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EPISODE 372 meeting of the castlefield institute June 17, 2021 (John Ricker presiding)

EPISODE 372    MEETING OF THE CASTLEFIELD INSTITUTE  JUNE 17, 2021  JOHN RICKER PRESIDING


alan skeoch
june 17, 2021




This is John Wardle…creator and manager of the relatively unknown Castlefield Institute, an organization
that discusses and makes suggestions concerning world events some of which threaten our very existence.

Most of the time, however, we just enjoy each others company   We laugh a lot which is a good sign.
And every one seems to have an opinion some of which are astounding…i.e. brilliant.  Many are just
plain silly.   Silly and delightful.  We have a good time.

alan



And this is John Ricker in whose honour the Castlefield Institute was created.  John Ricker has suggested to John Wardle a disparate assembly of 
people to join him in monthly discussions.






“Mmmmmmmmmmmm!”   (read below to understand the Mmmmmmmmmm!)



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EPISODE 372 THIS EUCLID DUMP TRUCK MAKES OUR VAN LOOK LIKE A DINKY TOY…COAL MINING CONTROVERSY 1990’S OHIO




EPISODE 371   STRIP MINING IN OHIO


alan skeoch
June 2021

See if you can find Andrew in this picture.   Behind the Euclid are heaps of rubble that was once a dense and beautiful
Caledonian forest.   Why destroy the forests of Central Ohio?  Imagine the scale of destruction this Euclid could wreak.
A few loads like this and our farm in Southern Ontario would cease to exist.   Can you guess the economic justification
of using these Euclids?   What is being sought under the Osage Orange groves?  Under the Shagbark Hickory trees?
Under the top soil?  Under the subsoil?



Mining is not pretty.  Strip mining is especialy ugly….extremely so.

We had good friends in central Ohio back in the 1990’s and spent several 

 week-ends driving down to their farm outside Zanesville.   To us it was
a new world in many ways…sometimes a startling new world.

For instance Osage Orange trees thrived and in the fall dropped bushels
of aromatic smelling warted fruit the size of baseballs.  The Osage Orange
trees, however, were not so pleasant as they were covered in spikes the size
of hypodermic needles.

Perhaps the most startling thing  however was not the work of nature.
It was the opposite.  Beneath the lovely forested hills of southern Ohio
are seams of coal. Layered parallel to the ground.  These seams vary from
60 to 120 feet below the ground…technically called overburden.

To get access to these seams of coal it is easier to strip the hills of
their trees, shrubs, plant life with bulldozers.    Then use gigantic
scoop shovels that, in the 1990’s, were bigger than some apartment
buildings.

The  damage done to the hills and valleys of southern Ohio
by these strip coal mining operations is hard to describe.  Best
seen visually in the picture of one Euclid dump truck that is so
large that it makes our truck look like a Dinky Toy.

After strip mining is complete the coal companies are obligated
to put top soil back but the end result robs central Ohio of
its former beauty.

alan skeoch
June 2021

When is it economic to strip mine in Ohio?
  • Generally it is economic to strip mine when there is a 20:1 ratio of overburden-to-coal seam, meaning, for example that a three-foot coal seam can be surface mined economically when the overburden is up to 60 feet. However, at some surface mines in Ohio, highwalls of up to 200 feet high remain where five-foot-coal seams have been extracted.


Just a few pictures below.






In the 1990s, a new form of surface mining,mountaintop removal, became more common. This more invasive method provides access to coal that would’ve been left behind by traditional strip mining. In recent years, tensions over mountaintop removal have risen between those wanting to boost the state’s diminishing coal industry and activists wanting to protect the environment.



wiki-wyoming-coal-mine.png



One final thought:  WHAT HAPPENS TO OUR CIVILIZATION WHEN WE HAVE CONSUMED ALL THE COAL AND
OIL DEPOSITS?
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EPISODE 370: ONE DAY IN JUNE 2021 (JUNE 16) FREEMAN/SKEOCH FARM, WELLINGTON COUNTY, ONTARIO)

  EPISODE 370:    ONE DAY IN JUNE 2021  (JUNE 16)  FREEMAN/SKEOCH FARM, WELLINGTON COUNTY, ONTARIO)

alan skeoch
June 13, 2021

Today I quit work early in the morning.  Too nice a day to work.  So I spoke
to myself.  “Alan, why don’t you try to capture this day on he farm.  Forget about
all your old machines.  Forget about weeding.   Forget about appointments.”

“Just take a walk.  Make the walk into an episode..”
“Good idea, but readers like a purpose.”
“Purpose…shhhhmorpose.”
“No, they need a challenge.”
“Challenge…shhhhmallenge.”
“Let me give them just one thing to look for.””
“What?”
“See if they can find the thistles that are taking over the flax and sweet clover field.”
“Look for thistles?”
“Thistles….ssssmmistles.”

The thistles are about to disappear beneath the blade of the Bobcat bucket.

alan Skeoch

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EPISODE 369: OLD PICTURE FREEMAN FARM … GRANDPA, ERIC, DAD (SPIFFY OUTFIT), LADDIE…OLD VERANDAH 1943 PERHAPS



EPISODE 389   OLD FREEMAN FARM…GRANDPA, ERIC, DAD (SPIFFY  OUTFIT), LADDIE…OLD VERANDAH 1943 PERHAPS
                          (SOMETHING IS OUT OF PLACE IN THIS PICTURE…WHAT IS IT?)


alan skeoch
June 2021

Take a look at the picture below.  Something is out of place…does not fit…odd.  What is it?
No, it is not the cat’s bum.  No, it is not the dog Laddie trying to persuade granddad to teach
him to smoke a pipe.   No, it is not the decrepit back stairs.   Wise up.  Look closer.



Laddie, grandpa, Eric, and the cat all fit and are in harmony with the shape of the back porch.
The odd thing is Dad.  Red Skeoch looks spiffy.  Sort of odd for a man whose job was building Truck tires
at Dunlop Tire Company in Toronto.

Look at the new hat…a sleek black fedorah..and the suit.  Spiffy.    Why is he dressed like that?

The answer is simple.  Dad is en route to the horse races somewhere in Ontario.  We had no car.
So getting to the races depended upon special busses leaving for the track at Fort Erie or in New York
State at Batavia.   Close by , however, were many Toronto racetracks also serviced by special 
busses…Thorncliffe Park, Woodbine, Dufferin and another near Mimico.  Those special busses always
seemed jammed with men like Dad.  Many were Chinese which was how Dad came to speak Mandarin!
Dad’s version of Mandarin which is called Gibberish .  His Chinese gambling friends liked dad even
when he was outlandish.  At least my memory of them involved smiles… 

Why so spiffy?   Because dad liked to live a second lifestyle .   He had friends everywhere it seemed.  
One friend let him into the high class part of Woodbine track…or Fort Erie.   He dressed to fit the image
of the Club House class.  When he took us to the track his instructions were always the same. “Look straight
ahead boys…walked right through the ticket gate with me…I have a contact taking Club House revenue…Do
not look anywhere but straight ahead.  If someone yells, keep moving.”

Now this picture was taken before he started taking us with mom to racetracks.   Eric must be out
5 or 6 years old which puts the picture around 1944.   Why wasn’t Dad in the army like so many
of our relatives?  Too old.  His work was also a necessary war industry.  Armies moved on rubber tires.
Dad married late in life “because no woman would have him” some said.
But that was not true.  He attracted people\le even with his offhand manner.  He was one of those people
who were charismatic.   Charming.  Disarming.  Impolite….always searching for the golden ring on
the merry go round of life.  He made our life as his kids fascinating.  

He made the life of collection agencies from Finance companies challenging.   Mom often had to
pay off his debts.  She loved him in spite of his failings.  Whenever he got into trouble her comment
was “Oh Red, you fathead.”

THE PICTURE

No, I do not know how he got from the farm to the racetrack on that day…Gray Coach bus
stopped at Silver Creek.   And Uncle Frank could be relied upon to rev up the Model A or
Model T to get him there.

Granddad was poor, respectable, welcoming.  He liked Dad in spite of his tendency to scam
those around him.   We loved him.

alan
(another Red Skeoch story)
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EPISODE 358 “WHERE DID YOU FIND ALL TOSE PICTURES FOR TE EPISODES, ALAN” “IT WAS NOT EASY”

EPISODE 358    “WHERE DID YOU FIND ALL THOSE PICTURES FOR THE EPISODES, ALAN” “IT WAS NOT EASY”

alan skeoch
June 2051

This is my family:  Mom, dad, Eric and I.  We laughed a lot.  Did not know we were poor.
Actually we believed we were rich.  And we were correct.  We were rich.

WRITING STORIES WITH PICTURES 2021

Dan Bowyer wondered why there were no pictures with the rather crude story about the Fireman’s Lift.
He liked both and has responded to every episode, many of which paralleled his life. Then
The Mississauga Library System wanted permission to replicate my pictures.  Others were surprised
I was able to illustrate the 357 stories with pictures.  How was it done?

Getting pictures to fit the stories is not easy.  Some stories took me several days to find pictures.  But pictures
were necessary to establish that the stories are authentic.   

HOW I GOT SO MANY PICTURES


1) From elementary school to the present time I have been a camera enthusiast.   Initially using 
cheap little plastic cameras that always seemed to leak light to the more sophisticated pocket cameras
available today.  My best cameras have been and are the 
Sony 1.8-4.9/10.4 – 37.1 with Zeiss lens.  They take a lot of abuse and do fit in my pocket even if
the weight threatens to pull my pants down. I dropped one ..broke it…cost $500.  Uttered a few
choice expletives and bought another camera.  

2) I saved negatives and pictures in cigar boxes even when a kid.  Then I began making slides….35 mm.
Last year , 2020, I looked at the boxes and boxes of slides that no one would ever see.  There must be a way to get
slides in digital form.   First, I bought a cheap replicator…not good due to dust.   Second, I discovered a
company that copies slides professionally.  At a cost.   Was it worth spending 50 cents to $1 a slide and same
for negatives. ?  I decided to spend the money.  Well over $1,500 so far…not cheap.  More to do. Threw away lots.

3) All converted pictures and slides come back to me in a stick form and can be injected
into my computer like the vaccine is to our arms.   Then Spin them like a slot machine … images rolling by.

4) Reams and reams of pictures … over 1,500 images. saved.
Lots of work.   I also have several thousand images put into my computer from my cameras.
Sometimes I go searching for images to fit the stories.  Sometimes an image triggers a story.

5) Then each picture is photo shopped to improve it…lights up dark images….crop images
to highlight a particular theme.   Lots of work.   Sometimes it takes a whole day to put things together.
Sometimes several days.   It is a challenge to do a Story a Day but an enjoyable challenge.

6) To me a story has to have both a written script and lots of illustrations.  One without the other just
does not feel right.

7) DOES ANYBODY READ THE STORIES?  AM I JUST WASTNG TIME?


Who reads the stories?  No one?
That question occurs to me.  I know, however, that some people in isolation like
having a story a day.  My sister in law, Anne Hughes, told me yesterday that she looks
forward to my story every morning with her coffee.  She and her husband are cloistered
in a tiny home.  They can no longer drive.  My stories help which pleases me.

8) Do the stories go beyond my friends?  It is wonderful to get an email from persons I do not
know who have found my stories on the internet.  Yesterday I got  note from a young man who spends summers at  Paradise Lodge on
the Algoma Central Railway… a person I do not know.  He loved those wilderness stories about
Wart Lake, mining exploration, wolves, lightning and Marjorie arriving with our cat and her sewing
machine.  We had lots of wolves . We had no electricity.   So many notes like that.
Victor Poppa’s grandson for instance…writing a play about Victor.  I hoe he will Remind me to send some
more pics…lost his email.  Then there is Dr. Norm Paterson, my former boss in the mining
exploration days who sends notes often.   On and On.  Letter from Belgium, Australia, England,
Ireland…from the far corners of Canada like Mayo Landing , Whitehorse, Anchorage Juneau

Then so many notes from people who have had similar experiences but have lost
the pictures.   Lucky for me that mom had kept some black and white pics of our childhood.

Missing pictures?  Lots of them.  I wish we had more pics of dad wasting his money at racetracks
…wasting his money but sharing the experience by sneaking us in to tracks when we were young or
setting us up as scam artists selling gamblers day old racing forms.  Did we really do that? Or is it
imagination.  No pictures to prove or disprove.

And nice to get notes from friends…to rekindle friendships in spite of the pandemic. Russ Vanstone and
his bees; for instance…..too many people to name.  I know some people do not read the stories.  a couple of months ago
I started to delete names because I felt I was cluttering up the emails of those who do not respond.  There was a
hue and cry … so I have not deleted yet,  And will not.  So many of my former students are on the list. We
speak as peers now.  Jeannette Chau even nominated me for a Mississauga literary award.

JUST THE BARE FACTS…LOOK AT THAT GRIN!



8)  Should I worry if the story and the pictures do not reflect well upon me?  No,  I am too old to 
worry about my appearance, my language, my.mistakes,  I try to be self effacing.  Who the hell
wants to read about personal heroic exploits.  Better if the stories have a more earthy touch.  Like
when Floyd Faulkner nick named me Fucking Al on that Groundhog River job in Northern Ontario.
It was a compliment.    Voltaire’s novel Candide has been a big influence…i.e. the naive innocent
facing the best of all possible worlds. Remember Voltaire’s conclusion?  “If this is the best of all possible
worlds, what then of the others?.”

THIS STORY BELOW SHOWS HOW IMPORTANT PICTURES ARE … WHO WOULD BELIEVE IT OTHERWISE?

9) Here is a mini story.   A story made in gentler times.  Today our behaviour
on an Air Canada flight to Iceland and then Toronto might lead to big time trouble.
But  in 1965 we were just entertainment … young and foolish.  If I told the story without
the pictures you might think it was a fabrication.


PHOTO 1:  Marjorie, my brother Eric and I had been drinking a pint of Guinness
in the Dublin lounge waiting for our flight back to Canada.  We were joined
by a Catholic priest and his father.  Nice men. Might have shared a second pint.  Innocent enough
Lots of people drink Guinness.  We boarded OK.  But once in the air the Guinness
did funny things.  We started to giggle.  Marjorie wiped my brow with whipping cream
or was it mashed potatoes?

PHOTO 2:  I maintained I was sober until I found this picture in my camera.
Apparently the pilot came back to check us out.  He borrowed my camera to get
this magnificent shot.   Pictures might remind you of Jack Lemmon and Shriley McLean
in Days of Wine and Roses.


PHOTO 3    Our Air Canada pilot was called by the stewardess to check us out.
He realized we were just young and silly.  Then he borrowed my derby hat for 
this picture which I managed to take.  My brother and I had bought derby hats
at an antique market.  The seller insisted that mine had belonged to Sir Ernest
MacMillan whose initialS were inside.   The derby hat looked good on the 
pilot who was a laid back kind guy.  What a great pilot we had on that flight.

ABSENT PHOTO 4:  Eric was busy proposing to the stewardess much to her amusement.
I have a picture to prove it but wanted to keep this story brief.

PCTURES TELL A STORY

Each of the pictures below could be a story…should be a story…will be a story.

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episode 163 WE TOOK THE KIDS TO IRELAND…JUST BEFORE THEY LEFT THE NEST…GLAD WE DID (around 1980)

EPISODE 163   WE TOOK THE KIDS TO IRELAND… JUST BEFORE THEY LEFT THE NEST…GLAD WE DID

alan skeoch
June 2021

CHILDREN have a tendency to grow older…to grow up.  When they hit those late
teen age years they often leave the nest no matter how comfortable that nest has
become.  Marjorie and I knew that.  Most parents know that.  We knew it would happen
soon so we tried to capture them for this fling to Southern Ireland where I once
worked as you may remember in earlier episodes.



We landed in Shannon on the Irish west coast…rented a car…and then
I said “Let’s find a pub and get a pint of Guinness right away.”

I still remember Marjorie’s response because it was so out of character.
“Well Alan, I hope visiting pubs is not the main part of our trip with the boys?”

At which point I looked at the boys and they looked at me.  We grinned
and soon found a pub.  






WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO READ A STORY ABOUT OUR TRIP?

Good point.   Why would you want to read a story about our trip? Plan your own trip.  Perhaps you  have plans
to travel there when this Covid 19 scourge ends.   One of my ex-students Jeannette Chau, whose
husband, Michael, is Irish, asked “Do you think Ireland is still like the Ireland you found
back in 1960…then again in 1965…then again in 1980…then again and again.”
Yes,  I really think Ireland keeps its charm.   The violent past is present but it
sure is not a downer for tourists unless you are looking for a fight.  I think we have
been to Ireland seven times.  Each time memorable.  Pleasant.  Boisterous.

Kids like calves grow into adults.  We tried to catch our kids when they were
on the cusp of adulthood.


I wanted to share my Irish adventures crawling through the 100 year old Knockmahon
mine…with the boys.   More than a tourist venture…an Adventure.



There were several ancient adits to the mine open on the cliff face along
the south coast near Bunmahon, County Waterford.   The local people knew about them but few others
did.   crawling on our stomachs and walking bent over was not something Marjorie
wanted to do again.  She had been here with my Brother Eric and I way back in 1965
when the boys were just a gleam in our eyes.   Marjorie did not think of the crawling
as an adventure.   I think she thought it was just a bit foolish…and dangerous.
Which was true.


Today, in 2021, the old mine is celebrated and the area is described in tourist
brochures as the Copper Coast.  Tours can even be arranged.  Not quite the same
as our explorations.


In 1960, Dr. Paterson entrusted me as a Field Man for Hunting Technical and Exploration Services…doing a geophysical survey for
Dennison Mines of Canada in Ireland just to see if it was possible to re open the old Knockmahon
mine.  He trusted me.  I never violated that trust.  There is something special about trust.

HURLING MATCH…ON THE BEACH IN WESTERN IRELAND

Ireland is a tourist heaven.   Easy to meet people and often replete with simple joys such
as when the boys joined a hurling match on an Irish beach.   The young Irish lad
was so enthusiastic describing hurling to big boys like Kevin and Andrew.  He was
very cute.





Old stone houses without roofs are plentiful.  Their history is often disturbing.


We stopped for dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy in Bunmahon.   In 1960 we rented
part of their rambling house as living quarters for our team.   Mrs. Kennedy became
a house mother.   A previous mining team had not been as gracious as we were she said.

While waiting for my equipment to arrive in 1960 a strange thing happened.   Kevin Behan and his family
looked after me. No relation to Brendon Behan. Their kids were great.  There warmth endures to this day.   Our son Kevin does not even know that this
is his namesake.  
The Dublin days are described in earlier episodes.

Mrs. Behan, suggested I go to see THE QUIET MAN with John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara which played continuously in a Dublin theatre.
After seeing the film I thought that Ireland could not possibly be like the move.   I was wrong.  My Irish experience was exactly like the movie
I recommend you find a copy … you will enjoy it even if for the second or third time.

Once upon a time a man…a kind of monk…lived here in the little domed structures many of which are common on
the Dingle and other west coast places.



Here is the Kenneay family as found in 1960.  Gerald, the little boy, was handicapped as you can see.  He was a never ending
joy.  Followed me around a lot.  The whole family was wonderful.   Mrs. Kennedy kept me informed about proper behaviour and
insisted I go to mass on Sundays even though she knew I was Presbyterian.  She was correct.  Being at mass made me belong
to the community.  Our employees delighted in throwing Holy Water my way as I exited the church.   


This is just a snippet of our visit to Ireland around 1980.   It should be enough to make you wish you were with us.   Just finding the pictures has
transported me back in time.

I said at the beginning of this story that Marjorie and I knew our days with the boys were numbered.  They would soon 
carve out their own lives.  But they would not ever forget us.

Sure enough, a year or so after this Irish trip both boys left.  It was Oct. 7…damn close to Marjorie and my birthdays (9 and 16) that
the boys left.  Kevin headed for a job as an English teacher in Slovakia just as Czechoslovakia broke apart and the Berlin Wall was collapsing along with the Soviet Union.
Andrew and his friend Keith took off the opposite direction heading for Pacific Islands and then on to New Zealand and Australia…travelling
west with a variety of cars destined for scrap yards.  They stopped in Los Angeles to visit Victor Poppa (Last Flight of HX 313 episodes).
Victor carved wooden side windows for the car wreck they had at the time.

Guess what?

Both boys returned.

alan skeoch
June 2021
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EPISODE 352 THE CLIFFS OF MOHER, SOUTHERN IRELAND

EPISODE 352   THE CLIFFS OF MOHER, SOUTHERN IRELAND


alan skeoch
june 2021



One of our most delightful trips when our boys were old enough was a unscheduled
trip to Southern Ireland where I once worked (as you may know).  Today I would
like to give a sample of that trip…

The dominant feature were the Cliffs Moher and secondly Quealy”s Pub

If you have time and can find Irish musicians playing the Cliffs of Moher you will be transported
to that place in your mind. Wonderful spot.  Dangerous too.

More to come but very busy today.

alan

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EPISODE 351 “ALAN, I THINK WE HAVE A PROWLER”

EPISODE 351    OUR WILDERNESS IN PORT CREDIT — CAN BE INTIMIDATING

EPISODE 351     “ALAN, I THINK WE HAVE A  PROWLER” 

alan skeoch
June 10, 2021

“Alan, somebody moved the old dump rake .”


A MATTER OF CONCERN

We are cocooned in a wilderness in Port Credit.  I know that is hard to believe with so many
condominiums under construction.  But take a look at these pictures taken when Marjorie noticed
our ancient dump rake had been moved.   If you want to scare yourself then imagine someone
is hiding in the June undergrowth.

“Alan, some teen agers moved the old dump rake one day last week….ad last
night  I think we had a prowler.”

Last night Marjorie found our back gate forced…enough room for someone to slip through
and the sideboard gate was open allowing Woody to get out and find some garbage.

Here are some pictures of the back of our lot at Mary Fix Creek.    Lots of cover for
B and E people.

A MATTER OF PRIDE


I think we own one of the largest…if not the largest…trees in Mississauga.
Silver Maple that is nearly 9 feet wide at the base.


SEARCHING FOR A PROWLER

The closest I got to the prowler was the secret places where our coyotes live and maybe raise a family.  But there are also
trails where humans walk.   As well they should for this bit of forest is a treasure.  Prowler?   Impossible to find. Long gone.
A person of the dark night.   Or maybe just a nature lover lost in our sudden wilderness.  a person who wanted to reach
the pavement on the other side of our house.





Marjorie pulling wild garlic which she believes
it taking over our back lot.  She could make an Hawaiian Skirt out of the stuff.


alan skeoch
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EPISODE 360 ERNIE SUTCLIFFE AND THE FIREMAN’S LIFT AND OTHER 38TH ROVER CREW STORIES

EPISODE 360    ERNIE SUTCLIFFE AND THE FIREMAN’S LIFT AND OTHER 38TH ROVER CREW STORIES


alan skeoch
une 9, 2021


Search Results

Search Results


Search Results



I am not sure I should tell this story.  Some readers will not see the humour
and might be offended at the crude incident.   I know when it happened I did not know what was the
appropriate reaction.  Laughter? Disturbed facial expression?  Pretend it never happened and get
on with the show.?

THE SETTING:  Parent’s night for the 38th Boy Scout Troop.  Entertainment by the 38th Rover Crew

Runnymede Presbyterian Church trusted us.  We had a young congregation with dozens of young people
who actually came to church.  Once or twice a year Reverend Currie even asked a young person to
deliver the sermon.  Imagine that.  We tried not to disappoint.

On this particular evening I had the job of being MC.  Let me put this event in dialogue form.

“Good evening parents of the 38th,…”
(the lights in he hall dimmed.  Dinner plates had been collected)
“Tonight we have a special guest.   Ernie Sutcliffe is a member
of the Toronto Police Force and a friend of our Rover Crew.”
(Ernie steps from behind the curtain…polite applause)
Ernie has agreed to show us how to do the Fireman’s Lift.  In tough situations like
a burning house fire it is necessary for an officer to act fast to say
lives.  He will demonstrate how to get a person lying prone on the
ground up onto his shoulders fast and efficiently.”

“first thing we need Alan, is a volunteer”
“Boy Scout Bob Denny has agreed.
“OK, Bob, just lie down on the stage on your back.”
“Like this?”
“Correct…you can even close you eyes.”

“Now watch closely everyone…The Fireman’s Lift…works every time.”

“Show us, Ernie.”

“I just reach down and grab him by the crotch like this….”

In lightning speed Bob Denny flew into the air…using his own muscles…
and Erne caught him , flipped Denny onto his shoulder and strode off
the stage.   It happened faster than I could blink.  Ernie grabbed poor
Bob Denny by the balls and Denny jumped as high as Ernie’s shoulder.

I was flabbergasted.  How would all those parents react.

No worry there.  They were hooting and laughing …

Someday I will get the nerve to ask a cop…a Metro member of
Toronto’s finest…whether that is really the way they do the Fireman’s
Lift.   At the time I could not ask Ernie who left he church chuckling.

I am not sure how Bob Denny felt about the show.  Ernie was never
a member of our crew.  He showed up now and then.  

alan skeoch
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EPISODE 349 SHORT PANTS TO KILST….38T ROVER CREW CIRCA 1956

Note…some readers will identify with this story…having done similar things.
Others will be sorry they were born too late for that carefree life.



EPISODE 359     SHORT PANTS TO KILTS….38T ROVER CREW CIRCA 1956

                    (IN MEMORIAM TO BIG RED STEVENSON WHO WAS ALWAYS WITH US)

alan skeoch
june 2021

Oh, how I wish Big Red Stevenson was alive today.  He passed on before I could
assemble all these pictures of our 38th Boy Scout Rover Crew when we wore
our short pants, neck scarves and Mountie Hats.  Knee socks with tasselled garters. We were all such good friends
yet did not show it.  Our friendship was a reflex….present in our lives as much as a knee joint
or a lower jaw.  Principled, focussed and proud.  Short pants!  


Big Red Stevenson must have taken this picture.  Jim Garde Jr., Alan Skeoch, Don Strathdee
and Doug Mason…all stroliing down a gravel road of semi-abandoned farms near Van Dorf….just
a short distance north of Toronto.  Gone now…was about to become a subdivision in 1956.

Those were the days…indeed, those were the years…when we were teen agers
and proudly Boy Scouts then Rover Scouts.   The years when friendships were formed
on camping trips organized on whim.  

 “Let’s go camping this week end”
“Rover uniforms or civillian clothes?”
“Etobicoke or Lake Simcoe”
“Driven or should we thumb our way?”
“Easier to thumb it.”


USING THUMB TO HITCH RIDES ANYWHERE…EASY TO DO IN 1950’S

Easy to get rides using the thumb if there were only 2 or 3 of us.
When the whole Crew went together we needed big time planning.

That’s Big Red Stevenosn on my right.  We were heading for Lake 
Simcoe…straight north on Highway 401 …travelling light…no tent,
no pots, no pans…our plan was to sleep on picnic tables I think…turned out
not to be a good idea…did that only this one time, never forgot.


Those were the 1950’s when we were young.   Most of my close friends were
members of the 38th Boy Scout Troop and Rover Crew.  We were a little different
than other Scout Troops in that we were not really badge collectors.  We were not
into the one upmanship race to see how many little round patches could be sewn
on our shirts.  Most of the evening Scout and Rover meetings were spent playing
dodge ball and  hoping not to be hit by Harvey Scott who could really wing the ball.

 We lived to go camping.  Any season…even the depths of winter on
snowshoes we flip-flopped  plodded our way into Nine Mile Lake north of Perry Sound.



WE CONVERTED OUR SHORT PANTS FOR KILTS…CAMPBELL OF ARGYLE PATTERN

Our leader, Ed Hisson, suggested we become a kilted crew and so
we managed to do so.  Expensive but worth it.   Picture left to right..
Ed Hisson,  Jim Garde Jr., Gord Clarke, Ted Christianson, Ross Stevenson,
Doug Mason.

(Ed Hisson as in ‘listen, listen, Hisson’s pissing’…Ed was a selfless kind
of man…seemed as young as we were although married with kids of his own.)

FIND BIG RED STEVENSON….SEE HOW MANY TIMES HE APPEARS.

I WILL really miss Ross Stevenson. He was such a loyal friend for most of my life.
It is hard to believe he is gone

alan

  






WE sang a lot.   yes, we did.  “We were rough and ready guys
                                                 But, oh, how we could harmonize 
                                                 Heart of my heart, I love that melody….”
Big Red and many of us joined the Runnymede Presbyterian church choir
when we were young.   I was booted out by pretending to sing bass and
telling Mr. Shanahan “my voice had changed”.  Big Red sang in choirs
all his life.   He never made a big deal out of it…just joyful expressions.
HE was still singing when he died.  I remember one song we loved to sing
on camping trips, a Mills Brothers song.  “Up a Lazy river in the noon day sun
                                                                  A lazy, lazy river when the work is done”
(Maybe not the exact words…we changed words sometimes.)    Today I find
it hard to believe that we sang so much.   



Doug Mason was always ready for a challenge.  In this case swimming in a cold river
around Easter time.  Doug and the rest of us attended the World Scout Jamboree
in Niagara on The Lake.   Doug outdid himself.  He came home in his pyjama after
trading all his uniform to American Scouts who admired our RCMP look.


Last night I was thinking about the shows we put on to entertain parents of the Scouts and Cubs.  One show
got out of hand when Ernie Sutcliffe volunteered to demonstrate the Fireman’s Lift which he had just learned
as a new member of the Metro Police force.  I will hold that story back.   I need to work up my nerve to tell the story.
Bob Denny (boy in sweater) volunteered to be the patient.  He wished he had not done so.  Story coming tomorrow.





We were not aways the wisest of rover crews in Toronto as noted above
where we took a job to remove a tree.  Incompetent.   yes, for sure.  And
when a block of wood from the tree broke one of the owners concrete slabs
he refused to pay us.



In this picture we have rushed from the cabin to wash up before breakfast I think.
Or maybe we wanted drinking water right from the source.





Ross Stevenson never missed a camping trip.  In this case it was so cold that
we were reticent to take off our coats in the cabin.   No, I must be wrong for  we
are still wearing our snowshoes.   I bought a bottle of Catawba wine for a dollar.
That was stupid. Disorienting.  I could not tell up from down and went head first into
snowdrifts only to be hauled out by Big Red.  By this time we were 18 years old and
really stupid at times.  




Marg phoned to let me know that Big Red had died in his sleep.  “Just slipped away.”  Then she turned up with a large bird house Red had
been building for me.  The wood work was perfect.  A work of art.  No bird will ever sleep in it.  I had no idea Red was
creating something for me.   He was that kind of person.   Selfless…enjoyed the company of others…giving.  God,
I miss him.

POST SCRIPT

MARjorie joined the Rover Crew




Amazing how Marjorie fitted in so perfectly.  She liked my friends from the get go.  And they liked her.  


When Marjorie became a big part of my life she joined our Rover Crew and all the
people that were associated with the crew.  Marjorie is 4th from the left in a black dress.
Red Stevenson back row.  His mom, Mrs. Stevenson second row first person from right.
She loved to laugh. In my mind I still hear her.  None of us had much money but
never noticed.  Salt of the earth as the Bible says.  I can say that having never read
the Bible.


ALAN SKEOCH