Walking to school.

 What a different world we live in. Never were we kids delivered to or picked up from school. Nor do I recall any other kids being taxied in this way. I don't recall crossing guards or designated school zones all aimed at student safety. It seems to me, much of what is now being offered as needed for “protection” was taught to us by parents.

From our perch on Mackenzie hill (that's were we lived along with the Skinn family, the Stone family, the Redman family and the Dunbar family) , I (we) meandered down the hill  across the Maitland River bridge, often turning left at Davidson's Well Drilling, along the back streets, through the railway yard (God forbid), past I believe it was Bill Tiffin's White Rose fuel depot and on to the school just beyond the Crawford home. In the spring, the Maitland River often provided a real ice jam show, sometimes almost reaching up to the bottom of the bridge. Standing on the rails looking down, was just a thing we did not just during the ice break up, but more often in summer, as these rails provide a launching pad for a jump into the river. How we kids survived such dangerous activities, who knows. Where we under protected during these school days? It would seem so if one looks at how we are coddled today—looked after from door step to doorstep.

Seldom did we stop on the walk to school, but on the way home what fascination often awaited me (us) in the railway yards. The allure to steam engines had began for me at an early age, as I (we) was/were put on a train in Auburn for a 20 minute trip to visit our grandparents in Goderich. Watching the belching steam engine come around the corner on the way from Blyth, knowing it would stop for us at the Auburn station and deliver us to the end of the line in Goderich where there were always steam engines in the yard, sitting, belching turned around on the turntable, or shunting cars, fed my young eyes with excitement. What interest then I enjoyed upon arriving in Wingham and having this as a side show on my way home from school, Engines shunting fuel cars to the White Rose Fuel Depot, engines equipped with snow snowplough in the winter, passenger trains and freight trains. How interesting it was to once watch men as they tried to get an engine fitted with a snow plough get back on the tracks. Part of every stop saw engineers pumping oil from huge oil cans on the running gear. Occasionally they let me climb into the cab as they worked the yard, but more often I was told “no” to my shy request. How often I stood on the station platform looking east (Bluevale) or west (Lucknow) to watch the approaching train I had heard long before it puffed into sight. But the smell—the mixture of steam and oil, grease, coal smoke, it's one you never forget. Home I would finally . Past Jim Angus' Supertest station, Bert Armstong's Studebaker Dealership, again past Davidson's Well Drilling. Now one had to walk along the side of the road. Only once across the bridge did one rejoin a sidewalk up Mackenzie hill. Somehow, we made it through all the dangers that today's society either sees or imagines in such a walk.

It made my day if on the way home a steam engine was in the yard. Alas, it was a time of change. Too soon rail lines begin to close. Diesel locomotives began to appear. Somehow the trip through the yard was not so interesting. But during my first couple of years in Wingham, I was able to dream. Unlike most dreams, the dream of one day being an steam engineer and the memory of those days on the way home from school haven't been forgotten. They have been awakened, as have many other memories, by Bob's project to gather information from his classmates in grade 7 and 8. Thank you Bob.

Lyman Jardin

Port Alberni, B.C.

i remember watching Johnny Seddon diving off the TOP of that bridge,(John Hanna Memorial)we could actually see him dive from our kitchen window.

Bob McIntyre

Looking at the top 100 that was at the front of this section it prompted me to think a bit about what I was listening to in music and on the radio.  When we moved into Centre St in about 1953 or 4 I remember we acquired a rather nice Phonograph or phonogram or, as Harold Wild called it- a Victrola. or as I now know it a radiogram.  I remember it played 78”s which were the mainstay of the era but it also played the new EP’s which were out at that time on 45’s but I don’t think it played LP records at 33.3 although these were introduced in 1948  I am sure we didn’t have any and equally sure they hadn’t reached  Wingham at that time.  The radio was of course AM - FM radio was still a way to come yet.  I certainly remember my favourite  radio show - ‘THE SHADOW’ and those immortal words that started the programme “who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men - the Shadow knows ha! Ha1 Ha!”.  I was pleased to hear them again in the film of the Shadow many years later.  Apart from that my parents were into typical English easy listening - Mantovani,  and soft classics like The Dream of Olwyn etc.  boring stuff really.  I noticed that the chart of that era still had a preponderance of easy listening with Sinatra, Crosby, Martin et al.  Equally very boring although I do admit to having had a growing admiration for the range and style of Sinatra in later years.  The pop tunes of the period tended to leave me cold and the emergence of Grandpa rock and roll with Little Richard and Bill Haley did nothing for me either.   I was a great fan of Elvis and it is heartwarming to see so many Elvis tracks in the Hot 100’s of the 50”s.  I followed Elvis right through to his GI blues stage and tried to sing along with “It’s now or never”  whenever possible.  But Elvis wasn’t progressive enough after that time although, he was always the King.   I remember lying in bed in Forestdale, Croydon when the news came over the radio that he had died.  It was a great shock and very sad.   And at only 42  it was a great loss to the world although he had lost it a bit by then.  

But the real stars were only just emerging at the time.  We used to watch Ricky Nelson on TV and he emerged in the late 50”s with Mary Lou etc.  They were great tunes.  I suppose the biggest emergence of the 50”s was the Everly Brothers - they had a fresh ,clean sound that no one else had reached before.  I remember when returning to England on the Saxonia or was the the Carinthia (I always get them mixed up)  In 1958, I used to sit on the Deck decidedly green from the undulating North Atlantic.  The boats ( I never get used to calling them ships)  were not all that big - about 26,000 tons - even the Irish Ferries are 50,000 tons plus these days.  My mother was a terrible sailor, she could get sick on Regents Park pond.  The thought of getting seasick also tended to afflict me as well but it was mostly psychosomatic.   In later years during our regular trips across the notorious Irish sea I would sit there for hours eating and drinking without any after effects.  In those  days of the 50’s it was quite different.  For some reason or other the seasickness produced a kind of hypnotic state and I could actually play my favourite tunes directly in the head - full orchestra with backing etc.  It was literally like having a record player in the bonse.  Nothing like sort of remembering the song in your head   You have to experience it to appreciate it.  When we came back from  Canada we went from Montreal so we had a 1000 miles of the St. Lawrence which was like a mill pond but as soon as you get past Newfoundland all hell broke loose.  I remember sitting and watching one of those little freighters (the same as Paul came over on), virtually disappearing beneath the waves on every major roll.  It was very uncomfortable but i listened to a fair bit of music but it was mostly Elvis, Ricky and the Everlys. The Everly’s actually wrote for Buddy Holly but I didn’t really get into the Crickets sound of those days  it always seemed like fun fair music.

I was also thinking back about the TV we used to watch.  Alfred Hitchcock was on regularly and I think the Ed Sullivan show was also on but my favourites were Blondie -  (I would always settled down with a Dagwood sandwich to watch that) and especially Ozzie and Harriet Nelson - obviously where I got to admire Ricky Nelson’s work.   Another tragic loss of life in his 40”s.   We would probably not be able to stand more than a few minutes of the same shows these days although very  shortly after we left,  77 Sunset Strip started and that was a good show

 I think someone ought to do a bit about the FAVOURITE MOVIES OF THE 50’S AND THE FAVOURITE TV SHOWS OF THE 50’S - come on , unless someone rises to the challenge  in the next couple of weeks I will have to do it myself.

Brian Rider