Month: July 2021

  • EPISODE 388 ROAD JUST DID NOT LOOK GOOD … UNTL OUR HIBISCUS GREETD

    EPISODE 388   ROAD JUST DID NOT LOOK GOOD … UNTL OUR HIBISCUS GREETED


    alan skeoch
    july 13. 2021

    TWO WAYS OF LOOKING AT RAINDROPS…BETTER TITLE



    “Alan, this storm is bad…cannot see as I drive…should I pull over?
    “too dangerous…cars behind will drive over us…keep moving.”
    “Why did they decide to reconstruct the road?”
    “To test your driving skills Marjorie.”





    “Alan, I can’t see the road….driving blind.”
    “Try prayer.”




    “Road blocked…just as rain eased….”
    “Power of prayer”


    Not exactly comforting to find this blocking the road just as the rain eased up.

    And then we were home and raindrops began to look charming


  • EPISODE 386 YOUR HOME ON NATIVE LAND…BOOK I WROTE ON FIRST NATIONS PEOPLE…SAD RESULT

    EPISODE 386     YOUR HOME ON NATIVE LAND…BOOK I WROTE ON FIRST NATIONS PEOPLE…SAD RESULT


    alan skeoch
    July 2021




    When I wrote ‘Your Home on Native Land’, I was quite proud of the result.   I felt I was doing my small bit
    to right the wrongs suffered by our First Nations people.  Well, the old adage that pride goeth before a fall
    soon deflated my pride.  




    “Dad, you must publish your stories.  Get an agent.”
    “Kevin, I do not want to go through that grief.”
    “But the stories are good.””
    “So say you…an agent, then a publisher will put them through
    a meat grinder along with my soul, if I have a soul.  I would rather
    just muddle along and hope someone actually reads the stories
    on the internet.”

    Writing is a tough and thankless job that triggers more criticism than compliments.
    I wonder why so many people actually write and publish books only to have
    the manuscripts taken apart…sometimes brutally.  I have been on both ends
    of this.   For a few years long ago, I was the book critic for the OSSTF BULLETIN.  Loved
    doing the evaluations but now wish I had held back some of my smart ass comments.
    Those comments hurt people.  I wish it had not been so.  I was young and thoughtless.
    One book in particular should have been treated better.  Title? I think it was about an owl
    and life experience.   I rushed the review…said things that must have hurt the author.
    Regret that deeply even now … the review was 50 or so years ago. Very few ever
    read it thankfully.

      So far I have authored and co-authored
    around 13 book and several filmstrip histories (Filmstrip?  That word means nothing today).
    All the books had to grind their way across the burning coals of criticism.

    “Alan. you must be a rich man from the royalties!”

    What a joke.  The Canadian writer, Hugh Garner, framed one of his
    royalty checks.  It was somewhere around $2.50!    He cursed about that
    in his book ‘One Damn Thing and Another’.  I know the feeling having received
    such a check myself.  Today publishes do not send out such checks. Ten dollar
    minimum royalty to get a check.

    Some checks were larger and reasonable but no check
    was ever humungous.  Young writers should never quit their day jobs.  Any author
    will tell you that. (Publishing is a tough game as well…involves investing lots of
    cash that may never return.)

    Advice: “Write because you want to write…as if you have something
    worth saying.  Never expect a financial reward.  That will keep you sane
    and reduce the number of expletives you will use.”


      This book titled
    YOUR HOME ON NATIVE LAND comes to mind.   Never seen a copy?  Little wonder since the
    book was likely ground into paper dust several years ago.  Before that happened
    the publisher, Jackie Stewart, delivered 30 copies to our house.  Most are still here.


    The legends of our indigenous people are fascinating and plump with meaning.
    Particularly the Legend of Creation which is told something like this”

    LEGEND OF CREATION

    “High above the clouds lived the Sky People
    One day, a crack appeared in the sky a hole, where
    a big tree had fallen over.
    Sky Woman , who was pregnant, looked down through the hole…slipped
    and fell.
    As she fell, a pair of loons saw her and caught her on their backs, saving her
    from drowning.
    But they could not hold her, so they cried for help.
    Then a great SNAPPING TURTLE emerged fro the water world and 
    Sky Woman dropped on the turtle’s back.
    But his back, though large, was not large enough to hold
    her forever.
    So all the creatures of the water and air were called to a meeting to see
    what they could do for Sky Woman.
    The snapping turtle said, “We must have some earth.”
    And so the beaver and the muskrat and all the birds that could
    dive tried to get some mud from the bottom of the ocean.
    They failed.
    Then the great snapping turtle found some mud already lodged
    in a hidden place in its own mouth.
    “Here is some mud.Rub it on the edges of my back and it will grow.”
    They did, and the turtle’s shell grow to become the land we know
    as North America.*

    (*First Nation story tellers of eastern North America repeated versions of this story
    …with the same core truths…expressed
    orally,  hence variations.   Indigenous people of western North America used
    ravens in their legends.)

    THINK ABOUT IT:  GIANT SNAPPING TURTLE and PLATE TECTONICS

    The Legend is not that much different from the scientific
    explanation of plate tectonics…great masses of rock floating
    above the earth’s liquid magma.   One touching theme in the
    legend is First Nation respect for all living things on the earth…
    and also recognition of women as leaders.


    MY THOUGHTS AS I BEGAN TO WRITE

      Why did I choose a boy rather than a girl?  Boys, in my
    experience teaching high school for 30 years, just do not read as well as girls.  So I wrote a book
    that I hoped boys would read as well as girls.  I created an indigenous boy to tell the story of his people. He asked
    questions that his wise grandmother answered.  All using first person dialogue between the boy and his grandmother.

    Seemed like a good idea.  It was not.


    End of story.

    Well not quite the end.  If I had not taken on the task I would never have got the
    phone call that led me to the Lubicon Cree…a small tribe that was forgotten.
    Next story.

    alan

  • EPIODE 385 WALL PAINTINGS BY MR. KUNA…ISLINGTON

    EPISODE 385     WALL PAINTINGS BY MR. JOHN KUNA…ISLINGTON


    alan skeoch
    July 2021


    This could have been my grandfather, Ed Freeman…trying to make a living selling produce from his tiny farm near
    Islington in 1908.  Tough times.   Sold the farm and headed for Northern Ontario where conditions were worse…seemed
    all the north was on fire…bush fires.

    MARJORIE SKEOCH MAKES A DISCOVERY


    “Alan, I want to show you something wonderful..startling.”
    “Not another visit to the Salvation  Army used clothing store I hope.”
    “Don’t be silly…I want you to see the street art gallery by John Kuna on brick walls of Islington.”

    “Islington … that was where granddad Freeman first settled in 1908…tried
    to run a market garden.  Tough time.  Failed.”
    “You might see him in one of the paintings.” (SEE FIRST PAINTING…HORSES AND WAGON)

  • EPIODE 385 WALL PAINTINGS BY MR. KUNA…ISLINGTON

    EPISODE 385     WALL PAINTINGS BY MR. JOHN KUNA…ISLINGTON


    alan skeoch
    July 2021


    This could have been my grandfather, Ed Freeman…trying to make a living selling produce from his tiny farm near
    Islington in 1908.  Tough times.   Sold the farm and headed for Northern Ontario where conditions were worse…seemed
    all the north was on fire…bush fires.

    MARJORIE SKEOCH MAKES A DISCOVERY


    “Alan, I want to show you something wonderful..startling.”
    “Not another visit to the Salvation  Army used clothing store I hope.”
    “Don’t be silly…I want you to see the street art gallery by John Kuna on brick walls of Islington.”

    “Islington … that was where granddad Freeman first settled in 1908…tried
    to run a market garden.  Tough time.  Failed.”
    “You might see him in one of the paintings.” (SEE FIRST PAINTING…HORSES AND WAGON)

  • EPISODE 384 EXPERIENCES WITH INDIGENOUS PEOPLE…”OK, BOYS, PICK YOU UP IN SAULT STE. MARIE.”

    EPISODE 384     EXPERIENCES WITH INDIGENOUS PEOPLE…”OK, BOYS, PICK YOU UP IN SAULT STE. MARIE.”


    alan skeoch
    July 2021

    This story is too scattered…I know that.  Originally much longer but I cut
    a lot.   Included is a small indigenous story…an evening in a beer bar with 
    our First Nations employees. The point of the story.  That evening was Warm and friendly…
    as were most of my evenings with First Nations people in tiny communities across North
    America.

    Please excuse the scattered story line.  No time to cut even more. If you
    need a theme then consider the story a bit of Canadiana.  This was a 
    big year for Marjorie and me…marriage.  The money I earned in the bush
    was invested in our honeymoon.   Three months labour spent in four days.



    AFERNOON SUN, LAKE SUPERIOR…by Lawren Harris

    PIC ISLAND, LAWREN HARRIS…GROUP OF SEVEN
    Captures the hardness of some landscapes on Lake Superior…near Marathon



    This is the company town of Marathon looking out on to Lake Superior…strikingly
    close to the paintings of Lawren Harris (i.e. Pic Island…only  a few miles from
    the  town).  The town smelled bad…air saturated with H2S…hydrogen sulphide
    from the paper (cardboard) mill.  We set up camp in a gravel pit east of town.



    Summer of 1963 is hard to forget.  We were married that year and, believe it or not,
    Marjorie was not sure I would make it to the wedding.  Dr. Paterson had sent me with
    a crew to check out the mineralization around Marathon, Ontario.  That’s a long way
    from Toronto. I left all marriage arrangements to Marjorie.  

    To ensure my return for the August 24 wedding, Marjorie, her guardian Phyllis Morgan and my
    mother decided to come to our bush camp and drive me back to Toronto. 

     Everyone was in good
    spirits including the fellows in our crew.  

    But there was one problem.  Our linecutting crew was First Nations people from Heron Bay, a reserve
    near Marathon.  It was getting late in August and the boys had planned a trip to Sault Ste Marie…a drinking
    session in the bar at the Albert Hotel.  They had a ride down to the SAullt but no ride back to our camp.

    “Don’t worry, boys, I’ll drive down and pick you up;”

    There were two hitches in the plan.  

    HITCH #1:  The distance between Marathon and Sault Ste. Marie is 255 miles (411 km)….nearly
    a five hour drive.  A ten hour Drive there and back.  Not a big deal to residents of Northern Ontario.

    So away they went for the week-end .  Most of the time would be spent drinking beer and subsequent revelry.

    HITCH #2:  Marjorie, aunt Phyllis and my mom were staying at the Albert Hotel the same evening.
    I was not too sure how they would react to the ‘boys’ in the beverage room. Now, in retrospect, I should
    have introduced them.  Stuffy of me not to do that.

    Actually the whole experience was great.  I loved the lonely drive down to the Salt…even stopped twice
    for a swim.   Did so when my eyes began to wander.  One swim at Batchawana Bay.

    Meeting the ‘boys’ with all their friends was a great experience.   This was their turf…their friends…their week-end…
    and they were being picked up by their boss.   The term boss is not nice. I wondered how it would work.  No need.  The moment I arrived
    in the bar room there was a great whoop and the boys hustled me to a seat and bought me a couple of
    draughts.   The glasses of beer were tiny in the 1960;’s.  We socialized then the boys piled in the truck
    and we headed back to Marathon…255 miles North west on Highway #17.    Arrived late at night.  Dropped
    the boys of at Heron Bay then hit the sack in our  tent camp.

    Late the next afternoon the women arrived.     They loved the campsite and the Toronto crew.
    I think would hey have loved our Heron Bay crew,  Ojibwa First Nations, but they never met. My error.

    HITCH #3    We got married right on time.  The Marathon gang sent us a card table…good one,  lasted 40 years.






    The beach near Marathon, Ontario…with worn mountains in the distance.  The same mountains Lawren Harris saw and painted.