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EPISODE 717 STEAM ENGINE MODEL PERE MARQUETTE 303 — A HUGE PIECE OF WORK



EPISODE 717   STEAM ENGINE MODEL PERE MARQUETTE 303 — A HUGE PIECE OF WORK

alan skeoch
January 18, 2023



“Mom, tell Dad I got this steam engine for his collection …called Pere Marquette 303…must be one of a kind.”
“Too big for our house, Andrew”
“Dad will figure something out.”

When I came in the front door this tinware and steel engine was on the dining room table…filled the
whole table.   Some railroad entuaiaat in CHATHAM took a lot of  time  creating ir.

“But it cannot stay on our dining  room tablel, Alan”

So I dropped all tools and remodelled my worksop to feature the old 303










DOES ANYONE KNOW WHO BUILT THIS MOFEL ?  DID IT RUN? IT IS VERY HEAVY…I,E  WAS IT MOTORISED?


Pere marquette 1225 hi-res stock photography and images - Alamy

THE Pere Marquette 1225 was built in 1941,  RESTORED and still running our of
Mixhigan as a tourist locomotive.   The model we have is 303 which is listed but
I cannot find a picture.  
Pere Marquette 1225 steam locomotive, also known as the Polar Ex Photograph by Bruce Beck - Pixels


“What in tarnation are you going to do with that train?
‘Perfect for a World War Two movie…built in 1941…same kind #3030
survived the war…”
”
“Get off it, Alan….”
“Just for starters there is a moVle being made right now set in 1945 Japan and Korea.”
“So what?”
“There is a market scene set in 1945 in a train station.”
“Why would anyone want a train like yours?”
“Just a shot of this old train says 1940’s …the human eye looks for images like this./“
“Get off it, Alan.”
“You might  be right but I know two set dressers creating wartime Japan in 1945 and
maybe Kate and Elliott will have imagination.  Strolling through the market where everything
is up for sale…poverty.”
“And  the old model 303 catches the eye…or maybe just background to catch your eye”


WHO WAS ‘PERE MARQUETTE?”

michigansteamtrain.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/07/PereMarquette1-300×200.jpg 300w, michigansteamtrain.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/07/PereMarquette1-400×267.jpg 400w, michigansteamtrain.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/07/PereMarquette1-600×400.jpg 600w, michigansteamtrain.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/07/PereMarquette1-768×512.jpg 768w, michigansteamtrain.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/07/PereMarquette1.jpg 800w” data-srcset=”https://michigansteamtrain.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/07/PereMarquette1-200×133.jpg 200w, michigansteamtrain.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/07/PereMarquette1-300×200.jpg 300w, michigansteamtrain.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/07/PereMarquette1-400×267.jpg 400w, michigansteamtrain.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/07/PereMarquette1-600×400.jpg 600w, michigansteamtrain.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/07/PereMarquette1-768×512.jpg 768w, michigansteamtrain.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/07/PereMarquette1.jpg 800w” data-sizes=”auto” data-orig-sizes=”(max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px” sizes=”494px” style=”box-sizing: border-box; max-width: 100%; border-style: none; vertical-align: top; clear: both; display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;” apple-inline=”yes” id=”051E6449-B210-40FD-B461-3BFE931FF39F” src=”http://alanskeoch.ca/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/PereMarquette1.jpg”>

Pere Marquette 1225, the largest and most impressive piece in the Steam Railroading Institute’s collection, is one of the largest operating steam locomotives in Michigan. The 1225 was built in October of 1941 by the Lima Locomotive Works in Lima, Ohio for the Pere Marquette Railway.

The locomotive was used for 10 years between Detroit, Toledo, Flint, Saginaw, Grand Rapids and Chicago; hauling fast freight for the products of Michigan factories and farms, including war materiel when Detroit was the “Arsenal of Democracy,” producing huge volumes of vehicles, aircraft, and armaments. The locomotive is one of 39 2-8-4, or “Berkshire”, types ordered by the Pere Marquette. The superpower design was developed between 1925 and 1934 and used by over dozen railroads to haul freight at maximum speed and minimal cost.

The Pere Marquette 1225 is 15 feet 8 inches tall, 101 feet long with a combined working engine and tender weight of 401 tons, while producing an impressive 5000 tractive horsepower.  It takes about eight hours to generate a full head of steam on the locomotive’s boiler, which operates at 245 pounds per square inch. The tender holds 22 tons of coal and 22,000 gallons of water, consuming one ton of coal for every twelve miles and 150 gallons of water per mile.  The locomotive cost $245,000 or roughly $2.5 million by today’s standards.

The Pere Marquette Railway merged with the Chesapeake and Ohio in 1947, but the 1225 continued in service until its retirement in 1951 in favor of diesel locomotives. In 1957, the locomotive was saved with the help of Forest Akers; Dodge Motors’s Vice President and Michigan State University Trustee, who saw it as a real piece of machinery for Engineering students to study.

Displayed as an icon of the steam-era, it sat at MSU until 1969, when a group of students took an interest in the locomotive. The Michigan State University Railroad Club was formed with the ambitious goal of restoring 1225 and using it to power excursion trains that would bring passengers to football games at the university. In 1982, under the newly evolved Michigan State Trust for Railway Preservation Inc, the donated locomotive was moved to the former Ann Arbor Railroad steam backshop in Owosso where the restoration continued until 1985 when it moved under its own power for the first in 34 years.

Today the Pere Marquette 1225 is owned, maintained and operated by the Steam Railroading Institute. It’s part of the National Register of Historic Structures and is renowned for its role in the 2004 Warner Brothers Christmas Classic, THE POLAR EXPRESS™. 1225’s blueprints were used as the prototype for the locomotive image as well as its sounds to bring the train in the animated film to life!




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EPISODE 716 FAIRYLAND WITH BLACK BARN — THE MCLEAN FARM

EPISODE 716     FAIRYLAND WITH BLACK BARN  — THE MCLEAN FARM


alan skeoch
January. 17, 2023

The McLean’s built this barn in the 1870’s….same as the red brick farmhouse
and they farmed the stoney land for 80 years….two sisters and a brother . Scottish.
They also had a blacksmith shop somewhere near the east end  of
the black barn where the giant sugar maples grow.  

I remember Jean and Janet so well.  Angus McLean died before my bother and
I began hiding among the Boulders  along the fence line where Jack in the pulpits
popped up like little people.

And we waded in their swamp on the west side of the barn catching frogs oblivious
to the tiny black leeches that wanted our blood.

Jean and Janet treated Eric and me like the children they never had,

Now, in 2023, the McLean farm belongs to Nick Conn, Kevin and Andrew 
Skeoch.  The farm has come alive again.

It is a Fairyland today….decked out with hoar frost.

A month or so ago was honey extracting time….and last spring
was Maple Syrup tree tapping time.    Before that there was planting time
and firewood splitting time…

There are seasons in our lifetime.

alan skeoch

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THE GIRLS WHO MADE THE GUNS….THE LAKEVIEW SMALL ARMS COMPANY

EPISODE 716     THE GIRLS WHO MADE THE GUNS AT LAKEVIEW IN WW2,,  “THE SMALL ARMS PLANT”


alan skeoch
January 14, 2023

Who is this lady?



Some called these ‘girls” the “bomb girls”.  I would rename them the 
“Sten Gun girls” because they made so many of those World War II
hand held machine guns.   I believe paratroopers were issued with a sten
gun whenever a drop was planned.    Sten guns were made in other places but a 
great number were made In Lakeview, now a suburb of Mississauga. 

WHO WERE THESE GIRLS?

Around the mid 1990’s or earlier Our historical society organized a reunion of the girls who made the guns at LakeView
SMALL ARMS PLANT in World War II.
They were a feisty bunch who came that evening..  Laughter and tears.   Many oF them were 20  years old in 1940 thus in their 70’s
when we got them together for the last time.  Some got a little emotional To be sure, but my strongest memory is the noise…the joy…
as the girls got together for what they knew would be the last time.

NOTE:  I TOOK THESE PICTURES  OF THE GRILS/LADIES BUT NOT THE BLACK AND WHITE
MACHINE SHOP PICTURES.  I HAVE NOT FOUND THE ARTICLE I WROTE
AT THE TIME SO THIS STORY IS INCOMPLETE….A FRAGMENT SADLY…NO NAMES, NO 
MEMORIES.  SOME READERS WILL KNOW  MORE.  PLEASE FEEL FREE TO ADD TO THE STORY.


 Miss Francescini  ( sp?) , daughter of the sand and Gravel
company on Cawthra Road was one name I remember. 

I did manage to get some pictures of the laidies along with the machines they operated.  and somewhere I
have a writen record of the affair.

What I do remember clearly is how these ladies took over the meeting.  



“Women played a major role in the workforce at Small Arms Limited as can be seen in the cover photo making up most of the staff by 1943.  The factory produced its first weapons in June 1941 and by the end of the year had made 7,589.  By 1943 the plant was working three shifts, using 5,500 employees to produce over 30,000 units per month.  World War Two ended in 1945 and war-time production was completed in December with over 900,000 rifles and 126,00 machine guns having been produced.”





“Construction on the Dominion Small Arms Limited munitions factory, including the Inspection Building (then known on the site as Building 12), commenced on August 20, 1940. The first rifles produced here were ready for inspection in June of 1941. At the end of 1941, the factory had 1,200 employees and had made 7,589 rifles. In 1942, the factory was in full production making pistols, Mark II Sten sub-machine guns, Lee Enfield No. 4 rifles, ammunition, and a myriad of other military supplies. By 1943 the factory employed more the 5300 workers, 65% of whom were women. “












The demand for labour by wartime industries during the Second World War was high since many young men in the labour force were already enlisted in the armed forces. Small Arms Limited employed recruiters who travelled across Canada offering jobs for single women or married women without children with husbands in the armed forces. Hired workers were given free passage to Toronto for a good paying job in good working conditions. In total, the personnel department hired over 14,000 employees during its entire operation.


The demand for labour by wartime industries during the Second World War was high since many young men in the labour force were already enlisted in the armed forces. Small Arms Limited employed recruiters who travelled across Canada offering jobs for single women or married women without children with husbands in the armed forces. Hired workers were given free passage to Toronto for a good paying job in good working conditions. In total, the personnel department hired over 14,000 employees during its entire operation.

In 1943 when Small Arms, Limited was in full operation, it employed approximately 5,500 employees working three 8-hour shifts producing over 30,000 units per month. Approximately 62% of the employees in the munitions factory were women, who earned approximately 50 cents an hour. One quarter of them were aged 40 or older. The Second World War marked the first time work in munitions factories were opened to women. In addition to the munitions factory, the company also built a large dormitory for its workers, and engaged its workforce in many recreational activities.In 1943 when Small Arms, Limited was in full operation, it employed approximately 5,500 employees working three 8-hour shifts producing over 30,000 units per month. Approximately 62% of the employees in the munitions factory were women, who earned approximately 50 cents an hour. One quarter of them were aged 40 or older. The Second World War marked the first time work in munitions factories were opened to women. In addition to the munitions factory, the company also built a large dormitory for its workers, and engaged its workforce in many recreational activities. 




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EPISODE 716 YEAR 1955 WHEN FEW TEENS HAD CARS….HITCH HIKING WAS NORMAL

EPISODE 716    YEAR 1955 WHEN FEW TEENS HADCARS….HITCH HIKING WAS NORMAL 


alan skeoch
January 12,,2023

The year was 1955 when we decided to head to Lake Simcoe for a week end.  Nobody
I knew had a car….only Russ has even access to a car. So we hitch-hiked as did
lots of kids our age.  It was normal.  And being picked up was normal as well. Even
interesting.

“Where are you going boys?
“Lake Simcoe for the week end.”
“I can get you close…heading for Barrie myself.”

Conversation was very relaxed most of the time.  We were not alone
as hitch hikers.  Taken for granted that there would be boys here and
there with their thumbs out.   Rarely girls, if ever.   Common to be two
maybe three.   

Hitch hiking alone was the fastest way to get to a destination but it
was a little chancy.   One car picked me up heading from Wasaga Beach to
my grandparents farm in Erin Township.  The driver and two passengers
may have been drinking.  Not sure.  They decided to scare me by speeding
and weaving.  “This is not good”, I thought and waited until the car came
to a sharp corner whereupon I jumped out…perhaps rolled out.  Think they
laughed, That kind of thing was rare. So it was remembered.  Not rude were
great.


Hitch hiking in the 1950’s was a good cheap way of getting from one place to another.   That’s Big Red Stevenson and i
en route to Lake Simcoe .  Would you stop to pick us up?  Three of us.  My brother Eric took the picture.


My good friend Big Red Stevenson, brother Eric and I took these pictures in 1955 …. Here we are at a horse ranch which is rather odd.
Horses were obsolete.  No one seeks to hitch a ride on a horse.



Three boys hitch hiking .   We did not always get rides so it was a chancy thing.   My brother Eric and I do not look too
happy resting on s pile of rubble beside some highway.

1959 == HITCHHIKING IS MADE ILLEGAL

I guess Red, Eric and I grew up in the halcyon days of hitch hiking.   Another reason that our generation (the teen agers of the 1950’s ) were the
luckiest generation of all time.  Is this an overstatement?  Not so sure.  

Hitch hiking became more and more dangerous as more and more cars were built and sold….new and wider highways followed…increased 
speed limits.  Hence more danger should some kind soul decide to pull to the shoulder because Alan and his brother and Big Red are
begging a free ride.   Try pulling to the shoulder at 110 km some time.

FEMALE HITCH HIKER — ANOTHER SLIGHTLY RELATED INCIDENT — WHAT WOULD YOU DO?

A while ago I was driving north on Trafalgar Road and stopped at a red light
ar Dundas.  And a woman jumped into the truck.  I never lock the doors.  Neither
do you.  She was about 40 or so and not exactly dressed for a big dance.  First thing
she did was reach for my coffee money on the dash.  Grabbed a few dollars as fast
as a rabbit with a coyote after it.   Then she settled in…maybe even put on the
safety belt.   

I was startled and soon became scared.  As a high school teacher I have feared touching.
Especially touching female students.  Even shaking hands.  Teachers are considered guilty
until proven innocent when they touch students.  And some students are huggers.  They
like a teacher and hug him or her.  Not me.  I back off like that rabbit I mentioned.

So there I was.  Driving with a strange woman in the truck.  This
could be bad…real bad.  What if she screamed “rape”?  Even kidnapping.
I would be judged guilty until proven innocent.   What to do? My first 
thought was i would drive to the nearest police station  wherever that
was.   Perhaps Milton…a long way.   

How the hell would I get this oddball out of my truck?  She could take
all the change she could find on the dash or in the glove compartment
if only she would leave.   Now she assorting my road maps.  he did
no know I had a fiver clipped  to the sun viser.  At least not yet.
She never said anything.  Too busy rummaging
around for cash.  But she had settled in.  And I was damn scared.

Then I got an idea.  Why not get her to become someone else’s problem?
I reached Brittania Road and the light turned red.

“I turn left here.”
No comment.
“This is a good hitch hiking corner for you.”

And wonder of owners, miracle of miracles she unhitched the seat belt 
and got out of the truck.   I breathed a sigh of relief and made
my left turn even if  it took me in the wrong direction.  She was now
someone else’s problem.

I suppose you think I lock the truck door now when I drive.  NO. You
are giving me credit for too much intelligence.  Maybe you think I keep
loose change in my pocket rather than the dashboard.  NO.  Hard to 
teach an old dog new tricks.   The left turn idea is best I can do.

I think my police idea was best.  “Officer, this lady jumped into my truck
stole my loose change and I fear she might claim I touched her. Can
you help me?”
“Officer, this man touched me.”

Who would the police believe?

That’s a reverse hitch hiking story.

alan skeoch

HITCH HIKING IS ILLEGAL IN ONTARIO .. FINE IS $65

WOULD YOU BELIEVE THIS MAN’S STORY?

Is hitchhiking legal in Ontario

 | Jun 04, 2019 | Comments 0

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While it was mainstream in the 70s as the cheapest way to travel, “thumbing a ride” has dwindled to almost no takers in past years – due to dangers for riders and passengers, and the advent of ride share programs.

However, with the summer weather creeping in, the Prince Edward County (PEC) detachment of the Ontario Provincial Police (OPP) urges people to stay safe, and be vigilant with hitchhikers.

Constable Pat Menard, Community Safety Officer, clarifies that Section 177(1) of the Highway Traffic Act (HTA) states that no person, while on a roadway, shall solicit a ride from the driver of a motor vehicle other than a public passenger conveyance (i.e. taxi or bus). If caught, a $65 fine could be issued.

“The safety risk goes both ways when it comes to hitchhiking,” he said. “A driver deciding to pick up a hitchhiker is unaware of what issues that hitchhiker may have, or what reason they may have for hitchhiking at that point in time. Vice versa, the hitchhiker is unaware of who the driver is or what intentions they have for stopping and picking them up.

“As a driver, picking up a hitchhiker comes down to personal judgment and trusting that gut feeling or vibe. There is nothing wrong with deciding not to stop, or passing right by that hitchhiker enroute to your own destination. Drivers who come across an individual or group hitchhiking while in the County, are reminded to allow plenty of space, and be aware of your surroundings.”


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EPISODE 715 THE DAY I MET ELVIS (CHIBOUGAMAU, NORTHERN QUEBEC — SUMMER 1956)


EPISODE 715     THE DAY I MET ELVIS  (CHIBOUGAMAU, NORTHERN  QUEBEC — SUMMER 1956)

alan skeoch
January 11, 2035

OK  I NEVER REALLY MET HIM….EXCEPT IN MY IMAGINATION

But I did pass some time in Heartbreak Hotel….


ELEVIS PRESSLEY

MARJORIE AND I happened to catch an Elvis Pressley special on public television last night.  Seeing
and hearing Elvis brought back memories of my first contact with him.   His big hit in 1956
was Heartbreak Hotel which launched his career.  On a hot summer day in 1956 we ( fellow prospectors)
happened to be drinking beer in the Chibougamau Hotel when the owner set the needle on the
Pressley recording.


These images popped into my consciousness.

BIG EVENTS Usually go directly into long time storage in our brains.   Meeting Elvis Presslley was such

an event.  I remember that meeting in total detail….total recall.  Rock and Roll.  I did not know who Elvis was that summer
but I was overcome with his explosive lyrics to Heartbreak Hotel.



P33 Fonds Godefroy de Billy
Chibougamau looked much like this in 1956.  Only as I remember the road in town was gravel like the highway through the 
seemingly endless carpet of spruce tress to get there.    These cars are 1950’s vintage so the main street must have been
paved.   But only the main street.   In 1956 I do not remember as many shops.  The street was dominated by the beer parlour
in my mind.  Imagination?    It was called a ’shack town”, a “white” town (no native person wanted to live  there with the whites),
a “Mining town” in which  men who hammered the ore face deep underground were more admired than any priest or sunday
school teacher.  Elvis spoke to us all.


Well, since my baby left meWell, I found a new place to dwellWell, it’s down at the end of Lonely StreetAt Heartbreak HotelWhere I’ll be, I’ll be so lonely, babyWell, I’m so lonelyI’ll be so lonely, I could die

Sounds sort of corny in print but the song was a super hit in 1956… first on hit parade

from January to July.  And the vocalist, Elvis, was something new on the musical stage.
He performed….wiggled his pelvis.

We were drinking beer in the Chibougamau Hotel.  Our whole crew had been air lifted by Beaver 
from the bug infested boreal forest to the town for a little R.. and R. before we got back
to our Magnetometer in our search for chalcopyrite.  I was a bit of a prude because I did
not drink…. broke that rule a bit having one or two draughts of Molson’s Export with my
crew who were a mixed bag of characters from Joe, a professional alcoholic to two recent 
immigrants from Germany…tough guys who may have been  members of the
Hitler youth.  And three of us were high school students from Toronto.

It was around noon when we started drinking, The room was dark and dingy.  Lots of
cigarette smoke and spilled beer.  Small beer glasses in those days so we ordered a tableful
of them,  Mostly men in the room.  In those days men’s beverage rooms were exclusively for men
or men with ‘escorts’ so there were a couple of women present. Sort of hidden.  I only
remember one woman but I recognized her.  We had travelled together in a taxi from
St. Felicien to Chibougamau.  Five passengers none of which I knew.  All French Canadians
All rather rough French Canadian men.   We stopped twice to take a leak
on the trip.   They seemed oblivious to the presence of the girl.  

  She was stunning.  About my age. I was seventeen.  She may have
been twenty.   That was some trip.  Gravel road in which the mining trucks from
the Opemiskka copper mine had the rIght of  way. Spraying gravel at bay car that dared 
challenge that right. Our Driver charged extra for the hundred or so mile trip
because of the likelihood his car would be damaged from flying gravel.  I think he
did get a crack in the windshield or he already had one. 

 She was so attractive that I
was embarrassed when the other men just took a leak in plain sight.
 
And here she was sitting in the beer parlour which was jammed with men who 
were overdoing it on beer while the record player boomed out Heartbreak Hotel
over and over again.

She  got up and left a couple of times.  Always with a man…different man who
left money on the table.  With her was one of the guys that was also in the
taxi.  It took me a few minutes to figure out what was going on.  Then in a flash
I knew.  The girl was a prostitute doing quick tricks for her pimp.  I was devastated.

Could I rescue her?   Should I rescue her?  Wasn’t this none of my business?
No one seemed to notice the transactions except for me.  Perhaps it was only
my imagination gone wild on two draughts of beer.   I did nothing stupid.  Did 
nothing at all.

Although it’s always crowdedYou still can find some roomFor broken hearted loversTo cry there in their gloomBe so, they’ll be so lonely, babyThey get so lonelyThey’re so lonely, they could die


This all happened in one afternoon session.  About four or five o’clock we were
gathered together and ferried by bush plane back to our miserable camp site.
Joe F. was falling down drunk by then and regailed us with his sexual exploits
at his home town of Rouyn, Quebec…to Joe sexual activity was an open book
or maybe he just made up the stories.  None of them dare I repeat.  Use your
imagination.   I Liked Joe.  He was the gregarious type.  Later when our food
supply of bacon and eggs, rolled oats and canned milk,  pork and beans ran
low we called in a bush plane and sent Joe back to Chibougamau for grub.  He 
arrived back at camp so drunk that he fell off the pontoon into the water laughing
all the while.  He did not bring any food but spent our money and his time
in the Chibougamau Hotel.

The French Canadians I met did not like me.
How do i know that?  Because our line cutting crew were French Canadians and
they were fed less than we were fed, they did not get an R. And R. break but instead
were expected to get the survey lines laid out as fast as possible so that we could
tae our Magnetometer readings and report anomalies it there were any. Bull work.

Anomalies …. speculations … were profitsble on the penny stock market
back in Toronto where get rich quick schemes sucked he greedy into 
buying stock on places like Loon Lake Mining Company (a fictitious title from my
 brain).   On that job I learned lots.  

I was a Boy Scout…a Rover sScout…convinced that I could right the wrongs
of this world by my presence.  A bit of a prick really.  And a failure.  I did not
rescue that poor girl….did not even acknowledge I knew her.  And when I did
act In attempt to make friends with the French line cutting crew I was reminded
harshly that friendship was not wanted.  When I sat at their hand hewn table
one French Canadian jabbed his slashing knife into the table in front of me.
I still remember tat knife waving…it was a machete.  The point was clear. Two
Solitude. Get the hell back to your own tent.
Now, the bellhop’s tears keep flowin’And the desk clerk’s dressed in blackWell, they’ve been so long on Lonely StreetWell, they’ll never, they’ll never look backAnd they get so, they get so lonely, babyWell, they are so lonelyThey’re so lonely, they could die
Well, now, if your baby leaves youAnd you got a tale to tellWell, just take a walk down Lonely StreetTo Heartbreak HotelWhere you will be, you will be lonely, babyWell, you will be lonelyYou’ll be so lonely, you could die

Post Script:
1 ) Decades later when I was asked to write a chapter for a Canadian
history book for senior students, I wrote up my experiences that summer
of 1956.  In all its glory and brutality including the young girl.  I thought
my chapter reflected what has happening in Quebec.  The awakening
of French Canadian nationalism.   The reasons behind it. Guess
what happened to my chapter?  It was laundered…cleaned up…made
sotfer.  Beer parlour and sadness of prostitution cut out.



2 )  Beer was a discovery for me in 1956.  One of the guys smuggled a
case of  Molson Export into our camp and he gave me a can.  Dad liked beer so
I rolled the can in brown paper, printed our address (then 455 Annette Street
in Toronto), and stuck a couple of stamps on it then dropped it in the outgoing
mail.   It reached Dad.  He slipped it in the fridge, levered it open and gulped it
down as pleased as punch.  Told his friends that Alan mailed him beer
from northern quebec.




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EPISODE 714 PRICE PAID FOR HIGHWAY WIDENING JUNCTION QEW AND 403

EPISODE 714   PRICE PAID FOR HIGHWAY WIDENING   JUNCTION QEW AND 403


alan skeoch
january 10, 2023

On two separate occasions I chanced upon two distinct barns that were lost 
sometime in the last 40 years.   I don’t know why I took the trouble to approach
these barns.  I had a feeling we were losing something when a road widening 
occurs for the public good.

EPISODE 714   PRICE PAID FOR HIGHWAY WIDENING   JUNCTION QEW AND 403


1)  Barn on fire as we came home from our farm one afternoon.   South side of QEW just as highway turns south
toward the Ford plant.

2)  Barn about to be bulldozed.  “I was paid for the barn but wish I had it back.  So many nice memories.” said 
the former owner as he stood in the old sable.  North side of QEW directly opposite to the barn fire.


alan skeoch
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EPISODE 711 sequel to Martin and Natalie Leuthi’s wedding == seems readers like weddings (EVEN THE DOG!)


EPISODE 711   MARTIN and NATALIE’S WEDDING — SEEMS MY READERS LIKE WEDDINGS, A SEQUEL

alan skeoch
Jan. 7, 2023





Martin and Natalie Leuthi are happy type persons…the kind that try to see good in everyone.
they planned their wedding they wanted everyone to have a good time.  

 I am trying to replicate their thinking…
worm my way into Martin’s brain.  First off, he is a Swiss = Canadian…or Canadian – Swiss
depending on your preference.  Both nations have their idiosyncrasies in my opinion.  The Swiss
side of Martn is his attention to detail.   He is so good at detail that he now builds jet turbines where
the tolerances are fractions of the human hair.  The Canadian quirk in his personality is that
he is a happy person, at ease with people.  He exudes confidence and fellowship.

And that is why their wedding was such a memorable event.

Did he break the wedding up into components?  I think so.

First = The Stag. 



 “Alan, do not forget the dog?’
“The dog?”
“I was giving a speech at my stag and a dog came up behind me, raised its back foot and pissed on my leg.”
“Are you joking?”
“Nope , here is the picture to prove it.”
“Can I use the picture?”
“Sure.  It was a kind of reverse baptism the way I see it.”
‘
Second – Transportation





“Why did you rent that ancient bus?”
“People are often late for weddings,,,the bus will get us all to the church on time.”

Third – Location

“We chose a spot in the centre of Switzerland.  If people are coming they can use
the wedding as a starting point for a tour.”
“nobody does that.”
“My sister Gabriela and your son Kevin are planning that for you…holiday in Flammerans.”
“Joke?”
“Wait and see”

Fourth – The Church and the Minister


Nolan and Morgan Skeoch led the wedding procession



“Remember the sermon before the wedding, Alan?”
“I do…the minister had two wooden gears in his hand.”
“Remember the gears fitted together?”
“Sort of sexual image I thought at the  time.”
“Precisely and that was his point….a smooth running car depends upon
the gears…same applies to weddings.”

“And  Morgan and Nolan were given a chance to shine…hint to everyone
that Natalie and I planned to have a tubule of kids…and soon.”

Fifth – The Reception


Martin greeted everyone from a place on high







Everyone got a Swiss Cow




“What do you remember about the reception, Alan?”
“You gave everyone a cow….we still have ours over the fireplace.”
“What could be more Swiss than a cow?”
“Chocolate bar.”
“ the cow was more memorable.”

“And remember how we greeted people?”
“Yes, you leaned out the window with arms extended.”
“Like the Pope at the Vatican”
“Precisely, we are not Catholic but can learn from the papal greetings of the faithful.”
“Is that why we were housed in a convent?”

Sixth – The Food and Drink





“Sometimes people drink too much at weddings.: dangerous.”
“:But you had lots o f wine.”
“More food than wine….I think we had three meals rather than one meal…
stuff People full of food and accidents are less likely.”

Seventh = The Damce



Eigth =  Something Special – The Boat Cruise


The sunflowers must have some kind of meaning…I missed that.  Perhaps a reader knows.

And the ALPHORN…
“Something special for all age groups….kids to grandparents…nothing nicer than
an afternoon on a Swiss Lake with the Towering Alps in the distance…more food
available but less wine.  “
“The boat cruse kept us all together.”





NOW WHAT IS MOST MEMORABLE?   IS IT THAT DOG???

alan skeoch

Post script

Natalie and Martin now have three children, two dogs and a cluster of semi wild turtles living in 
a small pond in their back yard at Arisdof, Switzerland.  
Posted on

EPISODE 710 CBC WHITE WATER MYSTERY…NEAR DISASTER (we all have a shelf life)

EPISODE  710    WHITE WATER MYSTERY…NEAR DISASTER (we all have a shelf life)


alan skeoch
Jan . 3, 2023




“My head was bouncing like a tennis ball…hitting  the rocky bottom of the “——”  River
as our canoe had flipped over in the white water rapids.  I was trapped  with legs under the thwarts
…my body upside down…right wrist broken and pinned together,
left had clutching my camera…twisted to escape, failed… hope was gone then Mike  
gripped my collar and dragged me back to the surface.”

THE MYSTERY QUESTIONS: 

Where did this happen?
Why was the story never told?

WHITE WATER CANOEING — NEAR TRAGEDY




Disasters happen.  Sometimes people die.  Hate to think about it but our adventure
white water rafting could have been a lot worse.  I could have drowned were it not for
 Mike reaching under the canoe. .. catching  me by the shirt collar as my head bumped
to stoney bottom of the “ —” River.  I was trapped by the thwarts and only had one good … right wrist
broken and pinned together,,,left hand holding my camera.

Why no drop the camera, you ask?  Had I done so you might not believe the story.  Evidence.
Not fiction.

HOW IT ALL BEGAN

“ALAN, just planned a good story for you to do on CBC Radio…outdoor story…white water canoeing story.”
“Sorry, my right wrist is broken, wired together….fell off a cliff in France.”
“We can still do the story.  You are left handed and can hold the microphone while we do the paddling.
White water adventure for our listeners.”
“Suppose I cou;d wedge under the thwarts.”
“Great…meet you at the headwaters where the dam will be opened…only happens once a year…springtime.”

Marjorie drove me to the launching site and would pick me up later she believed.  There were other veteran
canoeists at the launch.   One man held the canoe while the adventurers loaded.  Must be safe for one
family had a little boy wedged under the thwarts of a canoe.  The water was foaming.  Canoeists were anxious.



I assumed we could handle the danger.  Flat paddling to keep canoe from turning broadside.  Our lead paddler had
the CBC recording equipment with a wire leading back to me. Mike was in the stern.   No time for adjustments.
Once loaded we were cast off and began the race down river.  Fast .. really fast.  

We had hardly begun when we met the first accident.  An aluminum canoe had hit a deadfall broadside.  The canoe
was bent like a safety pin.  No sign of the paddlers.

About then we lost control.  Could not keep the canoe straight…could nor master the white water.  We began to
pirouette … to whirl down the river like a helicopter trying to take flight.  Once the circling began we could not
stop it.  I gripped the microphone and hollered a few words for the CBC audience.  Or so I thought. 


 “The white water has got us.  Steer for shore!”
No answer.  Mike was trying.  We whirled by another canoe…submerged at the shoreline.   Canoeists alive
but canoe was lost.  Our canoe picked up speed…still whirling….no control.  This was not an adventure.  This
was an accident about to happen.”

Then it happened…Turned broadside … tipped over upside down.  Water was about six feet deep with boulders here and there.
I knew that because my head hit a couple of them.  I could not get out.  Both hands useless.  Legs near useless
under the thwarts.  Baggage and sound equipment in a tangle sweeping past.

I do not remember panic.  I do remember the unusual sensation of my head dragon along the river bottom.
How long?  Not long,,, seemed long.  Seconds only really.   Mike’s hand had me by the collar dragging
me from beneath the thwart to the surface and then to a small beach where some Canada geese were
gabbling.  Our canoe was filled with water now.. bobbing in shallow patch.

Then Mike dove back in the deep water.

How did I get the pictures. I saved my camera , must have been waterproof.



 “What the hell are you doing Mike?’
“Got to get the sound equipment.  CBC stuff.”

He failed.  Contents were gone…coats floaed away…CBC sound equipment must be bashed into scrap
metal by the same boulders that bashed my head.






HOW THE ADVENTURE ENDED

WE still had our canoe and, believe it or not, both paddles.  I do not remember how we got most of the
water out of the canoe.  I do remember the verdant wilderness where the accident happened.  Forest reaching
down to the shore.  Occasional shallow beaches.   I remember shivering.  It was early spring.   Trees bursting
into life…Maybe dandelions here and there.  Canada geese gabbling something unintelligible like “those fools”!
My right hand seemed ok , only swollen a bit more than usual….wire pins in place.



The river levelled out and there was no more white water.  We paddled leisurely.  Other cases passed us
confident that they had triumphed over nature.  We were less confident.  I shivered.  My arm sling was gone.
My broken wrist was swelling.   We beached the canoe and it was taken away somewhere.   

Mike and his partner were silent.  I am not sure whether my near injury or my near drowning was top of 
their minds.  I think not.   The loss of the CBC gear was certainly uppermost.  I shivered…soaked
to the skin.   Hopped on the bus that took me ask to the headwaters where Marjorie picked me up.

THE ANSWEERS TO THE TWO BIG QUESTIONS

1)  WHAT whiee water river was this?   The Don River.  You laugh!  The Don River is so placid.  Never
has white water.  And you are correct.  Except for one day each year when the dam at the
headwaters is opened.  One day off white water.  We were there.

2)  Why was I never allowed to do the CBC story?   That is a big mystery to me.  Having survived
I dearly wanted to do the story.  But the CBC management must have killed the story.  Did the loss 
of the CBC gear play a role?  Or was it fear of a lawsuit had I not survived?  Mike never said.’
One thing is certain.  My career as a CBC radio journalist ended that day.

Well, not quite ended.  I was asked to do a story on the Sam McBride, a Tronto Island 
ferry that was facing the end of its days.  That was my last story.   

Today, I think the story is worth telling.

alan skeoch
-white water canoeist
-former CBC radio journalist
-adventurer
-January 4, 2023

Post Script:  HOW MY CBC CAREER ENDED
“We do not need you anymore:” said my producer .
End of career.  Was I surprised?   Not really.  Another radio
commentator told me early in my radio career: , 

“Al, remember , we all have a shelf life.”

So ended my SHELF LIFE with the CBC.

Somewhere at the bottom of the Don River you might find that sound equipment.  Then
again maybe it was washed out into Toronto Harbour and Lake Ontario by the annual
white water canoe race.  No one sent me a bill.











Posted on

EPISODE 709 IMAGINE WHEN NIGHTFALL CAME AND ALL OUR WORLD WAS DARK….The Schneller Log Cabin, January 1, 2023

EPISODE  709     IMAGINE WHEN NIGHTFALL CAME AND ALL OUR WORLD WAS DARK….The Schneller Log Cabin, January 1, 2023


alan skeoch
January 1, 2023





JUST IMAGINE LIFE IN THIS CABIN…TONIGHT, JANUARY 1, 2023

There was a time not long ago when light at night depended upon candles and kerosene.
Imagine that.  IMAGINE  THE DARKNESS.  The sun provides us with the light and heat that miraculously created life on earth.
When the cloak of night covers us we can visualize…feel, as our bodies shake in the absence of the sun.

Every year for the past four decades the Schneller family move from their electricity powered
home to their log cabin in the garden where the only source of light and heat is a wood
stove, candles and kerosene lamps.  Dim….very dim.  Bodies move in the shadows.
Dinner plates grate their way from the stove to piles of food almost beyond the candle glow.

It does not take much imagination to understand what life on earth was like 170 years ago, around 1850,
when this cabin was hacked out of  a white pine forest in Perth County with spaces between
the logs chinked with mortar …mortar given body by the rank smelling hair of hogs killed to sustain
life.

Brad’s friend, Dave Poor, supervised the careful demolition of this cabin and its shipment
by trucks to Erindale in Mississauga.  His son Geoffrey was here last night as were the
Schnellers…Sandra, Bradley, Suzanne, David, Evan and Anne.   Marjorie and I have been guests
in this annual celebration of life for as long as this cabin has stood for 40 years or more…Honoured.

.  Nine people..nine shadows moving in the ephemeral  glow of candles,  kerosene lamps and  the wood stove.

 and then someone touched a switch to the New years.
dinner was lit by a surge of electricity that came and went in the twinkling of an eye..
just enough time to get one single photograph of our celebrants.

Time enough to to think of first inhabitants of this place.  Pioneer families were often large….five, six, ten children.  Yet their homes
were as small as this cabin…one single room, maybe 20 x 30 where a family ate and slept
and procreated.  Cursed and prayed…lived.

Unseen in the shadows, I flopped on the single bed and dosed off while the bodies around
me moved and belched, farted and began to get ready for bed on the floor or in the store room
up above where Brad has am endless war with red squirrels, raccoons, mice and skunks.
Perhaps a rat or two that Brad has never acknowledged .
And Other living things.  

The last person down blows out the candles and douses the lamps with metal spoon.
The embers in the stove will not last long but the heat and stink of unwashed bodies
will remind us all that our lives are saved by the miracle of exploding gasses of helium
and hydrogen in that ball of not quite eternal fire we call the sun.

Happy New year…2023! 



Shadows moving back and forth in flickering light of candles and kerosene.  Time for bed…on the floor because I am near asleep on the single bed in the room.



Should we disrobe? I think not.  There are not enough feathers in the comforter to keep us warm,   We will keep our winter clothes on our bodies until
the sun warms the swamp enough for us to peel the caked grime of winter from our boots, clothes and skin.   Hold your breath!

alan skeoch