EPISODE 592 “TEN MARRIAGE LICENCES HAVE DISAPPEARED, ALAN’

EPISODE 592 : “Ten marriage licences have disappeared, alan!”

alan skeoch\may 31, 20022

THE GREAT SEAL OF ONTARIO…SOLID SILVER

My first big job. Why should you be interested in this story? Well, maybe it will

trigger thoughts of your first job. Or maybe it will be so self serving that you

will be disgusted with this 582nd Episode in my Covid 19 diary. I will try

to be self deprecating and hopefully avoid self inflating arrogance. Credit to authors

of I Whistle a Happy Tune.

MY FIRST BIG TIME JOB

“Alan, how woulld you like a summer job?”

“And everyday job?”

“Yes, a very important job.”

“How come?”

“Vic Couling phoned and says there is an opening at Queen’s Park for an office boy.”

“In a Park….ad office boy in park. Sounds weird.”

“The job is in the Ontario Parliament building in Queen’s Park.”

“No sunshine there.”

“I already told Vi Couling you would take the job.”

“Can I get tp Queen’s Park on my bike, mom?”

“You can try…long way though.”

Ontario Legislative Building At Queens Park In Toronto Canada Stock Photo - Download Image Now - iStock

IN 1953, RJ CUDNEY’S OFFICE WAS ON THE RIGHT SIDE OF THE DOORWAY TO

THE PARLIAMENT BUILDINGS. MY LITTLE OFFICE WAS ON THE LEFT SIDE OF

THAT GRAND OPENING. MADE ME FEEL IMPORTANT.

I was 13 years old. Just finished Grade 8 at Runnymede Public School and heading

for Grade 9 at Humberside. Just a kid. My job that summer was very important.

“Alan, you will be handling the Great Seal of Ontario. Pressing the seal on important documents…

And pressing seals on Ontario marriage licenses. And you will press the hot wax seal on all Letters Patent

and in addition all letters of congratulation for senior citizens.”

The Great seal of Ontario…solid silver, large as a tea plate

Holy Samoley, I thought, this is big time. My boss was R.J. Cudney, then Deputy Provincial

Secretary for the Government of Ontario. A very reserved, impeccably dressed, dignified, and

super busy man. His office was on the left side of the Parl’t Bjuildings. My tiny office was on

the right. Smack dab in the heart of Queen’s Park.

I found a stick of the sealing wax I used on Letters {agent….and special notes to my grandmother Freeman on the Fifth Line of Erin Twp.

Wax seals cracked wth age unless quickly framed.

The seal used on marriage licenses. Hard to forget that seal.

Took the job seriously. Handling the Great Seal of Ontario was a serious task. No one got

married that summer of 1953 without me pressing the Seal in their marriage licence.

No company got incorporated without me weaving a deep blue ribbon in the top left corner

and then dropping hot red wax and pressing a tiny seal on the ribbons. Really fancy job which

I took very seriously.

I also did some blank documents with the seals

on them which I mailed often to my grandmother and grandfather

on their farm. Grandma loved getting these illicit documents. “The mail man thinks we are

very important people when he saw the blue ribbon inside the

envelope from Queen’s Park.”

GETTING DOORED ON ST. GEORGE STREET…NOT PLEASANT.

And each day it would take me an hour to cycle from West Toronto to my new office

Found a bunch of side streets with less rush hour traffic. Never late. Tried to be

dependable. I felt very important.

St . George Street could not be avoided, unfortunately. Especially during 5 pm rush hour. Dangerous

because no one expected a 13 year old boy on a Humber Sports three geared racer to

be driving along in the gutter. What if someone opened the passenger door? Well, someone did.

A woman. The half open door was like a guillotine. I was ‘doored’. My left shoulder

took the impact as I tumbled under the car. The woman said, “Are you hurt?” Bravely and falsely

I said. “No, I will be OK.” Not the truth. My left arm was just not right.. The door had severed my

clavicle. The woman did not care, really,. She asked the question with no real concern

and got away. Same with the driver…I was a delay. The traffic resumed. And I had to face

the problem of getting home with a broken clavicle…one armed.What to do? The music from the

King and I, Hollywood movie with Deborah Kerr and Yul Brinner helped a lot. I hummed and

sang:

“Whenever I feel afraid

I hold my head erect

And whistle a happy tune

So no one will suspect

I’m afraid”

If only I could get home. Mom would know what to do. Hoped no hospital involved .

But first I had to get home. My bike was a bit wobbly into the bargain. Mom got Dr. Greenaway to

harness me in a sling. “Broken but not dislocated. Be fine in a few weeks.” Recovery Took less time

than that because riding the streetcar to Queen’s Park was a bit of nightmare. Crowded

at rush hours. Cheek to jowl. Worse, it was leg to leg. One man pressed so tightly to me

that it felt like his hand was in my pocket. Stop. “His hand is in my pocket’” What to do about it.

If dad was with the pervert would get a quick fist to the jaw. Or worse. But I was alone and 13

years old. My first contact with a pervert. So I just jumped off the street car and caught the next.

In spite of being doored, it seemed safer on my bike than in a crowded street car.

What rush hour used to look like on the TTC

TTC rush hour crowd on Toronto subway in 1953…same thing on street cars

THE MISSING MARRIAGE LICENCES

I Think my arm, was still in a sling when Mr Cudney, called RJ behind his back, called me to

his office one morning. One of my duties was to fill his water thermos each day. The office

was big and dark with leather covered chairs and couches.

I thought he wanted to look at my arm. But I was wrong.

“Sit down, Alan, I would like to ask you a serious question.”

“yes sir.”

“There are ten marriage licences missing. These are serious documents. Did you

by chance mislay them?

“No sir, I did not.” Did RJ know I had sent blank notes to grandma with the great seal?

“Tell me how you handle marriage licences.”

“They come in batches of 250 which I keep at my desk. When I need more I get

them from the Queen’s Printer office.”

“Each is numbered?”

“Yes.”

“Do you look at the numbers?”

“No.”

“So you would not notice a discrepancy.?”

“No sir, never thought about it.”

“I believe you son, but had to ask. I think the error was made in the numbering

system. A blip…skipped ten. “

(RJ looked at me…with a little guilt in his eyes.)

“I heard about your arm. Would it not be safer on the streetcar?”

(I kept my mouth shut. Did not tell RJ about the pervert’s hand in my pocket.}

“Later in the summer, I would like you to protect the Great Seal of Ontario at the CNE, Alan.

It will be a night job from 10 pm to 6 AM. “

(I was flattered. From suspicion to trust in one conversation.)

In 1953 the CNE grounds were packed with people. From midnight to 6 a.m. there was no one around except a wandering

security guard.

“Mom, the night job is really nice. I am the only person in the government

building except for the security man. In the centre they keep live examples of Ontario

wild life. and huge water tanks with live fish….big ones…Northern Pike and Lake Trout

all full-size. And one booth has an electric train with advertising on the cars. I am allowed

to test it . (At least I think so). But the best part mom are the rats. I hide behind a pillar and count

to fifty, then pop my head around the pillar. Rats! coloured…brown, black and beige. They see

me and dive into the holes in the open courtyard.”

”What about protecting the Great Seal Ontario.”

“Always keep my eye on it. Solid silver. Heavy.”

END…summer of 1953.

What would a 13 year old boy want with ten marriage licences>?

I wonder how many Ontario corporations know their letters patent were sealed by a 13 year old boy?

I wonder how many people married in the summer of 1953 know their marriage licence was made official

by 13 year boy ?

I wonder now many people know that the Great Seal of Ontario was guarded by a 13 year old boy?

I wonder what happened to those ten missing marriage licences? Useless because they were never sealed.

I wonder if the woman who ‘doored’ me felt guilty…or was it my own fault.

I wonder why that pervert wanted to put his hand in my pocket. Shudder!

I wonder how many 13 year old boys or girls ever were so trusted.

POST SCRPT

Lyrics

Whenever I feel afraid
I hold my head erect
And whistle a happy tune
So no one will suspect I’m afraid

While shivering in my shoes
I strike a careless pose
And whistle a happy tune
And no one ever knows I’m afraid

The result of this deception
Is very strange to tell
For when I fool the people
I fear I fool myself as well

I whistle a happy tune
And every single time
The happiness in the tune
Convinces me that I’m not afraid

Make believe you’re brave
And the trick will take you far
You may be as brave
As you make believe you are

You may be as brave
As you make believe you are

While shivering in my shoes
I strike a careless pose
And whistle a happy tune
And no one ever knows I’m afraid

The result of this deception
Is very strange to tell
For when I fool the people
I fear I fool myself as well

I whistle a happy tune
And every single time
The happiness in the tune
Convinces me that I’m not afraid

Make believe you’re brave
And the trick will take you far
You may be as brave
As you make believe you are

Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: Oscar Hammerstein Ii / Richard Rodgers

I Whistle a Happy Tune lyrics © Williamson Music

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