EPISODE 85 UNDERGROUND AT ELLIOT LAKE PART 2, MAYH 1960

MINING CAGES

THIS mining cage in England…Cornwall…was a luxury when compared to the shaky ladders

of Knockmahon.   Even so, this mining cage was dangerous…if the cable  broke, the men were

doomed.  

The  term ‘cage’ will occur  again and again in the next few Episodes.   Mining cages delivered miners

quickly to the ore faces.   At Bunmahon, in Ireland, we discovered

shafts but there never were any cages.  Meaning that the miners had to climb down

800 to 900 metres  on a series of wooden ladders.  And they did so in the dark.

Can.Met.  was a modern mine.  it had all the benefits of  electricity, modern machinery like bull dozers and Scoop

trucks,  power drills, lots of  dynamite…and some union protection.  

  On May 14, 1960,” waiting for us was a ‘Scoop”…sort of  a spliced dump truck and bulldozer. We piled into

“She’s the last vehicle below,” greeted Harry MacGinnis who would be our escort through the

darkness.   Most mechanical aspects of the mine had already been withdrawn including

the electric light system.  The mine was not a  pretty sight below ground as the walls

were dirty and  sticky…black from the dust of blasting and sticky from the black smoke

of vehicles like our Scoop Mobile.

We  did 293 determinations today using the Ronka.  When  our miners lights are turned off

the  darkness is  absolute.  A  blackness that only a miner would understand.   Ventillation 

is a problem as is radiation which stands at 292 when  the normal human toleration is 100.

 We would  only be here a  few  days though.  Regular miners spent years here.

Geologist John Hogan is down  here represents Dennison Mines.  Wh am  I down  here?  Hard

to know.  My job is to get as much information using the Ronka as  possible.  This  information

has  no possible use for the mine can never  be reopened as  the pillars were

pulled when the stopes  were abandoned.   Pillars were made by cutting around natural

rock… pillars then sculpted  Pillars contained.

of high grade ore so were recovered as the last part of a stope.  Occasionally we would  hear a great dull ‘whump’

where part of the mine ceiling collapsed.  No pillars left to hold up the roof.

  At the same  time the roof was collapsing, Can Met mine  was filling with

water.  Sometimes we had  to wade  through low points.  Eventually the whole mine wll be

flooded but right now it is explorable…barely.  So why am I down here?  I have no idea.

For the past 60 years I have wondered why we did this job in an abandoned

and collapsing Uranium mine.  I have no answer.  Were  we  testing the Ronka.

  Or were we testing the instrument man before he went to Ireland.  Not likely the

Harry loved to tell stories about mining in general and Can. Met. in particular.  Amusing  barely

believable stories perhaps with a kernel of truth or perhaps fully factual.  I remember

his stories to this day.  My journal confirmed my memory.

If I might make  light of the job, I could say we were down there just so Harry MacGinnis

would have  an opportunity to entertain us…otherwise he would be all alone.   The last man out,

as  it were.   Here are some of his  stories…outlandish…maybe true…maybe partly true…maybe

invented through hearsay.  All of them a  bit unsettling.

1) “A lot of dead  men down here…some still  under the rock falls.  We call the big blocks

that fell “Portuguesers” because  some of the men under those boulders were Portuguese

immigrants”   Between  1955 and  1996 when the last mine closed at Elliot Lake more than 130 men were

fatally injured.  As to the truth of Harry’s stories I  am not sure.   He had lots  of stories.

2)  “You know how you can tell that a mine is good…about to open up and hire miners?”

“No idea.”

“Hookers arrive.   If the hookers  arrive then the mine is good for sure.”

3) “To get a job as a waitress with Crawley and McCraken, the girls did  double duty as hookers.”

4)  “That radiation count was  a worry.  The more time underground here, the more radiation

exposure.   What’s the count today…292…almost three times acceptable level.”

  NOTE:

“The conditions in Elliot Lake are not the best conditions to work in to survive a normal life span. If anybody does not like to go to the hospital with lung cancer, he should have a very close look at the Elliot Lake situation before he signs on as an employee of either one of the companies. We believe that the companies should not have the right to expose people to conditions that will cause bodily harm. There has to be a clean-up programme before we can definitely advise people to seek employment in Elliot Lake.” (Paul Falkowski, United Steel Workers of America, Environmental Representative – June 1976)

MINERE JOE ZULJIN:  “I could be healthy, still workin. Now I have dust plus cancer. And the family is all upside down.  Dad’s gonna die maybe today, maybe tomorrow, we don’t know.” His voice broke once again. “And that’s the way it looks like. It’s bad. It’s very bad for a family. Family’s more hurt than me. Cryin’, you know. Disaster.”  (Joe Zuljin, Elliot Lake miner, died 1975, cancer, CBC documentary)

5)  “No one checking roof bolts anymore.  Some are popping loose.  The  pillars were  pulled

when  the stopes were  abandoned.  Damned dangerous for all of us. Knew a shift boss who

got telescoped by chunk from the mine ceiling…”

“Did you say telescoped?

“He was suddenly a much shorter man if you know what I mean.”

6) “Poor old Can Met is filling with water…deeper every day.”

7) “A lot of million dollar machines are not worth taking to the surface.  Emerge like ghosts

in our lamplight beams.”

8) “Stealing  becomes a way of life.”

9) “Men are just walking away from those houses they mortgaged…hoped the bank would let them.”

10) “What the fuck are you doing  down  here anyway?”

ASIDE:  Harry’s use of the F—— word made me do a lot of thinking in 1960.  Thinking that has

popped  into my mind now and then over the last 60 years.   What the fuck was I doing down at

the bottom of an abandoned uranium mine?  Second week of May,1960.   Just a week earlier

I was writing U. of T. exams in Russian History, the philosophy of Emmanuel Kant and  other 

non-engineering courses.  That ended on May 7.   By May  14, I  was cursing and swearing in

the darkness of  Can. Met where low  grade uranium had been extracted, then enriched in some 

way to make Uranium 235  so unstable that a tiny bit of that element could be detonated

producing enough energy to kill  thousands of people and devastate whole  cities like Toronto.

I had the presence of mind to slip a shard of that uranium ore  into my pocket.  The uranium, about 1%

of the shard, is nestled somewhere in the rather pretty pebbly conglomerate.  Every once in a while

I open my desk drawer and there the shard rests.

Somewhere inside this  shard  of Elliot Lake uranium ore there are tiny flecks of  uranium I imagine.   This  is  my only reminder

of  the Elliott Lake adventure.

“How the fuck did I ever find myself 2000 feet deep  in the bowels of the earth?”  Pure chance…good  luck really.  A few years earlier when

I was a student at Humberside Collegiate in West Toronto I wondered what I would do  with my life.  What could  I do?  I was a  middle of the pack

kind of person…not  the top, not the bottom.  Comfortable in the middle.  Homework was always avoided.  So on one spring day I wondered what

I could  make of my life.  What was  I good at?  Dancing, chasing girls, football, camping, hitch hiking, talking, Rover Scouts?   No jobs there.  But there was an answer.  The 

school had  given us barrages of  IQ tests over the years.  Multipole choice things which I took seriously.   Some of  my friends treated those

tests as  jokes  and just marked the little boxes  without reading the questions.  Finished fast. Must have got IQ of rabbits.  I took my time.  Maybe there was  an answer there.

This  is  a  picture  of our 38th Scout Rover Crew.  We had  just got our kilts.  In the 1950’s and 1960’s Scouting was  popular.   My first job in mining

exploration happened  because the mining boss, Gus  Schlitt, felt Boy Scouts were ideal  employees.  He asked mom and suddenly

 my brother and I were deep in the Canadian wilderness.  I travelled alone to Chibougamau, northern Quebec. Spoke high 

It was a  tough job in the

bush of Northern Quebec.

(continued):

What was  I good  at?  I dropped in on the guidance counsellor.  Nobody there.   The filing cabinets were not locked so I pulled out the “S”  drawer and

found my name.  There was  one  big Bar Graph that shocked me.  I  had  a great long line under which  it said  ‘abstract reasoning’.  What the

hell is abstract thinking?   I had  no idea.  Most disconcerting was  my low level of mechanical ability when compared to abstract thinking.

Shocked me.  Up to that point I wanted to be some kind of an engineer.  My forest ranger fantasy had ended years earlier.  Low mechanical

ability?  That must mean I  would not be a  good engineer.  Or so I thought.  I must keep  that secret since every summer I did engineering

type work and loved it.  Yet I was not supposed to ge good at it.   The shock made me more diligent believe it or not.  As it turns out all human

beings  use both kinds of reasoning…abstract and concrete.   The engineering door was not closed. I just thought

(Human beings are both concrete reasoners and  abstract reasoners.  But one or the other dominates apparently.  How  would you

know which  you are?  Really I have no idea.  A concrete thinker follows  a recipe while making soup.  An Abstract reasoner says ‘To hell

with the recipe, I can make my  own  soup’ and proceeds to pile in whatever seems available.  Maybe  even an old rubber boot.  Get the

idea?   I wish I had  not looked at that bar graph.)

I only saw that one bar graph.  The guidance teacher arrived back from lunch.   She was  incensed. 

 “Just what are you doing here?”

“Trying to find out my future’”

“Well that is secret information…none of  your business…now get out of here.”

Strange.   A guidance counsellor who had secret files on every student.  But kept them hidden forever.  No matter.   It took some time to get over the shock of

that bar graph.  Changed my life.   I wish abstract thinking had been explained to me.  Then perhaps I would have become some

kind  of engineer.  I  do like to figure things out for myself rather than follow step by  step instructions.   I did manage to puzzle out 

how to use a slice rule when I had to do  so.   I did read  manuals but when necessary..   Concrete thinkers like step by step

instructions.  Abstract thinkers like to figure things out for themselves. That would make me a bad cook.

7 signs you may be an abstract thinker

1. You spend a lot of time thinking about big questions such as ‘what is the meaning of life?’ or ‘what is the nature of consciousness?’
2. You are constantly wondering and asking why. As a child, you probably drove others a little crazy with your endless questions.
3. You don’t like doing things unless you can see a good reason for doing them: ‘just because’ won’t cut it.
4. You hate to follow step-by-step instructions and would much rather work things out for yourself.
5. You don’t like routines and get easily bored if you have to do the same task over and over again.
6. When thinking about something new, you often link it to something you already know, even if they seem to be unrelated ideas.
7. You are great at coming up with metaphors and analogies and linking ideas together in new ways.

WHAT ARE WE  DOING  2,000 FEET DOWN AN ABANDONED URANIUM MINE”

Let’s get back to Harry’s question.  “What the fuck are you doing down here…2000 feet down in the Can Met mine?”

I have  wondered about that question for a long time.  

SUNDAY  MAY 15, 1960

We used a  machine like this to explore the abandoned

passageways  of Can  Met.  All of us in the bucket except

the driver.  

We are living  in the Senior Staff  House, a kind of  hotel reserved for Can.  Met big shots.   A beautiful ranch house  structure  that has

never been fully used and is now vacant at a cost of $100,000.   Lots  of  other vacant buildings such as the single men’s

bunk house and 22 houses  built for families along with the huge mill and related machinery on top of the two shafts

that descend 2000 feet below surface.

We went underground at 8 a.m.   My crew consisted of Bob  McConnell,  Allan Pegler, Joe  Weber and  Harry MacGinnis…all

employees of Can. Met.  A  motorized  ‘Scoop” was waiting for us and  then we travelled through the main passageway to the eastern border

of the mine. This  Scoop would  be The last vehicle in the mine except for wrecked vehicles.

WERE WE SAFE?

“That’s fresh ‘loose’ you hear falling,” announced  Harry.  ‘Loose’ refers to pieces of  rock falling from

the mine ceiling where roof  bolts  have loosened.   Not a nice thought.

“This is  the spot where our shift bosses  ‘telescoped’ by falling ‘loose”.

“Are there many such accidents?”

“A Cat driver over in the Panel Mine drove right into the grizzly and was mashed to a pulp.”

 “What is a ‘grizzly’?”

“Why is that Danger Sign pulled aside?”

“Special treatment for us … we can go  anywhere we want… likely safe enough.”

“These stopes have been sealed  off as dangerous.”

“Then what are we doing  here?”

“We  do what we are told.”

Then  we set up the Ronka in a  pattern that looked logical. Difficult

to arrange a grid with right angles but no alternative.  Then we  Sat for lunch

on what Harry called a  ‘Potugueser’ and  had lunch.  The lump of rock

was as big as a half ton truck.   When it fell there was a man underneath.

“He is still there…never saw the rock  moved.”

Many  new  Canadian  immigrants  find work as miners.  In  the 1960’s  many

Portugue immigrated to Canada.  According to Harry the body was never

removed.  True or false?  No idea.

MONDAY MY 16,  1960

A new  motor was scheduled to arrive in Sprague this morning.  We spent time plotting what data

we had.  Harry  kept  us entertained with his library of mining fiascos.  

“Can Met invested $36,000 in an air conditioning system that never worked.”

“There are Jumbo vehicles down here that cost $50,000 but never worked.”

“The haulage ways and stopes are filled with abandoned  equipment…it’s like

travelling through a graveyard.”

He actually never spoke these words.  To speak  like Harry try adding

This  huge machine could drive roof  bolts into the ceiling of Can Met.

The bolts combined with heavy metal  netting helped prevent mine collapse.

They needed constant attention.

Meanwhile, we  set up the motor generator and  laid out our spread  wire through this part

of the mine.  In some places we had to crawl through ceiling rubble.

Joe Weber, an  ex-Nazi,  said he ‘was released  from his war crimes in 1953.’  Joe had

no kind words for Csn. Met. which he said  was  a company founded  on greed.

Uranium mining is not the best kind of  mining because the market is saturated

quickly.  Rush to market can cause safety problems.  Joe was an unhappy man.

Harry MacGinis kept referring to ‘the whorehouse’. a metaphor  which confused  me a bit.

“What whorehouse, Harry?”

“The Company warehouse…each time we go there we get fucked.”

Then Joe piped in.

“Can Met lost $1,500 worth of gas each month…stolen.”

“There was  $50,000 worth of spare parts ordered  for a  nonexistent truck.”

My crew loved telling these stories.  Sounded  true but who really knows. Theft

is common among miners. (*Remember the Yukon story?)  High  graders in the gold

mines are quite famous in Timmins, Ontario.  Books are written about them.  Where

TUESDAY  MAY 17, 1960

How did  machines as big as this  ever get 2,000 feet down the shafts at Can  Met?   The ‘Cage’ had to be large even  if the

machines  were taken down in pieces.   This was  brought back up when the mine was abandoned.  many others  were just abandoned

in the stopes and passageways far below.  These wrecks startled me as they suddenly appeared in our cones of light from our helmet lamps.

Today Harry MacGinnis came into the cook house reeling drunk after spending the

night at what he calls the Legion which is ‘just a shack  built in the woods by

the boys’   Seems drinking binges are common…at least according to Harry.

 By 8.30 a.m. we were down in the mine finishing up our resistivity

work and then began hauling in our base line cable.   Just walking alone in

the dark with a cone of light from my mining helmet was an experience…combination

of mystery, fear ad curiosity.   Often large objects  would suddenly burst upon

the cone of  light…startling.   Silence and  blackness.  Back at the Scoop

I took a picture of the boys but my flash bulb exploded . The  Sound was like a cannon

as it echoed down the dark passageway.

Today  Harry decided to take the Pope apart then shifted back to is

favourite target…his mother in law.  “She is  harder than a whore’s heart.”

Job complete.  Contrast between my two worlds…the sophistication of the

University of Toronto and the earthiness at the bottom of  Can Met uranium mine.

Which do you find more interesting?

WENESDAY  MAY  18, 1960   

Train heading home.  Phoned Marjorie as soon as I reached Sudbury from Elliot Lake.  So 

nice to hear her voice.   I wonder how she would have liked the mine experience. Then on 

to Toronto where Eric met me at West Toronto Station.   Drove Eric to his post

as lifeguard on Toronto’s notorious Cherry beach then on to the company HQ.on O’Connor Drive.

Flooyd Faulkner is getting married on Saturday.  Floyd has been a real leader

of men with a tricky sense of humour.   He calls me  ‘Fucking Al’ for instance  and

has done that ever since the terrible Groundhog River job back in 1957.  We lived

together in the  wilderness for nearly three months…only contact was an occasional

food drop and the emergency  evacuation of  poor Walter Helstein who had fallen on

an alder picket and pierced his hand with subsequent screaming infection.  That job

was  a test of endurance and  privation.   So I accepted the nickname with good humour.

Roughest job I ever had.  How rough?  We had to cut the blowfly larva off our sides of  bacon for instance.

Floyd had been  a cage operator in Kirkland Lake until  his other shift operator was

mushed  into jelly when the cage cable broke.  Floyd quit that job…resolved to

only work on the surface thereafter.

The day after his marriage he  will fly to Hudson’s Bay for three months on a geophysical job.

This business can be hard on family life.   

  I picked up my passport and health 

certificate today.   Shortly I will fly to New York…then Glasgow….then Dublin.

Our equipment should arrive  by ship  about the time I land.

Gord  Brand said  “Short job for you in Kinmount for two  days…can

you get your car…pay 9 cents  a  mile?”  “Sure”

Dad is mad…hates to lose the car as trip from West Toronto to Whitby

plant is a  nightmare by street car and bus.  The only redeeming factor in that

cross Toronto trip is that the Racetrack is at the mid point.   Whether going 

to work or coming home he could stop to lay a bet or two.  Harder by streetcar.

THURSDAY MAY  19, 1960

The Kinmount site…a known anomaly where E.M. machines  could be tested.   That’s our family 1953 Meteor.  What cannot be

seen  are the clouds  of black flies and mosquitoes…dense clouds  of them sucked blood in May each  year.

The Arizona crew testing their equipment.   Initially I was slated to join this crew but suddenly the Irish  job  materialized.

Left for Kinmount at 6 a.m. travelling north east on largely empty roads.  Saw

two cow  moose that ran beside me for a short distance just east of  Kinmount.

Our test site was  on  a  barely visible grassed ever bush road  where I

met Gord Brand and Paul Head  who  had set up the large new Induced Polarization

unit.  Operatonal .    Lunch consisted of a case of IPA…Ale.   Then I spent the

afternoon laying spread wires through the bush.  Came upon one shack

containing many dead  porcupines.  A mystery.  Porcupines are rare and

supposed to be protected.

Drove to Peterborough in the evening.  Staying at Rock Haven Motel.

Two big turtles on the side of the road…a Snapping Turtle and a Painted Turtle.

Paul Head told stories about the Arizona job where I was supposed to

go until Ireland came along.  The Irish  job  seems to be a bit of a

mystery.

 In Arizona near the Mexican border

 Apparently one of our guys got tangled up in a fast marriage

down there and had to be rescued by the company.  The story was more

earthy than I describe which made me wonder about the truth of the 

matter  As with all stories told.

FRIDAY MAY 20, 1960

After  a great breakfast we drove back to the job site…from triple lane highway to

double lane to single lane  to gravel road to turf road…to the job site  again.

The month of May is the worst month for blood sucking insects…clouds of

black flies trying to bite lumps of  flesh and burrowing their way along tight brltlines 

or squirrelling into ears…then mosquitoes by the thousands.  The females want

and need human blood…or any other kind of blood.   We managed to only get

1.5 miles of readings done.  This instrument can be dangerous …shock value of 500 volts.

So we were careful.   

SATURDAY MAY 21,  1960

We got a good early start today.  Working fast,  pushed to do so by the clouds

of bloody insects.   We finished the job by 6.30 p.m. and I took off immediately

for Toronto arriving home at 9.30…covered 250 miles in three hours.

Dad spent part of the evening killing black flies that were still trapped

in the car….and  cursing me in his usual hilarious way.  Dad  knew the

Kinmount job site because  I took the family there a year ago.  When

we arrived at the grassed  over end point, I asked:

“Well, Dad,  what do  you think of it?”

“Get me out of this goddamned bastardly bush this goddamn minute.”

Mom, Eric and I often laugh when we think of that comment by Dad.

This is my Dad, Red Skeoch, who made cursing sound like pop music.

SUNDAY MAY 22,1960

Drove to farm with mom and dad.  Rain and fog but we got a few plants in the

ground then drove up to visit Frank and Lucinda (mom’s brother on the next farm north of ours) ..

 returning to Cherry Beach to pick up Eric from his lifeguard job.  Eric has a lot of great stories

about lifeguarding.   Like the time he held  his binoculars to his  eyes  and announced…”Screwing

match over there!”  “Where?  Where?”  And Eric opened his hand.  “Right here” showing a Screw and

a  match in his hand.   I thought that was hilarious.  He had other stories best not put in  print.

It had been a  grand  day.

Our dog Peter had a great day prancing around in the mud.  Not so good

for the  car though.

MONDAY MAY 23, 1960

Bought some 35 mm film at Honest Ed’s on the way to Cherry Beach  with Eric.

Then  Dad  and  I went to the horse races at Old Woodbine.   Dad  was in

his element.

“We’ll get into the club house unless you bugger things up.”

“What must I do.”

“Nothing.  Just look straight ahead with no expression.  Do not

look at the ticket booth. Act like you own the place.  Follow me.”

Dad knew the guys in the ticket booth.  No problem.  I lost a couple

of dollars but Dad seemed to make a few.   Later we picked up Eric

and  had supper at Bassil’s Restaurant before returning home

TUESDAY MAY  24, 1960

Barry Nichols gave me my flight.tickets along with $300  expense money.

Gord Brand and Paul Head left by Land Rover for the Arizona  job.

I handed  in my expense  account for our car…$49.31…covered 480 miles

in three days.

Dan Bereskin arrived from Saskatoon as  a seismic  assistant and was

immediately shipped off to the gas pipeline job  near Niagara Falls.

WEDNESDAY MAY 25, 1960

Back at office.   Everyone seems a little envious  that I got the Irish job.

All is ready.

WEDNESDAY  MAY  25, 1960

Today  I took several uranium samples to the Rover Scout crew.

Rested.

THURSDAY MAY 26, 1960

I did nothing today except look up my friends checked my bag.

FRIDAY  MAY 29, 1960

Final briefing day.   Dr. Norman Paterson asked me to demonstrate

how the AFMag  worked.   Sort of strange because I thought he knew

everything.  Maybe he was just checking me out…not the AFMag.

Then we had one of the secretaries  type up my  report on the

AFMag.   That was a strange experience for sure because she

called  me ‘Dr. Skeoch’   Seemed strange.  

Then Barrie Nichols took me aside.

“Alan, you must pretend to be a permanent employee with

vast experience running the Turam  E. M. unit.  Can you

do that?”

“Sure…no one else seems to know the machine.”

I picked up the volt meters and  went home.

SATURDAY MAY 28, 160

Shopping day…technical books, rainwear, self-timer, filter for camera,

map case.   Talked  with Marjorie. We get along so well.

Thirty tomato plants for the farm then back to the racetrack

with Dad.   In evening Mom and I  went to see The Man from Havana

with Alex  Guinness.  

SUNDAY MAY 29, 1960

Uncle Art, Uncle Norman and Cousin ‘Long’ John  arrived

at the farm to have a beer with Dad…his brothers and nephew.  I went over to Red Stevenson’s place

for coffee in the evening…always welcome there…nice feeling.

MONDAY MAY 30, 1960

Mrs. Stewart next door wondered if I  would drop in on her Mom

in Glasgow since I had a  bit of a layover.  Promised to do  so.  Mr.

Cook drove me to the airport where Doug and  Harry had  arrived

to wave me off.   TCA stewardess nice.  The airport in New York is

immense.  KLM, Royal Dutch  Airlines had a man sent to meet me

and escort me to the right terminal.  Boarded at 6.25 after a  long rush.

Nine hour flying time.  Dutch are very friendly.

TUESDAY  MAY 31, 1960

Landed Prestwick airport south of  Glasgow.  Had  been  a landing 

point for World War II bombers … at least the planes that survived

the long flight across  the Atlantic Ocean.   Rather depressing place.

Spent much of the day in Glasgow.  Long lines of heavy stone tenements

turned black  from coal  fires.   Visited Mrs. Stewart’s Mom who had prepared

a  special  steak  with a fired  egg on top.  Because  of the blackened tenement building

I expected the residents to be unhappy.  The reverse was true … cheerful place.  I was

introduced to other tenants and taken on  a  tour of Glasgow.   Then back to

Prestwick for the fight to Dublin.

WEDNESDAY JUNE 1, 1960

AT last I arrived in  Dublin, Ireland.  Ready for the job.

But equipment had not arrived  at Arbuckle, Smith and

Company.  No Turam.  I will have to wait in Dublin.  Who knows

how long.  Fell asleep three times today.  Very tired.  Being alone

in a new city is not all that pleasant.

Kevin Behan …wife  and daughters …made my days in Dublin enjoyable.  They did not have to do that.   Irish hospitality.

I phoned Mrs. Behan who some friends had suggested as  a Dublin

contact.  She was full of joy.  “My husband  Kevin will be arriving from Italy shortly,

we want you to come out to the house immediately.”   And

so began my  days  in Dublin’s fair city…”

END EPISODE 85

(THIS EPISODE LINKS BACK  TO THE FIRST IRISH EPISODE)

alan skeoch

July 2020