Alan Skeoch

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  • Fwd: EPISODE 210 “NEW ZEALAND AIR AMBULANCE NEEDED” (ANDREW SKEOCH, HEAD ON COLLISION)



    Begin forwarded message:


    From: ALAN SKEOCH <alan.skeoch@rogers.com>
    Subject: EPISODE 210 “NEW ZEALAND AIR AMBULANCE NEEDED” (ANDREW SKEOCH, HEAD ON COLLISION)
    Date: December 27, 2020 at 7:41:44 PM EST


    EPISODE 210    ” NEW  ZEALAND AIR AMBULANCE NEEDED”  

    alan skeoch
    Dec 2020

    Dateline:  Dec. 1992
    Place:  90 mile beach, Cape Rainga, North Island, New Zealand


    “Christ Almighty…there going to hit us head on!”
    “KABOOM…”
    “JESUS…JESUS…ANYONE DEAD?”



    WE loved that car…but it was scrap in the twinkling of an eye.




    “Christ Almighty…there going to hit us head on!”
    “KABOOM…”
    “JESUS…JESUS…ANYONE DEAD?”

    Excuse the profanity if you can.  People in crisis often appeal to Jesus whether they
    are believers or not.  Two cars smashing together on a New Zealand near empty 
     highway should have  been  deadly.  Head on!  Head light to headlight…engine to
    engine.  Glass shattered by heads hitting.  Metal folding like cardboard.  Blood flowing
    like water.  Voices screaming for the Almighty.  Jesus!  Jesus! Both cars held young people
    who were fit.  Bashed, broken, bleeding … all alive but needing medical treatment
    immediately.  This was not a good place for a head  on collision.  Not that
    there is ever a good place for that.   Andrew Skeoch and  Keith Merker along
    with two girlfriends had  been windsurfing on 90 mile beach on the west coast
    of New Zealand’s North Island.  Carefree.  Two Canadian  boys on their chosen
    world  tour.  Two New Zealand  girls enjoying the exhilaration of youth.  No one
    dead but injuries were grievous.  Four Kiwis in the other car…girl with broken arm.

    “Hello, Air Ambulance!  Get a chopper up to tip of 90 mile beach right away.
    Car accident.  Head  on for Christ’s sake.”
    “How many hurt?”
    “They are all hurt but three girls need to get to Auckland fast.”
    “And the boys?”
    “Send an ambulance…quick. Two Canadian lads.”
    “It will take hours to get there and get back to hospital.”
    “We are stabilizing the  boys.”
    “Who is speaking?”
    “Police Officer Clark”
    “Police  Officer?’”

    “Archie Moore…”
    “Are you sure you’re OK?”  Any others hurt?”
    “Everyone was hurt.  Joanne has a broken jaw.  






    “How did it happen?”
    “Looks like one  car was rounding a hairpin on wrong side of the road.”
    “Canadians?”
    “No, Kiwis…”
    “Sounds like it could have been fatal.”
    “Bloody true…lucky the cars were big…some  protection.   And the kids are fit.”
    “Any danger of delayed shock?”
    “Don’t think so…that danger was  over long ago.  They were not 
    found  for a couple of hours.  All  are conscious.”
    ‘We’ll send an investigator…mind if a reporter tags along?
    “No…get a move on, goddamnit.”




    Marjorie and I did not get a phone call from Andrew  until a couple of  days had
    passed.  He  wanted us to know.  Nothing hidden.  Feared over reaction.

     But both he and Keith were hurt
    and in the Aukland  hospital.  To phone right away, he  felt, would cause panic back home.
    In the meantime the boys had to make a big decision.  They could be flown back to Canada.
    Insurance covered that if necessary.  Two days passed by  and  they were mending.  Andy had
    his nose nearly severed and  Keith had the steering column rammed into his lower body.  Injuries that
    seems bad when their heads went through the windshield.  But two days later seemed OK.

    CHRISTMAS DAY 1992

    “Hi Mom, how are things back  home.  All ready for Christmas i bet.”
    “Oh, Andrew, how nice to hear from you.  How is the world adventure going?””
    “Bit of a problem.  We got in a car accident…”
    “Nooooo!”
    “But we are fine.  Bruised…mending.”
    “Any others hurt?”
    “Everyone hurt…some worse than others.  Joanne has a broken jaw.  Claire
    has a lot of soft tissue injuries.  Both girls and one from the other car flown to
    Auckland by air ambulance.  The car is a write off.”

    BEFORE THE HEAD ON COLLISION


    ON Oct. 7, 1992, both of our sons left home.  To say it was a surprise is an understatement.
    Kevin had  taken a job with the American School teaching English in Bratislava, Slovakia.
    The Soviet Union had just collapsed and Eastern Europe was in chaos.  Most citizens  of
    Slovakia were looking westward to places like Canada and the United States for help. Most.
    Not all.  There still remained many supporters of the communist ideal.  We felt Kevin was
    stepping into a morass.  As he was.

    Andrew, on the other hand, and his friend  Keith Merker had decided to head westward. 
    “Where are you going, Andrew?” 
    ‘ Across Canada, down to Los Angeles  and then
    across the Pacific…island hopping to New Zealand.”
    ‘Money?”
    “We have some.  Get jobs  along the way.”
    “Sounds a little chancy.”
    “if I get in a tight corner, I will call.”
    “No car?”
    “We will buy wrecks…cars  heading for the scrap heap.”

    And they did.  One car they bought in the U.S. had no side
    windows so when they dropped  in on Victor Poppa’s place in California he
    made them Wooden windows.   On a side venture to Arizona they 
    were advised  to get out of the state by a friendly police officer. “Stick around
    here with that car and meet a different cop…you will wish you never heard
    of Arizona.”
    John Steinbeck, were he still alive, would have added a  chapter
    in either East of Eden  or the Grapes  of Wrath.

    Island hopping across the Pacific…Figi and so many others…turning
    to road kill for supper on one occasion.  Never cooked the thing though
    the thought seriously about it.  Island hopping.

    This was the way they ended up at 90 mile beach on the North Island
    of New Zealand.  Let me tell the story from Andrew’s own words.



    “We bought the four door Ford for $2,000 which was all the
    money we had.   No worries for we felt we could sell it for
    that money or more when we were done.  It was a great car for
    a surfing holiday.  We met Joanne and Claire and  pooled  our 
    resources.   We had the car. They had  the food  money. Nice 
    girls who had  won a lottery. Surfed all  day in shark water..
    We drove for miles up the beach…as far north as we could go
    to Cape Rainga.  Car got stuck trying to clear a sand dune
     so we had take a run at the dune to bust out onto the road.

    Then one hour later on a hairpin curve a New Zealander was cutting
    the curve  and hit us dead  on.  I flew through the wndow cutting my nostril
    in half.  Keith crumpled the steering wheel  with his body and  sliced his kneecap.
    Joanne  broke her jaw on the head rest.   Claire had soft tissue injuries to
    most of her body.   In the other car a girl in back seat broke her arm.  Boys
    in front were protected by the seat belts.  I know..I know..we  should have buckled.

    We collided at 6 p.m. but did not get help until two hours later.  No traffic up
    Road ends at the ocean…goes nowhere. Eventually some cars came. Wrapped
    girls in bedrolls…chills, maybe shock.   Policeman named Archie Clark came and called for an air
    ambulance for the girls and ground ambulance for Keith and me.  We did not
    reach hospital until midnight.  Next day there was an article about the crash
    in the Aukland Herald.

    The investigation concluded we were not at fault (which is easy to see in photos).
    We then had to decide whether to head back  to Canada or wait out the injuries
    and continue.   I waited a few days before calling you.  Afraid to spoil your Christmas.
    Then Archie Clark offered to take  us to his farm over Christmas.  He found us
    jobs and fed us.  Boar hunting with his sons.  After that we headed for the south island and then over to
    Australia.  You sent us some money and we made a little washing storefront 
    windows wherever we  went.  All we needed was a couple of  squeegees and
    a pail.   

    The girls?  We never  saw them again although I keep in touch with
    Joanne on Facebook.   Both girls are married with children as are  Keith 
    and me.  I wonder  if  there are many police  officers like  Archie Clark.”




    FACEBOOK NOTE FROM JOANNE

    Hi Andy, 
    You havent changed a bit!!!I found my box of travelling stuff in the loft yesterday and thought i would see if i could find anyone! Hard to beleive it was over 18 years ago. It was only last year that i had to have jaw surgery to correct my bite since the crash. Hows your nose?
    Do you still see Keith. I see Claire, she lives around the corner from me and our children go to the same school. She is still travelling all over the world as an air hostess for BA. She is married to Andy has Ben whos 10 and Jessica who is 7. 
    How is life with you? I see from your photo you are still surfing!!!
    Love to hear from you
    Love Jo






    WHEN MARJORIE AND I TOOK ANDREW  TO NEW ZEALAND…hardly any danger of a speeding collision











    Kiwi birds are hard to find.  This one was attracted to the beer bottle between my legs I think.


    Campgrounds in New Zealand are wonderful…full kitchens.


    That was sometime around  1993.  The years when the Soviet Union was collapsing.  We were able to experience
    the collapse first hand when our other son, Kevin, called to ask  us over to Slovakia for a week…which also
    turned out to be a grand adventure.

    alan skeoch
    Dec. 1990


  • EPISODE 209 TRAPPED … WITH THE INCOMING TIDE IN NEW ZEALAND

    Note:  Episode 208 will  come a little later.  It is complicated and
    needs  a little more research.  while  combing through my pictures
    I came across these two photos…reminded me of an adventure i
    had almost forgotten.

    EPISODE  209    TRAPPED…WITH THE INCOMING TIDE

    alan skeoch
    Dec.  2020


    Some time ago
    Andrew, Marjorie and I decided  to explore some hidden  beaches on the
    east side of New  Zealand’s North Island… Taranga location.  Not very 
    far from the the Maori grave of  my cousin Roy Skeoch whose Maori wife, Anna
    and family we came to see.  

    Black volcanic rocks with glass like needles rose  sharply above the beautiful beaches.

    We did not pay much attention to the fact that those beaches were
    getting  smaller and smaller and the surf was at the same time
    becoming angry.

    Too late.  Our escape route was  closed…no footpath remained… just churning
    surf.  Our only escape was  over the volcanic base of Mount Taranga.

    We thought it was funny at first.  Then we became aware that there
    was no place to hide.  Marjorie got a bit ripped.  In the end Andrew
    carried Marjorie over the rocks.  That gave me a chance to get
    two fast pictures.   Afterwards we decided to name our kitten Taranga
    in memory of this bit of surf and rock and  churning water.





    New Zealand is very safe for tourists.  Great long beaches on both sides of
    the islands.  Accessible.  The only danger, apparently, is from a tiny toxic
    spider that lives under the rocks.

    Well, not the only danger.

    Shortly after we returned to North America with Andrew he decided to go back
    to New Zealand with his friend Keith Merker.   Both of them kids who would turn
    into young men while exploring the world  around them.  The danger?  The greatest
    danger they faed in New Zealand came from fellow human beings.   

    And at the same time the greatest rescue they experienced  also  came from
    a human being…a New Zealand police officer.

    I will try to put that story together.  I have the pictures.   

    The pictures of this wild surf reminded me of those days and the adventures
    we shared.   Our other son, Kevin, could  not go with us as he was a student
    at the University of Toronto at the time.  He would have his own adventures  on
    the other side of the world that might interest you.  Again…I have the pictures.

    alan skeoch
    Dec. 2020




  • EPISODE 207 WOODEN FIRE ENGINE…ATTRACTS CHILDREN



    EPISODE 207     WOODEN FIRE TRUCK…ATTRACTS KIDS

    alan skeoch
    Dec. 2020



    “What are  you doing in the garage, Alan?”
    “Building a fire engine.”
    “Fire engine?”
    “Got the parts at a farm sale…parts  that looked to me  like a fire engine.”

    Took me a couple of weeks to get this fire engine assembled and painted.
    The very day we  Wheeled it out to the front lawn a  huge load of  kids 
    arrived.   Came like bees smelling nectar.   I counted11 of them..may have 
    been more.


    But where is Andrew?  Lots of kids…10 of them, but where is Andrew?


    “Here I am Daddy.”

  • EPISODE 206 LOBSTER TRAP RESCUE IN STRAIT OF BELLE ISLE, NEWFOOUNDLAND

    EPISODE 206  THE LOBSTER TRAP RESCUE  IN THE STRAIT OF  BELLE ISLE, NEWFOUNDLAND

    alan skeoch
    Dec. 24, 2020

    GIFT TO ANDREW AND  KEVIN FROM DAD AND MOM (CHRISTMAS 2020)

    When you were little boys.  Before you became teen agers and would
    find  your parents less  dominant in your lives.  Before those teen  age
    years  which we thought might be  difficult.  (Which turned out to be  untrue.)

    Marjorie and I decided that the best gift we could  give you would be Canada.
    So we planned to give you Canada.  We  bought a used  pop up tent trailer made
    of chip board and canvas.  Camping seemed the best way to give you Canada.
    We wanted you to touch the earth.  We wanted  you to realize how lucky you’re
    to live in the second largest country on earth.

    That means at least two grand  trips.  First to the east to dip your feet in the Atlantic Ocean
    and then to the west to put bigger feet in the Pacific  Ocean.   The trips could have been
    miserable failures with us  pulling you across Canada like a pair of stubborn mules.

    So, for the first trip, we bought a  pair of handcuffs.   You were both going with us
    whether you liked  it or not.   The dogs too…Sonny and Daisy…both Labradors. And a lot of other stuff
    like  four bicycles, a Coleman stove, pile of groceries and a first aid kit.

    OUR TRIP TO NEWFOUNDLAND….2 KIDS, 2 DOGS,  4 BIKES, 1 TRAILER, 1 TRUCK, MARJORIE AND ME.






    The trip East was terrific.  Most of the trip you remember because you talk about it but this fragment you may have forgotten.
    We crossed  to Newfoundland on a big car ferry..overnight…sleeping with other Newfoundlanders on the floor as it lifted
    and  fell.  Then we drove west to Gros MorNe Park where another ferry took us over  a short patch of water.  Remember the fish and
    chip store?  Real Newfoundland fried fish.   Complete with a long white worm in my chunk which amused you both.


    Then we drove  up the coast alongside the Strait of Bell Isle heading towards St. Anthony and the wonder of the Viking
    settlement at L’Ans aux Meadows.  Eric  the Red had landed and lived here 400 years before Columbus.

    We  camped part way up the road.   Alone on the Newfoundland shore.



    “You boys own this country…did  you know that?”


    This story is about that camp.   By then the four bicycles strapped on the front of the truck were becoming a hazard so
    we gave two of them to a Newfoundlander we met.  He was overjoyed.   Told us about the water.  “Whales out there…lots  of
    them.  And lobsters by the truckload.  And codfish.  A good land, mind you.”   We had camped earlier on the west 
    side of Newfoundland and seen thousands of tiny fish flip flopping and eventually dying on the rocky beaches.
    Newfoundlanders gathered buckets of them  and hung them  on clotheslines with pegs.  “Good eating…that’s why
    the whales are after them.  They try to escape and end up on the beach.  Millions of them survive but millions
    also die.  Good eating.”

    “Any capelins here on the Strait of  Belle  Isle>”
    “Nope but lots of other creatures.”
    “How do you  make a living?”
    “Lobsters…trap them in season…sell them  to the three piece suit 
    people  back in Toronto.”






    Here,  a bushel  or two of live capelin have attracted  DAISY AND SONNY … dogs that became a fisherman.




    This was a nice camping spot so we stayed  for two days or longer.

    That was  when we discovered the lobster traps…dozens of them washed up on the rocky shore.


    Some smashed all to hell


    Others that were perfect.  





    “Let’s see how many lobster traps we can collect, boys…stack  them up neatly.”
    “Can we fill the truck with them, Dad?”
    “Sure…pile them on the roof…three or four high…see
    how they hold when we rev the truck up to 70 miles per hour.”
    “What can we do with them?”




    “Alan, there’s a fishing village up the shore a bit.  I bet these
    are their traps.  Maybe we can carry them back to them.”

    “And so began our Lobster Trap Rescue Episode.”










    “These must be your lobster traps?”
    “Reckon they could be.”
    “We have gathered up a pile of them way up he shore…done this for you…
    we even carried some  to your village.”
    “Wish you had not done that boys.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because we get a  government grant to cover
    lost lobster traps.  The more you boys bring
    back here,  the less we get.  Understand?”

    Kevin and Andrew did not understand.

    The  Newfoundlanders had a better idea.

    “How  would you boys like to meet a whale?”
    “Meet a whale?”
    “Sure…we can motor out a ways and meet a whale for  sure..
    maybe more than one.   Ask your mom and  dad.”


    And so we went whale searching…using a little motor boat…outboard motor.  Just enough
    room for the four of us  and the Newfoundland crew of one.   Low in the gunwales.



    I did not expect we would meet a whale.  But I was wrong.  We met two or
    three.  Animals  far bigger than our little boat.  Animals that seemed to
    know where we were.



    “Remember what you did when  one whale  swam up and under our boat, Andrew?”
    “What?”
    “You dived down on the floor of the boat and would not look.”
    “I Felt like joining you”


    “Dad,  do we really own this country…this Canada?”
    “We do…we really do.”
    “Makes me feel  good, dad.”


    /


    alan skeoch
    Dec. 2020

  • EPISODE 205 MANURE SPREADER AND SOME SKEOCH BOYS

    EPISODE  205     MANURE SPREADER AND SOME SKEOCH BOYS


    alan skeoch
    Dec.  2020

    EARTHY is the best word I can you to describe those visits to the Skeoch farm on
    the southwest corner of Fergus.  Earthy for sure.  “Would you fancy a beer, Alan?”
    And Uncle Norman would lead the way to the barn stable where he kept a case
    of Molson’s Golden tucked  under the hay of the first manger.  Why there?

    Because Norman’s sisters had ‘taken the pledge’ so to speak.   Temperance
    people.   Nice people…warm, hearty, educated, informed, leaders.  All of  this
    including  the deep belief that beer and  other alcohols were a blight on the
    country.   

    That was a good thing.  Kept visitors out in the barn where stories always
    seemed richer than  around the kitchen table.


    Left to Right:   The  Skeoch Manure spreader, long retired but still admired,  then  Uncle Norman Skeoch (my Dad’s youngest brother),
    the Jake Raison (first husband of cousin Jean Skeoch…Jake played box Lacrosse), Bruce Skeoch, Hubert Jim Skeoch (brothers from
    the Skeoch farm on the North east side of Fergus), and finally Long John Skeoch … possible  to play dominoes  on his pants.

    HOTTER THAN A PEPPER SPROUT

    Jake and cousin Jean got married in Mimico.  One of the best weddings I ever attended.  All the Skeoch men were there in the back rows
    of the church while the Skeoch women were attentively listening to the minister at the front.   My brother, Eric, sat  beside me for
    a  while then he just disappeared.  Uncle Archie or Uncle Norman had reached under the pew, grabbed him by the ankle and
    hauled  him in a game of  ‘pass the kid’  to other uncles and hangers on until Eric  got close to the women when he was released.

    What a wedding.  Uncle Art and Aunt Mary and the Rawsons had rented a hall not far from the church.  It had a  kitchen 
    walled  off from the main hall using thick paper board.  I know it was paper  board because Uncle Ernest (who  was really a cousin)
    came smashing through the wall … pushed  hard by Dad (Arnold  Skeoch)  as they argued  about politics, or sports, or anything
    worth arguing about.  In my mind I still see  his body as a kind of ‘cut out in paper board’ which made  a new door to the kitchen.

    Aunt Elizabeth, Aunt Greta,  Aunt Lena and  mom  acted  like mother ducks protecting ducklings.  They were determined that
    the children  should  not enter the kitchen while the discussion was happening.  Someone had got beer into the hall.

    Uncle Ernest’s wife, Aunt Ayleen, had the warmest laugh  of anyone I had ever met.  She was an Arawak
    from the Caribbean…loved us…she was a  hugger.   I don’t know how she
    reacted when her husband smashed through the wall.  I do remember, however, that Ernest and Ayleen drove
    mom, dad and us home that night.  Laughing. No hard  feelings.  No.  I do  not know who paid  for the wall.

    What a  great wedding…”Hotter than a pepper sprout” but eventually ‘the fire went out.”

    See Hubert Skeoch next to long John.  he was in the air force in  World War II.  Somehow he
    got his teeth knocked out and they were replaced with some kind of plate.  He would swirl 
    the plate around  in his mouth for the Amusement of Eric  and me when he lived with
    us at 18 Sylvan  Avenue.  He hated the name Hubert…wanted us to call him Jim…which
    we never did.

    Long  John Skeoch and I  got the unpleasant job of being the executors of the Norman  Skeoch estate.  
    We presided over the selling of the Skeoch farm and  all the equipment.  Norman  left the farm to all
    his brothers and sisters  which was the death knell of the farm.  Had to be sold.  Sad  ending.  Wish I had the sense
    to buy that manure spreader.  

    Bruce Skeoch  was the historian of the bunch.  Father to Lloyd and Vernon.  He Kept the records as best he could.   The Skeoch women kept
    a lot of the records as well.  When i showed an interest Aunt Elizabeth loaned  me the letters sent back
    and forth to Scotland  in the 1840’s .  I laboured  long and hard transcribing them.  Maybe I got a little to 
    close to the truth behind the Skeoch  migration.  Aunt Elizabeth got them them back.

    alan skeoch
    Dec. 2020