CONDOLENCES TO FAMILY, ON THE RECENT LOSS OF ROSS HILLMAN OF BRACEBRIDGE
CAME TO OUR EMOTIONAL RESCUE, AND TOOK US TO THE HUNT CAMP
READING THE NEWSPAPER JUST NOW, I LEARNED OF THE DEATH OF ROSS ALFRED HILLMAN. HE WAS A FELLOW WORTH KNOWING.
I KNOW WHAT A MUSKOKA HUNT CAMP LOOKS LIKE, FROM THE INSIDE OUT. BUT NOT BECAUSE I WAS A HUNTER. I KNOW HOW TO SHOOT A 22 CALIBRE RIFLE, BECAUSE I VISITED A HUNT CAMP AS A KID, AND I NEVER FORGOT THE EXPERIENCE. I KNEW THIS ABOUT THE HUNTING SCENE IN BRACEBRIDGE AND MUSKOKA, BECAUSE STELLA HILLMAN, USED TO BEG HER SON ROSS, AND SOME TIME OLDER SON GARY, TO TAKE US GAD-ABOUT KIDS TO THE HUNT CAMP, SITUATED JUST OFF THE FRASERBURG ROAD. WHY OH WHY WOULD SHE DO THIS, TO A BUNCH OF NICE KIDS. FIRST OF ALL, WE WEREN'T NICE KIDS, BY LOCAL CONSENSUS BACK IN THE LATE 1960'S, EARLY 70'S. THE HUNTS HILL GANG, MADE UP OF HIS YOUNGER BROTHERS, RICK AND AL, INCLUDED MYSELF, DON CLEMENT, JIM NIVEN, AND SOMETIMES, LARRY TOUGAS. SEEING AS WE KIND OF HEADQUARTERED OURSELVES AT THE HILLMAN HOMESTEAD, ON TORONTO STREET, MRS. HILLMAN (WE NEVER DARED TO CALL HER STELLA), HAD A RESERVED, "SOME DAYS BETTER THAN THE OTHER", THRESHOLD, OF JUST WHAT LEVEL OF CHAOS WAS ACCEPTABLE BEFORE SHE HAD TO DESPATCH US, TO SOMEONE ELSE'S HOUSE, OR BEG SON ROSS, TO LOAD US TROUBLE-MAKERS IN THE PICK-UP TRUCK, TO HAUL-OFF TO THE HUNT CAMP FOR A LITTLE BACKWOODS RECREATION.
ROSS WAS A GOOD NATURED LAD, AS I RECALL. WE LOOKED UP TO HIM, MOSTLY BECAUSE HE FACILITATED THESE TEMPORARY REPRIEVES, FROM THE NORMS OF HUNT'S HILL SOCIETY, OF WHICH WE REACTED, AS THE PROVERBIAL OIL MIXED IN WATER. THERE ALWAYS SEEMED TO BE SOMEONE YELLING AT US, IN THAT NEIGHBORHOOD, BUT WE DIDN'T MIND IF IT WAS ROSS, BARKING OUT COMMANDS, FOR US TO GET IN THE BACK OF THE TRUCK. HE WAS SORT OF AIDING OUR ESCAPE FROM THE JUSTICE SOME NEIGHBORS WANTED TO ADMINISTER, INCLUDING MY OWN MOTHER. THEN THERE WERE THE TIMES HE'D TAKE US IN THE SAME TRUCK, TO THE BRACEBRIDGE DUMP TO SEE THE BEARS, AND POTENTIALLY HAUL SOMETHING USEFUL BACK HOME. WE WERE ALWAYS LOOKING FOR LAWNMOWER WHEELS FOR OUR GO-CARTS, SO WE'D ASK ROSS TO HAUL A COUPLE OF CAST-OFFS HOME WITH US. WE WERE TERRIBLE LADS, FOR STEALING WHEELS OFF NEIGHBORHOOD LAWNMOWERS, INCLUDING THE ONES BELONGING TO SETH HILLMAN, HIS FATHER; WHO ON MANY OCCASIONS, WENT TO CUT THE LAWN, BUT FINDING THERE WERE NO WHEELS LEFT ON THE MOWER.
ROSS DIDN'T REGALE US WITH STORIES, OR IN ANY WAY, TALK OUR EARS OFF, THAT'S FOR SURE. BUT HE WAS KIND OF A "JOHN MILNER" CHARACTER, FROM THE MOVIE "AMERICAN GRAFFITI," BEING PRETTY COOL IN WHATEVER HOT WHEELS HE WAS DRIVING AT THE TIME. MOSTLY A TRUCK. I'M PRETTY SURE, ALONG WITH HIS BROTHER GARY, HE ALSO HAD A SOFT SPOT FOR SNOWMACHINES. THE LOCAL YOUTH OF OUR NEIGHBORHOOD LOOKED UP TO ROSS, AND GARY, AT A TIME WHEN WE NEEDED ROLE MODELS; BUT I DOUBT VERY MUCH, THEY WOULD HAVE KNOWN WE FELT THIS WAY. ROSS WOULD PROBABLY HAVE ASKED US TO PLEASE STOP THIS, DISBELIEVING HIS MODEST MENTORSHIP, OF WHAT COULD BE DESCRIBED AS "THE WILD BUNCH" OF HUNT'S HILL, COULD BE SEEN AS ANYTHING MORE THAN BABYSITTING; HELPING OUT HIS MOTHER AND FATHER WHO WE STRESSED-OUT A LOT.
WHEN RICK AND AL WOULD COME TO TELL DON CLEMENT AND I, THAT ROSS WAS HEADING OUT TO THE HUNT CAMP, WE WERE IN THE BACK OF THE TRUCK, LONG BEFORE HE COULD EXIT DOWN THE OUTSIDE STEPS FROM THE HOUSE. I DON'T KNOW WHAT HE WAS THINKING ABOUT THE SITUATION, BECAUSE HE KEPT IT TO HIMSELF; BUT GOD BLESS THE MAN FOR KEEPING US OUT ANY MORE TROUBLE, THAN WE WERE ALREADY IN AT HOME. BOTH THE HILLMANS, AND THE CLEMENTS, WERE WONDERFUL FOLKS, TO ALLOW US SO MUCH FREEDOM AROUND THEIR ABODES. AND IT WAS PROFOUNDLY KIND NATURED, FOR ROSS AND BROTHER GARY, TO HAVE TAKEN THE TIME OUT OF THEIR BUSY LIVES, TO MAKE SURE WE GOT A CHANCE TO ENJOY A BIT OF HINTERLAND RECREATION NOW AND AGAIN. ADMITTEDLY THE TOWN NEIGHBORHOOD, WAS PRETTY NEAT BACK THEN, BUT IT STILL CORRUPTED US, AND GOT THE LADS, MYSELF INCLUDED, INTO A LOT OF TROUBLE. A HIATUS AT THE HUNT CAMP, OR WHEREVER THEY MAY HAVE TAKEN US, AS A WEE RESPITE FROM THE SAME OLD, SAME OLD, WAS ENOUGH TO KEEP US ON THE STRAIGHT AND NARROW FOR AWHILE LONGER.
I HAVEN'T SEEN ROSS IN QUITE A FEW YEARS, AND I DOUBT HE WOULD HAVE EVEN REMEMBERED ME, WITHOUT DIRT ON MY FACE, A BLACK LICRICE PIPE HANGING OUT OF MY MOUTH, THE ARSE RIPPED OUT OF MY PANTS, AND ONE OR TWO BLACK EYES FROM NEIGHBORHOOD DUST-UPS. SUFFICE, TO SAY, I HAVE NO PROBLEM RECOLLECTING HIM, AND THE WAY HE SENSED IT WAS TIME TO GO; TO GIVE MOM AND DAD A BREAK. I LOVED THOSE CHANCES TO GET BACK IN THE MUSKOKA WOODLANDS, AND OF COURSE, IT HAS INFLUENCED ME OVER A LIFETIME. MY PARENTS WORKED SIX DAYS A WEEK, ESPECIALLY THROUGH THE SUMMER MONTHS, AND I HAD LITTLE HOPE OF GETTING OUT OF TOWN, OTHER THAN THE DISTANCE MY FAILING BIKE TIRES WOULD NAVIGATE. GETTING THE CHANCE TO ESCAPE, INTO THE WOODS, OF THIS BEAUTIFUL DISTRICT, WAS FAR MORE IMPORTANT TO ME, SPECIFICALLY, THAN I CAN FULLY EXPLAIN. SO I DO OWE HIM THIS RECOGNITION, AS A SORT OF KID "RESCUER", AT A PRECARIOUS TIME. GADS I ENJOYED THE EXCITEMENT RIDING IN THE BACK OF THE HALF TON, SOMETIMES NEARLY POPPING OUT THE BACK, ALONG THE CRATER-FILLED FRASERBURG ROAD OF THAT ERA. TODAY, THIS PRACTICE WOULD BE FROWNED UPON. BUT WE SURVIVED. NONE THE WORSE FOR WEAR AS THEY SAY. I LIVED TO WRITE ABOUT IT. IN ALL, I AM RICHER FOR HAVING HAD THE EXPERIENCES AFFORDED US, BY WHAT CAN ONLY BE CONSIDERED, AN EXTREME ACT OF GENEROSITY. HE GAVE UP HIS TIME, TO BE A GOOD BIG BROTHER, TO ALL OF US YOUNG PUNKS OF THE HUNT'S HILL GANG. THANKS ROSS.
I WISH TO OFFER MY DEEPEST SYMPATHY TO THE HILLMAN AND PAIN FAMILIES, ON THE RECENT, SUDDEN PASSING OF ROSS. MY REGARDS ESPECIALLY TO MY OLD MATES AL AND RICK.
MY FIRST RECKONING WITH WHAT IT MEANT TO BE A HOMETOWNER - A PROUD RESIDENT OF MUSKOKA - IT BEGAN WITH A CHRISTMAS CONCERT
WHAT IT REALLY MEANT, NO HOLDS BARRED, TO BE IN JOHN RUTHERFORD'S CONCERT BAND
I WAS COMING BACK TO WORK, THROUGH THE SNOW SQUALL, THIS AFTERNOON, AND CBC RADIO II, WAS PLAYING A CLASSIC SELECTION, (I'M NOT SURE WHETHER IT WAS "LOHENGRIN" OR NOT), THAT TOOK ME BACK TO THE DAYS, WHEN I PLAYED IN THE BRACEBRIDGE AND MUSKOKA LAKES SECONDARY SCHOOL BAND, AND COULD LOOK UP FROM MY MUSIC STAND, AND SEE THE VERY ANIMATED, RED IN THE FACE, SWEATING CONDUCTOR, JOHN RUTHERFORD, LOOKING, GLARING, DIRECTLY AT ME. OF ALL THE MEMBERS OF THE LARGE BAND, IN THE 1973-74 SCHOOL YEAR, I WAS THE MUSICIAN MOST LIKELY TO SCREW UP. HE WAS JUST MAKING SURE I KNEW HE WAS WATCHING OVER ME, AND PLAYING "THE NOTES AS WRITTEN." IT WAS HIS MOST FREQUENTLY CALLED-UPON STATEMENT TO ALL OF US. HE DIDN'T WANT US SUBSTITUTING WHAT WE THOUGHT SOUNDED BETTER. OR FOR GOSH SAKES TAKING A SHORT CUT, BY MISSING A FEW NOTES DEEMED UNIMPORTANT. HE HAD FACE CONTORTIONS FOR EVERY SHADE OF ANGER.
FOR THOSE FEW MOMENTS, OF IN-CAR CONCERT APPRECIATION, I COULD RECALL HIM SO CLEARLY, AND HEAR HIS VOICE AS IF HE WAS IN THE PASSENGER SEAT, TELLING ME HOW TO DRIVE MORE SAFELY. I LEARNED QUICK, WITH JOHN RUTHERFORD, TO GET ON HIS GOOD SIDE AND STAY THERE, FOR THE DURATION OF OUR WORK-PLAY RELATIONSHIP; AND ALL THE MOMENTS THEREAFTER OF SUBSEQUENT FRIENDSHIP, WHICH I LIKE TO THINK WAS PRETTY SECURE IN THE YEARS FOLLOWING MY GRADUATION. I WAS A REFEREE WITH JOHN, YEARS LATER IN BRACEBRIDGE RECREATIONAL FOOTBALL. HE PUT MUCH LESS PRESSURE ON ME TO PERFORM WITH MY WHISTLE. AS LONG AS IT WAS CLEAR AND LOUD.
AS I'VE WRITTEN ABOUT, NUMEROUS TIMES THIS PAST YEAR, AFTER HIS RECENT DEATH, AND THEN THE PASSING OF HIS WIFE DOROTHY, JOHN HAD A BIG HEART. BEYOND THE BLUSTER OF HIS ROLE AS "CONDUCTOR," HE WAS A PRETTY AMICABLE FELLOW. I ONCE MISTAKENLY CALLED HIM MAESTRO, AND HE BURNED A HOLE WRITE THROUGH ME, WITH HIS GLARE, BECAUSE HE THOUGHT I WAS BEING A SMART ASS. THE ONLY OTHER TIME HE SHOWED A MINOR AMOUNT OF ANGER AT ME, WAS WHEN MY BARITONE, IN ITS CASE, CAME TUMBLING OFF THE ROTATING BAGGAGE WHEEL, AT LONDON'S HEATHROW AIRPORT, BROKE FREE OF THE CASE THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE WRAPPED WITH TAPE, AND SLID ALONG THE FLOOR UNTIL STOPPING AT THE TOES OF HIS WELL-SHINED BOOTS. I STOOD THERE, WONDERING HOW HIGH HE WAS GOING TO JUMP, AND IF MY CRYING WOULD MELLOW HIM OUT A TAD.
MY ENTRY INTO WHAT WOULD BECOME KNOWN AS "THE ENGLAND TOUR BAND OF 1974," ALSO CAME IN MY FINAL YEAR OF HIGH SCHOOL. I HAD BEEN IN THE MUSIC PROGRAM, TAUGHT BY JOHN RUTHERFORD, SINCE GRADE NINE, AND IT WASN'T UNTIL NOVEMBER OF MY LAST YEAR, THAT HE CAME TO ME WITH AN IDEA. IF I COULD UPGRADE MYSELF AND LEARN THE PLAY-LIST, SET FOR THE ENGLAND TOUR, COMING UP IN MARCH OF '74, I COULD JOIN THE BAND ON A PROBATIONARY BASIS. IF I COULD PASS MUSTER, IT WOULD ALSO GIVE ME THE OPPORTUNITY TO TRAVEL TO ENGLAND WITH THE TOUR BAND. I WAS EAGER TO PLEASE THE MAN, AND PROVE THAT I COULD BE THE BEST BARITONE PLAYER IN THE WHOLE BAND. WELL, THAT DIDN'T HAPPEN, BUT WITH THE HELP OF BAND-MADE FRASER WRIGHT, AND THE LATE, TIM ROWE, WHO HAD MENTORED ME FROM GRADE NINE, I WAS ABLE TO IMPROVE A GREAT DEAL IN A MATTER OF SEVERAL MONTHS. WHAT THAT QUALIFIED ME FOR, OUTSIDE OF THREE SANTA CLAUS PARADES, WAS TO BE INVITED TO PLAY AT THE ANNUAL CHRISTMAS CONCERT AT THE SCHOOL. THIS WAS AN EVENING CONCERT AND OUR PARENTS AND MEMBERS OF THE COMMUNITY WERE INVITED TO ATTEND. MONEY RAISED WAS TO BE USED TO HELP OFFSET COSTS OF THE COMING TRIP TO ENGLAND. I WAS SO HONORED TO BE INCLUDED IN THIS CONCERT, THAT I DID PLAY "THE MUSIC AS WRITTEN," AND I ONLY GOT FOUR OR FIVE ELBOWS FROM FRASER, SITTING BESIDE, AND JUST ONE ICY GLARE FROM THE CONDUCTOR. IT WAS A GREAT NIGHT FOR ME, AND IT BUILT MY CONFIDENCE, THAT I COULD MASTER THE MORE CHALLENGING PIECES, WE HAD PLANNED FOR THE ENGLAND TRIP, INCLUDING "LOHENGRIN," "THUNDERCREST," AND "THE LONDON SYMPHONY." IF YOU KNOW THESE WORKS, GOSH, I WAS PRESSED TO THE LIMIT, TO CATCH UP WITH MY PLAYING SHORTFALLS, WHICH NUMBERED IN THE TENS, BUT THANKFULLY NOT IN THE HUNDREDS.
THE POINT OF THIS SHORT BLOG ENTRY, AS PART OF THIS CHRISTMAS IN MUSKOKA COLLECTION OF BLOGS, IS TO HIGHLIGHT THE VERY FIRST TIME IN MY RELATIONSHIP WITH BRACEBRIDGE AND MUSKOKA, ONTARIO, AS A RELATIVE NEWCOMER TO TH.E REGION, THAT I FELT ENORMOUS PRIDE IN THE COMMUNITY I WAS REPRESENTING. I HAD PLAYED HOCKEY ON NUMEROUS ALL STAR TEAMS, AND PLAYED IN MANY OPPOSITION RINKS AROUND THE PROVINCE, JUST AS I HAD FOR BASEBALL AS WELL. BUT THERE WAS NOTHING AS GRAND, AS BEING IN FRONT OF JOHN RUTHERFORD, IN HIS POWERFUL DIRECTORSHIP STANCE, OCCASIONALLY LOOKING OVER HIS GLASSES, TO SEE IF I WAS PLAYING UP TO SNUFF. HE'D OFTEN PIVOT JUST A LITTLE, BUT NOT MAKING IT SEEM AN OBVIOUS SNEAK PEEK, IN ORDER TO SEE THE INTENSE, SERIOUS FOCUS OF THE AUDIENCE, LISTENING TO WHAT I FELT, AND HE HOPED, WAS THE SOUND OF BEAUTIFUL MUSIC. AND THE BEST PART, WAS JOHN CONSIDERED ME A DECENT CONTRIBUTOR TO THAT FULL SOUND A REALLY GOOD CONCERT BAND CAN PROJECT.
IT WAS IN ENGLAND, THAT SPRING, WHEN I FIRST UNDERSTOOD, THE IMPORTANCE OF HAVING A GOOD RELATIONSHIP WITH ONE'S HOMETOWN. I LEFT MY FORMER HOME OF BURLINGTON, AT A YOUNG AGE, LONG BEFORE I EVER HAD THE CHANCE TO REPRESENT IT, IN SPORTS OR POTENTIALLY AS A MEMBER OF THEIR LIONS CLUB BAND. AT THE TIME OF MY WRAP-UP YEAR AT HIGH SCHOOL, I HAD BEGUN TO UNDERSTAND, THAT THE TOWN I WAS ABOUT TO LEAVE, TO STUDY AT UNIVERSITY, HAD BEEN A PRETTY SUPPORTIVE, AND NURTURING HOME TOWN. WHEN WE BEGAN TOURING AROUND ENGLAND, AND STAYING IN THE CITY OF NOTTINGHAM, IT REALLY HIT ME, THIS PRIDE FOR ONE'S HOME TURF. I FOUND OUT JUST HOW MUCH PRIDE I ACTUALLY POSSESSED FOR BRACEBRIDGE AND MUSKOKA GENERALLY. OUR ENGLISH MATES KNEW WE WERE FROM CANADA, (ONE OF THE COLONIES) BUT THEY WERE PARTICULARLY INTERESTED, TO FIND OUT MORE ABOUT THIS PLACE CALLED MUSKOKA, AND IF THE BRACEBRIDGE WE CALLED HOME BASE, WAS RELATED TO THE BUROUGH OF "BRACEBRIDGE" IN LINCOLNSHIRE. I DIDN'T KNOW HOW TO ANSWER THAT QUESTION THEN, BUT I DO NOW. NO! BRACEBRIDGE WAS NAMED AFTER WASHINGTON IRVING'S BOOK, "BRACEBRIDGE HALL," BUT IT WAS INSPIRED BY THE AUTHOR'S FORMER TRAVELS IN ENGLAND. IT WAS THE FASCINATION WITH THIS HINTERLAND OF MUSKOKA, THAT REALLY GOT ME THINKING, THAT IF THEY KNEW SOMETHING ABOUT IT, FROM THEIR OWN SCHOOL STUDIES, IT MUST BE MORE SIGNIFICANT THAN I HAD PREVIOUSLY GIVEN CREDIT. I LOVED MUSKOKA, EVEN AS A KID, BECAUSE QUITE HONESTLY, I HAD HATED CITY-LIFE. I JUST WASN'T TOO SURE IF, POSSIBLY, IT WAS TOO RURAL, TOO SOON. I HAD BEEN LOOKING FORWARD TO MY MOVE IN SEPTEMBER TO TORONTO, TO START UNIVERSITY, WHICH WOULD ULTIMATELY DECIDE WHETHER I WAS MORE URBAN INCLINED, OR BEST SUITED TO A RURAL EXISTENCE. YOU CAN GUESS HOW THAT WORKED OUT.
WHEN WE PERFORMED IN ENGLAND, AFTER JOHN HAD GIVEN HIS STANDARD, SHORT AND TO THE POINT PRESENTATION, ABOUT WHERE BRACEBRIDGE WAS, IN CANADA, I FELT TEARS WELLING IN MY EYES, EVERY TIME THE MAN STEPPED ONTO THE PODIUM, TAPPED HIS BATON ON THE MUSIC STAND, AND RAISED IT TO PREPARE US FOR THE ADVENTURE TO COME. WHILE HE WAS AN EXCELLENT CONDUCTOR, AND A MASTER AT CRAFTING MUSICIANS OUT OF A UNIQUE BUT PRETTY AVERAGE GROUPING OF STUDENTS, IT WAS HIS OWN VISIBLE PRIDE, DEEP AS THE FURROWS ON HIS BROW, IN HIS BRACEBRIDGE BAND, PERFORMING TO THE LEVEL HE HAD ALWAYS TRUSTED WE COULD ACHIEVE. HIS CONFIDENCE IN US, WHICH HE WORE LIKE A BADE OF HONOR, MADE US, IN RETURN, WILDLY PASSIONATE ABOUT REPRESENTING CANADA, BRACEBRIDGE AND THE DISTRICT OF MUSKOKA. I HAD GONE FROM NEVER THINKING ABOUT WHAT IT MEANT TO BE FROM BRACEBRIDGE, TO THIS PINNACLE OF EXCITEMENT, WHEN OUR CONCERTS MEANT SO MUCH MORE THAN JUST ENTERTAINING A GROUP OF PEOPLE IN ANOTHER COUNTRY. WE WOULD HAVE TAKEN A BULLET FOR THE MAN. TAKEN A BULLET FOR THE GOOD NAME OF OUR TOWN. I WAS SHOCKED FRANKLY, BY MY OWN ATTITUDE SHIFT. IT'S NOT THAT I WASN'T PROUD OF MY TOWN, BEFORE JOINING THE BAND, BUT EVEN IN THE BIGGEST HOCKEY GAMES OF THE SEASON, I DIDN'T HAVE THE "HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS," FEELING. MAYBE IT'S WHY I DIDN'T GET SHUT-OUTS IN THOSE CHAMPIONSHIP GAMES. AS COMPARED TO MY SENSE OF PRIDE WITH THE BMLSS CONCERT BAND, THERE WAS NO COMPARISON TO MAKE. JOHN RUTHERFORD WAS A CHEER LEADER, IN A MOST SUBTLE WAY, AND INSTILLED IN US ALL, THAT WE WERE REPRESENTING OUR REGION OF ONTARIO, AND OUR HOMETOWN; AND IT WAS THE REASON, WHY WE HAD TO HIT EVERY NOTE (AS WRITTEN), AND LIVE UP TO EVERY STANDARD. AS HE SET OUT FOR US TO FOLLOW. IT WASN'T ANY EASY PATH TO FOLLOW, AND HE DIDN'T MAKE ANYTHING IN THOSE DAYS, PREDICTABLE OR CONVENIENT. BUT HE ACCOMPLISHED SOMETHING, EVERY ONE OF US HAD TO ADMIT; AND THAT WAS, HE KNEW HOW TO MOTIVATE HIS UNDERLINGS, TO DO THE IMPOSSIBLE, AND THEN ASK FOR THE NEXT GREATEST CHALLENGE.
THINKING A LOT THESE DAYS, ABOUT THE IDENTITY OF MUSKOKA, AND HOMETOWN SENTIMENTS, NO MATTER WHAT MUSKOKA COMMUNITY YOU HAVE A CONNECTION, I KNOW THAT, FOR ME, JOHN RUTHERFORD INTRODUCED ME TO SOMETHING GREAT, THAT HAS BEEN WITH ME EVER SINCE. HE GAVE ME REASON TO LOOK MORE COMPASSIONATELY, ON THE TOWN THAT, IN TRUTHFULNESS, HAD HELPED TO RAISE ME; BECAUSE THAT'S HOW TOUGH A JOB IT WAS TO REEL-ME-IN AS A WILD YOUTH. I LEARNED TO RESPECT MY REGION, OUR PROVINCE AND OUR COUNTRY, BECAUSE OF HIS OWN FEELINGS, OF WHAT WOULD MAKE US MORE DETERMINED BAND-MATES. THERE WAS NO COMPETITION. NO TROPHY TO PLAY FOR. NO BLUE RIBBON TO WIN, AND PIN ON OUR JACKETS. IT WAS ONLY THAT SUSTAINED APPLAUSE, AND STANDING OVATION AT THE END OF OUR CONCERTS, THAT MADE US SHIVER WITH RESPECT AND PRIDE, FOR THE MAN WHO GOT US FROM BRACEBRIDGE, TO THE MAIN STAGES OF OUR ENGLAND TOUR.
WHEN, ON OCCASION, I HEAR ONE OF THE PIECES WE PERFORMED, ON THAT TOUR, OR LISTEN TO A CHRISTMAS CAROL, HE ASKED US TO PLAY FOR THE DECEMBER CONCERT, I HAVE NO PROBLEM AT ALL, RECALLING HIM WITH BATON IN THE AIR, LOOKING AT ME, POSSIBLY OFFERING A LITTLE PRAYER TO GOD I WON'T SCREW UP, AND BRINGING US BACK INTO THAT BEAUTIFUL FOLD, OF MUSIC, AS HE WANTED IT TO SOUND. BUT I ALWAYS KNEW, AT THE SAME TIME, WHERE WE ALL CAME FROM; AND RURAL ONLY MEANT WE WORKED HARDER TO PROVE OUR WORTH. OF ALL THE ATTRIBUTES JOHN MAY HAVE WISHED WE WOULD REMEMBER OF HIM, I'M DOUBTFUL HE WOULD HAVE EVEN THOUGHT ABOUT HIS CONTRIBUTION TO OUR SENSE OF BELONGING, TO A TOWN AND A REGION. WITHIN A FEW SHORT YEARS, I HAD PUT THIS NEWLY ACQUIRED RESPECT TO WORK, AS A REGIONAL WRITER, HISTORIAN, AND IT IS TO HIS CREDIT, I HAD FOUND MY CALLING, AND MY HUMBLE PLACE IN THE UNIVERSE; TO BE ETERNALLY PROUD, AND GRATEFUL. I MAY BE THE FIRST PERSON, WHO KNEW AND FELT THE WRATH OF JOHN RUTHERFORD, WHO WOULD THEN CREDIT HIM, BEYOND THE USUAL, FOR INSTILLING PRIDE, FOR OUR HOME DISTRICT, EVEN ABOVE AN INTENSE, DEEPLY IMBEDDED MUSIC APPRECIATION. HE DID THAT TOO. I WAS THE BENEFICIARY THEN, AND NOW IN MEMORY.
LOOKING BACK ENHANCES THE WAY TO LOOK FORWARD - I HAPPENED TO HAVE KNOWN SOME UNIQUE MENTORS IN MY TIME
I am not able to state, with total confidence, that it was John Rutherford, who gifted-me, with the ability to hear music where there is none audible. My grandfather, Stanley Jackson, was a concert violinist, and my mother was a fiend for the classics, so I did grow up with the influence of music in daily life. It was John Rutherford, however, who taught me how to imagine music based on what scene and situation I was immersed-in, at the moment. I suppose then, that I was inspired about how to feel the music. It may sound a little far-fetched. When I was just out in the car, for a trip to the grocery store, I went through an amazing, short-lived snow squall, and looking down the tree-lined street I was driving, it looked so incredibly beautiful, and poetic, that without thinking about it, I imagined the music that would companion the snowscape. Not as a music video. Rather, because it was the violin solo that fit the frame, I was witnessing from the window of the van. It was music that wasn't sad, but a tad melancholy, as I feel very strongly about the change of seasons, here in South Muskoka. While we are all a little nervous about snow, since the behemoth winter of last year, it still brings an enchantment to the streetscape here, that seems so storied and historic, but always in the contemporary domain. Writing about my music past, under the watchful eye of John Rutherford, made me think about all the days since, that his mentoring has impacted me, as a traveller, voyeur wandering the woodlands, and writer looking far and wide for elusive inspiration. He used music as a bridge to just about everything in life, and I appreciated what the music meant, beyond the notes I was charged with getting correct. The music always possessed a deeper story, that I wanted to know more about. He once told me, to look inside the music, while following the notes written on the music sheets. As a high school kid, who really didn't grasp the technical side of music, or what was included in the course of study, as "music theory," being told to look within, to find the story, of why the notes had been written a particular way, was complete nonsense to me; and being already confused, it nearly caused me to quit the program. As a matter of irony, it is the very exercise and discovery, that gave me my present appreciation for music, as never before. I began understanding the deeper significance of the music I enjoy. I couldn't play it, as well as I can interpret it, but John would at least be contented, his instruction wasn't wasted on me. When I wander through the woodlands, here, just above The Bog, in Gravenhurst, I hear music, and it is composed of all the natural sounds emminating from the tree tops, and outstretched boughs, the shadowed pockets of grasses, and lengths of fallen old birches that cascade the water over top, and beneath, in a tantalizing collection of sounds; like the tinkling of crystal glasses, in a festive toast, to all that is good in the world.
It is snowing heavily again, late this afternoon, such that from my vantage point, I can only see, and not clearly, a little more than a full block in either direction of Muskoka Road. There is a lot of traffic, and pedestrian travel, despite what most argue is the teeth of inclement weather; pretty to look at, but too much too soon. There's a muffling effect, during snow events like this, and it is kind of pleasant, beyond the symphony playing in my mind, to just enjoy the soft blanketing of snow as clear evidence, we have progressed to the cusp of winter regardless of the calandar. It is bright and cheerful, but I don't think that will be any consolation, to the many motorists who have been engaged in accidents on this icy day; or for those who have fallen, at home, or navigating the snow-covered streets, with trace ice below. I have been wandering outdoors many times today and although I feel slightly reluctant to admit it was enjoyable, well sir, it was, and I've more outdoor work to look forward to this evening.
It is in normal in the range of inclement weather, to receive snow early, and have it melt away, quite late. This, I suppose, guarantees we will have a traditional winter once again. This may, of course, to some, be all the reason in the world, to dislike all that is thusly characterized as being "traditional."
Thank you so much for visiting with me today, on this second part of Christmas in Muskoka.
Christmas From the Archives
CHRISTMAS DINNER ON A CHROME TABLE THAT PINCHED MY FINGERS
FUNNY WHAT YOU REMEMBER ABOUT "THE HOLIDAYS"
WHEN WE LIVED UP AT 129 ALICE STREET, WHICH WAS BETTER KNOWN AS "THE WEBER APARTMENTS," BACK IN THE HALCYON DAYS OF MY CHILDHOOD, CIRCA 1960'S TO MID 1970'S, WE LIVED LIKE THE OTHER RESIDENTS OF THOSE AFFORDABLE UNITS. WE CALLED IT "TRYING TO SURVIVE." MY MOTHER WAS ALWAYS A MINIMALIST, SO IT FIT RIGHT IN WITH US BEING OF MODEST INCOME. FOR CHRISTMAS, WE RELIED ON A BOX OF OLD ORNAMENTS AND TRIMMINGS MERLE HAD BROUGHT WITH US, WHEN WE MOVED FROM BURLINGTON TO BRACEBRIDGE. AS SHE DID ROUTINELY, THE CARDBOARD BOX WITH THE BEST ORNAMENTS WERE TOSSED OUT WHEN WE MOVED. IT BECAME A TRADITION WITH MERLE. IT HAPPENED EVERY TIME THEY MOVED THERE-AFTER. ORNAMENTS THAT WEREN'T BUSTED WHEN THE TREE WOULD TOPPLE OVER BY HAPPENSTANCE, WERE THEN TOSSED OUT THE NEXT TIME WE CHANGED RESIDENCES. WE ACTUALLY BEGAN ACCUMULATING ORNAMENTS AT THE WEBER APARTMENTS, BECAUSE IT WAS ABOUT NINE YEARS BETWEEN MOVES.
MOST OF OUR ORNAMENTS WERE OF THE TACKY VARIETY, BUT MERLE DIDN'T CARE. WE HAD LITTLE WHITE STUCCO HOUSES WITH RED PLASTIC WINDOWS THAT WERE SUPPOSED TO BE ILLUMINATED BUT NEVER WERE. SHE HAD A TYPICAL DISPLAY OF PLASTIC POINSETTAS, WITH SOME SPARKLING STALKS OF SOMETHING ELSE, FOR THE OLD FLOWER VASE SHE USED ON OUR ROUND COFFEE TABLE IN THE LIVINGROOM. SHE WOULD PUT OUT A SPECIAL CHRISTMAS CLOTH FOR THE VASE TO STAND UPON. MERLE WOULD BUY CHRISTMAS CANDLES BUT NEVER USE THEM YEAR AFTER YEAR. IN FACT, WHEN SHE DIED A FEW YEARS BACK, I FOUND SOME OF THOSE SAME CANDLES I REMEMBERED FROM ALICE STREET. I DON'T KNOW WHY, BUT SHE NEVER BURNED ANY OF THEM. SHE HAD A COMMERCIAL EXAMPLE OF A YULE LOG, MADE OF BIRCH THAT HAD TWO HOLES FOR CANDLES, AND PLASTIC FLOWERS GLUED ONTO THE OUTSIDE. I THINK MERLE PICKED THIS UP, WITH THE NATIVITY SCENE, AT THE BURLINGTON WOOLWORTH STORE ON BRANT STREET IN BURLINGTON. IT WOULD BE PLACED ON THE KITCHEN TABLE WHEN IT WAS EXPANDED FOR THE EXTRA FOOD OF THE CHRISTMAS DINNER.
I LOVED CHRISTMAS DAY, BECAUSE WE GOT TO EXTEND THE CHROME TABLE TO PUT IN THE LEAF MY FATHER KEPT BACK IN THE CLOSET. THE PROBLEM WITH THE TABLE WAS THAT IT REFUSED TO OPEN WIDE ENOUGH TO ACCOMMODATE THE INSERT. SO ED AND I HAD TO TUG ON IT FOR ABOUT A HALF HOUR, AND EVEN THEN, BY THE HALFWAY POINT OF THE MISSION, BOTH OF US HAD CUTS ON OUR HANDS AND PINCH BRUISING. THEN WE'D GET IT TOO WIDE, AND WHEN IT WAS NECESSARY TO PUSH THE TWO ENDS TOGETHER, TO SQUEEZE THE INSERT INTO PLACE, IT WOULD TAKE ALL OUR EFFORT TO GET IT TO MOVE AN INCH, AND THEN, ALL OF A SUDDEN, IT WOULD LET GO WITH GREAT EASE, AND GOD FORBID ONE OF US WOULD HAVE A FINGER IN THE CREVICE. MERLE HAD A SPECIAL CHRISTMAS CLOTH, AND DESPITE THE FACT IT WAS A PLAIN TABLE, WITH VINYL COVERED CHAIRS, THE ADORNMENTS ON THE TABLE MADE IT LOOK LIKE A GREAT KING'S GROANING BOARD. THERE WERE ALWAYS CANDLES ON THE TABLE BUT THE ONES THAT WE LIT, WERE THE PLAIN ONES MERLE HAD GOT ON SALE AT THE FIVE AND DIME STORE. SHE'D ACTUALLY MOVE THE CHRISTMAS ONES OFF THE TABLE WHEN WE WERE JUST ABOUT TO EAT.
THERE WAS ALWAYS A GREAT GOLDEN BIRD EMERGE FROM THAT TINY APARTMENT OVEN, AND THE TABLE WOULD BE FULL OF THOSE COLORFUL PYREX BOWLS..., RED, GREEN, YELLOW AND BLUE, ALL OF DIFFERENT SIZES. ED WAS VERY ACTIVE IN SPECIAL MEAL PREPARATION, AS HE OFFICIATED FOR MOST OF HIS FINAL YEARS WHEN MERLE WAS LIVING AT HOME. SHE WAS PLACED IN A NURSING HOME FOR THE LAST TWO YEARS. ED WASN'T AS KEEN TO MAKE BIG MEALS, ALTHOUGH WE USED TO HAVE CHRISTMAS AT HIS HOUSE NONE THE LESS. HE HAD LOST A LOT OF HIS ENTHUSIASM FOR THE SEASON, AND WE HAD TO COERCE HIM TO PUT UP THE OLD TREE MERLE LOVED. SON ANDREW WAS ALWAYS ABLE TO CONVINCE HIM TO KEEP UP THE CELEBRATIONS BECAUSE IT WAS HEALTHY AND IMPORTANT TO HIM (ANDREW). ED WOULD DO ANYTHING POSSIBLE TO MAKE HIS GRANDSONS' HAPPY. AND THEY ADORED HELPING HIM WITH ANY PROJECT, INCLUDING THE ANNUAL APARTMENT DECORATING, IN MERLE'S STYLE OF COURSE.
WE ATE WELL. IN FACT, BACK IN THOSE YEARS, SUNDAY DINNERS AS WELL, PROVIDED DINNERS FOR THE NEXT THREE TO FOUR NIGHTS. SO AT CHRISTMAS, THEY ALWAYS FOUND THE BIGGEST BIRD FOR THE CHEAPEST MONEY, WITH THE IDEA OF HAVING FOUR DINNERS AFTER THE FIRST NIGHT. AND BY GOLLY, THAT'S JUST THE WAY IT WORKED OUT. THE FIRST LEFT-OVER MEAL WAS IDENTICAL TO THE CHRISTMAS DINNER, ONLY ONE DAY OLDER. THE SECOND NIGHT OF LEFT-OVERS MEANT A HOT TURKEY SANDWICH WITH GRAVY; THE THIRD WAS TURKEY SANDWICHES AND TURKEY SOUP, AND THE FOURTH WOULD HAVE BEEN A SORT OF TURKEY-IN-PASTRY TYPE AFFAIR. THE STUFFING WAS THE FIRST TO RUN-OUT AND THEN THE CRANBERRY JELLY, THE KIND YOU SLIDE FROM A CAN. BY THE FINAL NIGHT, THERE WAS JUST THE FLAVOR OF TURKEY WITH A LOT OF FILLER AND OTHER LEFT-OVERS PILED IN.....LIKE BEANS AND TURNIP WHICH I DESPISED AT THAT TIME IN MY LIFE.
FOR THAT CHRISTMAS MEAL, WE ALWAYS HAD FESTIVE CRACKERS THAT HAD A LITTLE GUNPOWDER IN THEM, FOR A SHARP REPORT WHEN THEY WERE PULLED FROM EITHER END; AND WE HAD TO WEAR THE BIG PAPER HATS INSIDE, AND PUT THE LITTLE TOY FROM INSIDE THE CRACKER, BESIDE OUR PLATE. THEN THERE WAS THE FAMILY PHOTOGRAPH. MOSTLY ME TAKING PICTURES OF MOM AND POP WITH OUR OLD BROWNIE CAMERA....WITH THE HATS HALF FALLEN OVER THEIR EYES, ED WITH A GLASS OF WINE LIFTED FOR THE CAMERA-MAN. THESE WERE TYPICAL PERIOD IMAGES RIGHT DOWN TO THE BOWLS ON THE TABLE.....AND THE TABLE CLOTH WITH THAT UNMISTAKABLE 1960'S FLOURISH OF VIVID COLORS AND LARGE FLOWERS. IT WAS ABOUT AS FAR FROM ELEGANT BUT I WAS IN LOVE WITH THE SHEER NOSTALGIA OF THE HOLIDAY....INCLUDING THE CHRISTMAS RECORDS WE HAD, AND THE SHOWS WE WATCHED ON TELEVISION. LET'S JUST SAY BING CROSBY FACTORED INTO THREE OF THEM; "GOING MY WAY," "THE BELLS OF ST. MARY'S," AND "WHITE CHRISTMAS."
THE CHRISTMAS TREE WAS ARTIFICIAL BECAUSE MY MOTHER HAD BURNED OUT TWO VACUUMS BY SUCKING UP PINE NEEDLES, THAT CLOGGED THE INTAKE. THE TREE LOOKED GREAT WITH ITS MULTI-COLORED LIGHTS, AND TINSIL, BUT COMPARED TO THE MARTHA STEWART INSPIRED TREES OF TODAY, (EVEN OURS), MERLE AND ED HAD A MINIMALIST TREE IN ALL ITS DIMENSIONS. THERE WOULD HAVE BEEN ABOUT FORTY OR SO DECORATIONS, AND FOUR STRANDS OF LIGHTS, WHICH ONLY TWO WORKED. THE PRE-CHRISTMAS PERIOD WAS SPENT TRYING TO FIND OUT WHICH BULB WAS FAULTY, AND THAT NEARLY DROVE MY DAD NUTS. SO EVENTUALLY WE'D JUST GIVE UP AND ENJOY THE LIGHTS THAT DID WORK. CHRISTMAS DAY WAS OF MODEST PROPORTION AND I SPENT MOST OF THE DAY BREAKING MY TOYS, AND PLAYING ROAD HOCKEY, OFTEN WITH MYSELF; BECAUSE I NEVER REMEMEBER A TIME WHEN I DIDN'T FIND A H0CKEY STICK OR PUCKS BELOW THE TREE. I GOT A COUPLE OF HOCKEY NETS UNDER THERE AS WELL, ON A COUPLE OF CHRISTMAS MORNINGS, BUT THEY WERE ALWAYS POORLY MADE, AND I'D BLOW OUT THE MESH BY THE END OF THE DAY. EVEN A FROZEN TENNIS BALL WOULD BREAK THROUGH THE MESH. IT WAS THE THOUGHT THAT COUNTED. YOU KNOW, I LOVED THOSE CHRISTMASES BECAUSE OF THE SIMPLICITY OF IT ALL. WE ARE FAR MORE ELABORATE AS A FAMILY NOW, THAN I REMEMBER FOR CHILDHOOD. BUT I KNEW WE DIDN'T HAVE MUCH MONEY, SO I DIDN'T ASK FOR EXPENSIVE THINGS FROM SANTA. I ALWAYS MANAGED TO GET A K-TELL RECORD FOR CHRISTMAS, BUT MERLE WAS RELUCTANT TO LET ME USE HER STERO, OUT OF FEAR I WOULD BREAK IT. I'D ASK HER WHY SHE'D BUY ME A RECORD, IF I COULDN'T PLAY IT ON HER STEREO. SHE HAD A REASON, AND IT WAS ALWAYS THE CASE, THAT I WAS TOO HARD ON THINGS. I'D JUST WAIT TILL SHE WENT OUT TO WORK, OR SHOPPING, AND I'D DO MY BEST TO BREAK THE PHONOGRAPH. EVEN THOUGH I DIDN'T, SHE BLAMED ME ANY WAY. AH, IT WAS JUST THE WAY SHE WAS, AND THE WAY I BECAME, OUT OF THAT TRADITION. THEY WERE SIMPLE CHRISTMASES BECAUSE IT'S WHAT WORKED FOR MY PARENTS, AND I DIDN'T HAVE ANY PROBLEM WITH THEIR MODESTY. I KNEW OTHER FAMILIES WERE HAVING LARGER CELEBRATIONS, WITH MORE OF EVERYTHING, IN BIGGER HOMES, BUT THERE WAS SOMETHING WONDERFUL IN THE HONESTY OF A SMALL, HUMBLE, INEXPENSIVE CHRISTMAS, AND I SURVIVED WITH A GOOD ATTITUDE. FOR MERLE AND ED, THE CHRISTMASES WE CELEBRATED, WERE PERFECTLY SUITED TO A FAMILY OF THREE, AND WE MADE THE MOST OF WHAT WE HAD.....AND IF I FELT DISADVANTAGED, IT WAS ONLY BECAUSE I KNEW WHAT THEY REALLY NEEDED, BUT COULDN'T AFFORD....AND THAT WAS A CAR THAT WOULD GO MORE THAN FIVE MILES WITHOUT BREAKING DOWN. IT DID WORK OUT BETTER FOR THEM AS YEARS WENT BY, AND AT THE END, THEY'D DONE MUCH BETTER FOR THEMSELVES FINANCIALLY, AND COULD BUY EXACTLY WHAT THEY NEEDED FOR HOME COMFORTS AND TRANSPORTATION. BUT THEY NEVER ONCE HAD A CHRISTMAS CELEBRATION BIGGER THAN WHAT WAS ABSOLUTELY NEEDED, FOR OUR ENTERTAINMENT AND DINING PLEASURE. THEY STILL TREATED THE TURKEY AS A WEEK-LONG DINING PLEASURE; ITS DOMINANCE, FROM SANDWICHES TO SOUP, AND THERE WAS ALWAYS ENOUGH TO SHARE.
I DO MISS MERLE AND ED'S CHRISTMAS DINNERS, AND THE WAY THEY COULD BUILD A FESTIVAL OUT OF SO LITTLE.
I HOPE YOU HAVE HAD A WONDERFUL CHRISTMAS SEASON SO FAR.
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