Alan Skeoch

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  • EPISODE 1,471; EMPATHY — DEMONSTRATED BY JOHN MORTON YEARS AGO at high park curling club., TOROTO.

    alan skeoch dec/ 18, 2025
    Some curling games are soon forgotten…others are hard to forget. This game happened years ago. John Morton threw an 8 ender. That means that my team had a terrible game. John Morton’s eight ender made me feel bad…embarrassing…humiliating.
    “We got an 8 ender!!!“ He began to yell. But he looked over at me. I was feeling lower than a snake in a rut. John cut off his jubilation…threw his arm around my shoulder and said:
    “Come on Al, I’ll buy you a beer.”
    That’s empathy in action.
    alan skeoch
  • EPISODE 1,470; TORONTO’S GRENADIER POND HOSTS 1993 GRAND MATCH OF CURLING (HIGH PARK CURLING CLUB)

    EPISODE 1,470; TORONTO’S GRENADIER POND HOSTS 1993 GRAND MATCH OF CURLING (HIGH PARK CURLING CLUB)



    EPISODE 1,470:  GRENADIER POND HOSTS GRAND MATCH OF CURLING   IN WINTER OF 1993

    alan skeoch
    december 17,2025


    <img id="” alt=”image029.jpeg” class=”Apple-web-attachment Singleton” style=”opacity: 1;” apple-inline=”yes” src=”https://alanskeoch.ca/wp-content/uploads/2026/04/4D741554-03D1-405A-A821-BCAC433F4624.jpeg”>


    “ALAN, let’s get a team together for the Grand Match of Curling on Grenadier Pond,” said Brad.

    So Brad Schneller, Mike Dent, Ed Werenich, THE WRENCH, and I became one of the 64 teams of curlers to venture on the
    ice of Grenadier Pond deep in the winter of 1993.  

    Was the winter ice able to hold 300 curlers, several sets of curling stones, and 1 bag piper blowing his heart out?

    Legend had the story that a bunch of British Grenadiers died trying to retreat from American forces in the War 
    of 1812 —  with their wheeled canons and assorted weapons.   If the legend was true (which it wasn’t) then
    their skeletons and their artillery pieces must be poking out of the mud deep down.  The pond is 15 feet deep
    with a bottomless layer of mud (not bottomless but that makes the legend more interesting).

    Our 1993 curling team dressed suitably in old bear, buffalo and raccoon skin coats were ready.  My son Kevin gave me a Russian
    field hat from the ill fated invasion of Afghanistan in the 1990’s.  The other 64 teams were  similarly fashionable.
    If the ice gave way we would all be planted dead — 15 feet down under.

    Just as our games got started in 1993 a snowstorm swooped down so a full count was never done.  64 x 4 x assorted hangers plus one piper equals = 
    a lot of dead bodies if the ice gave way.

    I think it was Paul White, High Park Curling Club, along with many others who hatched up the Grand Match to celebrate the club centenary.
    Did they check with insurance companies?  Good question.  Those who had doubts of our survival linedthe shores of
    the 35 acre pond on west side of 100 acre High  Park.  Maybe bets were made among these rubberneckers.

    As the snow deepened and the ice harder to find Mike Dent of our team volunteered his body as
    a giant broom with two guys dragging him at a right angles to the ice.   Earlier he had forgotten to let go of
    his rock and slid down the ice after his body hit the surface with a loud ‘whump !’.

    Fortunately our skip, Ed W, had a whisky filled hollow metal curling broom.  That provided false courage and warm guts.’

    Back at our High Park Curling Club the gutless wonders who refused risks toasted the memories of those of us who did not
    get off the ice in time.

    Right now I would like to propose toast to three of my teachers at Humberside who founded the club — Stuffy McInnis, Herb Tancock
    and the father of Duncan Green.  They would have joined us had they lived long enough.   Duncan Green offered me his dad’s curling stones
    which would  have  been used on the ice that winter day in 1993.

    Now let’s skedaddle through the twisted streets of Parkdale to the club which is hidden there.

    alan skeoch

    P.S>  Would an insurance company c0ver this venture?

    P>P>S>  Around 1995 we did a Radio Noon CBC story about Grenadier Pond in which Mike Smee,
    Christopher Thomas and I persuaded our boys to dive down to see if the snouts of ancient cannons remained.  Kevin surfaced
    “Nothing down there dad” while Andrew took his time “shoved my arm deep in the mud, no cannons, dad.”
    Marjorie did not think much of the hair brained idea.    What a grand story it would have been had 64 teams of curlers 
    fallen through the Ice in 1993.  Someone else would tell that story.

    The legend lives on.!




  • SOME PEOPLE YOU KNOW ARE TRUSTWORTHY…SIMON IS ONE OF THAT KIND. Hawaii trip Parkdale

    SOME PEOPLE YOU KNOW ARE TRUSTWORTHY…SIMON IS ONE OF THAT KIND.
    alan skeoch dec. 9, 2025
    Simon Cotter was president of our student council…a good leader. Good to be with. Fun. Lots of ideas. Independent…free wheeling.
    So when he asked speak to me privately I sensed it was trouble.
    “Sir, I’m in a bit of a jam.” “Unusual for you, Simon.” “Have you ever been to Hawaii? We need you desperately.”
    Simon thought he could organize a school trip on his own. Thirty students had been working all summer. Saving their money for a March break trip to Hawaii, The travel company assumed the trip was OK…i.e. had teacher chaperones. Simon was Simon…a free thinker. When the travel company discovered otherwise it was about to pull the rug out and take student deposits. He needed a chaperone.
    “OK Simon I will be your chaperone as long as 5 others come…all paying their own way, Marjorie and our boys Kevin, 8 years old, Andrew, 4 years old…and Mr and Mrs. Champion, British exchange teachers.’’ “Great sir, we needed a few more anyway,,,pack your bathing suit.”
    Once the trip became known, several staff members got alarmed…
    “Alan, you are asking for trouble. Simon may have Parkdale street kids coming….no telling what they might do.” etc. etc.
    (Parkdale street kids indeed were on the trip. They knew how to avoid trouble…best kind of kid to have on a trip. I did not like the term ’street kid’…revealed an upper crust attitude. Our principal was supportive. She trusted me. I trusted SIMON. His mom’s a trustee and his dad the a local anglican minister.)
    “Alan, the purpose of this trip is not education. The purpose is not, music history, art. The purpose is fun and fun can be very dangerous.”
    “ I trust Simon. He knows the risks.”
    Our boys, got out of bed early each morning to visit al the girls…loved them.
    EVENTS
    1) kids did not have a lot of money so were quite content to lounge on Waikiki beach with our children. Exotic experience. Middle of vast Pacfic Ocean. Lounging on ancient volcano with live volcano not far away.
    2) Trip to battleship Arizona where so many sailors were entombed.
    3) “What is that helicopter doing?. I asked a guy bobbing up and down on gigantic waves. All Parkdale swimmers were riding the waves with me…all save one!
    ’The Helicopter is spotting sharks and catching swimmers that get caught in the UNDERTOW!” Yikes! Get back to the beach.”I yelled,” and everyone save one did so. Erwin Beltran came along head first planting himself among the millions of coral shards. Marjorie and the boys unplugged Erwin. Lost his contact lenses.
    “Do a count…should be 17” “Count 16, sir…” “Simon is missing,”
    Sinking feeling…key member lost to shark maybe or, worse still pulled far offshore by current.
    “Here he comes…bloody back.” “Sorry sir…got caught in a coral grotto down the beach…..wave pushed me in ….hard to get out… scraped my back on coral but I am fine…sorry to cause alarm.
    There were undertow warnings but we never saw them…so exciting to swim in an ocean wave generated by the vast Pacific ocean.
    THAT’S IT…ONLY ONE ADVENTURE….ONLY ONE I HEARD ABOUT ANYWAY.
    alan skeoch dec. 13, 2-25
    QUESTION; Suppose Simon asked you to go as a chaperone…would you take the risks involved?
    If you want to scare yourself then talk to an insurance company,

  • EPISODE 1,469 ; NIGHTMARE ON A SCHOOL TRIP

    “SIR, WE ARE BEING FOLLOWED.”
    EPISODE 1,469: NIGHTMARE ON A SCHOOL TRIP
    Note; MOST school trips are smooth and trouble free. This trip was not.
    Sure enough, a carload of boys were hot on our tail. Not a good omen we had several teachers and one trustee of the Toronto Board of Education. March break, a week when we planned a school trip in this case a trip to Montreal.
    That was nearly 50 years ago and I forget the reason for the trip and most of the kids. Teenagers travelling under the thumbs of their teachers were unlikely to get into trouble. Right?
    That blue car had no thumb. So we began with a bad omen. I was a bit nervous. Our hotel was OK. at least it seemed that way until several odd reports happened.
    “Sir, there are ‘safes’ under the pillows.” Yikes! Not under my pillow. I checked. Just under certain pillows it seems. Could be one safe under one lonely pillow all the same we had to be careful.
    Boys on 4th floor…Girls on the sixth floor…teachers on the seventh floor. Separation. All chance of sexual actvity ruled out.
    I had a pile of papers to mark. Occasionally I glanced out the window. Montreal was calm.
    Then it happened. One hand appeared on our balcony. Then second hand…head…leg and foot…. A boy was climbing from the fourth to the sixth floor. He looked at me and said, “It’s OK, I know how to climb.” I froze. Said nothing. Did nothing to have the boy loosen his grip. His intentions were Platonic I hoped and wondered if the balconies all had climbers.
    Meanwhile, teachers were spending the night in front of the elevators. “Not a bit of trouble!” Little did they know about the climber. Imagine if he fell. I could not speak or move. Then he was gone. There were two to four girls in the room above ours…too many for a sexual encounter l reasoned. Best to keep my mouth shut.
    Were climbers hanging like live strings of spaghetti elsewhere? I never knew. A far worse event happened.
    “Sir, come quickly, a boy has overdosed…he’s unconscious.”
    “who is it?” “New student.” “What drug?””No idea, sir.” The room was full of students surrounding a kid. New kid for second semester. Flat out ; BEING drunk was bad enough…drugs were far more dangerous. “Call 911…we need an ambulance…now!”
    I rode with the boy…he did not move as the medic probed and took blood pressure. “I will call ahead … get a doctor right away.”
    “Are you the teacher?”’ “one of them.”. “We will have to pump his stomach…need permission…”
    I remember that terrible night. I sat alone all night at the end of a long corridor. At the other end doctors and nurses worked over the boy. Seemed to be four of them … seemed urgent. Hours. All night.
    “He should be OK now.” The boy was alive and well…he said nothing…no thanks to the people who may have saved his life. We took a taxi back to the hotel. “Has anybody phoned Mrs, Hambleton? “Yes, she says to send the boy back toToronto if he is able.” “He is able…out of danger. How did he get drugs?”
    That happened long ago. What I remember clearly is the contents of his suitcase. Everything was so neatly packed. Extra clothes…shirt that loooked brand-new…socks bundled. I guessed his mother loved him despite his stupidity. “Sending you home”.
    That was the last I saw of the boy. I don’t think he returned to school. A few months later he was arrested for gang rape I was told.
    “Remember his neatly packed suitcase?”
    “I remember it well and think of his poor mother trying to get her son lifted…loving her son despite his behaviour . Crying.
    alan skeoch Dec. 8, 2025
    p.s. I cannot remember why we took those kids to Montreal. It certainly was not an exercise in climbing or to find treasures under pillows or to get a stomach pumped…or to test a mother’s love for an errant son.
    This is not a happy story. Sorry . The next story is a happy one. I just had to get this story out of my memory…failed to do so.

  • EPISODE 1,463; THE GRADE 13 FIELD TRIP: BEER TRUMPED SKEOCH.

    EPISODE 1,463 : DO THE COUNT: THE GRADE 13,FIELD TRIP — SHOULD WE LEAVE SIX BOYS?
    “OK, do the count…should be 32 of you deadbeats.” “32, sir…let’s hit the road.”
    My grade 13 class was loaded. The kids were excited. Little wonder. It was the middle of May in 1970 and we were topping our Canadian history course with a field trip to Niagara On The Lake and the Brock Monument.
    The kids ranged in age from 16 to 18. Take a close look at that. I had some kids who could legally drink beer. This would be a big problem…a fumble by the quarter back so to speak. Namely me.
    First stop was Fort Mississauga built by black troops who were not entrusted with guns in the War of 1812 but were trusted with bricks from the ruins of Niagara on the lake.
    “Do a count! We should have 32.” “We have 35, sir, remember we got your wife and kids.” “Full count 35, right on the nose. The Brits and Canadians built another fort at the south end of the town and that is our third still” “Third stop? What about the second stop , sir.” “You will have two hours to get from Fort Mississauga to Fort George…take your time … this is a beautiful town with lots of shops and fast food joints all strung out along he NiagaraRiver. Enjoy yourselves. We will meet at Fort Geroge. They scattered like leaves in the wind. The boys moved fastest. Historic sites be damned. A few clustered around Marjorie and I. Some liked our kids, Kevin and Andrew. Mostly girls.
    Let me cut to the problem. At the south end of the town there existed a beverage room…a beer hall called the Duke of Wellington. Rather run down place in 1970. Today it is fancy hotel catering to affluent tourists. We passed it en route to the bus waiting to take us to the Brock Monument. Never gave the beer hall a second thought. “Do a count.” “29, sir.” “Count again.” “29,sir…six missing.”Can you see them coming?’” “sir…some of the boys stopped at the Duke for a few beers.” “ damn, damn, damn!!!
    We could not wait. Let the boys get home on their own? “Next stop the Brock Monument…the boys can get here if they can run for a few miles.”
    The boys came running …Thinking how in hell they would get back to Toronto. “Would Skeoch abandon us? Truth is, I don’t know what I would have done.
    “Do a count.” “35, sir…all here.”
    alan skeoch december 4, 2025
    P.S. What would you have done/? Leave six boys to fend for themselves? I gave them a good story to tell their grandkids. The good old days when beer was cheap and Skeoch was waiting.

    Which they did. By the time they reached the bus the beer in their guts waswellsloshed.