, and I had for the previous 6 years, and used to whine why do they give these out when there is no chance we will ever get there, and likely we threw them out as soon as getting them. My mother says she will buy my ticket for the train, I will just have to pick it up at the Kitchener station, jump on the train and her and her new husband George will meet me at Parkdale station in Toronto and we will go to the CNE and I could return the next day. I only had to think about it for a few minutes, wondering how I was going to do it, and then it occurred to me, I told her yes, what day and when I would go, and that she could meet me. It was fortuitous, I told Miss Dankert that I would be going back to Honey Harbour again that weekend, made an excuse why I couldn't help my father that weekend, and the plan was in motion.

I jumped on the train, which in itself was a wonderful experience, and went to Toronto, without knowing that it was the beginning of the end of my life in Kitchener-Waterloo, the twin cities. My mother lived in a 3rd floor walk up at 1401 Queen St West in Parkdale a western section of Toronto, not far from a huge amusement park on Lake Ontario called Sunnyside. She took me to her apartment and said we would go to the CNE the next day. The next day we got up and went to the CNE, my stepfather seemed like a nice guy, and in all I think they spent about $50.00 which was an eye opener to me, I had a hell of a job just getting my father to buy a pair of shoes for me or my siblings. In fact my mother would always remember to send us parcels at Christmas time with lots of candy and a present. We watched planes bomb targets in the lake and machine gun other targets in the lake, it was all very exciting. After all the excitement we went back to the apartment, all the way back to the apartment, and the rest of my time there, my mother and George were trying to convince me to come to Toronto. I returned to Kitchener and thought about it for a while and a couple of days later when my mother called, I said I would come to Toronto. I had been impressed by all the money that was spent on the CNE, and I was at a time in my life that I was thinking about what I would be doing in a couple years, and I knew that I didn't want to be shining shoes for the rest of my life. My mother subsequently called asked me what I was going to do, and when I told her I would be coming down she said she would arrange for the ticket, and had some more information for me, she said I had a new sister and that they had moved to 35 Northcote Ave across from the Parkdale Station. I am 14 yrs old at the time and know almost nothing about pregnancies and such so I just took her word that she had had the baby. The day before going I told Rosemary and Max, what I was going to do and swore them to secrecy until after I had left. I also told them that I would keep in touch, and to think about what I was doing, and consider themselves in the future.
The next day I packed up my meager belongings in a paper shopping bag and off to the Kitchener CNR Train Station, and a whole new adventure.

When I get to Toronto I am greeted by my mother, my new stepfather George and my new half sister Anne, who was only days old. There is something wrong with this scene, but what I don't quite know. It will become clear in a few years though.