Uncle Russell

I received a call last evening from my sister Carol Ann and I knew the message before I returned the call. Uncle Russell passed away.This summer I missed the opportunity of a visit but he was resting when I arrived at his house and I did not wish to disturb him. It was perhaps better in the long run as I remember Uncle Russell as a younger, active and influential person in my life.

I was fortunate in having half a dozen uncles and four of them lived within a stones throw from my home. I had the benefit of four men who shared every minute of spare time actively engaging their extended family in healthy activities. Ma Vickers' boys used the spacious yard as a compound with their homes built around the family house.

The yard became a sports arena where horse shoe pits were built and used nearly every day. Ball gloves were in the outer porch and there was always an uncle to play catch and in winter a family size rink was built right in the middle of the yard.

All of my uncles nurtured us and made sure we played by the rules. Uncle Russell was probably the quietest of all my uncles but had a positive impact on our lives. He would listen to us and had this habit of looking at us and saying really when we spoke questionable statements. He would then not criticize us but give his patented grin and chuckle. He had a impish manner and expressive eyes that indicated to us his acceptance or rejection of our conduct.

Just after WWII when two of our uncles returned home there was a celebration at the family home. Uncle Matt and Buster arrived home and we as children were caught up in all the excitement. My cousin Adrian was in the kitchen and picked up a pack of Camel cigarettes. He motioned to Harry and I to follow him outside. We retreated to the old apple tree and each took a cigarette. These were not cork tipped but strong tasting tobacco. We had trouble lighting them but managed to send up a cloud of smoke. Our fun ended when this figure looked down on us with a big grin. He encouraged us to finish the smoke. I never smokes another cigarette in my life. I was sick, Russell never ratted on us but we paid the price.

The best experiences with uncle Russell came during the hot days of summer when he took all of us swimming at the back shore. It was a two mile walk down past the big pond and we always stopped by a small creek which oozed coppers water. He explained it was from the abandoned coal mine. That was the first time I was introduced to the word pollution.. At the back shore was a huge sandy beach in the shadow of the tailing's of the closed steel mill. We never ever saw anyone there except us. Russel had us running races and getting in the freezing water and just having fun laughing and making noise in a place that was otherwise silent except from the crashing waves from the ocean. He always said to point east and over there was England. We loved these times.

I got in a little trouble once when I disobeyed my Grandmother. There was a small crop pit beside the house and we were told to stay away. One evening after dark I saw uncle Russell removed the frame over the pit and placed a winch in it's place. He disappeared down a latter with his carbide lamp lit.. I saw this and tried to follow but the latter was tricky. Russel heard me and chased me up the latter. He was angry and told me never to do this again.  I knew I was in trouble but he never told Grandma  or Mom. That was the kind of uncle he was.

Uncle Russel was 90 years old and lived a quiet life with his wife and daughter. He will be in the memory of his nephews for years to come. He made a difference in our lives.

Funerals Bring People Together

The last few days back in Pembroke brought me the opportunity to reunite with people I have not seen for years. Some I saw at the last funeral but for the most part the people were years apart from our last greeting. We stayed with our great friends John and Joan and while there another long time friend Doug shows up and the line of people begins.

I will not attempt to name all the folks that came to honour Arlyss but a few have to be noted. My office boss and long time friend Betty was there and with my girls we had a good chat. It is a rewarding feeling to be once again in person with people who had such an impact on our lives. It gives you a quick look into the past and a warm feeling all over.

June and Janis and many more shared a few minutes but during those precious moments part of our life was rekindled. For the most part the people with whom Theresa and I mingled with were folks that had a history in my life and having the opportunity to for Theresa to meet them meant much to me.

As we returned to John and Joan's home before leaving for Oakville I felt that my batteries were recharged and our conversation during the five hour drive home was filled with a discussion about how all these people fitted into my life. It was impossible for me to fill in all the gaps during our talk but it was rewarding for me to be able to give Theresa some of the background so she will be able to put a face on some of the people I talk about on a regular basis.

Most people I know are right there in my mind and the time we are away from each other are just moments when we once again meet.I believe celebrations of life are just that: time for the living to understand the true meaning of their place in the natural order of things. amen.

Arlyss Is On His Way

The slumber room at the undertakers is quite large and designed so that people will come in, view the body, and then mill about and talk about the deceased. Well Arlyss did not agree. The room was as I described but the dynamics were quite different. Arlyss was down at one end of the room with a sort of half smile, and I kind of knew what he would be thinking if he were alive.

In life, Arlyss was a person who came into a room and mingled but never stood out. Today he shone the whole time. As in life, he was quiet and almost unnoticed but today the throng that filled the room were laughing and talking - and on every lip was a Arlyss story. He was the star and every person in that room mingled and met, some for the first time in years and  and the topic was Arlyss.

Maybe hundreds were there during the three viewings. What a term, "viewing" which opens up the idea of examining the body, but Arlyss had other ideas. He knew that by designing this celebration this way, that everyone who cared would come and re-unite in celebration of his life. He knew that the people who cared would be there - and they were. Friends, teachers, students and people who had been the recipient of his generosity all came out, and although he was not a vocal participant, he was there also.

Arlyss stories came forth and everyone had a happy face and a cheerful smile as the time was shared with the memory of this teacher and friend who touched so many. The two stories that bear receiving the printed word are as follows:

Arlyss loved cats and owned many. He lived on Mary street so word around the city was that Arlyss had the best CAT HOUSE in Pembroke.

Arlyss loved dogs and when his dog LUCKY died he buried him in the back yard. On one of Arlyss' visit to a flea market he found a stone to place on LUCKY'S grave. His mother came to visit and in her wandering about the yard, she found the grave. She was curious and leaned in closer to read it. It read.. "In loving memory of mother".  His mother was upset and when approached, Arlyss explained that although it was not appropriate, the price had been right.

The whole time we shared in PEMBROKE was immersed with memories from time shared from an earlier era and as we drove back to Oakville, my kids and Theresa felt that this celebration of life was truly an Arlyss moment.
  

My Friend Arlyss

Arlyss  began life on a small farm in Eastern Ontario. Eighty acres was a small farm but his Mom and Dad managed to make a living and raise two children. It could be said that all that is really genuine about Arlyss was gleaned through his connection with the land. He grew up and became a educator and served his students well.

I first met Arlyss when I applied for the position of Supervising Principal in Pembroke in 1966. He was the first person who engaged me in a conversation after I was hired and with a handshake we became friends. He was easy to like and during the years after I rarely heard a negative word pass his lips. He was a small person in stature but strong as any person I knew for his size.He wore a smile which often hid some of the hurt he felt from criticism and gossip.

Arlyss grew on my family and very soon he became a regular at our table and on frequent trips. I relied on my friend to gain the mood of the community and he was rarely wrong. I had a turbulent beginning with my career in Pembroke as the city was not ready for the changes I had in mind. Many times he came to my defence with staff and people in the community over issues. This honest example of loyalty became more apparent as our friendship grew.

The number of occasions when Arlyss appeared from nowhere to rescue the day with his help in providing beautiful food as only he could do were too numerous to name. Our family expected him to be at all our family gatherings and he became a true and significant member in our decision making. We valued his judgment and when I entered politics he was right there by my side. Many people questioned our relationship because we were quite different and lived life styles which seemed to be incompatible. He was there when we travelled to Cape Breton and Wales, and it seemed that whenever something was happening in our family he contributed to the occasion.

In Pembroke there was an elite club called the Friday night club and was held every week after work at Arlyss' home. This was a loosely organized group and when I came to Pembroke I saw the people entering his house every week. I was feeling that I was missing something and asked why I was not invited. He said that I might feel out of place with the group. I assured him I would be OK and the next Friday I attended . I never missed another Friday gathering as I loved the close relationship I  developed during these get togethers. The close group of Arlyss, Winston, John, Doug and myself still are close  and the group was larger but we were special.

Arlyss and I had a unique relationship. I trusted him without a doubt and shared secrets and information  that was very personal and sometimes vital to my position in the community. He never betrayed my trust. He stood beside me through the good and the bad and never let me down. He was a true friend and after I left Pembroke we remained close.

Arlyss visited us for years and always brought a joyful presence  every time he came. He shared some inner thoughts that showed  some inner turmoil  pestered him through his life but he never let it interfere with his relationship with our family. Arlyss loved my children and at all occasions he held them in high regard. Our children in return always thought of Mr. Young as one of them.

When I received the news that Arlyss had passed away I was shaken because I knew I had lost one of my really   genuine  friends. I talked to him about eight days before and he did not sound right. He did not want to engage me in a conversation and he was distracted. I knew something was not right and told Theresa so. I was upset but knew he would be OK. He always was. But this time he was not. I lost a great friend and was proud to walk with him through our 45 years of sharing friendship and considered him a really good person. He will always be part of my life and I will cherish his memory.

Garnett

It seems like I am writing many stories about friends who have passed away during the last few years. It must be the age bracket I find myself in as the frequency of these deaths unsettle me and I get a certain relief when I put to words a few thoughts about each and every one of them. In doing so I am reminded of the joy and sometimes sorrow attached to each of these individuals and how they impacted the life of my family or self.

Garnett came into my life when I was married in 1959. Garnett and his wife Shirley became close friends and our shared time and experiences enriched our lives.We not only became close friends but close neighbours during my university days at Laurentian. We lived across the street from each other and our families blended and bonded from the very beginning. Garnett shared stories of his early life in Sudbury and how he loved school sports where he excelled in football, basketball and hockey. He probably was spoiled being one boy in a two child family.

Garnett joined the RCAF and quickly became the captain of a  Lancaster Bomber used as a Atlantic Ocean patrol plane often flying as many as 18 hours at a time to perform his duty.  He met Shirley and left the Air Force and returned to Sudbury where he worked as an INCO employee. I saw his ability and practically brain washed him so he would return to university. He and I were some of the older students and managed to graduate to make our families proud. During our college days there was more than hard work as we held full time jobs but managed to participate in the athletic programs at Laurentian. Garnett was my coach in football and even played one game but took a heavy tackle and had to stand up on the bus all the way home from London.

At this time in our lives money was always a factor. For entertainment we played bridge and Garnett was very good at teaching  the rest of us the game. Drinking was popular but A&W root beer was the beverage of choice as you could purchase a gallon for $1. We shared meals and after we bought a cottage we shared some of the happiest and most memorable summer days. It was here when we literally lived together that we as friends bonded as did our children. Throughout the years we seemed to always be there for each other. On every election day when I was in politics Garnett and Shirley would migrate from Sudbury and be with us for the happy occasion. One election they were unable to attend and I lost. He seemed to be a lucky charm.

His two children were and still are wonderful examples of Canadian Youth. Resourceful and productive, fun loving and caring would be how I would describe them and much of that came from loving and caring parents.

Over the last few years we saw very little of each other but we did communicate and when we had the opportunity it was like old times. Garnett was lost when Shirley passed away and it was some years before Carol came into his life. She added that spark that awakened within Garnett that feeling of it is great to be alive. They did so much in such a short time but it is not the time you share, but how you share the time  that is special. Garnett had a few shared years with Carol and they never wasted a moment.

Our family feels sad at Garnett's passing but we have a whole pile of memories that can bring a smile and remove the sadness and replace it with joy for having shared some of his life with us.

Frank, The Polish Prince

Frank is our neighbour and lives across the street from us. Sunday morning he passed away after a lengthy battle with several health issues. I knew Frank for 12 years and interacted with him on many levels. We both like to garden and keep our homes well managed and you could see Frank every day trimming his lawn or helping his neighbours do the same. We often crossed the street in the morning to discuss the sports events from the day before. Frank loved the Yankees and followed every game. He was a small man physically but played semi pro baseball and earned his spot on the team as a catcher. Look at his hands and you saw hands that betrayed the arthritis as he said nearly every finger was broken at one time or another while playing baseball.

Frank was a collector of memorabilia and had a collection of baseball uniforms, pictures, bats and autographed balls which amazed my grandson who was invited by Frank to watch he and I engage in our friendly snooker games. He was good at that as well and always smiled in a knowing way when he won the best out of three. I knew he played golf and invited him to come and spare with my group who played every Tuesday. He came and conquered. He won the money on a regular basis, so often I used to accuse him of not knowing how to count. At one time he was a scratch golfer.

The Polish Prince loved his wife Renee, his dog Molly and his parrot, Mr. Beeks. This was a small family but he extended it to include his long time neighbour Grace who knew him better that most of us. He sometimes came across as gruff and tough but we all knew that was a veneer to cover up his soft spots. He had a cache of dog biscuits at his driveway and every dog knew it and stopped for a treat, He used to tell me of the gifts he bought for special occasions for his kids at the crossing of the school he guarded daily. He was tough there protecting his kids but loved the job and loved his kids.His kids loved him and showed it at Christmas when they filled his car with gifts to show thanks for a job well done.

Frank will be missed by his wife Renee who watched over him so faithfully during his battles with health issues. He will be missed by the folks who live on Falgarwood as he was a good man and neighbour. He will be missed by me because he was my friend.

Joe's Memorial

Joe was my brother in law until a few days ago when he passed away after nearly four years in a rest home /hospital. I first met this man when he began to hang around our store. He was always perfectly dressed and groomed and I thought he was there to see me as we always had good conversation. Actually he was there to see my sister who lived in the apartment in the back. After a while they became good friends and married.

He brought stability to the marriage and was a good father to Glenda's two children. He nurtured them as best he could and adopted them as his own. Many happy things happened in their life and Joe was so proud of his kids. For Joe to see his son graduate from university was a thrill and his daughters become mothers made him a happy grandfather.

Joe was a person who had several loves. He rarely had a negative expression but dwelt on his positive relationship with groups. His first love was for AA who he said saved his life and made him a productive and whole person. His work in this organization has been recognized over and over. I attended camp meetings with Joe as a speaker and saw first hand his contributions. In a humorous way he tried to recruit me but I told him I would stick to the Liberal Party instead. He always laughed at my response.

Joe loved the Rotary club and tried to live up to their code of conduct. He was very active and was awarded the highest honour the club can give. He served the club and the community with distinction.

Joe loved his work as a moving company manager. He gave me advice one day when he told me never to show your political colours when you are in the moving business. Well some people wear their heart on their sleeve but Joe wore the Tory Blue on his shoulder patch ... unless the customer was a liberal, or and NDP. You see Joe was a Valley Boy and had the gift of the gab.

Joe loved family and often spoke of his Mom and life on the farm in Renfrew. He loved his siblings and his children and he loved Glenda until the day he died. We in the Brown family loved Joe and shared his suffering and his good times alike. We were all better off for knowing this family member.

One by One

It seems that when you hear of death of a friend the event becomes not one but several. Last week my close and long time friend"s mother passed away at age 98. Last eve I received a call telling me of another grand old lady from the Valley passing away. She was 101 years old. Her daughter was concerned about her and expressed that feeling when I talked to her at the last funeral.

This lady was one of a kind and possessed that joy of living until the end. She was an independent woman and toiled all her life as a farmers wife and partner. She had a sparkle in her eye and a great sense of humour. One time I was buying meat hens from her. I used to buy ten at a time and they were large. As a joke I told her that if she couldn't grow them any larger I would have to buy them from one of her friends, Mrs. M. She did not say a word as I ordered ten more for the next year. I received her call next fall to say my chickens were ready. That Saturday morning I arrived at her house to pick up my chickens but something was different. We talked a little and I had a short conversation with her husband about politics and then the master stroke.

With a grin she said to get the box of chickens. This time there were three boxes and the total weight was one hundred and thirty five pounds. "Are they large enough?" she grinned. Well, they were the largest chickens I ever saw. I can grow them larger if you wish she said with an impish smile. She had fun with that and I never tried to get ahead of her as she was sharp as a tack.

Politics, business and family was important to her. When Pembroke celebrated its sesquicentennial I requested that she make a quilt for me as a token of remembrance. She and other Micksburg ladies made me the most beautiful quilt depicting the history and culture of our little city. There are many reasons to remember this fine person and she will be missed for sure. She left a legacy of service to her community and it is being continued by her daughter who has some of that same Valley spirit and come to think of it has that same twinkle in her eye to remind you to be on yours toes when dealing with her.

Losing these wonderful citizens is painful but seeing them replaced by their own gives us confidence that her spirit lives on.

Grand Old Lady

This week on of my long time friend had a sad moment as his mother passed away at the age of 98. She was small in stature and showed the character she possessed on her face. A simple farm wife who toiled on a small farm with her husband and raised two children. She was without complaint and even after her husband passed away she helped raise other peoples children bonding with them and was accepted as one of the family. She travelled far and wide and blended in the social fabric with grace and dignity.

On her visits to Pembroke she endeared herself to everyone she met and had a way with words expressing herself simply but with that soft smile captured your attention. Arlyss was a devoted son and drove the several hour journey to see her every two weeks and more often if necessary. It is at times like this that we come to grips with our own life and realize how valuable time really is. Arlyss' mom lived her 98 years in a manner that could be considered full and her devotion to her family and community was what makes rural Canada so important. She was a good woman in every sense and will be missed by those who knew her.

Theresa and I will be travelling over to the celebration of her life on Wednesday and will bring support to our friend Arlyss during his time of mourning.

Why Wait?

In the last eight weeks I lost a brother and a brother-in -law. In the emotional days following, there was an outpouring of love and friendship that was absolutely incredible. Brothers and sisters phoned and friends appeared out of nowhere. Family came together and we all had a great family hug.

How sad that it is death that brings together family who really love and are concerned about each other, but somehow let other things get in the way of that letter, telephone call or email. I am a person who tries to communicate. I have phoned some members of my family over the last 50 years and never received a phone call back. I make an effort to keep the lines open but I sometimes get a response that is so pitiful, that I could get angry. However I refuse - because the people who do not respond really are the losers. Hearing the voice of that family member gives me great satisfaction and makes it all worth while.

Why do we allow opportunities to escape and moments to be lost by not keeping in touch? This sounds like a rant - and it is - as I have been frustrated for years with the folks who sit back and come out of the woodwork at weddings and funerals. I am dedicated to trying to be a facilitator and communicator so our family and friends are in the loop. How great it is to hear of a new baby, a promotion, a birthday, or just a hello.

Tonight I feel lonesome for the people who are my family and friends but are invisible. We can do better and I will try to help ...

Celebration of Life

Our family attended a celebration of life of a favourite relative. We came together from several parts of the province and met the relatives and family of Arlen. We, as a family, felt the pain and sorrow of a life gone in a moment. We also experienced and witnessed the grieving family doing what families do during times of grief. They bonded, hugged and felt as one with the single purpose of remembering the loved one, in a time of focused energy.

The room was filled with a collection of neighbours, relatives and friends. We all watched the difficult ritual of closing out the physical life of their loved one. The feelings were electric for all, as we were able to project or remember when this ordeal was played out for one of our own.

Funerals have an important role for the living as they give us all a opportunity to feel and express that strong emotion of love and empathy. My family has had occasions to express these feelings. I pity the person who has not had the opportunity to be present during such open expressions of grief. It cleanses the soul and makes you a better person for having given yourself totally to your deep inner feelings. The group always strengthens the grieving family and reassures them that they are not alone during these low moments.

Feel free to grieve, and to have the freedom to love openly for the loss of a loved one. Our family did.

Arlen

Fifty years ago I met a little bundle of energy called Arlen. A shock of blond hair down over one eye and a smile as wide as you please. He was a student in Magnetawan Public School and was introducing himself on the first day of school. I was new to the area and was trying to put names to faces and I had no trouble remembering him.

He was very bright and mischievous and gave his teacher plenty to think about. Being a good athlete and competitor with a handful of close friends made his life pretty good. He helped to introduce me to Roma. Roma was driving him home and called in at Ray Kings gas station. As Arlen pointed me out to Roma she ran up on the gas pump protection. I was playing horseshoes and we had to leave the game to lift the 51 Ford to a safe place.

After that I saw plenty of Arlen and he became a great friend and later, brother-in-law. Arlen had to grow up too fast as his dad needed help and Arlen's education took second place. I knew of his potential and thought someday he would emerge and use his strength. A quick learner put him in positions where he sat beside graduates at McMaster studying complicated data and was never out of place.

When Arlen married Bette it was the best contract he negotiated. A union man for most of his life, he saw a good deal and the contract lasted all these years.He and Bette were frequent visitors to our home in Pembroke and made the trip with his children, a large dog, Bette and a guitar - all in a VW beetle. We all looked forward to these visits as his music commanded all the attention. He was good - very good - and our children probably picture him in his element with a guitar pick in one hand, a drink in the other holding court on some of his pet subjects in between tunes.

There is so much one could say about this man and his love for boating, travelling and enjoying the company of Bette. We will miss the times we were together and remember the high points that will always be with us. A short life? Not really, as he lived to the full extent of his ability to grasp each day in a meaningful way with his family and friends.

Our families will meet this week to celebrate Arlen's life and there is plenty to celebrate.

Ilakuktutiak Cemetery

A cemetery may be a peculiar place to find peace but I did when I was living up there. One of my duties was to provide the burial places for the dead. Since the ground was iron hard for 11 months of the year burial underground was impossible. The dead were kept in a small building called the dead house until the ground could be dug for a proper burial. I saw the anguish on the faces of the living when their loved ones were put there.

I had a plan to dig a certain number of graves during august and then cover them with plywood until they were required. First I had to get the consent of the Hamlet Elders. In old times the bodies were wrapped in Caribou hides and left on the tundra. With the coming of the white man and the church there was a change and Christian burials were deemed necessary.

A meeting was held and the elders with some reluctance gave me the go ahead to try the scheme. It worked and the community loved the idea of being to have the whole ceremony at one time. We had to make sure that we had enough graves ready and that was the only sore point. Some Elders had the feeling that if we had 10 graves ready they would be filled. I tried to have this process passed at the general assembly but it never flew.

I paid particular pride in the dignity expressed by the condition of the local graveyard. Each grave was marked by a cross with the name and age of the occupant. These crosses were made and painted by the local church. A master grave site register was assembled and the Elders and family members helped to complete the task.

Often I would visit the grave site to check for vandalism and record needed repairs. Because of the perma frost caskets would come to the surface and had to placed in a new site. It was usually quiet there and My dog Buck would go from one grave to the next as if to read the names. Foxes lived nearby and I could feed them by hand. These little animals are sometimes numerous and become a bother to the hamlet.

When I visit new areas cemetery's give me a history lesson and become a resource of knowledge.Our cemetery in Cape Breton is a must visit and brings back so many memories of loved ones.That is probably why I took good care of the one up north.

Brother Murray

My older brother Murray passed away last week. Murray was 76 years old and during all those years - other than the years he lived at home before he joined the RCMP - we met very few times. He lived a full life and had many experiences that few of us know about.

As a young boy growing up in Sydney Mines, NS he was a typical youngster taking part in all the usual activities which presented themselves. Sports were on his schedule and he played a fair game of hockey and baseball. One activity which took much of his spare time was fishing and he could cast a dry fly just as well as Dad. He knew the names of the flys and at Trout Brook he would use a black knat. This fly was so small but used properly it was effective. Dad tied some of these flys and Murray would have done the same but he had other matters to attend to.

Murray joined the RCMP as a 18 year old and was so proud of his uniform and kit. He looked like the picture boy for the force with his clean cut 6 foot frame and perfect posture. For the next number of years he worked in law enforcement in various capacities. He once was the chief of police in Sioux Lookout. While there he used his learned skills working with a large aboriginal population. He loved his work.

Murray married several times and fathered a number of children. He was particularly proud of his last two daughters and spoke of them in glowing terms in every phone call. I personally lost contact with Murray for a number of years but rekindled my relationship with him about twelve years ago. This came about as I was travelling through Creston and stopped in several times for short visits. All the years in between, Murray tried his hand at business and had a popular country store called Charlie Brown's Country Store at The Mira. Here he made the best pizzas and people would come from miles around to experience the speciality.

Once our relationship was reunited we phoned on a regular basis. It was during these hour-long conversations I discovered the brother I missed. Murray would often tell me in great detail about his experiences, and there were many. My sister Glenda hooked up with Murray about seven years ago and became close phone friends talking and sharing many experiences. Their friendship was very good for both of them and they lived life through their mutual need of a friend to share. Sometimes they spoke more than once a day.

Murray was ill during his last years and accepted his role by fighting the pain he suffered and concentrated on enjoying life through the TV and the phone. He did get around Creston on his scooter and knew many folks along the way. Murray and Glenda watched hockey together and interacted like brother and sister should. The only difference was, they were 2500 miles apart.
As Murray passed on I finally knew him and only wished that that all his family and friends could have shared those final years with him.