Alan Skeoch

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  • EPISODE 133 SKEOCH WOOD (ROTHSEY, ISLE OF BUTE, SCOTLAND)

    EPISODE 133    SKEOCH WOOD, (ISLE of Bute, Scotland)


    SKEOCH WOOD … north side of  ROTHESY, ISLE  OF BUTE, SCOTLAND


    SKEOCH  WOOD
    SKEOCH WOOD, CIRCA 1900
    alan skeoch
    Oct. 2020

    “Can I help you, lad?”
    “Yes, do you have an empty prison cell?”
    “Why, son…looking for a place to sleep?”
    “Yes.”
    “No need to sleep in jail…let me see what I can find.”

    It was early September, 1960, and  I had just got off the Scottish  ferry to Rothesay on the
    Isle of Bute.  My money was almost gone but I dearly wanted to see the Skeoch Wood, a
    forest on the northern edge of the holiday town of Rothsey.  Somewhere I had  read
    that local police stations could provide emergency  shelter.  

    Just getting to Rothsey was a shot in the dark as the expression  goes.  My job doing a mining
    geophysical survey  on the south coast of  Ireland was over and I was  slowly making my way
    to Prestwick Airport for the flight home to Canada.  This  was a grand  adventure for a 22 year
    old Canadian so I tried  to cram in as much family history as possible.  Mom told me she
    found the Skeoch Wood  on an old post cart.  

    Was this forest connected  in any way with our family name?  I thought so.  But how do I
    interview a tree?   Actually I felt lost when I found the Skeoch Wood.  It was not the forest
    I expected. 

    “Got a place for you … just down the street, very reasonable
    bed and breakfast.  Better than a jail cell.”

    “Too bad about the forest…One hundred years ago you could get lost…could
    hide in there.”
    “What happened?”
     “Two World Wars and  The Great Depression… removed a lot of trees.”

    And no one  I spoke  to Knew anything about the name Skeoch.  Someone must know but
    I had no luck.  Rather a disappointment but the Skeoch Wood was a kind of
    namesake.  Maybe  Skeoch is both a place name…and a family name.  The best 
    meaning I got for the name was Geilic for “Hawthorne” or that a Skeoch was “a hawthorne
    branch thrown across a field opening as a gate.  Who knows if that is true. Does relate to
    trees though. So I left
    Rothsay, caught a bus to Prestwick and flew home to Toronto.  End of story.

    Well not quite.  By pure chance in 1998 I came across THE TENTERS OF BUTE, an article
    written by Jenny Chaplin in The Scots  Magazine (Vol. 148, N.1, January 1998).  It was
    the subheading that caught my eye:



    “SKEOCH WOOD was  home to hundreds of  men, women and  children who, through
    no fault of their own, had no roof over their heads.”

    Rothesay once had  four large cotton mills that employed a lot of workers…perhaps hundreds.
    Cotton processing boomed in Rothesay until 1835 when the market collapsed and all the
    workers were suddenly unemployed.   There was  no safety net.  The workers could not pay
    rent … could barely feed themselves and stooped to stealing turnips and whatever else was
    near at hand.   So, from 1835 until the  1920’s,  nearly a century, these industrial workers
    and their children retreated into the Skeoch Wood.  Hidden.  They became known as
    the Tenters of Bute because they lived in makeshift tents and hovels.  No running water, 
    no toilets.   The  Skeoch Wood became  a desperate  place.

    “The trek to the Skeoch  Wood had begun (in 1835). And throughout the  1800’s and
    on into the early  years of  1900, the Skeoch Wood was home to hundreds of men, women
    and children who, through no fault of their own, had no roof over their heads.”  (Jenny Chaplin)

    It might be expected that the occasional visitor to Rothesay, as I was in 1960, might take
    a nap in the Skeoch Wood to save a bit of money.  But it must have been startling to stroll 
    through the Skeoch  Wood in 1835 or 1855 or 1895 and find hundreds of poverty stricken
    families sleeping … living …deep in the forest.  

    They were not even allowed to beg unless the had a “Begger’s Badge”…only 26 such
    badges were issued.

    One elderly woman walked barefoot (I assume) to the Rothesay police station in hope
    of getting  shoes. When she  admitted she  was 69 rather than  70 she  was sent away
    “with tears streaming down  her face.”

    THE police in Rothsey turned this old lady away when she  needed shoes badly.
    The  police  in Rothsey, in 1960, found me a plae to sleep  other than a jail cell.
    These  stories just do not fit well.




    Selling cockles and whelks earned a little money but when  too many tried to sell
    this low level  food they were rounded up and moved away from town.  Rag picking
    was another way to try to make a living. 

    Some  Local residents of  Rothesay referred to the Tenters as “The dregs of humanity”…and
    that was in 1899 when they were offered a trip to the poorhouse in Greenock which
    they refused.  Better to live  in a rag tent in the Skeoch Wood than enter a British
    Poor House.  Earlier, in 1878, The Society For  Assisting Poor Wives in Their Time
    of Need …that was the full name, imagine that…the  assistance was to “Lend”
    a bagful of clothing for one  month.  Lend.  not Give.

    Sympathy was felt by some…rejection by others…all focused on the Skeoch Wood.

     1885, a Plea for the Poor:

       “Hard times are at our door…
       We never saw before
      Such deep distress through poverty
      As many do deplore.”

    When  did it end?  When were the Tenters of Skeoch Wood dispersed?  There was
    no specific time.  They disappeared in dribs and  grabs.  A  goodly number left
    in the immigrant boats heading to South Africa, Australia, Canada, etc.  How  
    could they afford to do so?   Local people held bazaars, antique and  collectable sales
    as they do today.  It was in the interest of Rothesay to do so.  Rothesay had become
    a tourists town.  Tourists liked to stroll through the Skeoch Wood I imagine.

    The police officer that I met in 1960 must have been amused.  Maybe, later,
    afer he had  found me a room rather than a jail cell, he had a pint with
    friends in a Rothsey Pub and  said.

    “Guess who asked to be  put in jail today?”
    “Who?”
    “One of the original Skeoch’s from the Skeoch Wood.  A kid.
    He did not even have a tent.”

    alan skeoch
    October 2020


    P.S.. In time,  Some of the marbles began to fit.  Take the LITTLE SKEOCH MOTOR CAR
    of which less than five were built before the factory burned to the ground in
    the 1920’s.  Some car buffs in Scotland are rebuilding that car.  Then there
    is the question of  St. Skeoch.  Who was he…she?  A mystery that still
    remains.  How could  we be offspring of saints?  Wait a second, saints do not
    have to be celibate do they?



    Skeoch is a rather odd surname.  Then again
    there are many odd surnames of people around the world.
    So , being odd, is noting special today.  But back in 1960 when I was  much younger I had the chance
    to look into ur family name…to maybe confirm or reject the legends that circulated through the family.

    THE LAST WORD

    Keep this final note secret between you and me.  Some veterans of World War II told  me
    the Skeoch Wood was a great place for lovemaking.  I have no idea if  that is true.

  • EPISODE 132 CLOUDS …. WHAT DO YOU SEE? Don’t take the world too seriously…have some fun

    EPISODE 132    CLOUDS…WHAT DO  YOU SEE?   


    alan skeoch
    Oct. 2020

    I love reading puffy clouds…seeing things in their shape.  People, animals, atom bomb tests, swimmers, bird houses in shape of one room schools, etc.….
    Doing so can be kind of  fun.  Nobody gets hurt…no image remains in the sky very long.
    And, most amusing, other people see different images.

    Of course reading clouds sounds suspiciously like the Ink Blot Test…Rorschacht test (he was
    a Swiss psychoanalyst looking into mental illness, particularly Schizophrenia ).  Very popular
    in the 20th century…less popular in our new century.  So take it easy.  Do not read too much
    into the images as some kind of pseudoscience.  You do not need to see a psychiatrist…psychologist…crystal  ball reader.

    The reason  I am sending Episode 132 is simple.  Suppose you are trapped  in semi-isolation in
    a single room or small apartment or condo.  You cannot go out because of Covid 19.  And  you are
    bloody well bored to death.  Well, look out the window  and see what you can see in those
    puffy clouds that cover the sky periodically.   Have some fun.  Do not take yourself too seriously.

    To  avoid the charge of  Narcissism ask your partner or  friend to tell you what he or she sees in those
    clouds that are reshaping themselves  all the time.  I will bet you cannot agree.  No  big deal.

    Here are a couple of cloud formations 

    In my mirror I see a woodpecker on the left…or maybe a chicken.  You are not looking at the mirror.  (I was parked by the way)

    Turtle …on the wires near bottom right.


    Here I  see a large man resting on his back with one knee raised…or  big beer belly.


    Here See a person swimming…arms his side, head raised  out of the water… a man….no clearly defined arms…dog paddling maybe
    …I also see an hand with fingers creating image  of a long necked ostrich.

    Here I see  a rock singer with guitar and pants with huge cuffs…circa 1960’s…centre of picture


    Angry clouds…dead centre is a beast with big teeth , head angled  upwards..biting….raised eye sockets…elongated  head  like an
    alligator…that is a stretch  of imagination…disagree….look slightly right of centre…head angled upwards as if biting.
    Far right…could be an atom bomb test…or long necked creature with huge eyes peeking from behind cloud…yes, long necked creature
    peeking from behind a cloud…right side, middle.

    I see Marjorie…”Alan, you can be insufferably stupid “

    I see a birdhouse shaped  like a one room school.

    See a gate to a look alike Roman  Latifundia (joke)…really see nothing

    An atom bomb explosion

    Your turn…I don’t see anything.


    Here  is a swimmer or a diver leaping arms outstretched

    Have some fun.  

    alan skeoch
    Oct. 2020

  • EPISODE 131 PORT HOPE…77 MM GERMAN FIELD GUN CAPTURED IN WW I…restored

    EPISODE 128     PORT HOPE … 77 MM GERMAN  FIELD  ARTLLERY PIECE CAPTURED IN WW I


    alan skeoch
    Sept  2020

    Trophies across Canada

    At war’s end, Sir Arthur Doughty, the Dominion Archivist, was named Controller of War Trophies and charged with gathering trophies and bringing them back to Canada. While many Canadian trophies were sent to the Imperial War Museum, thousands returned to Ottawa. In early 1920, the government’s official collection consisted of 516 guns, 304 trench mortars, 3,500 light and heavy machine-guns, and 44 aircraft.

    Initial plans for a national war museum to house this collection, the official war art, and other artifacts were delayed or ignored by successive governments. The collection remained with the Dominion Archives which was soon sending pieces of it across Canada in response to requests from communities, veterans groups, schools, and military units. Cities or military bases often displayed large war trophies in central parks or in or near prominent buildings, and sometimes included them with local memorials. Acquired in the burst of patriotic enthusiasm that marked the immediate post-war period, many gradually fell into disrepair. During the Second World War, hundreds were donated to scrap metal drives, incorporating former German weapons against the new Nazi enemy.









    EPISODE 131   TROPHY OF WORLD WAR ONE…PORT HOPE 

    alan skeoch
    Oct. 2020

    We made a fast stop to look at the salmon running (lumbering is a better word) their way
    up the Ganaraska River which runs through the centre of Port Hope.  With Covid 19 lurking
    who knows where, we were careful and maybe unwelcome visitors.  So we found an empty
    parking lot and rushed to get a look at this poor salmon.

    We never made it.  We  got distracted by a large 77 mm field gun.  “Must be a Canadian gun,”
    I thought until i  read the bronze plaque description.  The gun is … or was … German.  Heavy
    wooden  wheels in excellent shape because of a Rotary Club restoration done back in 1000.
    This gun was presented to the Town of Port Hope in 1919 as a ‘trophy of war’ that it might serve
    as a memorial to the boys from Port Hope killed in its capture.

    The expression “trophy of war” made me think “I wonder how many similar trophies of war  were
    shipped  to Canada back in 1919?”

    There were lots of them.  Hundreds..thousands.   One man, Sir Arthur Doughty, was named Controller of  War Trophies when
    the First World War ended.  in 1920 Caada received  516 guns (like the Port Hope 77 mm field gun), 304 Trench Mortars,   3,500 light and heavy machine-guns 
    and 44 aircraft.  

    What happened to them?   Initially they were stored in Ottawa but not for long.  Towns and  cities across Canada sent requests for war trophies…as did veterans group, schools and military units.  

      Many got featured space in parks or near prominent buildings as  in Port Hope.   If there were so many then why did the Port Hope gun surprise me?

    A great many of the trophies of war were aging…wood  wheels rot fast.  And scrap metals were needed for a new World War in 1939.  They were melted down and reformed
    into more modern artillery in the war against Nazi Germany.  They went home as it were.

    The fate of the larger trophies of war…the aircraft..is only partially known.  there were 792 Fokker fighting aircraft surrendered to Britain in 1919.  Forty four of them
    came to Canada.    have any survived?


    A seat of honour for a German artillery man…rough honour.

    The fate of the larger trophies of war…the airplanes is only partially known.  Believe it or not Germany surrendered  792 Fokker Aircraf








    QUOTE FROM :THE CANADIAN  FOKKERS


    By the end of the Great War, military aviation had come of age and was recognized as a vital part of modern warfare. The Armistice of November 11th 1918 required the German Army to surrender its most potent weapons of war, so as to discourage the high command from resuming hostilities. This agreement demanded the German army turn over 5,000 artillery pieces, 25,000 machine guns, 3,000 trench mortars, as well as “1,700 pursuit and bombardment airplanes, preference being given to all of the D-7s [sic] and all of the night bombardment machines”. As a result, by the opening months of 1919, 792 Fokker D.VIIs had been surrendered to the British, French, Belgian and American armies. Several dozen of these machines ultimately found their way to Canada, and yet the details of exactly how that happened have been all but forgotten.

    From a Canadian perspective, the First World War was a pivotal moment in terms of establishing a sense of nationhood. Thousands of Canadians fought with distinction in the British flying services during the war. On the ground, the Dominion of Canada fielded its first Army-sized formation – the four, over-gunned divisions of the Canadian Corps. To publicize this significant contribution to the allied war effort, Lord Beaverbrook created a public relations machine called the Canadian War Records Office (CWRO). Working with him to construct and preserve a national memory of the war years was Arthur Doughty, Dominion Archivist and Director of War Trophies. Drawing largely on spoils of war surrendered after the Armistice, Doughty amassed an artefact collection including nearly fifty aircraft. Along with the rest of the trophy collection, these state of the art aeroplanes were intended to form the nucleus of a national war museum in Ottawa to commemorate Canada’s wartime sacrifices.

    During the opening months of 1919, Doughty and a young Canadian staff officer by the name of Captain R.E. Lloyd Lott persuaded the RAF and the American Expeditionary Force (AEF) to share a portion of their aeronautical booty with Canada. In February and March of 1919, the recently formed Canadian Air Force (CAF) took possession of twenty Fokker D.VIIs from the RAF. The original intent was for the CAF to pack the aircraft for shipment to Canada, but No. 1 Fighter Squadron also flew them extensively alongside their standard British service machines. In part, this was because the experienced Canadian airmen felt that the D.VII was superior to their issued Sopwith Dolphins.

    Today, assessing the degree to which the CAF utilized German aircraft is based on a number of primary sources. Among the most useful documentary evidence is a handful of surviving pilot logbooks. In addition to these, a number of official Canadian photographs – one of the many products of Beaverbrook’s CWRO – captured Fokker D.VIIs in CAF custody. In the spring of 1919, CWRO cameramen visited the CAF at Hounslow Airfield (southwest of London, between the modern Heathrow Airport and Kew Gardens) where they photographed Fokkers D.VIIs being used by Canadian airmen. A number of these photographs have since been published fairly widely, yet their Canadian connection is most often entirely overlooked.

    The photograph showing a line-up of four Fokker D.VIIs (the nearest bearing the ‘RK’ insignia of Richard Kraut from Jasta 63) has appeared in a number of publications. Some rightly identify the location as Hounslow, but never has a caption indentified the serials of all four aircraft in the photograph, nor has anyone noted that they were being utilized by the CAF. Through an examination of original CWRO albums held at the Canadian War Museum (CWM), and an appreciation of context in which the photos were taken this author has deduced much information about the images in this series. Two other photographs of this same foursome, taken from different angles and showing a handful of CAF members, allow the four aircraft to be identified as Albatros-built D.VIIs bearing the serials 5924/18 [often misidentified as 5324], 6769/18, 6810/18 [the so-called ‘Knowlton Fokker’ that survives in Canada to this day at the Brome County Historical Society] and 6822/18. In order to extract this information, one requires access to all three photographs, an appreciation of their relationship to one another, and good quality scans or prints from the original glass plate negatives.


    ALAN SKEOCH

    oct. 2020

  • EPISODE 130 “UP ONE ROAD AND DOWN ANOTHER SETTING THE WORLD ON FIRE” ERIN TOWNSHIP, 4TH AND 5TH LINE OCT. 1,2020

    EPISODE 130    DRIVING THROUGH ERIN TOWNSHIP UP FIFTH LINE AND DOWN FOURTH LINE  OCT. 1, 2020


    alan skeoch
    Oct. 1, 2020

    WE got a huge return of sets and props from a big time movie.  I wrote a story with pictures.
    … an  interesting 
    story that may never be told.  Why not?  First, movies are quite secretive because they do
    not want strangers wandering  around  making their sets useless.   Second, I asked some of the men delivering
    our things to lift their masks so  I could get their pictures.  “They could be fired, Alan, you
    cannot do that.” said Marjorie. 

    And third, President Trump has tested positive for the Covid 19 virus.  Pence exposed? What does this
    mean?   Is Biden vulnerable?  I thought Trump look sick in the debate…sure sounded sick.  Is Nancy
    Pelosi third in line as takeover President.  Hope so.  Getting nervous.  I sure am.  Not 
    that I will miss Trump.

    So here is a series of pictures to make you feel less tense on this October day.

    alan

    P.S,  Maybe I can send the movie story titled  RETURN LOAD once the movie is shown to the public months from now.
    But do not hold  your breath.  Meanwhile go on this road trip with us.



    Where are we?  “Alan, get your camera, I will drive  UP THE FIFTH LINE, DOWN THE FOURTH LINE OF ERIN TOWNSHIP…JUST
    A SHORT DRIVE SOUTH WEST OF ERIN.”

    And so I left the drab brown soybean field where Andrew keeps his bees and became a passenger.  Pretend  you are
    in the truck  with us.


    Thanks … to whom?  To those of you who liked  our previous road  trip to Sheltered Valley and  Wicklow Beach…east of Toronto.
    One couple even duplicated the trip (Pat Fry and husband Dave).   

    Here we are North west of Toronto…


    Soybeans  can be beautiful too…


    Maple trees age, get tired, and collapse…sometimes with a burst of colour.


    Poor Mr Lindsay, a bachelor with a top herd…he decided to move a  cow from one place in the barn to another…she turned
    on him…gored him in the gut…bad…he dragged himself to the house to call for help…made the  call …but died.  At least
    that is what I remember being told.  Cows  kill farmers  as much or more than bulls.  Keep that in mind.


    “There, Alan, that is what I wanted  you to see.”

    “Can anyone tell me the cost of this rig?  I am guessing around $200,000 dollars.  Little wonder that small farmers
    have disappeared  and  corporate farmers are taking over.”


    “Don’t take my picture!”

    “OK”


    A few years ago I was asked to drive this stretch of  road in a new Japanese car … a commercial to be seen in
    Japan only … why would the car company want a Canadian driver on a Canadian back road for the Japanese market?

    Same stretch of road where I drove the experimental Japanese car…looking south this time. 


    I remember a line from a poem … “My days are in the yellow leaf.”

  • addition to: EPISODE 129 .PM TRUDEAU VISIT TO PCI…First he had to take a leak



    Begin forwarded message:


    From: ALAN SKEOCH <alan.skeoch@rogers.com>
    Subject: Fwd: EPISODE 129 I HAVE TO TAKE A LEAK…PM TRUDEAU VISIT TO PCI
    Date: September 30, 2020 at 11:29:52 PM EDT
    To: Marjorie Skeoch <marjorieskeoch@gmail.com>, Alan Skeoch <alan.skeoch@rogers.com>, John Wardle <john.t.wardle@gmail.com>




    Begin forwarded message:


    From: ALAN SKEOCH <alan.skeoch@rogers.com>
    Subject: EPISODE 129 I HAVE TO TAKE A LEAK…PM TRUDEAU VISIT TO PCI
    Date: September 29, 2020 at 9:24:33 AM EDT
    To: Alan Skeoch <alan.skeoch@rogers.com>, Marjorie Skeoch <marjorieskeoch@gmail.com>, John Wardle <john.t.wardle@gmail.com>


    Note…I hope this story does not seem silly…then again what if it does…who cares?
    John…take a look…you do not need to send the story out if it seems off the wall.



    EPISODE 129     PM PIERRE TRUDEAU VISITS PCI…and has to take a leak

    alan skeoch
    Sept. 2020

       The small convoy of cars pulled up in front of Parkdale C.I. and out popped

    Pierre Elliott Trudeau…our Prime Minister.  His detail close behind.  But not
    fast enough.  A girl…a  student in Grade 10 or 11…launched herself like a rocket
    towards Trudeau.  Faster than the bodyguard detail could intervene.   She reached
    Trudeau and kissed  him.   He did  not flinch. Smiled and continued towards the front
    door of the school.  It was the peak of Trudeaumania in Canada.  Her action seemed
    significant to me.


    If the hat fits , wear it.  Liberal, Conservative, NDP, Green, Bloc….or no hat at al.   IN the long run Canadian political parties
    are not that different…and that is something of which we should take pride.


    Backwards!   We have not got our politics all backwards as in this picture.  Deep down we like each other.

    In Canada, I believe we follow the Rodney King look  upon life.  Remember him?  Beaten up in California he asked the
    police, “Why can’t we all get along?”  The  difference between Bananas and peaches, between tomatoes and lemons is
    greater than the differences between Liberals, Conservatives, Greens and New Democrats.   We can ‘all get along.’  Let’s keep
    it that way.  We can talk to each other.  Most of us do not even belong to a political party.

    TRUMP-  BIDEN DEBATE…CHAOS, HATRED, VIOLENCE


    We watched the Trump – Biden show  last night.  Shocked!  Made  me think about the
    day Pierre Elliott Trudeau visited Parkdale Collegiate many years ago.  that was 
    a gentler time maybe.   But the more I thought about that visit the more I came to 
    believe Canadian democracy has much to recommend.

    One quotation comes to mind about the  Trump – Biden fiasco….”Democracy is a troubled spirit whose dream
    if  it dream presents only visions of hell.”  That sure was the case last night.  Visions of  hell”
    Even subtle suggestions of civil war.  A debate that was Out of control presenting visions of 
    hell.    I  would not invite President Trump to speak to my class.   But I did indirectly
    invite PM Pierre Trudeau to come … and he  came

    SETTING THE SCENE
    (A Grade Ten class at Parkdale C.I, west end Toronto)


    “OK, gang, I have an idea.”
    The class hurly burly settled down and most of the grade ten
    students at Parkdale Collegiate in Toronto seemed in a listening mood.
    “I think we can cajole the Prime Minister to join us.”
    “In person?”
    “Yes, in person,”
    “Why us?”
    “Because our riding is up for grabs in this election.”
    “What’s the plan, sir?”
    “You simply write him a note…an invitation.”
    “Would it not be better for you to write the note, sir?”
    “Nope.  Trudeau likes young people.   He loses  patience with older people…particularly
    teachers I believe.  Too pompous.”
    “Any tips, sir?”
    “Keep it simple.”

    So they wrote a letter.   Several letters as  I remember.  Written in Grade Ten language with
    minimum of flattery.  Hand written…straightforward, some spelling errors.   Most of the students did not expect
    the Prime Minister would ever visit our class.   But they went along with the plan.

    And then, about a week later, we got a note from the Prime Minister…quite  personal.
    The answer was a “Yes” he would visit our school…hopefully our class.

    Then the whole adventure took on a life of its  own.


    Unfortunately the visit was taken out of our hands as  the whole school  got excited.

    “We will have to open the auditorium for everyone.  This is a great honour.”

    So the visit was not to our classroom and, really, our Grade Ten students were sort
    of shouldered aside.  That did not bother them as much as I expected. It bothers me
    today.  Initially I thought One of the students
    would introduce the PM and another would  do the thank you.  That was the initial plan
    but staff changed it a bit.  Our staff of 60 teachers got excited.  The visit got to be
    teacher dominated which was partly my fault. Trudeau sent word that he would like to to a Q and A with 
    the kids.  Insisting the meeting be student centred.  That much I liked.  There were other
    aspects of the planned visit that I did not like very much.  

    A few teachers got really concerned that some of our outspoken and out of control students
    would make the visit into a disaster by rude questioning.  Like “Mr. Prime Minister you only
    came here to get votes.”  etc.etc.   Wild, even rude, questions did not bother me as I believed
    Trudeau liked that kind of questioning from young people.

    No matter.  Some teachers  decided  to keep a close eye on our more outspoken students.
    And I was asked to chair the Q and  A from the stage.  The visit was getting goddamn pompous
    but I agreed.  In retrospect that was a mistake.  A student should have had that job.  We had  
    students that would have done a fine job sitting on stage with the PM.  A shy student would
    have been terrific.  The PM would have liked that I thought.  

    In short , we over organized the visit.  Too much teacher input.  Very little student input.
    My Grade Ten class was not upset really.    None wanted the spotlight as I remember.
    Now, decades later, I wish I had not chaired the meeting.  Trudeau would have loved to see
    a student from the grade Ten class on stage.   He did meet some of them personally
    though and that was quite wonderful.

    As mentioned  the visit took a life of its own.  I was surprised when a day before
    the official visit an RCMP detachment arrived with a sniffer dog…or maybe more than
    one sniffer dog.  They did  not announce their presence but searched and smelled
    the whole school  from basement even to the roof.  A search for bombs.  Wow!
    This visit was getting the full treatment.   

    Then, the next day, the PM arrived  with an escort of unmarked vehicles.  He had bodyguards
    and also  political people with him.  But it was Trudeau who led the group.  We greeted
    him at the front door.   Shook hands  He seemed a bit agitated.

    “Thanks  for coming…(what should I call him?  I decided to use no special term)…My
    class is very excited…flattered.”

    PM Trudeau stil seemed a bit agitated when he leaned closer to me saying:

    “Where can  I take a leak?”

    “The principal’s office over here.”

    And so he disappeared for a leak.

    At this point one of our teachers sort of bulled through the crowd.  “Where is the
    Prime Minister?  I just love him.”

    I pointed to the Principal’s office and she zipped away in that direction.  She went
    right into the office.   Trudeau  was taking a leak.  Apparently she stood  outside
    the washroom door and greeted him.  I think he took that rudeness in his stride.
    His bodyguards could not stop her.  I do not think a  CNR locomotive could have
    stopped her.  It was no big deal anyway.

    What is my point?  Not much.  It is just so human.  Nothing special…a normal
    event.  

    Trudeau then took to the stage.  He stood with an open microphone taking
    questions from the kids just like any teacher wold have done in class.  it was
    very laid back.  I was not needed on the stage snd had the good sense to
    sit there and  keep my mouth shut.  Even when one  teacher moved in
    on a student who seemed bent on embarrassing the Prime Minister. The kid
    was removed.  Too bad.  Trudeau  would have liked a few sparks  flying.

    BACK TO THE TRUMP – BIDEN DEBATE

    Really our student experience  with political life in Canada was very relaxed…friendly, honest,
    straight answers to questions.  The visit lacked pomposity.   It was so far
    distant from the Trump – Biden debate.   Polite. Maybe  even boring.

    What would  I do  if facing students today after the insult laden American Presidential 
    debate?   How could I be impartial if I was an American teacher.  One thought 
    came to mind.  “Democracy can  only work well if there are two political parties
    that are not distant from each other…parties that we would  call centrists…neither
    extreme left nor extreme right.   Parties not so filled with hate for each other that
    they welcome the prospect of  violence.”   I read  something life that somewhere.
    Seemed sensible to me.  I am not a member of any political party and have voted
    for all three on different occasions.

    Certainly I do not see the rift between parties as  deep and
    hostile … The Grand  Canyon.   Full hatred.  Fire and Brimstone.  And 
    that has a fascination for sure.  

    Our political life cannot compare.   Boring.  Nice.  The Prime Minister
    has to take a leak.  The school staff worry he might be asked a rude
    question.  The  Prime  Minister, Pierre Elliott Trudeau, responds to an invitation
    by Grade Ten students.   So ordinary.  So nice.  No apologies.

    You want to know something I suspected?  I do not think many of
    my students knew whether Trudeau was a Liberal or a Conservative.
    There was no big difference.  And that…that makes all the difference.

    alan skeoch
    Sept. 29, 2020