EPISODE 1,182: CONVERSATION WITH ERIC SKEOCH: DID DAD REALLY USE SIGN LANGUAGE ON THE SS CAYUGA IN 1948?


EPISODE 1,182:  CONVERSATION WITH ERIC SKEOCH:  DID DAD REALLY  USE SIGN LANGUAGE ON THE SS CAYUGA IN 1948?

alan skeoch
Nov. 15, 2024


SS CAYUGA. built 1907. scrapped 1960. carried 19 million passengers.


ALAN AND DAD…SIGN LANGUAGE

“Hey Eric, did dad really know sign language? “
Remember that excursion on the SS Cayuga to Port Dalhousie or the Niagara river?        I think it was
the summer of 1948 when mom persuaded dad join us on board
at Toronto harbour.   Cost was reasonable…$1 for adults 50 cents for kids.
The Cayuga was getting old but the trip only took 2 hours with a capacity
crowd of 1800 people. The Cayuga was not scrapped until 1960.  Regular 
two hour trips by water then bus to Niagara Falls.

One of the enduring memories is dad surrounded by a crowd of 20 or so’deaf people.
Stone deaf.  Dad is  in the centre wiggling his fingers rapdly.  And the deaf people
are laughing.  Tears in their eyes kind of laughter.  They were enjoying his silliness.
We were embarrassed.  Seemed to us that dad was poking cruel fun at their handicap.

Now I see things a bit differently.  Last year I had knee surgery and was in a
wheelchair for a time.  Nobody talked to me.  It was a feeling that I did not
exist.  So I began speaking to others in wheelchairs and often their faces lit up.

And I thought of dad among the deaf crowd on the SS Cayuga.  They knew dad
was silly.   They loved being acknowledged.


EPISODE 1,179: part 3. WAS DUFFERIN PARK IN 1940’S JUST A DREAM/ OR WAS IT REAL?



Note…this may have been sent earlier to some readers…forgive me if that is the case:EPISODE 1.178: Part 3: DUFFERIN PARK — TRUE OR FALSE MEMORY OF 1940’S


alan skeoch
oct 29, 2024  and  Nov. 11,2024 

REMEMBER Eric when we built our own scooters….lots of them…parts were free


ORANGE CRATES WERE FREE AT EVERY GROCERY STORE…ROLLER SKATES
WERE POPULAR AND EASY TO NAIL ON A PIECE OF 2 X 4…PRESTO A1940’S MODEL
SCOOTER THAT COULD BE RECONSTRUCTED OVER AND OVER AGAIN ONCE THE
ORANGE CRATE WAS SMASHED. 



HAS my memory failed me?  Dufferin Grove Park (current name) was a far different 
park in the 1940’s as I remember.  Perhaps I am wrong.

1)  In the 1940’s I had to  cross Dufferin Park from our flat at 18 Sylvan Avenue. I was scared
that some boys would beat me up.  The Park had a dense mini forest of forsythia and
other bushes lining both sides of a little valley.  Gang members used this valley.  They were
teen agers, perhaps even younger but to me they were big and dangerous.  One day
in grade One our teacher gave each of us a cucumber to take home.  How could I get
the small cucumber home?  The big boys in the park would get it so I hid it in my shoe.
That is my earliest memory of the park.  Is it a real memory or total imagination?

2)   I can prove that I cut my leg on a broken beer bottle.  Was the glass neck and shard laden end a weapon
or just a cast away beer bottle? 
that I don’t know. But   I have the scar.  I  am not sure the cut was from a
weapon.

3) Was there ever a brutal gang fight between the Junction Gang and the Beanery 
gang in Dufferin Park?  Is my imagination tricking me?  I remember seeing a gang
member getting hit on the head with a piece of pipe or a baseball bat while he
was protecting a girl.   Exact spot — opposite gateway to the Dufferin racetrack.
Was that just a dream?   
Why is there no record of this fight?  

4) I remember one gang member being spread eagled on a police car
parked on Sylvan Avenue just west of our house.  Did this really happen?

5) Why is Toenails Simmons never mentioned?
 I remember being shown how to make a nuckle duster by sharpening a roofing
nail then disguising the nail with a wrapping of hitemedical tape.  

6) Who was ‘Toenails’ Simmons?  His young brother showed Eric and me the
roofing nail weapon.  Toenails was in jail.  The family lived on Gladstone Avenue
supposedly/\.   Was this true?  There is no evidence to support.  Did Simmons 
even exist?



THE NOSEY BOYS ARRIVE — FORT BUILDING ENDED

The barrels were this size but not as heavy///used to pack goods
…not water tight.  These are too well made and too heavy but correct size.


Eric, do you remember rolling the huge wooden barrels through the park?
Our landlady. Mrs/ Southwick gave us her tin sheathed garage for our new
fort.  We set the barrels up vertically, cut holes in each one and made wood tunnel.
Presto!   We had a  two room fort.  Big enough for 4 kids to crawl from one 
barrel to te other.   Remember what happened next?  Bad news!

The Nosey boys, with others.  They wrecked our fort.  Someone of  them
took a leak in our main room.  Our fort building ended.  

Eric, do you remember why they were called the NoseyBoys?
Dad invented the name becjuse their noses were always running.
They lived around our corner on Dufferin Street.  They were a little
rougher than we were an older.  They scared me but not you.  I think they wanted to 
be our friends but the urine in our fort ended any chance of that.

End Part 3;  CONVERSATION WITH MY BROTHER ERIC SKEOCH AFTER HIS 
UNTIMELY DEATH.   AUGUST 1, 2024.


POST SCRIPT:  
does anyone remember this book?   I read it 20 or 30 years ago…the gangs described
were not as tough as I imagined…mostly boys whose fathers were overseas .



THIS book is along gone our of print.


8)  Was the park caretaker named Mr. Hayward?

EPISODE 1,180: Part 4: HOW TO BUILD AN ORANGE CRATE SCOOTER…CIRCA 1940

REMEMBER, Eric, when we built our own scooters?….lots of them…parts were free
HERE is a picture of an orange crate scooter I built in about half hour. The rolling
wheels are made from a roller skate.  
street racing other scooters was popular and a little dangerous
ORANGE CRATES WERE FREE AT EVERY GROCERY STORE…ROLLER SKATES
WERE POPULAR AND EASY TO NAIL ON A PIECE OF 2 X 4…PRESTO A1940’S MODEL
SCOOTER THAT COULD BE RECONSTRUCTED OVER AND OVER AGAIN ONCE THE
ORANGE CRATE WAS SMASHED. 



EPISODE 1,175; IMAGINARY CONVERSATION WITH ERIC SKEOCH, (beer bottle weapons and mud spikes, 1940;s and 1960’s)


EPISODE  1,175;   IMAGINARY CONVERSATION WITH ERIC SKEOCH (beer bottle weapons and mud spikes…and 1944 snowstorm)


alan skeoch
oct. 22, 2024


Picture of Eric and me in front of one of our snow forts 1946 or around that time. In the1944 great December
storm Eric was only 4 years old while I was six years old…obviously we were younger than we appear
in the picture above.

The snowstorm of 1944 brought life to a standstill in Toronto.


Hey Eric. remember the snowstorm of December 1944.   Almost two feet of snow came down
and paralyzed the city.  More than 20 people died trying to shovel their way to the coal chutes outside each house..
No chute – no coal – no heat. The city was stopped dead. I think you, mom and I slept in the
same bed on cold nights while dad was on the couch.  





Remember what we did in those ww2 war years, Eric? We built the best damn forts made of snow where we could fight
against  make believe enemies.   We were largely unaware that World War Two was raging.  Hubert Skeoch
and Harvey Metcalfe arrived when the war ended.  Hubert had a plate of false teeth he removed
for our enjoyment and you found a ‘safe’ in Harvey’s back pocket.  



Hey Eric, remember when this picture was taken?  We inherited the Freeman Farm around 1960 after grandma and grandpa Freeman died.  Mom inherited 
the place…25 acres of stony soil with 5 swamps.  Hardly a farm was it?  The farm house was solid.  This is my favourite picture of the four of us.  Laughing.
We laughed a lot didn’t we?   In spite of dad’s gambling addiction.  It is possible to love people despite their weaknesses and eccentricities.  Mom kept us
together.  She got no credit.   She did not expect it.  We were not huggers and kissers,  We took each other for granted.  We loved each other.  



NOTE:  DUFFERIN PARK is mentioned several times in these memories… real or imagined?  Hard to say. The historical
records say almost nothing about the park.  Is my memory of one big gang fight false?  Why have I so much
detail in my mind?  Your thoughts!! Broken beer bottles were excellent weapons.




Bar Fight Image & Photo (Free Trial) | Bigstock

Broken beer bottle weapon


Hey Eric, remember when I fell on that broken beer bottle in Dufferin Park?  We were playing Blind Man’s Bluff with mom. perhaps 5 or 6 years old. 
Big slash.  Some blood.  The park was
a dangerous place in the war and post war years.  Gangs…The Junction Gang and the Beanery Gang.I think the
beer bottle had been a weapon.  Easy to make.  Grab the bottle by the neck and smash it against rock.  In most cases 
shards of lethal looking protruded.  Perhaps the bottle was just cast aside by a beer drinker.  No matter its origin
the bottle cut me badly.  I still have the scar 80 years later.  The cut was bad enough but made worse by
mom saying “Alan, we must get the cut stitched up at the hospital.”  Now that terrified me.  Hospitals were places 
where people go to die.  What did I do?  Remember?  I ran home as fast as I could.  Upstairs and under the
big bed.  Grasped the bed springs.  Mom could not pull me out.  I screamed.   Dad came home a little later.  He fished me
out fast.  He lifted the whole bed, turned it over and hauled me erect.  Strange that I do not remember getting the
stitches nor the hospital.  The whole incident showed me that the game of Blind Man’s Bluff could have bad
consequences and that dad was as strong as an ape.   He could lift a double bed and turn it over. 


Muddy football fields were to be expected.   This was our 1962 team at Victoria College, U. of T.,  Russ Vanstone and I have
mud faces on their right.  
Eric is in back row.


You are probably thinking “What this story  got to do with me…Eric.”  And there is a reason.  Years later you
were sliced far worse than me.  I remember the moment.   We were playing football against Riverdale whose
quarter back was nick-named Banana Nose.  The field was a quagmire of mud but our game was scheduled
regardless.  The change house  had  been bashed up and one Riverdale guy poked his head through a
missing divider yelling “We’re going to cream you pricks,” Or some such expression.  Football was serious
business in High school  We won.   But there were casualties.  You limped off the field at one point.  “Little cut in my leg
you said to coach Fred Burfprd.  It turned out to be a very nasty hole in your leg…more than an inch deep.
No-one knew that until later.  The hole had been filled with mud and white chalk field marker.  You played the
rest of the game.  No one knew how serious the slash was.  It was not a scratch.  It was big mud filled hole.
Just looking it made me feel weak in the knees. 

How did it happen?  Both teams, Humberside and Riverdale, prepared for the game by unscrewing the
cleats in our boots with ‘mud cleats’ to get a better a better purchase in the muddy field.  Mud cleats were about inch long.  They were weapons and you, Eric, were the reason mud cleats were never 
used again.  Or so I believe.

Was it mom who washed the mud out of your leg?  I think so.  No one really knew how badly you were hurt. Mom did.
Mom took you to Dr.Greenaway  that evening.  He got very serious.  

“This could be badly infected.We won’t know until; morning.
So take this syringe home with you.  Alan, your mother says both sleep in the same bed, so you will be the
first to notice trouble.  If Eric says something  or if the leg gets puffy and red then you give him this needle
right away. Understand/‘“

I feared needles.  I was already weak in the knees due to your injury.  Dr. Greenaway put me in a
life or death situation.  I believe I stayed awake all night.  I stared at the grotesque syringe.  I was scared.
You were calm.   Asleep.
Nothing happened.  We saw Dr. Greenaway the next morning.  He took the needle away.  Told you not to
play any more football for a time.   Coach Burford got upset.   The mud cleats were unscrewed and
dumped in the garbage.

The Humbersiders, namely us, won the game from Banana Nose and the Riverdale tough guys

Life continued.   Both you and I have scars to remind us of our youth. YOURS WORSE THAN MINE. I have no idea what was in that syringe.
Do you remember?

ALAN
Oct. 26, 2024 

ON November 4, 2024, a few of the survivors of that game in 1956 will meet for lunch at the Burlington Golf
and Country Cub for lunch.  we have done this for years.  I wonder if Zig, Gary, Gord, Marino or the Rodin boys will remember?


EPISODE 1,175; IMAGINARY CONVERSATION WITH EIC SKEOCH (1944 snowstorm , mud cleats, syringe, broken beer bottle)

EPISODE  1,175;   IMAGINARY CONVERSATION WITH EIC SKEOCH


alan skeoch
oct. 22, 2024


Picture of Eric and me in front of one of our snow forts in 1946 or around that time. In 1944 great December
storm Eric was only 4 years old while I was six years old…obviously we were younger than we appear
in the picture above.  Over 20 people died trying to shovel the snow…and a street car ran off its tracks…and
the city of Toronto became snowbound.

The snowstorm of 1944 brought life to a standstill in Toronto.


Hey Eric. remember the snowstorm of December 1944.   Almost two feet old snow came down
and paralyzed the city.  More than 20 people died trying to shovel their way to the coal chutes outside each house..
No chute – no coal – no heat. The city was stopped dead. I think you, mom and I slept in the
same bed on cold nights while dad was on the couch.  





Remember what we did in those ww2 war years, Eric? We built the best damn forts made of snow where we could fight
against  make believe enemies.   We were largely unaware that World War Two was raging.  Hubert Skeoch
and Harvey Metcalfe arrived when the war ended.  Hubert had a plate of false teeth he removed
for our enjoyment and you found a ‘safe’ in Harvey’s back pocket.  



Hey Eric, remember when this picture was taken?  We inherited the Freeman Farm around 1960 after grandma and grandpa Freeman died.  Mom inherited 
the place…25 acres of stony soil with 5 swamps.  Hardly a farm was it?  The farm house was solid.  This is my favourite picture of the four of us.  Laughing.
We laughed a lot didn’t we?   In spite of dad’s gambling addiction.  It is possible to love people despite their weaknesses and eccentricities.  Mom kelt us
together.  She got no credit.   She did not expect it.  We were not huggers and kissers,  We took each other for granted.  We loved each other.  






Hey Eric, remember when I fell on that broken beer bottle in Dufferin Park?  We were playing Blind Man’s Bluff with mom. 
Big slash.  Some blood.  The park was
a dangerous place in the war and post war years.  Gangs…The Junction Gang and the Beanery Gang.I think the
beer bottle had been a weapon.  Easy to make.  Grab the bottle by the neck and smash it against a rock.  In most cases 
shards of lethal looking protruded.  Perhaps the bottle was just cast aside by a beer drinker.  No matter its origin
the bottle cut me badly.  I still have the scar 80 years later.  The cut was bad enough but made worse by
mom saying “Alan, we must get the cut stitched up at the hospital.”  Now that terrified me.  Hospitals were places 
where people go to die.  What did I do?  Remember?  I ran home as fast as I could.  Upstairs and under the
big bed.  Grasped the bed springs.  Mom could not pull me out.  I screamed.   Dad came home a little later.  He fished me
out fast.  He lifted the whole bed, turned it over and hauled me erect.  Strange that I do not remember getting the
stitches nor the hospital.  The whole incident showed me that the game of Blind Man’s Bluff could have bad
consequences and that dad was as strong as an ape.   He could lift a double bed and turn it over. 



Muddy football fields were to be expected.   This was our 1962 team at Victoria College, U. of T.,  Russ Vanstone and I have
mud faces on their right.  
eric is in back row.
what wonderfull friends we had.

You are probably thinking “What this story  got to do with me…Eric.”  And there is a reason.  Years later you
were sliced far worse than me.  I remember the moment.   We were playing football against Riverdale whose
quarter back was nick-named Banana Nose.  The field was a quagmire of mud but our game was scheduled
regardless.  The change house  had  been bashed up and one Riverdale guy poked his head through a
missing divider yelling “We’re going to cream you pricks,” Or some such expression.  Football was serious
business.   We won.   But there were casualties.  You limped off the field at one point.  “Little cut in my leg
you said to coach Fred Burfprd.  It turned out to be a very nasty hole in your leg…more than an inch deep.
No-one knew that until later.  The hole had been filled with mud and white chalk field marker.  You played the
rest of the game.  No one knew how serious the slash was.  It was not a scratch.  It was big mud filled hole.
Just looking it made me feel weak in the knees. The hole was ghastly…looked like you had been shot.

alan skeoch
oct. 26, 2024

EPISODE 1,174 :PART 1: REMEMBERING ERIC SKEOCH FONDLY…FEBRUARY 8, 1940 TO AUGUST 1, 2O24



REMEMBERING ERIC SKEOCH FONDLY…FEBRUARY 8, 1940 TO AUGUST 1, 2O24

alan skeoch
(brother)
October 6. 2024

My brother, Eric Skeoch, died on August 1, 2024.  His death was a shock to all who new him and particularly to
me as we were close enough to be twins.  The only example of sibling rivalry that comes to mine is the ‘cake
icing caper’ below.  

we shared 80 years of adventures.  I miss him.

These are my memories of Eric revealed in an imaginary conversation…the kind we had often when
he was alive.

THE IMAGINARY CONVERSATION




Eric, remember The Cake Icing caper?  It comes to mind first and foremost as I begin to remember
you..  The Cake Icing caper does not reflect well on me
but the incident shows in a simple way Eric’s planning skill.

Mom made good cakes with real cake icing liberally lathered on cake that had the bad tendency
to dry out.  Eric sliced the icing off the cake and looked forward to wolfing it down after the cake was gone.   I knew that
and planed to grab te slab of icing and then race down the back stairs before Eric could slide off
the kitchen chair.  My moment.  I grabbed the slab and raced for the door.

That is as far as I got.  Eric knew what was about to happen.   He had locked the door.  And he pinned me to the wall.
He may have landed a punch but he was too busy laughing to do any damage.

I think mom and dad were part of Eric’s scheme.

Such a trivial story.  Then again Such a meaningful story because it shows both Eric’s wit and his knowledge of
my frailties.   


Hey Eric, remember Dad taking us sleigh riding. Our new sleigh.  Must have been around 1944 or
thereabouts.  Remember dad said ‘you boys wait at the top of the Grenadier hill while I test the
sleigh.”  We waited and waited and waited but Did never returned.  Far below a crowd had gather around a tree.
Eventually we slid downtime hill on our bums to find dad and our slight wrapped around a tree.  Dad
broke some ribs but we were more concerned about our broken sleigh.

Hey, Eric, remember those wild peccaries at the High Park Zoo?  Vicious little wild kind of pig.  Dad thought we could get closer to
them by climbing up behind  those pigs.  They had tusks. There must have been about 30 of them
waiting to greet us.  They had tunnelled under the wire fencing
and were in attack mode.   I will never forget dad carrying you Eric and trying to kick the peccaries
while yelling at me to get the hell out of there.  He was surrounded but got a couple of good kicks away.  
 What if he had fallen Eric? Would the pigs devour both of you and then come for me?
That must have been the springtime of 1943.   You were 3 years old and I was 5.


Hey Eric, remember perching on old Mr. Howard’s cannon.  Dad took us there under duress.
He preferred to take us to Dufferin Racetrack didn’t he?  Mom must have persuaded him to keep him
away from the Dufferin track. where he wasted his pay checks.  He wanted us to be little more self reliant scam artists
like the Artful Dodgers in Dickens novel. 

Dufferin racetrack was close to our flat at 18 Sylvan Avenue.   The racetrack was dad’s real home…that was where
all his paychecks were spent.  Mom supported our family as a sweatshop garment maker.  How she did that remains a mystery.





Remember when we were big enough to sneak into Dufferin Racetrack.   You were 8 and I was 9.   Just the right age to scamper under the
fence where gamblers gathered.  “Boys your job is to Pick up all the tickets that are dropped. Always some
fool drops a good one.”  We got piles of them.  Dad said not to bother with tickets covered in
tobacco juice.  Remember seeing dad checking them?  Occasionally he would find a good one
which he could cash.     That was his scam not ours. He kept the cash while we enjoyed being part
of his skulduggery.



Remember dad showing us how to run our own scam at the racetrack?  “Boys, gather up
some of those racing forms thrown away by people leaving the track then sell them
for a quarter the next day” We did that successfully a couple of times. Good money. Someone
must have complained because we were chased away.  Too bad for the guys betting on
yesterdays horses.  Good for us.

Hey Eric,remember how dad a showed us how to get into just about any racetrack or Fair  free?  …like 
the Royal Winter Fair. “Eric hold my hand.
look straight ahead as if you own the place.”    And dad would put his free hand on the rump of a 
Holstein cow or Shorthorn steer being led into the showroom.  That worked every
time as I remember. More difficult at the racetracks but doable.

He yEric, remember how dad used that scam wherever tickets were required.  Like sneaking into
the Club House at the old Woodbine track.  “Look straight ahead…no expression on your faces…slip by the 
gate, I know a man there… we don’t look nervous …we will be fine.”      

That was a lesson in life skills not taught at school.  Bit of a scam. We developed nerves of steel.

Hey Eric, remember when Uncle Norman arrived at our house with half a pig.  Trail in blood from
his half ton truck to our flat om Sylvan avenue.  Or was that just my imagination?  Food was short due to rationing in the war years.
Remember tn\hose pork pies mom made?


Hey Eric remember when dad bought that horse in a claims race…part of a horse really.
We sneaked into the track through the board fence to the stables.  We got there just in time
to hear the shot.   The horse reared ump a bit then fell down dead as I remember.  We were
relieved.  How was dad ever going to keep a horse in our flat? Mom would have been fit
to be tied.   Not sure that dad ever told her.  If he did  mom would have said her usual
criticism of him.  “Oh Red, you fathead.”

Hey Eric, remember when you knocked Barclay Cormack’s front teeth out with the baseball bat?
His baby teeth.  Remember all those kids we played with?…Jimmy Melvin, Joan Linton, Bobby Samanas, 
Barclay Cormack, you and me? Barclay was the catcher…played too close to thebatzer.
Even professional catchers get whomped occasionally.

Hey Eric,remember how Bobby Samanas’s dad made us wooden Tommy Guns for our
imaginary war in Dufferin Park?   Remember how we ventured up to Mount Dennis and
the Mount Dennis gang smashed our wooden guns against a tree and chased us home.?




Hey Eric, remember how we collected orange crates and  roller skates to make scooters.
When the crates broke they were easy  to replace so we had our own little demolition derby.
The skates  were the running gear…half a skate on each end of a short 2 x 4.





Hey Eric, remember the Robertson candy  truck heist ? We made a big mistake that day.  
We watched two boys steal chocolate bars from the Robertson truck.  They ran home. Down Dufferin
Street below College  Street.  We knew them.  A police car arrived and the cop asked if anyone had
seen the robbery.  “We did!”  The officer then put us in his cruiser and questioned us. “Do you know where 
the thieves live?  “Yes sir,” we answered a bit nervously. “Come along.” He knocked on the door
“He turned to us…”Are these the boys?”  We new then and there we were in trouble as snitches.
For days we went to and from Kent Public School nervously.  Nothing happened fortunately but fingering
bad guys to the police was avoided from then on.  

Hey Eric, remember the school dentist.  Free for kids.  He fixed lone of my teeth.  “If it bleeds hold your
mouth over the curb of the sidewalk until it stops.”   We were expected to be tough rather than sucks.

Hey Eric, I envied you big time. You were right handed.  I was left handed. You could do just about
anything.   Like catch a baseball. I fumbled.  Baseball gloves were made for right handed people
like you and 90% of kids.  I was an oddball.  Worse!  My teachers in grade 3 or 4 or both decided to
“brake me”.    Force me to use my right hand.  It did not work so they gave up. Result is that I cannot
tell; right from left.    f someone says “turn left or turn right”,I have to think about it.  I am no 86 years old
and still have trouble.   You became a better athlete than me.  I was OK at sports…but not terrific.
You were terrific. You were Chosen to attend the Ontario Athletic Leadership Camp one summer 
as I remember.   I envied you.

We were close friends all our lives.  Little sibling rivalry.  I miss you every time I see cake icing.

END PART 1;  Celebration of Eric Skeoch’s life.  AN imaginary conversation.

EPISODE 1,174: THE LEAVES ARE MAGNIFICENT RIGH TNOW

EPISODE 1,174:   THE LEAVES ARE MAGNIFICENT RIGH TNOW


alan skeoch
oct. 22, 2024

This is the time you should be walking…anywhere!   The autumn leaves are spell binding.
Beyond words.   Take a look.

P.S. Some of you might wonder why my stories have not been coming.   They will come.
Right now I ma writing a series of conversations with my brother Eric who died August 1,2024.
Imaginary conversations.  The kind of conversations we had when he was alive.  Our childhood
was exciting.  We were a lucky generation.  Some readers know that.  Others may find
these conversations interesting.  

First let’s look at the autumn leaves.

a;lan

Fwd: EPISODE 1.171: MARY FIX PARK — A JEWEL IN MIDST OF CHAOS



Begin forwarded message:


From: ALAN SKEOCH <alan.skeoch@rogers.com>
Subject: EPISODE 1.171: MARY FIX PARK — A JEWEL IN MIDST OF CHAOS
Date: October 16, 2024 at 2:22:18 PM EDT
To: john Wardle <jwardle@rogers.com>, Marjorie Skeoch <marjorieskeoch@gmail.com>


EPISODE 1.171:  MARY FIX PARK — A JEWEL IN MIDST OF CHAOS


alan skeoch
oct/ 14, 2024

EPISODE 1.171: MARY FIX PARK — A JEWEL IN MIDST OF CHAOS

EPISODE 1.171:  MARY FIX PARK — A JEWEL IN MIDST OF CHAOS


alan skeoch
oct/ 14, 2024