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My next stop was at George and Sonny Moore’s. Now George Moore had run that little store for decades, it was sort of rundown but it was still patronised by the community, who had appreciated the service they had received from the Moore’s in the past. George was a pleasant happy man, his wife and died some years earlier and his son Sonny, ran the business for him. Sonny was a large round man in his mid thirties who liked a good joke. As a kid, I twice discovered a lump of coal in my halloween candy bag and one year a rotten potato, in all three cases, Sonny was the source. I think by 1956, they no longer we're operating the store, but that was the year they got Langbank’s firstTV. George Moore's house became a place with standing room only, as people huddled around the living room staring at the snowy box that sometimes showed a picture, maybe just a ghost and if the picture came in you might be able to make out George and Gracie Burns.
I usually then crossed the street to the north side and dropped off the paper with Mrs. Sigathy. She operated the village’s third grocery store that always smelled garlic. her husband was a welder and operated a repair shop behind the store. Though I encountered the man many times, I can not recall him having said anything. But, despite his lack of conversation, like Stanley Brown, he was overwhelmed with work, as we all know, most things break. The Sigathys had two sons, Otto was about four years older than me and Alex, was the same age as Melvin Hurst, two years older than me. Both were successful achievers going on to post secondary and careers.
Immediately across the street was the dwelling Dan and Neil McPherson. For many decades Dan McPherson was the village’s John Deere tractor dealer and after the war, Stan Brown worked as a mechanic for the shop. Dan's dwelling was a barn like structure nicely painted with neat oil floors in the large main showroom and a row of ageing John Deere tractors. On the west side of the showroom area was the living quarters for he and his bachelor brother Neil. Dan was a quiet man truly a generous and very well respected in the community. Even though his dealership was closed it was a yearly ritual for the John Deere movie car to be spotted in town and the school children during the day and the adults at night went to the railway car to see that year’s edition of the John Deere movie.
From McPherson’s, I walked across the lawn that was part of the lot for McPherson’s shop, over to the Pool elevator agent’s house, home of Russell and Josie Wallace. Russell was a serious, but highly respected man, it was he who gave me and Billy our very first jobs that was, to clean out the bottom of leg in the pool elevator for $.50 an hour. Josie was a schoolteacher, but at that time was not working, she wore glasses, had auburn coloured hair. She as a very intense person, often not too cheerful, a couple of years later, she was my classroom teacher and the victim of students playing “get the teacher.” I felt sorry for her and she would often fly into an incredible rage when the class became uncontrollable. Middle years children often lack enthusiasm for learning and did not share her considerable desire for them to achieve.
My next stop was only maybe twi hundred feet to the McKillop House. Mr. and Mrs. McKillop were a retired couple and had a monstrous garden in their yard. I do not remember Jim well, as he was not in good health and often remained indoors. Mrs. McKillop was a charming pleasant lady, possessing a keen sense of humour and very often providing the paperboy with a cookie. Their garden was really huge and besides the vegetables they raised some chickens and most years had a pig. Each year’s pig was named after their grand daughter Wilma Jeaan’s current boyfriend. I vividly remember the day that “Gordon” made his break for freedom, I was among the group of people who attempted to herd him back into his pen. One of the kids was swinging a small stick and using it to encourage “Gordon” on his way. An errant blow to his spine resulted in “Gordon” sprawling out in the garden and there were quick plans to convert the late pig into bacon and ham. Mrs. McKillop was born in the United States, actually in Arkansas, when she received her birth certificate, in the mid 50s, she discovered to her amazement, that it indicated that she was coloured, there was no indication that she was in any way a black person.
Through the years I had to sing both i n the choir or do a solo at a funeral, all of those occasions run together and I remember few of them now, But that is not the case with the funeral for Mrs. McKillop. I did a solo and it was really difficult to maintain my composure. Wilma Jean, Wilfred, my principal Anne stood in the front row of the church beside them Wilfred’s sister and her family. I knew each of them well and singing “I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses.” was really hard. But, Melvin was on the organ and cued me and we made it. They were grateful and said so later but for me, I saw it as a major test, one I would be able to build into my tool kit for life.
I then headed north past a garden on the left, the Gospel Chapel on the right, to Jim and Ida McIntyre's house. Jim managed the petroleum part of the Langbank Co-op. He was a large man, wore glasses, almost always had a big grin and I found out that he was a good guy to work for, when I went to work part time at the Co-op. Wrestling barrels of gasoline and oil was heavy dangerous work and tricky, Jim took his time to show me how to make them do what I wanted. His wife Ida was a McClement, her brother George was the Co-op store manager and their next-door neighbours were her parents. They had the newest and most modern house in Langbank at the time.
From McIntyre’s, I went next-door to the McClement household. I think that Mr. McClement’s name was Robert or Bob, he was very old at the time and his wife was also an elderly woman, but they craved their daily paper. Billy their bachelor son, lived with them and shared the farm with his brother Dave.
North of the McClement house was a large garden and then on the corner was the house of Art Hall. Art Hall was a bachelor lived in a little two storey house on the corner. He loved conversation and often Billy and I would visit him to listen to the stories he told.
I usually then crossed the street to the north side and dropped off the paper with Mrs. Sigathy. She operated the village’s third grocery store that always smelled garlic. her husband was a welder and operated a repair shop behind the store. Though I encountered the man many times, I can not recall him having said anything. But, despite his lack of conversation, like Stanley Brown, he was overwhelmed with work, as we all know, most things break. The Sigathys had two sons, Otto was about four years older than me and Alex, was the same age as Melvin Hurst, two years older than me. Both were successful achievers going on to post secondary and careers.
Immediately across the street was the dwelling Dan and Neil McPherson. For many decades Dan McPherson was the village’s John Deere tractor dealer and after the war, Stan Brown worked as a mechanic for the shop. Dan's dwelling was a barn like structure nicely painted with neat oil floors in the large main showroom and a row of ageing John Deere tractors. On the west side of the showroom area was the living quarters for he and his bachelor brother Neil. Dan was a quiet man truly a generous and very well respected in the community. Even though his dealership was closed it was a yearly ritual for the John Deere movie car to be spotted in town and the school children during the day and the adults at night went to the railway car to see that year’s edition of the John Deere movie.
From McPherson’s, I walked across the lawn that was part of the lot for McPherson’s shop, over to the Pool elevator agent’s house, home of Russell and Josie Wallace. Russell was a serious, but highly respected man, it was he who gave me and Billy our very first jobs that was, to clean out the bottom of leg in the pool elevator for $.50 an hour. Josie was a schoolteacher, but at that time was not working, she wore glasses, had auburn coloured hair. She as a very intense person, often not too cheerful, a couple of years later, she was my classroom teacher and the victim of students playing “get the teacher.” I felt sorry for her and she would often fly into an incredible rage when the class became uncontrollable. Middle years children often lack enthusiasm for learning and did not share her considerable desire for them to achieve.
My next stop was only maybe twi hundred feet to the McKillop House. Mr. and Mrs. McKillop were a retired couple and had a monstrous garden in their yard. I do not remember Jim well, as he was not in good health and often remained indoors. Mrs. McKillop was a charming pleasant lady, possessing a keen sense of humour and very often providing the paperboy with a cookie. Their garden was really huge and besides the vegetables they raised some chickens and most years had a pig. Each year’s pig was named after their grand daughter Wilma Jeaan’s current boyfriend. I vividly remember the day that “Gordon” made his break for freedom, I was among the group of people who attempted to herd him back into his pen. One of the kids was swinging a small stick and using it to encourage “Gordon” on his way. An errant blow to his spine resulted in “Gordon” sprawling out in the garden and there were quick plans to convert the late pig into bacon and ham. Mrs. McKillop was born in the United States, actually in Arkansas, when she received her birth certificate, in the mid 50s, she discovered to her amazement, that it indicated that she was coloured, there was no indication that she was in any way a black person.
Through the years I had to sing both i n the choir or do a solo at a funeral, all of those occasions run together and I remember few of them now, But that is not the case with the funeral for Mrs. McKillop. I did a solo and it was really difficult to maintain my composure. Wilma Jean, Wilfred, my principal Anne stood in the front row of the church beside them Wilfred’s sister and her family. I knew each of them well and singing “I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses.” was really hard. But, Melvin was on the organ and cued me and we made it. They were grateful and said so later but for me, I saw it as a major test, one I would be able to build into my tool kit for life.
I then headed north past a garden on the left, the Gospel Chapel on the right, to Jim and Ida McIntyre's house. Jim managed the petroleum part of the Langbank Co-op. He was a large man, wore glasses, almost always had a big grin and I found out that he was a good guy to work for, when I went to work part time at the Co-op. Wrestling barrels of gasoline and oil was heavy dangerous work and tricky, Jim took his time to show me how to make them do what I wanted. His wife Ida was a McClement, her brother George was the Co-op store manager and their next-door neighbours were her parents. They had the newest and most modern house in Langbank at the time.
From McIntyre’s, I went next-door to the McClement household. I think that Mr. McClement’s name was Robert or Bob, he was very old at the time and his wife was also an elderly woman, but they craved their daily paper. Billy their bachelor son, lived with them and shared the farm with his brother Dave.
North of the McClement house was a large garden and then on the corner was the house of Art Hall. Art Hall was a bachelor lived in a little two storey house on the corner. He loved conversation and often Billy and I would visit him to listen to the stories he told.