Except for a few months, I lived the first eighteen years of my life across the road from Georgian Bay at the edge of a small town built at the mouth of a river, a town called Meaford. Among its amusements were three bridges, a swimming hole, rock bass, fishing boats, an apple house, a woolen mill, an old dam, a stone dock, a lighthouse, a suicide hill, river trails, The Sisters*, the clay banks, ball teams, hockey teams, pool halls, soda fountains, a movie theatre, a library, a market square, auction sales, band concerts, dances, fall fairs, a downtown-Saturday-night, no computers and, for the most part, no television. Few are so fortunate. (*a favourite stretch of beach, named for the two big rocks offshore)
Fishing had
never been better
and Meaford was boasting the world’s largest fresh-water fishing fleet.
Early photo of Laurel
and Hardy—or so I always think of it. Laurel, in fact,
is me. Hardy is Doug Anderson. Behind Doug,
are his parents, Paul and Pearl, and beside them,
Paul’s father, Hugh.
Doug’s cousin, Jamie
Hepple (striped toque),
lived just up the street.
Of the partiers below, I can identify only three by name—Vivian Snell, tucked in behind, and my next-door neighbours, Joan and Lois McAfee, who are second and third from the left. I’m front right. The other three
boys, I think, are Junipers.
... was somewhere in western Canada maneuvering a large yellow Cadillac through Indian territory.
Mom waited tables
for most of her adult
life, for many years
in the Rainbow Room
in Niagara Falls, but
mostly in Toronto.
Her visits to Meaford
were big occasions.
She was attractive and stylishly-dressed—a
big-city woman—and
I loved showing her off
to my friends. Only
in recent years did
I learn she was gay.
I hadn’t suspected it
but wasn’t surprised.
When she learned,
I’ll never know.
Penny Sturgeon and I (from the right) are celebrating our first birthday. I remember Penny only by name and circumstance—she was the doctor’s daughter and we were born just hours apart on the same day. The other two, Cynthia Bennett and Jim Gower, would be my classmates from grade one through thirteen. (Trowbridge Street, Meaford, July 24, 1941)
My parents’ marriage was short-lived. I don’t recall meeting my father till I was a teenager. We stayed in touch after that, but less and less.
They married in Nov 1943
and I was the best man.
Gram and Hugh did the parenting.
Meanwhile, my mother's father, Bert, had remarried and with Ernice by his side ...
visits
With Jamie Hepple & Ronald Noble.
with Gram
Mom and I
For reasons
unknown, Hugh changed the name of his boat from Juanita to Wahneeta.
Between the cabins and next to the creek were a rope swing, a pile of sand, and a hammock.
Chores were plentiful, dress was casual,
and Lois and Joan McAfee lived right next door.
