PASSING OF AN OLD FRIEND REMINDS ME OF A FOG HORN, FARMER'S FIELDS, RAMBLE CREEK AND A GIANT LAWNMOWER
ALEX NAGY WAS A MENTOR - A SECOND FATHER - A WATCHER FROM AROUND THE CORNER
EARLIER THIS SPRING, A NEW FRIEND FROM AN OLD NEIGHBORHOOD OF MINE, CONTACTED ME ABOUT A BLOG I'D WRITTEN EARLIER IN THE YEAR, THAT MENTIONED ANN AND ALEX NAGY. THE NAGYS WERE THE LANDLORDS OF THE APARTMENT BUILDING OUR FAMILY USED TO LIVE IN, UP ON BURLINGTON'S HARRIS CRESCENT……JUST UP THE TORRANCE HILL, AND A SHORT DISTANCE FROM THE SHORE OF LAKE ONTARIO. MY FRIEND ASKED IF SHE COULD PRINT IT OUT FOR ANN NAGY, AND I OFFERED TO DO ONE BETTER. I HAD BEEN INTERESTED IN DOING A LONGER SERIES OF BLOGS, SOMETIME THIS YEAR, ABOUT MY EARLY DAYS GROWING UP IN BURLINGTON, BUT THIS NEW CIRCUMSTANCE WAS REASON ENOUGH TO PUT OFF SOME OTHER PROJECTS……AND "GO BACK HOME." I WAS PARTICULARLY ANXIOUS TO DO THIS SHORT EIGHT BLOG SERIES, BECAUSE I'D BEEN INFORMED ALEX WASN'T IN GOOD HEALTH. WHETHER HE KNEW IN LIFE, I WAS WRITING ABOUT HIM DIDN'T MATTER. BELIEVE ME, WE WERE SENDING EACH OTHER MESSAGES FROM BEGINNING TO END, AND I HAVE A STRANGE FEELING MY MOTHER MERLE HAD SOMETHING TO DO WITH IT……FROM THE GREAT BEYOND. MERLE THOUGHT THE WORLD OF THE NAGYS, BUT IT WAS ONE OF THOSE THINGS SHE THOUGHT, BUT NEVER ACTED ON, TO RE-VISIT THE NAGYS WHILE SHE AND MY FATHER HAD GOOD HEALTH. NOW THEY'RE BOTH DECEASED, AND I LEARNED SEVERAL WEEKS BACK, THAT ALEX HAD ALSO SUCCUMBED TO HIS ILLNESS.
IT'S FUNNY HOW THIS ALL COMES TOGETHER, AT THESE TIMES, WHEN COINCIDENCE SEEMS FAR MORE IMBEDDED THAN HAPPENSTANCE. CIRCUMSTANCES PREVAILED UPON ME, AT A CRITICAL TIME, TO TELL A STORY ABOUT THE FINE FOLKS I REMEMBER UP ON HARRIS CRESCENT. IT'S NOT JUST A STORY THAT RELATES TO MY CHILDHOOD, MY ACQUAINTANCES, MY EXPERIENCES. WE ALL SHARE SIMILAR SITUATIONS AND CURIOUS COINCIDENCES THAT MAKE US PAUSE FOR A MOMENT, AND WONDER IF IT ALL WASN'T PRE-DESTINED, AND YOUR PARTICIPATION ETHEREALLY INVIGORATED BY THOSE WHO HAVE CROSSED OVER. AS I WRITE ABOUT THE PARANORMAL A LOT, WELL, I COULD FILL A BOOK WITH SIMILAR CIRCUMSTANCES, WHERE I VERY MUCH SUSPECT DIVINE INTERVENTION HAD SOMETHING TO DO WITH MY PERSONAL INVOLVEMENT AT THE TIME. IN THIS CASE, A KINDLY EMAIL FROM A READER, AND INTUITION, LED ME TO COMPLETE A SMALL BUT SIGNIFICANT WRITING EXERCISE, I'VE BEEN PUTTING OFF FOR YEARS…….AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHY. I JUST DON'T QUESTION THE COINCIDENCE, OR FIND IT ALL THAT UNUSUAL, BUT THE TRUTH IS, MOST OF THE TIME, IT IS AS IF I'VE BEEN PUT ON SOME SORT OF TRACK, WHERE THERE IS NO WAY OF GETTING OFF UNTIL THE VERY NEXT EVENT, OR SITUATION.
ALEX NAGY HAD A POWERFUL AURA. HE WAS MY PROTECTOR AND GUARDIAN, AND HE TOOK HIS JOB SERIOUSLY. I WAS A LITTLE BUGGER, AND I WOULD HAVE KILLED MYSELF BY THE TIME I WAS FIVE, IF ALEX HADN'T BEEN THERE TO RESCUE ME FROM MISADVENTURE. ANN WAS MY BABYSITTER, BUT THAT'S TOO MODEST A TITLE, BECAUSE SHE WAS TOO MOTHERLY TO BE JUST A CHILD MINDER. SHE KEPT ME CLEAN, EXERCISED, FED, DISCIPLINED, AND WELL TRAVELLED. I OFTEN TRAVELLED WITH HER TO THE HOMES OF FRIENDS, AND I RATHER LIKED THE OPPORTUNITY. SHE FED ME CABBAGE ROLLS AND STEW THAT YOU HAD TO CUT WITH A KNIFE. ALEX TAUGHT ME TO ABANDON RESERVATION AT THE KITCHEN TABLE, AND HOW TO REACH WITH LIGHTNING SPEED FOR THE LAST DINNER ROLL. ALEX WASN'T MUCH FOR CONVERSATION WHEN ANN SET DOWN THE HOT FOOD. LIKE I SAID EARLIER. HE WAS MY MENTOR. AS A LOVER OF FOOD, I THINK I'VE CARRIED ON ALEX'S TEACHINGS TO THE PRESENT. ENJOY EACH MEAL AS IF IT'S YOUR LAST. ANN USED TO REMIND HIM ABOUT GIVING ME BAD HABITS. I DON'T THINK THEY WERE BAD HABITS. JUST AGGRESSIVE. IT HELPED ME A LOT WHEN I LANDED IN A BOARDING HOUSE, WHILE ATTENDING UNIVERSITY.
Alex was a vibrant, life-loving, hard working, gentleman who would spare a grasshopper or snake on the lawn, while he and I did the weekly mowing. He'd show me the grasshopper in his hand, or point out the snake slithering toward the cover of the backyard fencing. He took the time to show me how the lawnmower worked, and he'd let me push the mower, under his control, if I'd stop bugging him about things I wanted from his storage shed…..like the old suitcase and the wire popcorn basket some tenant left behind when they moved. I eventually got both, after Alex asked my mother Merle for permission to do so. "If it keeps him contented for awhile, please let him have it." "Teddy's been bugging me for weeks," Alex would tell her. "He'd could go on for years," she reminded. "Sometimes it's just better to surrender with honor, and let him have what he wants." I keep telling this to Suzanne, but she doesn't even blink. But I'm persistent as some Town of Gravenhurst Councillors already know. Then they'll appreciated how I forced Alex to hand-over that musty suitcase and rusted popcorn tray. I operated a one-man circus from that suitcase for about a week, until I found something else to hound about. My mother wouldn't let me bring either piece in the house because she said they were junk. It was no surprise to her that I became an antique dealer. I'm sure Alex would have assumed this was a logical transition from junk hoarder to antiques picker.
We all know dear people like Alex Nagy. We know them from our childhood, our teenage years, or early adult foibles, and later life associations. We know them as good neighbors, and charitable characters, who are always willing to lend a hand, or be a mentor in the event of a crisis. They're supportive when needed, and they are willing to listen to someone else's point of view, without ever once, thinking that a good response would be to blurt, "I told you so." It's true, Alex Nagy scared the hell out of me. He was as big believer in the medicinal benefits of iodine on everything from a scratch to a major gouge in the side of a leg. If I fell off my bike, I wasn't half as scared to see the hole in my leg, as watching Alex pawing through his shed, at the side of 2138 Harris Crescent, looking for his first aid box. The bottle of iodine! I screamed every time he administered that brown antiseptic. But I never got an infection either. He'd pat me on the back, tell me to be more careful riding my bike, or playing with my peddle car, and he wouldn't need to bring out his trusty iodine ever again. Once the pain subsided, by golly, I'd be looking for creative ways of gouging out the rest of my flesh, on iron posts, rocks, wood stakes, wire fences and of course asphalt, which was my choice for getting the most thorough and extensive scraping, from forehead to toe. Bet you've done the tarmac skid yourself. You probably can feel the pain right now. Don't worry. There's no iodine involved.
I was caught off guard, when we received word Alex had died. He didn't want me to cry as a kid, and I'm sure he wouldn't have wanted me to cry now, on the cusp of my own old age. I thought it would be better to put that energy into this small tribute to a fine chap, who with his wife and life partner Ann, made our family history a little richer, and our times spent together, so much more memorable. Just before my father died, we talked about Burlington and the Nagys, and you could tell, at that moment, he had serious regrets about not having gone back, and visited with the Nagys after moving north to Bracebridge back in the sixties. My parents were like that, you see. They had lots of regrets and they used to tell me about them……as if I would be the one to make amends for anything that had become disjointed or "out of sorts," as Merle used to say. I know there were regrets, and possibly a relationship snag I wasn't aware of……as I was a kid, and I thought the world had been made just for me.
We all know good folks like Ann and Alex Nagy, and we silently pray they will live-on forever, because it balances our world. It is selfish, and unattainable, but we just don't want to think of the world in which we live, void of these powerful souls, who influenced us for the better…..and directed us down the right path, when we thought the left turn was more interesting. I have told my family many stories about my childhood on Burlington's Harris Crescent, and I just want Ann to know, both my boys, Andrew and Robert, now young men themselves, grew up hearing my stories about Alex…..and our adventures in living the good life. I've lasted without tears until this point. I may have let Alex down, because he hated to see me with tears rolling down my rosy cheeks. I'm sorry for this Alex. This time it couldn't be stopped. It's just how I feel about a kid-adult relationship, all these years later, when I can honestly say, with pride, that I've got some Nagy traits……and values, that I will bestow upon anyone who will read or listen, about what good can be accomplished to an ailing world, by honest, hard working, caring folks……in every situation, every circumstance. It's taken me two weeks to find the words to write this little tribute piece, because I just couldn't stop blinding myself with tears. I have finally you see, arrived at the point, where I could tell my little story, and sense the calm and peace of my old friend's spirit……freed from a long and rewarding life, to an eternal contentment……where he may just spend his free time, giving sage advice to the wee scalawags, to keep them on the straight and narrow. Just no need for iodine up there!
To Ann I extend our family's heartfelt sympathy, on losing a life partner. I hope she will take some comfort, knowing how I've felt all these years, about these wonderful memories that seem so vibrant today……as if I could walk up that tree lined Torrance hill, make a sharp left at the top, and see that familiar apartment tended by the Nagys. I want to see Alex out cutting the lawn. That's the way I saw him, the day we drove in a luggage-loaded car, to our new apartment across town. I didn't want to move. That day or any other. The Nagy apartment was home. All the other stops along the way, were just places to live.
Thanks so much for letting me tell you another Burlington story. I'm just glad I wrote the Burlington series prior to Alex's passing…..at least for Ann.
I really appreciate the emails from those friends of the Nagys, to keep me informed.
See you all again soon.
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