Month: June 2023

  • EPISODE 831 THE GIRL WHO KNEW HOW TO DRESS

    EPISODE 831    THE GIRL WHO KNEW HOW TO DRESS


    alan skeoch





    June 2023

    Back around 1990 I authored a book on the social sciences.  The publisher wanted a
    flashy cover and sent a photographer over to Parkdale for that purpose.  A flashy cover
    entailed getting the students involved.  So i was permitted to make an announcement over
    the PA the day before the photographer arrived.

    “Tomorrow a publisher is sending a camera person to our school in
    order to design a hard cover for a book.  The book is about you.  So it seems 
    only fitting that you become the cover.  I don’t know which picture will be
    selected … but some of you will be on that cover.  Meet me outside the school
    tomorrow at 3.30l

    One of our students knew how to become the cover girl.  She got all dressed up…wore a ice dress with polka dots.
    And sure enough she became the dominating figure on the book cover.

    Amusing?   It certainly was amusing to the staff and students.  Why?  Because she never
    wore a dress to school except on that day.

    alan skeoch
  • EPISODE 832 THE DAY PRIME MINISTER PIERRE TRUDEAU ARRIVED AT PARKDALE

    EPISODE 832    THE DAY PRIME MINISTER PIERRE TRUDEAU ARRIVED AT PARKDALE


    Alan skeoch
    june 2023





    There was a bi-election in the Parkdale riding around 1990.   I forget the exact year but that is
    not really the important part of the story.  I was teaching Civics to my Grade Ten class and 
    casually mentioned that it was possible to get a visit from the Prime Minister.

    “Would you like to meet Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau in person?”
    “Us?”
    “yes, there is a chance our Prime Minister would come to meet each of you peronsally.”
    “Not likely, sir. “
    “You might be right but Itink you are wrong.”
    “Why?”
    “I think if you…all of you…write a letter to Mr. Trudeau ….a letter inviting hime to our school.
    I think he might come to see you”  Worth a try anyway.   Let’s compose a letter.”

    And we did.  I made sure the letter was written by the class and not by me or any teacher 
    at Parkdale.  Maybe left in a couple of spelling mistakes just to prove the letter was authentic.

    And Presto!  next week we got a letter from Ottawa or perhaps it was a phone call.  Trudeau was
    coming to see and talk to my Grade Ten class.   The school went berserk.   Trudeau would meet
    all  of our students in the auditorium.   He would maKe a speech to them. Answer questions. It was made clear
    that the prime minister wanted to meet the students…not the teachers…not the adults.  he liked
    young people.  Loved the give and take in conversation with kids.

    This visit became a big deal.   Everyone was excited.

    The search dogs came the day before.   Officers searched every croner of the
    school to make sure there was no danger.  No bomb. Plain clothes men were present…anonymous
    in part.  Then Trudeau arrived in a bit of a motorcade up Jameson Avenue.   He was encircled
    by security people lest something untoward happen.  He was safe.

    Or so everyone thought.   But he was not safe.  Suddenly a girl dashed from the crowd of
    students greeting Trudeau and the motorcade.  She rushed the Trudeau car in a sudden
    burts of energy….by passed the security detail and planted a big kiss on Trudeau who
    grinned and marched into the school.

    The first thing he asked was where is the washroom.  He had to take a leak.  Then he
    proceeded to the auditorium where he spoke for a few minutes and then asked for
    questions.  

    My Grade Ten class was forgotten in he visit.  Questions were asked but they 
    were as bland as porridge.  A teacher committee tried to keep hostile questions
    from being asked.   The visit was nice but rather bland.

    I wished he had come up to Room 225 to really meet my class.  They were the 
    reason he visited Parkdale but that was lost in the jumble.   All the same our 
    school was flattered.   Our students felt important…all of them.

    And one girl out smarted the whole security detail as she rushed to be cradled
    in the arms of our Prime Minister.

    alan skeoch
    June 2023



  • EPISODE 830 MY LAST CLASS AT PARKDALE C. I. and THE BOY WHO STOLE CARS



    EPISODE 830     MY LAST CLASS AT PARKDALE C. I.  and THE BOY WHO STOLE CARS


    alan skeoch
    June 11, 2023

    This was my last class at Parkdale Collegiate institute, 209 Jameson Ave., Toronto.  A wonderful class as diverse as
    Toronto has become.  When I look at their faces today, June 2023 I cannot help but feel our country is in good hands.’Take a close 
    look yourself.  I just love this picture.  

    NICE THINGS DO HAPPEN

    Some readers may wonder why I reported the story about Leila Buckler.  My propose was 
    to let me tell short story about a boy belonging to a gang who stole cars.   It’s a story of 
    which I am proud.  I did something that changed someone’s life big time.   To tell the story
    is to brag.   So it needs to be put in perspective.  My action was a small thing  Leila did
    bigger things.   She rescued many more kids than I would ever know.  And she did it
    quietly.   So please do not see me as a person with an inflated ego.   

    THE BOY WHO STOLE CARS

    I still remember where he sat in my class. Halfway down the row next to the window
    which faced Jameson Avenue.  He was a typical kid…a student.   The only difference
    was that he joined my class midway through the fall term.  Our principal or guidance
    office asked if I would take this boy mid term.   Or maybe the did not ask.  No matter,
    he was nice little kid who actually did some of the homework assignments and
    put his hand up tentatively to help me develop a lesson.   He became part of the
    class quickly …and shyly.

    I mentioned him in some of the staff room babble.   The conversation went
    something like this.

    “Did any of you get that new student…put in our classes mid term?”
    “Yes…but he won’t be there long.”
    “Why not?”
    “He stole cars…part of a car theft ring.”
    “You must be kidding”
    “No.  I think he is being held in a group home until the trial.”
    ’Such  a nice kid.   Seems that way to me.”
    “That may be so but car theft is a serious offence.  “
    “How serious?”
    “Judge will decide.  Car theft penalty is Eighteen months to 10 years in the slammer.”
    “He will likely get two years less a day owing to his age.    But that is
    hard time for a young kid.”

    I was startled.  Teachers are not told much about their students.  That is policy.
    Protects kids really, especially those with tough stories.  Like Leila Buckler , one
    of our cheerleaders.  I had not idea she and her dad were living in a flop house
    hotel…room for five bucks a night with a bathroom down the hall.  Dangerous place
    where her dad had to escort her to the wash room. I never knew that. Leila was 
    just another face in the class.  Kids do not want to be centred out.

    CONVERSATION  CONTINUED SOMETHING LKE THIS

    “Jail is no place for this kid.”
    “Well, he’s been caught stealing cars…thousands of dollars in property theft.”
    “Guilty!  Must pay the price in hard time.””
    “What happens to kids put in prison?”
    “Stories are terrifying.   Some become hardened criminals.  Kids like him could
    also face sexual abuse.”
    “does he have anyone to speak for him?”
    “We don’t know.  Must be social workers…lawyers…”
    “What about his parents?”
    “Seems they are not in te picture. “

    And so the conversation continued.  Meanwhile the boy seemed to be enjoying
    our high school,  Parkdale Collegiate institute…a downtown core high school with
    lots of kids in difficulty,   And most kids thriving.

    The boy preyed upon my mind.  Was there anything I could do?

    Somehow I became aware of his trial date.   I decided to write a letter to
    the judge with my positive comments about the boy.  Maybe that would help
    a bit.  Maybe not.

    “Your honour, I would like to say that the boy seems to have been led
    into criminal activity.  He does not seem to be a criminal. I enjoy him As a student in my 
    class and worry that jail would do permanent harm to him.”  (something like that) 

    Then a month or so later I got a call from the judge.  Imagine that!

    She said  “without your letter I would have been forced to put
    the boy in jail.  That would not be be the best thing for the boy
    Your letter allowed a group home alternative.   Thank you

    That phone call made me feel really good.  I never saw the boy again.

    Alan skeoch
     






















    Sent from my iPhone


  • EPISODE 831 “DON’T DO IT! NOT ENOUGH ROOM!” THEN THE LITTLE BLUE CAR ACCELERATED AND DISAPPEARED

    EPISODE 831    “DON’T DO IT! NOT ENOUGH ROOM!”  THEN THE LITTLE BLUE CAR ACCELERATED AND DISAPPEARED


    alan skeoch
    June 4. 2-23

    We were drifting down the Fifth when a giant spider appeared…immense green thing.  Bigger than a bread basket.
    Then a little blue car passed us and I know what the driver was thinking.  So do you.   He …(must have been a male driver
    because no female would be so stupid)…He thought , “I can rip through the gap between the spiders legs.:

    And that was the last we saw of him or the spider.


    A little further down the road we met a giant centipede that looked really hungry.
    I think it ate both spider and that little blue car.   

    We did not stop to inspect.   Discretion is the better part of valour.

    To whom should we report this tragedy?

    alan

    Postscript

    Remember the bit of doggerel about Algie?

    “Algie met a bear and the bear was bulgy and the bulge was Algie!”

    The little blue car met a centipede that was bulgy and the bulge was the little blue car.”..

    (somehow that version is not as good as the bear version…but it happened.  At least I think it happened.
    The male driver?  That was a guess based on prejudice….it could have been a female.

    alan
  • EPISODE 830 SAD LITTLE BOY THAT I NEVER HELPED…and MARJORIE … ALMOST PARALLELS

    EPISODE 830    SAD LITTLE BOY THAT I NEVER HELPED…and MARJORIE … ALMOST  PARALLELS


    alan skeoch
    June 2, 2023


    Fwd: PARKDALE C.I. FLASHBACK: HE'S DEAD, SIR! MURDERED! SHOT TO DEATH  TODAY! (FROM ALAN SKEOCH) – Alan SkeochWhole class 'shocked' and 'confused' after teacher wears blackface to  school, student says | CBC News

    MY life has been happy most of the time.  Only a Sore knee from football injury. Unlike the student i remember so well at Parkdale  C I in the 1960’s which has a similarity to
    what Marjorie and her brother faced in the 1950’s.   (Picture of Marjorie and Doug Hughes )

    WHY WAS I SO LUCKY IN LIFE WHILE OTHERS FACED TRAGEDY…ESPECIALLY ONE LITTLE BOY WHOSE NAME IS FORGOTTEN?


    Last night I could not sleep so memory took over.  For some strange reason I thought about
    a sad little boy in my Grade 9 class at Parkdale C.I.  He was very shy….avoided speaking if he could.
    Likely poor.  How do I know that?  Because  a lot of the students were poor which made him
    unremarkable I suppose.  

    I think his dad died in November in 1964 or 1965. Think he sidled shyly up to my desk and said “My dad died.”  Or
    another student told me.  That evening I went to the funeral home. A dark place wth 25 Watt light  bulbs. 
    Frightening.  The boy was alone in one room.  Seemed surprised and glad to see me. But sad and confused…perhaps frightened. 

    “How is your mom?”
    “She died.”

    No mom.  No dad.  No siblings.  No visitors.  No funeral service.  Just this sad little boy and the
    casket with his father’s remains.

    Why did he come to mind on a sleepless night over sixty years later?  Why?   Because I did nothing to
    help.  Just visited the funeral home across from Bellwood Park where other kids joyfully played ball hockey.
    I did nothing.   I am not sure I even alerted the principal about the boy.  I do not even remember his
    name.

    How lucky I was.  Surrounded by people who liked me.  A huge extended Skeoch family … so large
    I had trouble sorting out my nieces and nephews.   My grandparents on both sides welcomed visits 
    with food and genuine interest in my life.

    Yet this little boy had no one.  Sad.  Sadness captured by the song Old Man River… “Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen.  
    Nobody knows but Jesus!”

    Whch made me start thinking about Marjorie.  Fast asleep beside me in bed.  A happy girl…woman…wife….future parent.

    Both her parents died.  Her mom died at Christmas 1954 when Marjorie was in Grade 9 at Lawrence Park Collegiate.  At her mom’s funeral she
    did not cry until Mr. Chick, her teacher, brought her home form class to the funeral home.  At least She had her dad
    who taught her how to fish, how to raise baby rabbits. That was some consolation.

    But in April 1956 he died as well.  Marjorie found him and did not know what to do.  She woke her brother.

    “Doug, I think Dad is dead.  What should I do?’
    ”I think you should go to school.  I’ll look after things.”

       Marjorie walked to school in a daze. Sat in her class
    and wondered why.  What should she do?  What could she do? She went to the office.

    “I am going home.”
    “Why?”
    “My father died this morning.”

    And she went home.  Her high school did nothing.  Marjorie was like the sad little boy described 
    earlier.  No mom.  No dad.  No one seemed to care.  Her brother was eight years older than Marjorie
    Already making his way in an adult world.  

    “What happened to your house?”
    “We were renters.”
    “Your furniture?”
    “People came and took what they wanted.  Strangers.”

    There is one big difference between the sad little boy and Marjorie.  She was rescued by her aunt Phyllis Morgan who
    was a Latin teacher in the North Bay high school.

    “Marjorie, you will come to live with us when the school term ends.”
    “Pack what you can carry.  We have a room for you and a new high school..”

    And that was all.   Her brother put Marjorie on the train to  North Bay with her single suitcase.
    That was the low point  Soon events turned upward.

    Marjorie was loved and rescued.   

      Her life in North Bay turned out to be wonderful.   She joined the curling team, drama club,
    played basketball, went skiing, got good marks, danced, had lots of boy friends who were serious about her.  How do I know that?
    Because when I appeared on the scene she introduced me to them all…even one that proposed marriage.

    Her aunt created a new life for Marjorie  Helped her forget the terror of that
    morning when she found her father.  She was loved.

    Maybe.  Just maybe…that sad little boy in my Grade Nine class had an uncle or  aunt …older brother or sister…friend..
    that rescued him.  

    I do not know.  All I do know is that I did nothing .   I did nothing.  And that memory stays with me still.   

    What should I have done?

    alan skeoch
    june 2, 2023

    P>S>   What do schools do when tragedy strikes a student?  I will ask Mary.