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The house across the street from Art Hall, on the corner, was that Jim McIntyre Senior and his wife. While his son Jim was a happy cheerful fellow his father, Jim Senior, was a scowling serious man whom I never ever got to know and I do not recall the appearance of Mrs. McIntyre at all, Occasionally, they would be visited by Jim’s sister who was always pleasant.
From there, it was across the street north to what had once been the school teacherage, it was on the school property and was a beat up house surrounded by Maple trees. It was for me, the saddest house in Langbank, the head of the household was a nasty man, who work with my father on the railroad called, Mike Foster .(aka Mike Tosh) Mike was a drunk, a mean ugly drunk, at work during the day, he was a fanatical worker, often working far beyond what was appropriate to the point of being dangerous to himself and others, he was not popular with my father. He would frequently get drunk and would take out his hostility on his frail fuzzy haired wife who wore wire rimmed glasses, had the completion of white paper, their children were usually in the yard and they consisted of Louise, a year younger than me, the boy called David, and perhaps a couple of younger ones, all the children were malnourished, dirty and they were the village’s outcasts. The people of Langbank did not seem to intervene in the obvious maltreatment of this woman and her children, and at school, I remember that Louise and her sister, were horribly treated and teased as being untouchable and having flees, not actually, just a taunt. Billy and I talked about it a lot, but even trying to be nice was pointless, because the weigh of their discomfort was to much for them to bare. (Editor’s note: keep in mind that my observations were those of am eleven year old boy and readers of this story have taken considerable exception to it. Read what they have to say.)
Opposite from the school was the house of Ted Burnett. Ted was the village postmaster, his wife was not that cheerful a person seeming to always be kind of grouchy, but that was just the way she was. He had endless stories to tell and were those stories ever interesting. Ted was a veteran of both the first and the second world wars. Because of his age, in World War II, he did not go overseas, but worked as a prisoner of war guard somewhere in the Rocky Mountains. The day I put a ball through the window of the post office and the time I spilled ink the lobby were among my worst days with Ted, but there were many other great days that more than compensated for them.
Across the back alley from Burnett’s was the house of Jack and Mary Hurst and their son, Melvin, who was a friend of mine. Both Burnett's and Hursts had a dog each, black Labrador retrievers. Now I mentioned this issue before but it bares repeating, if you know anything about being a paperboy there is one and only one thing that makes being a paperboy a terrible task. Dogs hate the bag, they also don't like where your hands go when you put your hand inside the bag, they growl, snarl, bark and sometimes they bite. Jack and Mary's dog was normally a very pleasant animal, except when I came to deliver the paper.
Throughout this story Jack Hurst’s name comes up a lot and well it should. He was a cornerstone of the community, an elder in the church and everyone, not just in the village but in the surrounding area owed him for the favours he had done. He was an electrician, re-wound generators and electric motors, was a gunsmith, had operated the Massey Harris dealership and when we first came to the village his electrical generation plant mid way between our house and the co-op store supplied the village with electricity until SaskPower took over the task of rural electrification. Jack was a thin talk man with glasses and a million stories. Before the war he worked in Regina at the General Motors automotive assembly plant. He and his brothers were from Grenfell and I think he was an airforce mechanic during the war. Everyone in Langbank had their favourite story about Jack Hurst, he was truly a great man.
Mary Hurst had been a teacher at one time and was a fuzzy lady. She taught piano lessons and would sometimes be the church organist. He main accomplishment was Melvin. Melvin wasn’t just some kid who played piano he was an exceptional concert pianist and lived and loved music of all kinds. Mary had the misfortune during he fifties to be struck with a brain tumour. It was a difficult time for the family and the community but after surgery she recovered and lived out her life in remarkable health. She was a Sawyer with family members who originally came from Langbank. Brother Jack was on the family farm and brother Gordon was the principal in Kipling.
From there, it was across the back alley to George and Donnie McClement’s. George was an enormously popular man, he was short and stocky, like his fellow McClments, glasses and he loved hard cheese. Always kept a huge ring on the counter in the store and would slice of a dried piece now and then. He was the manager of the co-op store and therefore one of the most trusted people in the village. It is important to remember at that time all stores kept charge accounts, rarely did you use money to buy things at the store but when you got something your account was pulled out and the price of the item added to your account, then once a month or so you went in and settle up. George also was in charge of the dray, which meant that he picked up freight from the railway station and delivered it to the homes and businesses. Donalda, or Donnie, also worked at the co-op store and then became the manager of the new credit union when it was formed. She was joined by Ida McIntyre and the two of them ran the little credit union in the village next door to the co-op.
George and Donalda we're distinguished in the Village for having the second television after George Moore. In1956 their house was full of people crowding in to see this new contraption and it's snowy picture. They had a son who is a few years older than I, his name was Morris, he was pleasant, good mannered and an all-around really good guy. I have one little story about Donnie McClement, as you will recall, I am telling you about 1956 and in that year, playboy magazine published it’s first issue. Morris told us about it, Billy Brown and I were enormously curious to see what this magazine was all about and so we sidled up to be magazine wrack and held in our hands the Marilyn Monroe issue of playboy magazine. Well we got to see the cover, before Donalda snatched it from us, grabbed both of us by the ear and Billy and I were escorted out of the store. In the background, I did hear George was being scolded for having displayed the magazine.
From there, it was across the street north to what had once been the school teacherage, it was on the school property and was a beat up house surrounded by Maple trees. It was for me, the saddest house in Langbank, the head of the household was a nasty man, who work with my father on the railroad called, Mike Foster .(aka Mike Tosh) Mike was a drunk, a mean ugly drunk, at work during the day, he was a fanatical worker, often working far beyond what was appropriate to the point of being dangerous to himself and others, he was not popular with my father. He would frequently get drunk and would take out his hostility on his frail fuzzy haired wife who wore wire rimmed glasses, had the completion of white paper, their children were usually in the yard and they consisted of Louise, a year younger than me, the boy called David, and perhaps a couple of younger ones, all the children were malnourished, dirty and they were the village’s outcasts. The people of Langbank did not seem to intervene in the obvious maltreatment of this woman and her children, and at school, I remember that Louise and her sister, were horribly treated and teased as being untouchable and having flees, not actually, just a taunt. Billy and I talked about it a lot, but even trying to be nice was pointless, because the weigh of their discomfort was to much for them to bare. (Editor’s note: keep in mind that my observations were those of am eleven year old boy and readers of this story have taken considerable exception to it. Read what they have to say.)
Opposite from the school was the house of Ted Burnett. Ted was the village postmaster, his wife was not that cheerful a person seeming to always be kind of grouchy, but that was just the way she was. He had endless stories to tell and were those stories ever interesting. Ted was a veteran of both the first and the second world wars. Because of his age, in World War II, he did not go overseas, but worked as a prisoner of war guard somewhere in the Rocky Mountains. The day I put a ball through the window of the post office and the time I spilled ink the lobby were among my worst days with Ted, but there were many other great days that more than compensated for them.
Across the back alley from Burnett’s was the house of Jack and Mary Hurst and their son, Melvin, who was a friend of mine. Both Burnett's and Hursts had a dog each, black Labrador retrievers. Now I mentioned this issue before but it bares repeating, if you know anything about being a paperboy there is one and only one thing that makes being a paperboy a terrible task. Dogs hate the bag, they also don't like where your hands go when you put your hand inside the bag, they growl, snarl, bark and sometimes they bite. Jack and Mary's dog was normally a very pleasant animal, except when I came to deliver the paper.
Throughout this story Jack Hurst’s name comes up a lot and well it should. He was a cornerstone of the community, an elder in the church and everyone, not just in the village but in the surrounding area owed him for the favours he had done. He was an electrician, re-wound generators and electric motors, was a gunsmith, had operated the Massey Harris dealership and when we first came to the village his electrical generation plant mid way between our house and the co-op store supplied the village with electricity until SaskPower took over the task of rural electrification. Jack was a thin talk man with glasses and a million stories. Before the war he worked in Regina at the General Motors automotive assembly plant. He and his brothers were from Grenfell and I think he was an airforce mechanic during the war. Everyone in Langbank had their favourite story about Jack Hurst, he was truly a great man.
Mary Hurst had been a teacher at one time and was a fuzzy lady. She taught piano lessons and would sometimes be the church organist. He main accomplishment was Melvin. Melvin wasn’t just some kid who played piano he was an exceptional concert pianist and lived and loved music of all kinds. Mary had the misfortune during he fifties to be struck with a brain tumour. It was a difficult time for the family and the community but after surgery she recovered and lived out her life in remarkable health. She was a Sawyer with family members who originally came from Langbank. Brother Jack was on the family farm and brother Gordon was the principal in Kipling.
From there, it was across the back alley to George and Donnie McClement’s. George was an enormously popular man, he was short and stocky, like his fellow McClments, glasses and he loved hard cheese. Always kept a huge ring on the counter in the store and would slice of a dried piece now and then. He was the manager of the co-op store and therefore one of the most trusted people in the village. It is important to remember at that time all stores kept charge accounts, rarely did you use money to buy things at the store but when you got something your account was pulled out and the price of the item added to your account, then once a month or so you went in and settle up. George also was in charge of the dray, which meant that he picked up freight from the railway station and delivered it to the homes and businesses. Donalda, or Donnie, also worked at the co-op store and then became the manager of the new credit union when it was formed. She was joined by Ida McIntyre and the two of them ran the little credit union in the village next door to the co-op.
George and Donalda we're distinguished in the Village for having the second television after George Moore. In1956 their house was full of people crowding in to see this new contraption and it's snowy picture. They had a son who is a few years older than I, his name was Morris, he was pleasant, good mannered and an all-around really good guy. I have one little story about Donnie McClement, as you will recall, I am telling you about 1956 and in that year, playboy magazine published it’s first issue. Morris told us about it, Billy Brown and I were enormously curious to see what this magazine was all about and so we sidled up to be magazine wrack and held in our hands the Marilyn Monroe issue of playboy magazine. Well we got to see the cover, before Donalda snatched it from us, grabbed both of us by the ear and Billy and I were escorted out of the store. In the background, I did hear George was being scolded for having displayed the magazine.