Muskoka and Its Nature; And That's What It Comes Down To, In Terms Of Stewardship

AUTUMN SEASON IN MUSKOKA IS SPECTACULAR - THE ENCHANTED SOLITUDE THAT BRINGS US BACK TO MOTHER EARTH

THE STRANGE, WONDERFUL SPIRITS THAT DWELL WITHIN NATURE

BUT THEN, THERE IS THIS CRISIS OVERSEAS, AND HOW TO PREPARE FOR ITS ESCALATION

     WILL THE UKRAINE FALL? WILL NATO COME TO ITS ASSISTANCE WITH MILITARY INTERVENTION? OR WILL THE THREAT OF A WORLD WAR CAUSE NATO TO BACK AWAY FROM CONFLICT?

     CRISIS. THERE'S NEVER BEEN A TIME IN THE HISTORY OF THE SO CALLED CIVILIZED WORLD, THAT CRISIS WASN'T EITHER HAPPENING OR ABOUT TO HAPPEN. IN THE SPRING, I WROTE QUITE A FEW EDITORIAL PIECES, ADMITTEDLY OUT OF DURESS, ABOUT THE CRISIS BETWEEN THE UKRAINE AND RUSSIA, TRYING SOMEWHAT, TO EXPLAIN FROM RECOLLECTION, WHAT A SMALL CHILD OF THE EARLY 1960'S, KNEW ABOUT THE "COLD WAR". THE TERM MY PARENTS USED TO DESCRIBE WHAT WAS HAPPENING BETWEEN THE UNITED STATES, RUSSIA AND CUBA. WHAT MY PARENTS, AND NEWSCASTERS OF THE TIME, REFERRED TO, AS BEING "ONE OF THE MOST DANGEROUS TIMES SINCE THE SECOND WORLD WAR!" I JUST CAME TO THINK OF ALL WARS AS HAVING BEEN "COLD," AS I HAD NO REAL CONCEPT OF WHAT IT MEANT IN THE POLITICAL SENSE, OF MILITARY "STAND-OFF" AND "IMMINENT DANGER".
    BACK IN THE LATE SPRING, OF THIS YEAR, I PREDICTED THEN, THAT THE RUSSIANS WOULD EVENTUALLY INVADE THE UKRAINE, AND MOST EXPERTS NOW AGREE, THIS HAS HAPPENED, DESPITE WHAT THE RUSSIAN PRESIDENT SAYS TO THE CONTRARY. I DON'T FEEL GOOD ABOUT BEING RIGHT, IN THIS CASE, BECAUSE IT'S A FRIGHTENING REALITY; WHICH IN ITS FULL BURDEN OF HORROR, IS CURRENTLY BEING EXPERIENCED DAILY, BY THE CITIZENS OF EASTERN UKRAINE; SOME UNFORTUNATES, WHO HAVE BEEN EITHER KILLED, WOUNDED, OR DISPLACED FROM THEIR HOMES, AND NORMAL, PEACEFUL LIVES. THEY HAVE A MUCH CLOSER VANTAGE POINT, TO ASCERTAIN JUST HOW BAD IT'S GOING TO GET, FOR THEM, UNLESS A NEGOTIATED PEACE ARRIVES SOON. I HAVEN'T MUCH FAITH IN THE RUSSIAN INTEREST TO RETREAT, SO PEACE IS UNLIKELY. IT'S ALL A TERRIBLE STRESS ON WORLD PEACE. BUT WHEN YOU SPEND AS MUCH OF YOUR LIFE, IMBEDDED IN HISTORICAL RESEARCH, AS I DO, YOU BECOME A LITTLE CLOSER TO PRECEDENTS, AS THEY HAVE OCCURRED IN THE PAST; SO IT DIDN'T TAKE ANY STROKE OF GENIUS, TO PREDICT RUSSIA WAS GOING TO INSTIGATE A WAR, IN ORDER TO GET BACK WHAT THEY BELIEVE IS THEIR RIGHTFUL TERRITORY. I REALIZED, EARLY ON, THAT THIS CRISIS WAS GOING TO, NOT ONLY BRING BACK THE POLITICAL CHILL OF THE 1960'S AND 70'S, BUT CREATE A RISK-FACTOR, THAT WOULD PUT US ON THE BRINK OF ANOTHER WORLD WAR. TODAY, ONE SERIOUS OVER-STEP, BY THE RUSSIANS, OR BY NATO FORCES, AND THE NEW NORMAL WILL INVOLVE WAR PREPARATIONS AROUND THE GLOBE. IT HAS TO BE WHAT RUSSIA WANTS, BECAUSE IT'S OBVIOUS, THEY ARE WILLING TO TAKE WHATEVER RISK IS NECESSARY, TO ACHIEVE THEIR ANNEXATION OBJECTIVES. SANCTIONS MAY BE WORKING BUT NOT IN THE WAY WE WOULD ALL LIKE. THEY CAN CALL IT WHATEVER THEY WANT, LIKE A WELCOMING COMMUNITY PICNIC BETWEEN THE TWO COUNTRIES, BUT THOSE WHO HAVE SEEN THIS AGGRESSION BEFORE ON THE PART OF RUSSIA, KNOW THE WORSE IS YET TO COME. NO MATTER HOW THE ARTIST PAINTS THIS PREAMBLE SCENE, IN EASTERN UKRAINE, WE HAVE A WORLD WAR CLOSER THAN WE HAVE HAD, SINCE THE CUBAN MISSILE CRISIS. I THINK WE WOULD ALL BE SHOCKED, TO KNOW JUST HOW LITTLE PROVOCATION IT WOULD TAKE, TO START A WAR IN EUROPE. NO AMOUNT OF MINIMIZING IT, OR WISHFUL THINKING, IS GOING TO CHANGE RUSSIA'S STRATEGY, AS RELATES TO WHAT THEY WANT RETURNED, AS THEIR RIGHTFUL TERRITORY. THEY CAN'T ACHIEVE THEIR OBJECTIVES WITHOUT LOSS OF LIFE. THE QUESTION IS, HOW MUCH ARE THEY WILLING TO SACRIFICE, BECAUSE I'M PRETTY SURE, IT WILL BE IN THE MULTI-MILLIONS, IF WE ENTER THAT HORRIBLE PERIOD OF ALL-OUT WAR.
     I WORRY MOST THESE DAYS, ABOUT HOW WE, ON THE HOME-FRONT, WILL DEAL WITH THIS CRISIS, IF IT REACHES THE LEVEL OF WORLD WAR. I KNOW WHAT COMMUNITIES DID TO ASSIST THE ALLIES, AND CANADIAN SOLDIERS, BUT WHAT CAN WE EXPECT TODAY. I DON'T BELIEVE MANY CITIZENS IN OUR COMMUNITY TODAY, HAVE MUCH INTEREST IN SUCH SPECULATION, BELIEVING, THAT ALL OF A SUDDEN, PEACE AS WE KNOW IT, WILL DISINTIGRATE IN THIS FASHION. IT IS ALARMING TO RECOGNIZE, THAT WE ARE SO FAR REMOVED FROM THE ACTUALITY OF WHAT'S GOING ON IN OUR WORLD, THAT WE FEEL NOTHING CAN HURT US, IF CONFLICT ESCALATES IN THE UKRAINE. IF YOU HAVE BEEN LISTENING TO THE DAILY NEWS, YOU WOULD REALIZE THAT CANADA HAS BEEN PARTICULARLY VOCAL AGAINST THE RUSSIAN AGGRESSION, TO THE POINT OF DELIVERING MILITARY SUPPLIES, AIRCRAFT, AND PERSONNEL, TO THE REGION, AND STEPPING UP WITH NATO, TO BOLSTER MILITARY PRESENCE IN NEIGHBOR NATO COUNTRIES. THIS IS SERIOUS. IT MEANS THAT WE ARE NOW INTIMATE TO WHAT MAY, OR MAY NOT HAPPEN IN THE UKRAINE, AND REGION, MAKING US FAR CLOSER TO UNPLEASANT REALITIES, IF THERE WAS A SUDDEN SHIFT TOWARD A LARGER MILITARY ENGAGEMENT. IN AN INSTANT, OUR REALITIES, AND ACTUALITY, COULD CHANGE IN A MOST TRAGIC WAY. OUR SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF MILITARY AGE, WILL BECOME OF INTEREST TO A GOVERNMENT, THAT AT PRESENT, HAS A LIMITED, PEACE-TIME COMMITMENT OF PERSONNEL; MEANING, THAT A LARGER ENGAGEMENT, WILL EVENTUALLY DEMAND MORE ENLISTMENT TO BOLSTER THE RANKS IN ALL AREAS. IT MAY BE THE BUDDING WAR SOMEWHERE ELSE, BUT IT IS A LOT CLOSER, IN THIS REGARD, THAN WE MAY REALIZE. THE IMPACT IS GLOBAL. IT'S NOT JUST TWO COUNTRIES EXCHANGING FIRE, WITHOUT THE IMPLICATION OF DRAWING OTHER COUNTRIES INTO THE MIX. THIS COULD SOON BE A CONFLICT BETWEEN MANY COUNTRIES, AND IT COULD SO EASILY JETTISON INTO A WORLD CONFLICT, WITH JUST ONE SHOT FIRED BETWEEN NATO AND THE PRO-RUSSIAN AGGRESSORS. KEEP IN MIND, A PASSENGER JET WAS DOWNED BY PRO-RUSSIAN MILITANTS. MANY SAW THIS AS AN ACT OF WAR. I CONCUR.
     I DREAD THE DAILY NEWS THESE DAYS. I VERY MUCH FEAR, WE SHALL BE TERRIBLY ILL PREPARED, AS A COUNTRY, COMMUNITY, AND NEIGHBORHOOD, TO HANDLE THE SUDDEN IMMERSION INTO WAR-PREPARATION. WHAT WILL OUR COMMUNITIES DO TO ASSIST THE WAR EFFORT? SIX MONTHS AGO, THIS SAME OVERVIEW, SEEMED TO SOME OF MY DAILY READERS, AS AM OUTRAGEOUSLY WILD OVER-STEP, OF WHAT WAS ACTUALLY HAPPENING IN THE UKRAINE. TODAY, IT'S NOT BEYOND THE REALM OF POSSIBILITY, THAT WE WILL FIND OUT WHAT A MODERN AGE WAR LOOKS LIKE, UP CLOSE, AND HOW FAR IT CAN STRETCH BEYOND AFFECTED BORDERS, WITH THE ADVANCES IN TECHNOLOGY, LONG RANGE MISSILES, AND THE RECKONING OF MISSILE DEFENCE SHIELDS. IN SOME WAYS, AN OLD HISTORIAN LIKE ME, HAS SURRENDERED HOPE, THERE IS GOING TO BE A PEACEFUL RESOLVE TO THIS PRESENT CRISIS. IT MANY WAYS, RUSSIA HAS BEEN WORKING TOWARD THIS RETURN TO OLD POLITICS, FOR MOST OF SEVERAL DECADES. I CAN'T SEE THEM CHANGING THEIR RESOLVE AT THIS STAGE OF AGGRESSION, WHICH MANY BELIEVE HAS ALREADY BEEN THE "CROSSED" POINT OF NO RETURN. THE IMPLICATIONS WILL BE HUGE, FOR EVERY CITIZEN, WHO WILL FEEL LESS SAFE FOR A PERIOD OF YEARS; AND BE COMPROMISED IN SOME FASHION, AS A DIRECT RESULT. FOR ONE THING, THE WEIGHT OF A STRESSED ECONOMY. IMAGINE ONCE AGAIN, LIVING WITH WAR-TIME RESTRICTIONS, AND HAVING TO USE RATION CARDS, TOKENS, AND VOUCHERS, FOR FUEL AND FOOD PROVISIONS. ARE WE READY FOR THIS KIND OF CHANGE? HOW FAST CAN WE ADAPT TO A NEW NORMAL, MUCH LARGER AND MORE DEVASTATING, THAN ANYTHING WE'VE SEEN BEFORE? THIS ISN'T A HOLLYWOOD MOVIE SCRIPT. IF RUSSIA DOESN'T BACK AWAY, AND RETREAT FROM THEIR PRESENT SUPPORT, OF THE AGGRESSORS IN EASTERN UKRAINE, THERE WILL BE A WAR. IF NATO COMES TO DEFEND THE UKRAINE, WITH MILITARY ASSETS, AGAINST FURTHER INVASION, IT WILL QUICKLY BECOME A SPIRAL OF WORLD WAR. I NOW DESPISE THE NEWS REPORTS, BUT NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO AVOID THE TRUTH. WHILE MOST OF US WILL ADMIT, TO LIVING FOR THE MOMENT, AND NOT HAVING MUCH INTEREST IN THESE SPECULATIONS ABOUT WAR, AND ITS FALL-OUT, IT REALLY IS ENCUMBANT UPON INDIVIDUALS, REGARDLESS OF THEIR OPINIONS, TO KNOW HOW TO ADJUST TO THIS POTENTIAL "NEW NORMAL," WHICH BY THE WAY, DOESN'T REQUIRE OUR PERMISSION, TO IMPOSE ON OUR LIVES AND VALUES. HOW MUCH WILL WE PAY FOR THE FREEDOM WE ENJOY TODAY? WILL WE FIGHT FOR ITS PRESERVATION, JUST AS CANADIANS HAVE IN PAST CONFLICTS? IN EASTERN UKRAINE TODAY, AT THIS VERY MOMENT, CITIZENS ARE FIGHTING FOR THEIR FREEDOM, AND LOSING IT! MILE BY MILE OF THEIR HOMELAND. OF COURSE WE SHOULD BE AWARE OF WHAT IS HAPPENING? LIKE IT OR NOT, WE ARE GOING TO BE IMPACTED BY EITHER ANOTHER PROLONGED PERIOD OF COLD WAR, OR A MUCH MORE AGGRESSIVE ACTUALITY, HOUR TO HOUR, OF MILITARY CONFLICT.
     WE NEED TO PREPARE OUR SONS AND DAUGHTERS FOR THE TERRIBLE TRUTHS ABOUT WAR, THAT THEY HAVE BEEN SO COMFORTABLY INSULATED, SUCH THAT IT IS ONLY A MENTION IN HISTORY CLASS. THERE IS NO ESCAPING THE NEED TO EDUCATE OUR YOUNGER GENERATION, TO WHAT POTENTIALS EXIST OUT THERE, THAT CAN CHANGE THEIR LIVES IN LESS TIME THAN A FULL HEART-BEAT. THERE ARE PEOPLE OUT THERE, WHO WANT TO START A WAR. ONE OF THESE TIMES, THEY'RE GOING TO SUCCEED. AND THEN, WE WILL ALL BE PART OF THE WAR EFFORT, TO BRING ABOUT PEACE ONCE MORE.

MY OWN GREAT ESCAPES FOR TEMPORARY PEACE OF MIND

     NOTE: I WROTE THIS (PIECE BELOW) BEFORE I COMPOSED THE TOP PORTION OF TODAY'S BLOG. I DON'T WANT READERS TO THINK, THAT MY IDEA TO ESCAPE WAR REALITIES, IS TO QUICKLY JOG INTO THE BUSH, AND HIDE THERE FOR THE DURATION OF WHATEVER CONFLICT, IS BREWING AT THE TIME. IF THAT WAS THE CASE, I'D BE IN THE BUSH TWICE AS FREQUENTLY, AND FOR LONGER PERIODS. THERE'S A LOT TO WORRY ABOUT, IN THIS WAY, AND THE BUSH JUST HAPPENS TO BE MY CHOICE OF PACIFIER. YOU SEE, I JUST HAPPENED TO HEAR THE NEWS ON THE CAR RADIO, IN TRANSIT, BETWEEN HOME AND SHOP, AFTER I'D WRITTEN WHAT IS PUBLISHED BELOW; AND I FELT IT INCUMBENT, TO AT LEAST RE-VISIT WHAT I'D BEEN WARNING ABOUT, OVER SEVERAL MONTHS THIS PAST SPRING. IT'S LIKE HAVING A BALLOON TACKED ONTO YOUR BACK, JUST OUT OF REACH. YOU CAN TRY TO ESCAPE IT, BUT NOTHING EXCEPT THE BALLOON POPPING, WILL END THE UNWELCOME COMPANIONSHIP. I WILL CONFESS, THAT I DO GAIN SOME MEASURE OF ADDED PEACE, ON THESE NATURE RETREATS, REGARDLESS OF THE BURDENS CARRIED; AND ONLY MINUTES SPENT, IMMERSED IN THE COVER OF THE WOODLAND ABOVE THE BOG, HERE IN GRAVENHURST, WILL HAVE THE MOST AMAZING, RESTORATIVE INFLUENCES, THAT I FIND, HONESTLY, I JUST CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT. ONE THING IS FOR SURE. I WOULD BIND-UP AS A WRITER. NATURE IS MY MUSE. AS FOR THE STRESSES OF THE DAY, MY VERY GREAT JOY, IS TO BE SO CLOSE TO THE WILD, OPEN SPACES, OF THE GREEN-BELT OF THE BOG. I THINK OF THE FOLKS OF THE UKRAINE, AT THIS MOMENT, WHO HAVE LOST THEIR FAMILY HOMES AND NATURAL SANCTUARIES, THE PEACEFUL COUNTRYSIDE, AND GOOD NEIGHBOR COMMUNITIES, AND HAVE BEEN FORCED TO FLEE FOR THEIR LIVES. I DON'T TAKE THIS PRESENT PEACE GRANTED. THIS IS FOR CERTAIN. I TUMBLE EFFORTLESSLY BACK INTO MY YOUTH, WHEN IT SAVED ME FROM A DULLED IMAGINATION, AND STUNTED SENSES. I FOUND THE GOOD GRACES OF SOLITUDE, AND I RETURN TIME AND AGAIN, LIKE AUTHOR DAVID GRAYSON, IN HIS BOOK, "ADVENTURES IN CONTENTMENT," WHO FINALLY, ONE DAY, LOOKED UP FROM THE WORK OF SCULPTING STRAIGHT FURROWS, WHICH HE HAD BEEN PLOWING SO PERFECTLY, ON HIS PASTURE, TO THEN SEE A MAGNIFICENT, SPRAWLING HORIZON, AS IF IT WAS THE FIRST TIME HE HAD NOTICED THE BEAUTIFUL WORLD AROUND HIM. WE ALL NEED, FROM TIME TO TIME, TO TRUST OUR URGES; THE NEED TO DISCOVER THE TRUE WEALTH, AND HORIZON OF LIFE, BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE. BEFORE WE CAN NO LONGER ENJOY THE FREEDOM OF DISCOVERY.
     EVEN FROM THOSE CHILDHOOD ADVENTURES, HIKING ALONG THE BANKS OF BURLINGTON'S RAMBLE CREEK, CLIMBING THE SMALL TREES, AND BUILDING RAFTS TO SAIL TO THE SEA, I HAD DAILY NEED TO CONNECT WITH NATURE. THOSE FIRST YEARS, GROWING UP IN SOUTHERN ONTARIO, I WOULD RETREAT TO ANY PLACE WITH A FEW TREES, AND THE SOUND OF TRICKLING WATER. MY PARENTS SEEMED TO KNOW THEIR CHILD WAS EXTRAORDINARY IN THIS SENSE, AND WOULD TAKE ME ON WEEKENDS, TO ALL THE REGIONAL PARKS, WHERE I'D SPEND HOURS AT THE LAKESHORE OR POND-SIDE, LOOKING FOR TADPOLES AND FROGS. MY MOTHER COULDN'T ENDURE ME IN THE APARTMENT FOR VERY LONG, SO WITH AMPLE WARNINGS ABOUT STAYING AWAY FROM DEEP WATER, AND HIGH TREES, SHE'D USHER ME OUT THE DOOR. "HAVE A NICE MORNING," SHE'D SAY, AS I TRUNDLED OUT INTO THE HALL OF THE NAGY APARTMENTS, UP ON HARRIS CRESCENT, WITH BOOTS ON MY FEET, AND A HAT OF SOME KIND. MY MOTHER WORRIED CONSTANTLY, THAT I WAS GOING TO CATCH MY DEATH OF COLD, IF I WENT OUT WITHOUT WARM HEAD-WEAR. POINT IS, BOTH MY PARENTS SEEMED TO KNOW, THAT LIKE A CREATURE OF THE WILDS, I NEEDED MY DAILY OUTDOOR TIME, AND SOMETIMES, THREE TIMES AS MUCH AS ANY OF MY SCHOOL AND NEIGHBORHOOD MATES. AND I WAS OKAY WITH BEING ON MY OWN, ALWAYS FEELING THAT NATURE WAS MY CHUM, IN ALL ITS CURIOUS REALITIES. THERE IS NO QUESTION, I WAS HAPPIEST WHEN I WAS PLAYING IN THE RAVINE, OF RAMBLE CREEK, AS IT TRICKLED THIS TIME OF YEAR, OUT INTO LAKE ONTARIO. I WAS NOT ALLOWED TO GO PAST THE LAKESHORE ROAD BRIDGE, OVER RAMBLE CREEK, BUT I DID, ON OCCASION, BREAK THIS RULE. THE CLOSER I GOT TO LAKE ONTARIO, THE MORE I WOULD SMELL LIKE DEAD FISH. WHEN I CAME BACK HOME FOR LUNCH OR DINNER, MERLE COULD TELL EXACTLY HOW CLOSE I HAD COME TO THE BRIDGE, AND IF I HAD PASSED IT, HEADING TO THE OPEN LAKE. MY CHILDHOOD CHUM, RAY GREEN, AND I, AND SOMETIMES HIS SISTER HOLLY, WOULD OFTEN DARE OURSELVES TO PASS BENEATH, AND SAMPLE THE FARE OF LIBERATION, ON THE LAKE SIDE.
     MERLE, YOU SEE, HAD TWO DISTINCT WORRIES ABOUT MY CROSSING THIS THRESHOLD, ON RAMBLE CREEK. FIRST OF ALL, THE WATER ON THE GENERALLY SHALLOW CREEK, WAS DEEPER BENEATH THE ROADWAY CROSSING, AND COULD DROWN A CHILD QUITE EASILY. COMPARED TO THE REST OF THE TRICKLING WATER COURSE, DRAINING AROUND FLAT SLABS OF ROCK, WE USED AS BRIDGES, THE MOST THAT COULD HAPPEN IN THE AUTUMN SEASON, WAS TO GET A SOAKER. I GOT A SOAKER-A-DAY FOR MY ENTIRE CHILDHOOD, SPENT UP ON HARRIS CRESCENT. NOW THIS WOULD CHANGE, IF THERE HAD BEEN A STORM. OR DURING SPRING MELT. THERE WERE ABOUT TEN DAYS EACH YEAR, NEIGHBORHOOD KIDS WERE NOT ALLOWED NEAR THE RAVINE, BECAUSE THE CREEK WAS SWOLLEN WITH RUN-OFF, FROM A LARGE PART OF THE COMMUNITY, DRAINING TOWARD THE LAKE. I CAN'T SAY FOR SURE, IF MY MOTHER FELT THAT LAKE ONTARIO WAS AS BIG A THREAT, AS MUCH AS THE PRECARIOUS LEDGE-WALK, IN THE CONCRETE CONDUIT UNDER THE ROAD. I KNOW RAY AND I USED TO BUILD RAFTS TO SAIL ON LAKE ONTARIO, BUT THERE WAS NO WAY OF EVER NAVIGATING WHAT WE BUILT, DOWN THE LENGTH OF RIVER TO THE LAKESHORE ANYWAY. I THINK MERLE JUST FIGURED, WE'D PROBABLY STEAL OUR WAY TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ROADWAY, THROUGH THE TUNNEL, BUT HAVE LITTLE INTEREST IN THE ACTUAL LAKE, WHICH I THINK WAS ABOUT A FOOTBALL FIELD LENGTH, AWAY FROM LAKESHORE ROAD.
     EVEN TODAY, I WILL STAND ALONE DOWN IN THE BOG, ACROSS FROM BIRCH HOLLOW, HERE IN GRAVENHURST, GETTING A SOAKER, AND MUDDY SOCKS, AND CHEERFULLY IMAGINE MYSELF BACK IN CHILDHOOD; WATCHING THE MINNOWS IN THE STILL POOLS OF RAMBLE CREEK; AND SOMETIMES IT'S TRUE, THAT I CAN HEAR RAY GREEN RUMMAGING THROUGH THE BRUSH, LOOKING FOR ANOTHER SMALL LOG, OF FALLEN FOREST, TO STRAP TO OUR RAFT, THAT BY THE WAY, WOULD FALL APART THE MOMENT WE TRIED TO SLIDE IT INTO THE WATER. THE WATERCOURSE ISN'T THE SAME AS RAMBLE CREEK, BUT IT'S THE SOUND OF THE TRICKLING WATER, THAT STIRS MY IMAGINATION. I NEED THIS WETLAND, JUST LIKE I NEEDED THE RAVINE OF RAMBLE CREEK, BACK THEN, AND BAMFORD'S WOODS, AFTER WE MOVED TO MUSKOKA IN THE MID 1960'S. I CAN'T IMAGINE WHAT IT WOULD BE LIKE, TO LOSE THIS INTIMATE CONTACT WITH NATURE, THAT HAS BEEN SO MUCH A PART OF MY VERY EXISTENCE, FOR LONG AND LONG. I COULDN'T IMAGINE WORKING AS A WRITER, WITHOUT THIS FREQUENT IMMERSION, IN A VARIETY OF WILD PLACES, AND NATURAL CIRCUMSTANCES. I CAN'T CONTEMPLATE THE DIFFERENCES IN MY ATTITUDE, OF NOT HEARING THE BIRD-CALLS, THE CHATTER OF RESIDENT SQUIRRELS, THE CAWING OF VENERABLE OLD CROWS, HIGH IN THE TALL PINES, AND THE WHISPER OF WINDBLOWN FIELD GRASSES, WEAVING TOGETHER IN SONG, LIKE THE GENTLE, DELIGHTFUL STRUM OF A HARP. I WOULD FEEL DEPRIVED, IF I NO LONGER COULD HEAR THE WIND IN THE PINES, OR THE SOUND OF TINY, INVISIBLE CATARACTS, TUMBLING ALONG THROUGH THE SMALL DARK HOLLOWS OF MATTED GRASSES, AND FALLEN, DECAYING BIRCHES; IN AND AROUND THOSE CENTURY PINES, THAT CAME CRASHING TO THE GROUND DURING A SUMMER STORM. WHAT A GREAT LOSS NOT TO HEAR THE INHABITANT CRICKETS, OR SEE THE BUTTERFLIES BOBBING OVER THE LOWLAND; THE BEES BUZZING AROUND THE WILDFLOWERS, WITH A HUMMINGBIRD IN WAITING. THERE IS A HEART BEAT, AND SOUL, TO THESE WILD PLACES, THAT WE FAIL TO ACKNOWLEDGE, LET ALONE BENEFIT FROM, IN OUR HARRIED, STRESSFUL LIVES. IT IS THE VERY REASON THESE PLACES ARE CONSIDERED EXPENDABLE BY THESE SAME PEOPLE, WHO HAVE NEVER TAKEN THE TIME, TO ALLOW ITS MAGIC INTO THEIR LIVES.
     I CAN REMEMBER ONE SUMMER DAY, QUITE A FEW YEARS BACK, ARRIVING EXHAUSTED AND HOT, AFTER A LONG DRIVE, UP TO THE TEA LAKE DAM, IN ALGONQUIN PARK, AND REFUSING SUZANNE'S INITIAL OFFER TO SET-OUT LUNCH; SO THAT FOR A FEW MOMENTS, I COULD SIT DOWN ON A ROCK, BY THE SOOTHING WATER FLOW OF TEA CREEK, OVER THE SMOOTH ROCKS, WHERE CANADIAN LANDSCAPE ARTIST, TOM THOMSON, ONCE USED TO STAND, TO FLY FISH BELOW THE DAM. FOR ABOUT A HALF HOUR, I SAT THERE, WHILE THE BOYS, ANDREW AND ROBERT, LOOKED FOR MINNOWS IN THE SHALLOW POOLS TRAPPED IN THE ROCKS; AND SUZANNE RESIDED AT A PICNIC BENCH, OVERLOOKING THE WATERFALL, KNITTING OUR WINTER SOCKS. I BECOME ENTRANCED, AND I BENEFIT FROM EVERY MOMENT IN THIS SELF IMPOSED EXILE, TO INSPIRING PLACES LIKE THIS. THE SOUND OF A TRICKLING CREEK, IS ALL I NEED, TO REMOVE MYSELF FROM THE STRESSES OF MODERN LIVING. THE INTRUSIVE REALITIES OF THE PEOPLES OF THE WORLD, NOT GETTING ALONG, AND PERPETRATING TERRIBLE ACTS OF VIOLENCE, ON THEIR OWN NEIGHBORS.
     I HAVE LONG POSSESSED A VERY DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVE ABOUT NATURE, THAN EVEN MY OWN FAMILY; WHO DO OCCASIONALLY QUESTION MY INSATIABLE APPETITE FOR THESE HINTERLAND ESCAPES. I FIND IT ALL SO SPIRITED AND FULL OF MEANING, BEYOND WHAT MOST WOULD SEE AS TREES, ROCK, WATER, AND CREATURE INHABITANTS OF WILD PLACES. I READ IT, AS ONE WOULD SIT DOWN WITH A GOOD BOOK. I FIND MANY HIDDEN MESSAGES, AND SOURCES OF CREATIVE ENTERPRISE. I RETURN FROM THESE VISITS, FEELING AS IF I COULD WRITE A BOOK, ABOUT WHAT I'VE WITNESSED. THIS IS A GOOD THING. AT A TIME LIKE THIS, IT IS A PRECIOUS RESOURCE.
     SINCE THE MID 1970'S, I HAVE USED THESE NATURE ESCAPES, AND WHAT I HAVE GARNERED FROM THEM, TO CULTIVATE THOUSANDS OF STORIES AND COLUMNS FOR THE LOCAL, AND REGIONAL MEDIA. THEY ARE NOT AS PROFOUND AS WHAT DAVID GRAYSON HAS LEFT US WITH, IN HIS "ADVENTURES IN CONTENTMENT," OR WHAT DAVID THOREAU WROTE, FROM HIS INSPIRATIONS, LIVING IN HIS TINY CABIN, SITUATED ON THE SHORE OF HISTORIC WALDEN POND. BUT UPON REFLECTION OF A LIFETIME'S WORK, I REALIZE NOW, THAT MY ABILITY TO WRITE ANYTHING OF MERIT, HAS HAD EVERYTHING TO DO, WITH MY OWN INTIMATE RELATIONSHIP WITH NATURE. I REMEMBER ONE PERIOD IN PARTICULAR, ABOUT A DOZEN YEARS AGO NOW, WHEN I WOULD WRITE FROM MY DESK ON THE VERANDAH, AND ACTUALLY FALL ASLEEP IN MY CHAIR; BECOMING A TRADITION, OF ACTUALLY CURLING UP ON AN OLD SOFA, AND SPENDING THE NIGHT. I MADE IT ONE YEAR RIGHT TO DECEMBER, BEING WRAPPED IN TWO SLEEPING BAGS AND A WOOL BLANKET. NOT BECAUSE MY WIFE KICKED ME OUT OF THE HOUSE, BUT THAT I NEEDED TO BE OUT THERE, TO EXPERIENCE MUSKOKA THROUGHOUT THE HOUS OF THE DAY. IT WAS ONE OF THE MOST PROLIFIC PERIODS OF MY LIFE, AND IT WAS DIRECTLY PROPORTIONAL, TO MY IMMERSION IN SOMETHING THAT GOT MY CREATIVE JUICES FLOWING. I NOW CAN LOOK BACK ON THIS CREATIVE PERIOD, AND RECOGNIZE THAT IT WAS BASED ON A LUSTFUL APPETITE, FOR MORE INSPIRATION, AND THE FACT, I HAD FINALLY SURRENDERED MY QUEST FOR THE HOLY GRAIL; BECAUSE I HAD FOUND IT, AS I HAD WHEN I WAS A CHILD, IN THE BOSOM OF NATURE ITSELF. I CAN ONLY TRULY FEEL AT PEACE, WHEN I AM CLOSE TO WILD PLACES LIKE THE BOG; AND PICTURESQUE LANDSCAPES, LIKE THE LOCATION OF THE TEA LAKE DAM, IN ALGONQUIN PARK.
     IT IS WHY I PURSUE THIS SEEMINGLY TIRESOME, WORN-OUT, FRAYED-AROUND-THE-EDGES, STORY-LINE, THAT PURPOSELY PARALLELS WASHINGTON IRVING'S TALES, OF THE HAUNTED HUDSON RIVER VALLEY. TO ME, MUSKOKA IS WITHOUT DOUBT, A HAUNTED, MYSTICAL LAKELAND, BUT IT DOESN'T HAVE A THING TO DO WITH GHOST SHIPS, PHANTOM SAILORS, APPARITIONS, OR MANIFESTATIONS OF THE PARANORMAL. IT IS WHAT I HAVE FELT FROM THE BEGINNING OF OUR RELATIONSHIP. I HAVE NEVER BEEN LEFT UNFULFILLED IN ITS COMPANY.
     WHEN I WRITE ABOUT THE SIMILARITIES OF THE MUSKOKA LAKELAND, TO WHAT WASHINGTON IRVING LOOKED OUT ON, IN HIS DAY, OF THE HISTORIC HUDSON RIVER VALLEY, IT IS A SINCERE OVERVIEW, BASED ON COMPARISONS OF TRADITIONS, LEGENDS, AND NATURAL ACTUALITIES. I HAVE COME TO LOOK UPON MUSKOKA IN THE SAME MANNER; AND I FIND IT VERY FULL OF DELIGHTFUL HAUNTINGS, MORE PRECIOUS THAN ANYTHING ELSE I HAVE BEEN EXPOSED AS A WRITER. IN SOME MINOR WAY, I FEEL THAT I HAVE ARRIVED AT A PLACE AND TIME, THAT I CAN MORE THOROUGHLY ENJOY ALL THAT THIS GENEROUS HINTERLAND HAS TO OFFER.
     FOR THE PAST HOUR, I HAVE AGAIN POSITIONED MYSELF ON OUR VERANDAH, OVERLOOKING THE WILDFLOWERS OF THE BOG, AND FEELING VERY COMFORTABLE, LISTING TO THE AFTERNOON BREEZE RUSTLING THEM ALONG THE RIDGE ABOVE THE BASIN. I REMEMBER THE SAME CALMING SOUND, ON MY APPROACHES TO THE RAMBLE CREEK RAVINE HALF A CENTURY AGO.
     THANK YOU FOR VISITING TODAY. I NEVER TAKE YOUR SUPPORT FOR GRANTED. PLEASE ACCEPT MY HUMBLE THANKS FOR YOUR DAILY VISITS.

FROM THE ARCHIVES

WHAT OF THE UNKOWN, FASCINATES YOU? OR IS EVERYTHING KNOWN AND UNDERSTOOD. CAN SCIENCE EXPLAIN EVERYTHING?

     "IF GOWAN GILLMOR KNEW ALL THE CONSTELLATIONS, HE ALSO KNEW ALL THE PLANTS AND FLOWERS OF THE NORTH COUNTRY. HIS EYE FOR BEAUTY WAS VERY KEEN, AND HE COULD CLEVERLY ADAPT THESE THINGS IN ALL THEIR RANGE TO HIS SERMONS IN THE MOST VIVID TERMS. SURVIVORS OF THE CHILDREN OF THOSE DAYS, CAN WELL REMEMBER THE WAY IN WHICH NATURAL PHENOMENA, AND WILDLIFE WOULD CREEP INTO HIS DISCOURSES. AN ALBERTA LADY, ONCE OF GRAVENHURST, HAS TREASURED MEMORIES OF HIM IN HER CHILDHOOD. ESPECIALLY SHE RECALLS A SUNDAY SCHOOL CHRISTMAS CONCERT WHICH HE OPENED WITH A MOST FASCINATING ACCOUNT OF HIS APPROACH TO TOWN, AT DUSK (AFTER MANY MILES TRAVELLING ON FOOT), THAT EVENING, AND SEEING THE 'EVENING STAR,' RISE OVER GULL LAKE, 'WITH FAIRIES ACCOMPANYING IT.' 'HE HELD US SPELLBOUND'."

     THESE OBSERVATIONS ARE CONTAINED IN THE BOOK "GILLMOR OF ALGOMA - ARCHDEACON TRAMP," BY E. NEWTON WHITE. THESE OBSERVATION AS NOTED BY A FORMER STUDENT, WERE MADE EARLY IN THE 1900'S. WHAT'S INTERESTING, IS THAT THE ARCHDEACON REFERENCED "FAIRIES," TO CHARACTERIZE THE SPARKLING ENCHANTMENT THE EVENING STAR CAST DOWN TO EARTH. A BRILLIANT AND DEDICATED MAN, WHO HIKED ALL OVER THE DISTRICTS OF ALGOMA AND MUSKOKA, HE WASN'T ADVERSE TO REFERENCING THE SUPERNATURAL……AS WITH THE FAIRY-KIND. HERE WAS AN ANGLICAN MISSIONARY, GIVING CREDIT TO FAIRIES, WHERE GOD MOST DEFINITELY PLAYED A PART.

     IF EVER ANYONE COULD ATTEST TO THE ENCHANTMENTS OF OUR REGION, IT WAS GOWAN GILLMOR. "MANY OF GOWAN'S TALES COULD ONLY BE DESCRIBED AS 'TALL.' HE JUSTIFIED HIS WAY OF DEALING WITH FACTS AT SUCH TIMES, BY SAYING THAT IF NOVELISTS AND POETS WERE RIGHT TO USE FICTION TO ENTERTAIN, OR INFORM, SO ALSO WAS HE. AND WE MIGHT ADD THAT LISTENERS, CHILDREN OR GROWN-UPS, WHO COULD NOT TELL HIS TRUTH FROM HIS FICTION, WERE TO SAY THE LEAST, ON THE GULLIBLE SIDE. HE NEVER MEANT TO DECEIVE ANYONE, BUT HE WAS KNOWN TO SAY THAT SOMETIMES HIS STORY-TELLING WAS SPOILT BY SOME PEOPLE'S EAGERNESS TO BELIEVE THE IMPOSSIBLE," WRITES NEWTON-WHITE.

     "SOME OF GOWAN'S BEST KNOWN STORIES ARE DIFFICULT TO RECOUNT AT SECOND HAND. THEY WERE TOLD ON SO MANY OCCASIONS TO MANY VARIETIES OF HEARERS - YOUNG, OLD, CRITICAL OR OTHERWISE; WITH THE NEED TO APPEAL TO AS MANY INDIVIDUALS AS POSSIBLE, AND THE POLITICAL NECESSITY OF NOT BEING TOO SPECIFIC AS TO LOCALITY. AS WITH ALL HIS TALES THEY DEPENDED GREATLY ON THE MATCHLESS GIFT OF A TRUE IRISH STORY TELLER. TAKE THE WOLF-STORY; AND WE MUST ADMIT AT ONCE THAT CANADIAN WOLF HISTORY AFFORDS BUT THE REMOTEST PRECEDENTS, EVEN IN ALL ITS VARIATIONS," NOTES THE BIOGRAPHER. "IN THE NORTHERN BUSH ON A COLD WINTER'S NIGHT, GOWAN WAS TRAVELLING ON SNOWSHOES AND FOUND THAT HE COULD NOT REACH HIS DESTINATION BEFORE VERY LATE. HE DECIDED TO LIGHT A FIRE AND SLEEP IN THE SNOW. BEFORE HIS FIRE WAS GOING HE HEARD THE DISTANT HOWL OF A WOLF, THEN ANOTHER AND ANOTHER. BEFORE LONG THE CRIES WERE COMING FROM ALL DIRECTIONS - AND CLOSING IN! SOON THEY WERE FORMING A FAIRLY CLOSE CIRCLE AROUND HIM. THEIR EYES AND FANGS AND SINISTER MOVEMENTS IN THE DARKNESS WOULD BE DESCRIBED WITH TELLING EFFECT. THEN A LARGE WOLF, EVIDENTLY THE LEADER (AND IRISH IT WOULD APPEAR), SLIPPED TO THE FRONT, EYED GOWAN VERY CLOSELY, SNIFFED, THEN WHEELED SUDDENLY TO THE OTHERS: 'OCH! THAT'S ONLY OLD GILLMOR! LET'S GO, B'YS,' AND THEY VANISHED. ONCE, IN A CHILD AUDIENCE, THE SUSPENSE OVER, A BRIGHT ONE ASKED, COULD HE NOT HAVE CLIMBED A TREE? BUT THAT WOULD NOT HAVE HELPED; THE WOLF-PACK KEPT A TRAINED BEAVER FOR JUST SUCH EMERGENCIES."

     "ANOTHER STORY EXAMPLE CONCERNED A CORPSE; AND WAS NOT QUITE AS MACABRE AS IT SOUNDS. GOWAN WAS VISITING A LONELY SETTLEMENT IN THE BUSH; A PLACE UNKOWN TO HIM. HE HAD BEEN WALKING ALL DAY, AND WAS TIRED. AT DUSK HE CAME TO A DARK AND GLOOMY LOOKING HOUSE WHERE HE ASKED FOR SHELTER FOR THE NIGHT. THE MAN WHO CAME TO THE DOOR LOOKED WORRIED AT HIS REQUEST; AND CALLED TO HIS WIFE. THE TWO HAD A WHISPERED DISCUSSION, AND THEN THE MAN SAID GLUMLY, 'ALL RIGHT, YOU CAN STAY. BUT YOU WON'T LIKE YOUR ROOM.!' WHEN GOWAN WENT TO HIS ROOM LATER, HE FOUND IT BITTERLY COLD. LOWERING HIS VOICE HE WOULD SAY SOLEMNLY, 'AN' WHAT D'Y THINK WAS IN THAT ROOM? A DEAD BODY!' AT THIS HE WOULD PAUSE WHILE HIS LISTENERS WOULD GASP AND ASK HIM WHATEVER DID HE DO? 'WHY, I BLEW OUT MY LIGHT AND WENT TO SLEEP OF COURSE.' THEN, WITH ANOTHER PAUSE, TO LET IT ALL SINK IN, HE WOULD ADD IN A RELIEVED VOICE, 'IT WAS JUST A DEAD MOUSE Y'KNOW!' YEARS AFTER TELLING THIS YARN TO A SOMEWHAT IMPRESSIONABLE PERSON, SHE REMINDED HIM OF IT. BUT THE ARCHDEACON LOOKED GENUINELY HORRIFIED. 'OH,' SAID HE. 'I OUGHT NOT TO HAVE TOLD YOU THAT ONE."

     NEWTON-WHITE ALSO NOTED, OF THE ARCHDEACON, ON ONE OF HIS MAJOR WALKING MISSIONS, HE WITNESSED "THAT INFREQUENT APPEARANCE TO EARTH OF HALLEY'S COMET, WHICH WAS THEN 'A BEAUTIFUL SIGHT." "THE REFERENCE TO THE COMET CAME AT THE TIME WHEN IN THE DIARY (HE KEPT) THERE BEGAN TO APPEAR SUNDRY NAMES AND NOTES OF THE STARS; SOME EVIDENTLY FOR SERMON USE. THE STARS HE SPOKE OF AS HIS FRIENDS, AND HIS PARTICULAR ONE WAS 'ARCTURIS.' IN WHIMSICAL IRISH, HE WOULD ASSERT THAT WHEN HE DIED ONE OF THEM WOULD BE HIS -AND WOULD ACTUALLY POINT OUT WHICH ONE."

     IN THE EARLY SETTLEMENT YEARS, AND THE ONGOING DECADES THAT SAW HEAVY IMMIGRATION FROM OVERSEAS, THE DISTRICT OF MUSKOKA INHERITED A LOT OF "OLD COUNTRY" LORE, MORE THAN JUST REFERENCED BY THE BORROWED NAMES OF VILLAGES IN ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND, FOR LOCATIONS IN THE HOMESTEAD GRANT LANDS OF ONTARIO. AS WILL ARCHDEACON GOWAN GILLMOR, MUCH OR HIS IRISH BACKGROUND, OF LEGEND, LORE AND TRADITION, MADE ITS WAY TO OUR REGION…..AND AS YOU HAVE JUST READ, THESE STORIES WERE TOLD AND RE-TOLD IN HIS SERMONS, AND CONVERSATIONS FOR MANY DECADES. THE DIFFERENCE WAS THAT HIS IRISH BACKGROUND AND THE WORK HE WAS DOING IN MUSKOKA AND ALGOMA, MEANT THAT MANY OF THESE FOLK STORIES HAD OLD COUNTRY PATINA, IN A PIONEERING REGION OF A NEW LAND. THIS WAS JUST ONE MAN, SPEAKING TO HUNDREDS IN THE DISTRICT OF MUSKOKA. THERE WERE MANY OTHERS, WHO SIMILARLY SPREAD VERSIONS OF OLD LEGENDS AND SUPERSTITIONS, AMONGST THE NEIGHBOR SETTLERS……WHO COULD WELL HAVE BEEN OF DIFFERENT CULTURAL BACKGROUNDS……ICELANDERS NEIGHBORS TO DANES, NORWEGIANS, SWEDES, IRISH, SCOTTISH, ENGLISH, DUTCH AND GERMAN. AND WHEN MARRIAGES OCCURRED BETWEEN THESE ETHNIC GROUPS, THE FOLK TALES AND SUPERSTITIOUS BELIEFS CHANGED AS WELL. OF COURSE, THIS WAS LIKE ANY PIONEER REGION IN THE COUNTRY, BUT IT BECAME CHARACTERISTIC OF LIFE IN OUR REGION IN THOSE FIRST FIFTY YEARS OF DEVELOPMENT. IF YOU WERE TO ADD THIS TO THE AMPLIFYING EDITORIAL PROMOTIONS, OF THE MUSKOKA DISTRICT, BEING PUBLISHED IN AMERICAN ADVENTURE BOOKS, LIKE "THE SPORTSMAN'S PARADISE," AMONGST MANY OTHERS, MUSKOKA WAS DEEMED AN ENCHANTED PLACE, LONG BEFORE GOWAN GILLMORE BEGAN WALKING THE TRAILS FROM OUR DISTRICT TO ALGOMA AND BACK…..AND SPINNING THOSE FASCINATING TALES OF LIFE IN THE WILDS.

     "POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS ARE FAST FADING AWAY," WROTE WASHINGTON IRVING, IN HIS BOOK, "BRACEBRIDGE HALL," CIRCA 1822, IN A STORY TOLD BY THE FICTIONAL CHARACTER, GEOFFERY CRAYON, VISITING WITH SQUIRE BRACERBIDGE AND FAMILY, ON HIS ENGLISH COUNTRYSIDE ESTATE. HE CLAIMED THIS WAS THE CASE, "OWING TO THE GENERAL DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE, AND THE BUILDING INTERCOURSE KEPT UP THROUGH THE COUNTRY; STILL THEY HAVE THEIR STRONG HOLDS AND LINGERING PLACES, AND A RETIRED NEIGHBORHOOD LIKE THIS IS APT TO BE ONE OF THEM. " IRVING HIMSELF, OF COURSE, WAS A DEFENDER OF THESE SUPERSTITIONS, AND OLD FOLK TALES, TRADITIONS AND LEGEND; IN ENGLAND AND AT HOME IN AMERICA, WHERE HE WORRIED THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE FROM BRITAIN, HAD ADVERSELY INFLUENCED MANY FROM THAT RICH CULTURAL ANCESTRY, TO ABANDON THESE PRECIOUS, TIME-HONORED FORMER BELIEFS, THAT HAD ROOTS MANY GENERATIONS DEEP. WHAT IRVING DID, SOMEWHAT LIKE THE LATER ARCHDEACON GOWAN GILLMOR, WAS TO EXPOSE THESE TIRED OLD TALES TO NEW PUBLIC SCRUTINY, TO SEE HOW A MODERN AUDIENCE WOULD REACT TO AN ANTIQUATED STORY. AS IRVING SOLD MANY BOOKS BECAUSE OF HIS PASSION TO PRESERVE FOLK HISTORY, THE ARCHDEACON EQUALLY HELD MANY LOCAL AUDIENCES SPELLBOUND, WITH STORIES ABOUT NATURAL ENCHANTMENTS HE HAD FOUND ON HIS TOWN TO VILLAGE HIKES….AND THE REMARKABLE STORIES HE HAD HEARD TRAVELLING HOUSE TO HOUSE, IN HIS FRIENDLY BID TO EXTEND PRAYER TO THOSE IN NEED.

     WORKING AT THE HERALD-GAZETTE OFFICE, ONE DAY, I LOOKED UP FROM MY TYPEWRITER, TO SEE CANADIAN WRITER, SYLVIA DUVERNET STANDING AT THE CORNER OF MY DESK, WITH A COPY OF HER WELL KNOWN BOOK, ON THE MUSKOKA ASSEMBLY; A WRITER'S SUMMER COLONY BACK IN THE 1920'S AND 30'S, ON LAKE ROSSEAU'S TOBIN'S ISLAND. THE ASSEMBLY BROUGHT IN MANY OF THIS COUNTRY'S BEST KNOWN WRITERS, INCLUDING POETS AND NOVELISTS, AND MANY PHILOSOPHERS, WITH A KEEN FOCUS ON MODERN RELIGION. SYLVIA, THE MOTHER OF MY COLLEAGUE AND WRITING PARTNER, TIM DUVERNET, A MUSKOKA SUN PHOTOGRAPHER AT THE TIME, WAS AN EXPERT ON THE MUSKOKA ASSEMBLY, AND I HAD BEEN WORKING ON A FEATURE STORY ABOUT THE WRITER'S RETREAT, FOR ONE OF OUR PUBLICATIONS. SHE BROUGHT ME A COPY OF HER BOOK, WHICH I STILL HAVE, AND PROVIDED SOME INSIGHTS ABOUT THE SIGNIFICANCE TO MUSKOKA, OF ALL THESE WRITER-KIND BEING INSPIRED BY OUR ENCHANTED LAKELAND. I ASKED HER WHY SHE FELT MUSKOKA WAS SO ATTRACTIVE TO WRITERS, ARTISTS AND MUSICIANS IN PARTICULAR. WITHOUT EVEN MOMENTARY PAUSE, TO CONTEMPLATE MY QUESTION, OR WHAT COULD BE CONSIDERED EVEN A SLIGHT DELAY, IN A BUSY NEWSROOM FULL OF STRANGE GOINGS-ON, AND AS IF SHE KNEW IT WAS GOING TO BE A QUESTION I WOULD ASK, SHE ANSWERED; "TED, AS YOU SHOULD KNOW, MUSKOKA IS A VERY SPIRITUAL PLACE ON EARTH." SHE ALSO EXPLAINED, THAT IT WAS MY MISSION TO FIND OUT WHY."YOU'RE A WRITER," SHE SAID. "YOU'LL FIND THIS OUT ON YOUR OWN QUEST; IT'S SOMETHING YOU HAVE TO DISCOVER YOURSELF, BY GETTING OUT THERE, AND BEING PART OF THE MUSKOKA EXPERIENCE." THAT WAS IN THE VERY EARLY 1980'S. I'VE FOLLOWED HER ADVICE EVER-SINCE, AND I DO BELIEVE HER ASSESSMENT WAS CORRECT. MUSKOKA IS A VERY SPIRITUAL PLACE IN ITS ALLURE…..AND I DO BELIEVE MANY HAVE FOUND THE SAME…..LIKE GOWAN GILLMOR, TRAVELLING THE MUSKOKA PATHWAYS FROM WELL BEFORE THE TURN OF THE 1900'S, OVER THE FOUR SEASONS…..FARMSTEAD TO SHANTY, LUMBER CAMP TO COMMUNITY HALL.

     TOMORROW, I WOULD LIKE TO INTRODUCE YOU TO WASHINGTON IRVING'S "STORM SHIP."

      OUR FAMILY FRIEND, SYLVIA DUVERNET, RECENTLY PASSED AWAY. SHE WAS PASSIONATE ABOUT HER TIME SPENT IN MUSKOKA, AND WAS A PROLIFIC PROMOTER OF THE ENCHANTMENTS OF THIS BEAUTIFUL REGION ON EARTH. I WILL NEVER FORGET THE ADVICE SHE GAVE ME. I HAVE BEEN ON THE ODYSSEY OF DISCOVERY, SINCE SHE POINTED THE WAY. OUR DEEPEST SYMPATHY TO THE DUVERNET FAMILY OF TORONTO AND PORT CARLING. SYLVIA WILL LONG BE REVERED AMONGST WRITERS IN MUSKOKA.

Would You Like To Become Our Town Councillor; Our Guardian Of Democracy? Then Step Up!

MUNICIPAL ELECTION IN GRAVENHURST - WHAT HAVE WE BECOME, AS A DEMOCRACY, WHEN ELECTIONS AREN'T IMPORTANT?

NOT EXACTLY THE "WEST WING" IN EXCITEMENT AND POLITICAL ANYTHING; THE COMPLETE OPPOSITE TO WHAT SHOULD BE HAPPENING

     I HAVE BEEN FORCED TO MOVE WRITING LOCATIONS, FIVE DIFFERENT TIMES TODAY, AND IT'S ONLY THREE O'CLOCK. WE HAVE HAD QUITE A PARADE OF MUSICIANS WORKING IN, AND AROUND THE STUDIO, AND THEY DON'T FIND ME SUITABLE COMPANY TO THEIR CREATIVE ENTERPRISE. I GET IT! I FINALLY JUST DECIDED TO COME BACK HOME, TO BIRCH HOLLOW, AND WORK HERE ON THE VERANDAH. IT WAS BEAUTIFUL FOR THE FIRST FIVE MINUTES. THEN, DOWN THE ROAD, CAME THIS HONKING BIG TRUCK WITH AN ELEPHANT'S HOSE HANGING OUT OF ITS ARSE, AND WITHIN SECONDS, THE SUCKING DEVICE WAS DEPLOYED, THE HOSE DEEP IN THE SUBTERANIAN WORLD, WITH A SLURPING, SUCKING NOISE, THAT, IF YOU WERE LOOKING FOR COMPARISONS, SOUNDED LIKE THAT OF A BADLY CONSTIPATED JET ENGINE. SEEING AS THERE IS NO OTHER PLACE TO RETREAT TO AT THIS MOMENT, I FIGURE THEY'LL SOON BE ABLE TO SUCK OUT ALL THE BAD STUFF; POSSIBLY, HOPEFULLY, WITHIN TWENTY MINUTES, WHEN I WILL ONCE AGAIN BE ABLE TO HEAR THE SOUNDS OF NATURE. BY THE LOOKS OF WHAT THEY'RE PULLING OFF THE TRUCK, HOSES AND STUFF, I'M EXPECTING IT WILL BE NECESSARY TO FIND SOMETHING POSITIVE, AMIDST THE DIN, TO CREATE SOMETHING READABLE FOR YOU FOLKS. AND DESPITE THE SUCKING AND SLURPING OF SAND AND GUNK, SOMETHING GOOD WILL COME OUT OF THIS, I'M SURE. WHAT THIS MOMENT, SOUNDS SO UNPLEASANT AGAINST THE BACKDROP OF THE BOG. I'M SURE IT IS A PREVENTATIVE MEASURE, TO KEEP THE RUN-OFF WATER FLOWING DOWN, AND ACROSS THE ROAD, INTO THE WETLAND; SO THUS, IT WILL UNDOUBTEDLY HANDLE HEAVY RAINFALL AND SPRING RUN-OFF, WITHOUT TEARING AWAY THE ROAD, OR THE FRONT OF OUR PROPERTY. THE CATS ARE HANGING OFF THE CEILING NOW, BUT THEY'LL BE FINE, ONCE THIS WILD-SOUNDING TRUCK MOVES OFF TO THE NEXT MANHOLE COVER DOWN THE ROAD.
     AS WE COME CLOSER TO THE CUT-OFF FOR CANDIDATES, WISHING TO ENTER THE UPCOMING MUNICIPAL ELECTION, HERE IN GRAVENHURST, THE ONLY WORD I CAN USE TO DESCRIBE THE EXCITEMENT BUILDING, IS, WELL, NON-EXISTENT. OR IS THAT TWO WORDS? IT'S PRETTY DISCOURAGING TO LOOK AT THE LOW TURN-OUT OF CANDIDATE HOPEFULS, AND I WON'T BEAT AROUND THE BUSH; I WAS KIND OF HOPING THERE WOULD BE MASSIVE RETIREMENT OF PRESENT COUNCILLORS. I CAN FIND LITTLE REASON, TO THROW ANY OF THEM MY SUPPORT AT THIS TIME. AS FOR SOME OF THE NEW CANDIDATES, THERE IS A LACK OF BIG NAMES THAT'S FOR SURE. BY BIG NAMES, I MEAN, THOSE HIGHER PROFILE FOLKS OF THIS TOWN, WHO COULD WHIP-UP A LITTLE EXCITEMENT BY BRINGING THEIR EXPERIENCE TO THE FOREFRONT, TO HELP LEAD OUR TOWN IN A NEW DIRECTION. I THINK "DIRECTION" IS THE OPERATIVE WORD HERE, BECAUSE FOR THE PAST FOUR YEARS, THE TOWN HAS BEEN CHASING ITS OWN TAIL, AND THE ONLY REAL EXCITEMENT THEY COULD HAVE COME UP WITH, IS IF THEY HAD ACTUALLY CAUGHT IT, AND THEN BITTEN IT OFF. THEY NEVER CAUGHT UP TO IT, BUT IT WAS FUN WATCHING THEM FAIL!
     I DON'T KNOW WHAT WILL HAPPEN BY THE CUT-OFF DATE, WHICH I BELIEVE IS THE 12TH OF SEPTEMBER. SO FAR, WE HAVE SEVERAL ACCLAMATIONS POSSIBLE, INCLUDING THE MAYOR'S OFFICE, AND THERE ARE TWO WAYS OF LOOKING AT IT. EVERYONE SUPPORTS THE MAYOR, OR NO ONE REALLY CARES ANYMORE WHO WEARS THE MAYOR'S CHAIN. THERE ARE A LOT OF POLITICAL CRITICS OUT THERE, AND THEY DON'T MIND SHARING THEIR DISLIKE FOR COUNCIL, IN COFFEE SHOPS ALL OVER TOWN, BUT MOST WHO I SPEAK WITH, ARE STIFLED TO SILENCE, WHEN I ASK THEM POINT-BLANK, WHETHER THEY MIGHT BE WILLING TO RUN FOR A COUNCIL POSITION; YOU KNOW, TO PUT THEIR MONEY WHERE THEIR MOUTH IS! THIS IS WHAT I CALL A "CONVERSATION ENDER!" I HAVE APPROACHED QUITE A FEW CITIZENS, I HAVE FELT WOULD MAKE GOOD CITIZEN REPRESENTATIVES. ALL BUT ONE GAVE ME A CLEAR "NO THANK YOU," STATEMENT, IN RESPONSE. THE OTHER ONE IS A FENCE-SITTER. DON'T BLAME HIM. THERE'S A LOT TO THINK ABOUT. THE REASON I DON'T PURSUE IT, AND PESTER THE MAN INTO SIGNING ON TO THE ELECTION, IS THAT MY LUCK ISN'T THAT GOOD. HE COULD TURN OUT TO BE A DUD, AND CAUSE MAJOR CHAGRIN AT TOWN HALL, AND THEN I'D FEEL HORRIBLE ABOUT BEING HIS ADVOCATE. IT'S GOT TO BE A HEART-FELT COMMITMENT, TO SERVE THE COMMUNITY, THROUGH HELL AND BACK, AND LET PRIDE COVER WHAT THE PAY DOESN'T. WITHOUT QUESTION, THE PAY DOESN'T COVER THE AGGRAVATION THAT A COUNCIL POSITION CAN INSPIRE.
     THERE ARE A LOT OF FOLKS IN THIS TOWN, AND I'M SURE THIS PREVAILS IN OTHER MUNICIPALITIES IN OUR DISTRICT, WHO WANT IMPROVEMENTS IN THEIR RESPECTIVE AREAS, BUT HAVE FULL TIME JOBS, AND POSSIBLY, A RETIREMENT TO ENJOY. A DEDICATION OF FOUR YEARS IS HUGE. THE PROVINCE, IN THEIR INFINITE WISDOM, THOUGHT FOUR YEARS WAS A WORKABLE TERM. YOU KNOW, TO GET PROJECTS DONE. I SEE THEIR POINT, I JUST DON'T LIKE IT, AND MANY EXPERIENCED INDIVIDUALS ARE SCARED OFF BY THE TIME COMMITMENT FOR SMALL WAGES. THERE ARE MANY OF US, WHO RECOGNIZE, THAT UNLESS YOU HAVE A FULL-SCALE CHANGE OF COUNCIL MEMBERS, YOUR IDEAS FOR CHANGE COULD HE REDUCED TO AUDIBLE HICCUPS, BECAUSE YOU'LL BE OUT-VOTED, AND OUT-MUSTERED, EVERY TIME YOU SPEAK YOUR MIND; OR WISH TO PUT FORWARD A PLAN OF ACTION. GOOD LUCK! UNLESS YOU BECOME A SUCK-UP, YOU WILL BE A LAME DUCK COUNCILLOR FOR THE ENTIRE TERM. A LIVE WIRE IS WHAT WE NEED, BUT IF THE STATUS QUO CONTINUES AT GRAVENHURST COUNCIL, HAVING A ROGUE COUNCILLOR, WHILE GREAT IN MY OPINION, WOULD BE SMOTHERED BY THE SAME-OLD, SAME OLD, AS WE HAVE SEEN OVER THE PAST FOUR YEARS. THERE HAS TO BE A MAJORITY CHANGE ON COUNCIL, AND ONE POTENTIAL CANDIDATE SUGGESTED, TO ME, THAT IT IS ALMOST NECESSARY, FOR A GROUP OF LIKE-MINDED CANDIDATES, TO POOL THEIR RESOURCES, AND RUN AS A MINI-BLOCK, OR ACTION PARTY, IN ORDER TO WIN A MAJORITY OF THE COUNCIL SEATS. I AGREED THEN, AND NOW, AND FRANKLY, IT'S THE ONE MAJOR REASON THAT I CAN'T SEE THE POINT OF RUNNING FOR OFFICE MYSELF. IF I WAS ELECTED, AND THE REST OF COUNCIL STAYED MUCH AS IT IS TODAY, IT WOULD BE A HOLY DISASTER FOR THE NEXT FOUR YEARS, BECAUSE I AM, BY NATURE, PROVOCATIVE, A LITTLE CONTROVERSIAL, AND I MAKE NO APOLOGY. I WOULD BE FIGHTING WITH THESE COUNCILLORS MORNING, NOON AND NIGHT, AND WITH ONE VOTE, THERE WOULD BE NO WAY I COULD DO ANYTHING MORE THAN EMBARRASS THEM, AND POSSIBLY MYSELF; AND I WOULD HAVE TO BE SATISFIED WITH PROVIDING SPEED-BUMPS BUT NOTHING TO CHANGE THE WAY THIS COUNCIL HAS BEEN OPERATING, (AS ALMOST A TRADITION OF STEADY-AS-SHE-GOES, WITHOUT GOING ANYWHERE IN PARTICULAR). THUS, I WOULD ONLY BE AFFECTIVE AS A CAMERA FRIENDLY COUNCILLOR, WHO WOULD GIVE PLENTY OF PHOTO-OPS TO LOCAL MEDIA, UNDOUBTEDLY, FINDING THAT IMAGES OF ME SLAMMING MY HEAD ONTO THE COUNCIL TABLE, WOULD MAKE NEAT FRONT PAGE INK; OR PULLING CLUMPS OF HAIR OUT, ARGUING POINTS OF VIEW, THAT I CAN TELL YOU, I WON'T SHARE WITH ANY ONE ON THE PRESENT COUNCIL. I COULD PROVIDE ANTICS AND AN UNSPECIFIED ABOUT OF HILARITY TO THE MEETINGS, AND POSSIBLY A DUST-UP WITH OTHER COUNCILLORS, (LIKE YOU SEE ON TELEVISION), TO GRAB A FEW HEADLINES; BUT AS FAR AS POLICY, AND WHAT I PERCEIVE AS BEING POSITIVE CHANGE, I WOULD BE OUT-VOTED INTO NOTHING MORE THAN A MEDIA STOOGE. THIS WILL BE THE CASE, UNLESS THERE IS A HUGE CHUNK OF THE PRESENT COUNCIL REPLACED, WHEN CITIZENS EXERCISE THEIR RIGHT TO FIX UP WHAT THEY BELIEVE IS BROKEN; TO ELECT CANDIDATES THEY FEEL BEST REPRESENT THEIR MUNICIPAL INTERESTS. IF STATUS QUO IS WHAT THEY WANT, WELL SIR, THEN THEY SHOULD FOLLOW THEIR CONSCIENCE. AT THIS POINT, I HAVE NO ONE TO VOTE FOR, PERIOD. AND THAT'S NOT BECAUSE THERE AREN'T CANDIDATES. WHAT WE DO HAVE, IS AN UNREMARKABLE ELECTION. THERE'S NOTHING TO GET EXCITED ABOUT, UNLESS, IN THE NEXT FEW DAYS, SOMEONE THROWS THEIR HAT IN FOR THE TWO POTENTIAL ACCLAMATIONS, AND MAKES THIS AN ELECTION NOT A CORONATION.

WHAT'S AHEAD THIS TERM OF OFFICE

     The fate of the Muskoka Centre property, is going to arrive on council's doorstep, sometime in the coming four years. This will test the competence of each councillor, let me tell you, because this is one of the most valuable pieces of development property on the Muskoka Lakes. The challenges of working out a compatIble future use, will be politics right out of the "West Wing," as far as sensitivities and vulnerabilities go; because big money will enter the picture. The balancing act, to keep all parties on side, including the cottager associations, and the permanent population, will demand exceptional negotiation skills, on the part of the town and town council, in order to avoid a fiasco, like happened with the former Roseneath property, in Milford Bay; a lingering spat that drove a huge wedge between seasonal and permanent residents. This is going to be an epic development proposal for Gravenhurst, and frankly, we need more experience on council than we have at present. I'm not the only one sounding this alarm, and it's possibly one of the reasons, some fence-sitters, who would make good councillors, are holding back a tad, sensing this could turn out to be a turning point in local history. It has that kind of weight attached, and only a fool would minimize it, as normal council business. Frankly I'm surprised the cottage associations haven't tried to field a candidate or two, because it's a guarantee that the other side of the debate, will actually have council votes. From my years of experience, it's exactly what I'd recommend. I've been trying to think what kind of development would make all the municipal groups, and citizenry happy; a decision that will have positive spin-off for everyone concerned. It doesn't exist. It is the proverbial two headed serpent; the doubled edged sword. Even if it was designated as public park land, from one end to the other, there will be objections from someone, or some group, whether it's regarding boat traffic, road congestion, or taxpayer expense. This is a big deal in this town, and it has major implications for town council. So if present councillors, who are willing to take-on another term, feel this will be routine business, I dare say, they will be filled with regret when the first sparks fly, soon after the province decides to list the site, to fundraise against their deficit. My hunch is, folks, the province knows what this unloading of lakefront, could cause, when buyers with development plans, begin stepping up. I sort of suspect there are parties interested now, but that's for the investigative reporters to handle.
     I have no reason to believe, social services, and citizen welfare issues, are going to decline, especially now that food prices are escalating, and gas and oil expenses, are beating the last few nickels out of our pockets. I have never been truly satisfied that town councillors, were as up to speed on these issues, as they should be, but in the next four years, they should expect to be confronted with some major issues this way; because the only way the numbers are going to change, is if the poorest amongst us, decided to uproot, and move to another community. I predict we're going to see the number of financially challenged people to increase, and that's a direct result of price escalations everywhere else. What prices are going down? Will this coming winter be less severe, and cost less for oil, natural gas, and electricity? Will the price of meat go down? Rentals apartments? Will they become more affordable? Gas for your car? Insurance costs? Taxes? If you happened to be financially challenged now, there's little chance of recovery, without a major infusion of opportunity. As a realist, I can't see that we have that flood of opportunity headed our way, or any major reduction of costs anywhere. Up, up and away. So councillors will have to deal with poverty, and its implications, and from what I understand, the initial conundrum, will be collecting back taxes; which by the way, is a pretty accurate way of determining just how well we're doing as a home town, on the economic front. It's not possible, for councillors to dodge these social / economic realities. We'd all like to see a light at the end of the tunnel, but seeing one now, would mean you were delusional; especially looking at the short term improvements that would make it more comfortable and affordable to live here.
     I also believe, there are far too many citizens in this town, who have given up on town hall entirely. They don't care about town council. They don't even know who their council representative is, and what they do for their pay cheque. They don't care about who's mayor, deputy mayor, or who's playing right field. They don't ask anything of council, because they expect to be ignored, or sluffed-off as unimportant. Can't say I blame them. Over time, like a wound that heals over with slivers still in the flesh, most of us have just buried our disdain, and come to worry less about officialdom, and prefer working around what local governance has to offer in support, or to the contrary. They have come to disrespect council, as their representative body. They work at free enterprise, wishing to have as little to do with town hall as possible. Councillors would disbelieve this to be the case, because as a group, they seem content to paint the room in which they dwell, making themselves happy in a colored bliss. In other words, local governance, as it exists to day, for most citizens of this town, is irrelevant. Except garbage pick-up, conditions of the roads, and taxes. As far as leadership, and heralding progress, give me a break. There is nothing for us average folk to get excited about, and the town's propaganda, the result of their deluded thinking, is just wasted money, and wasted staff time. We believe what we see, not what they tell us is in our best interest. I have never seen a town so in-love with the art of propaganda, without having a clue how to pull it off, such that it would be even slightly believable.
     Pretty soon, there will be a notice published in the local media, about an upcoming all-candidates meeting, likely at the Opera House. No word about a sponsoring agency, but I have my suspicions it will be the same as four years ago. If history repeats, the citizens of this community, will have the opportunity to mail in their questions, to be vetted in the most undemocratic way possible, so that really tough ones, will be eliminated before any council-hopeful gets nervously befuddled at the microphone. Most likely, there will be no "open microphone," because organizers would suspect some radical citizen, might actually unleash a sensible, and relevant question, about local governance. Heaven forbid democracy should enter into a municipal election. What anarchy might be unleashed, by placing an open microphone, for constituent questions! Live.! From the floor! Every citizen eligible to vote, should boycott such a non-debate.
     Let me put it this way. Every single person running for municipal office, should withdraw from any such all candidates' meeting
that disallows questions from the floor. I will never attend an event again, that is supposed to be democratic, but denies freedom of speech, and access to candidates, in a democratic forum. Even if I was to decide to run for council, at the last minute, (you never know) I would not attend such a meeting, and yes, it would be in protest. Do you suppose the media could care less? I'd like to know this. Last time, the media had no interest whatsoever, and accepted this compromise of democracy, instead of running a front page editorial; as I would have in the same circumstance; and I would have been right for doing so. Will candidates refuse to participate in such an event, not welcoming uncensored questions from the audience? Not bloody likely. This should piss everyone off, who values democratic privilege. Think about the suffering in so many countries in this world, of citizens who would cherish the democratic privileges we have at our beck and call. So when it is denied, and freedom suppressed for no good reason, to me, it invalidates the entire election process. The only thing newsworthy or insightful after the all candidate meeting, afterall, is either at the discretion of the media, or with candidates who buy advertising to promote themselves.
     Who would you hire to run a mulit-million dollar corporation? Think about it, when you get your election ballots. Do we have the talent, and experience, in council hopefuls, at present, to successfully run our corporation? I don't feel comfortable at present, and certainly hope, that by time the final hour elapses, for council registration, that more qualified corporate leaders, put their names out there, for the benefit of our community.
     I have, to this point, opted out of registering, because I am not qualified, plain and simple, to run a multi-million dollar corporation, at least in a profitable way. I have no problem admitting this. I wish others could, instead of screwing up, and then blaming everyone and everything else for their failures. There are some however, who will never admit it, and we all will suffer as a direct result. This will be a hugely challenging four year term, and with over-budget issues hanging over our heads, we should be holding someone to account. Can you believe the town blames being over-budget in public works, on the heavy snowfall this past winter? For God's sake, we live in a region with a long history of brutal winters. A sensible plan, is to always over-budget for snow removal. The weather reality is, this is going to happen again soon. The taxpayer is going to pay for this under-estimation, one way or another. Shall we try the status quo thing for another four year term?
     Feel like you could lead us into the future? I'm always willing to share some insights, and back a worthy candidate, no matter what the position. We need a council that doesn't manufacture reasons for putting stop signs where they're not needed. We don't need Council being in the entertainment business, at the Opera House, when a board of directors would do a much better, more informed job. We don't need a council that waffles, and we sure as hell need to fully appreciate what money we're pissing away, with roof-work, because I don't think we're getting good value for our tax investment.
     But what we need most, are brave women and men to step forward, and text the taxpayers' resolve for change. You might be surprised at how an election can go from a snore-fest, to a full "broom-sweeping" celebration; out with the old, in with the new!
     Thanks so much for joining me today. It's great to have you along for the ride.


FROM THE ARCHIVES

Doctor Livingston I presume. Photo by Rob Currie

THE HAUNTED HUDSON RIVER VALLEY? THE HAUNTED MUSKOKA LAKELAND?

     I HAVE BEEN READING WASHINGTON IRVING'S FASCINATING TALE OF THE "STORM SHIP," OVER THE LAST FEW HOURS.....A FICTIONAL STORY ABOUT A TIME IN HISTORY, WHICH TOOK PLACE, SOMEWHERE ALONG THE HISTORIC HUDSON RIVER, WHERE MY ANCESTORS HAD SETTLED IN THE COMMUNITIES SPREAD OUT ALONG ITS SHORE. ON THE DUTCH SIDE OF MY FAMILY, THE VANDERVOORTS WERE PRETTY SIGNIFICANT PROPERTY OWNERS ON THE EASTERN SEABOARD, AND WHEN THERE'S A FAMILY REUNION, WE NEED MORE THAN A FEW BOWLS OF POTATO SALAD AND COLESLAW. I THINK THEY WERE THE CITIZEN RESIDENTS OF SLEEPY HOLLOW, AS WELL. SUZANNE HAS DONE EXTENSIVE RESEARCH, AND SURE ENOUGH, MY GREAT-GRANDMOTHER, ON MY MOTHER'S SIDE, WAS A CULTURAL LINK BETWEEN THE DUTCH AND GERMAN SETTLERS OF EARLY AMERICA. MAYBE IT'S WHAT HAS DRAWN ME TO THE WORK OF WASHINGTON IRVING FOR SO MANY YEARS NOW. I KNOW THAT WHEN I WAS FINISHED MY RESEARCH WORK, ON THE NAMING OF BRACEBRIDGE, ONTARIO, AFTER HIS BOOK, "BRACEBRIDGE HALL," I NEVER SHELVED MY IRVING BOOKS FOR LONG. I USE THEM ALL THE TIME, IN FACT, OFTEN FOR JUST READING ENTERTAINMENT. HE HAS MANY STORIES INVOLVING THE DUTCH SETTLERS......AND IT REMINDS ME OF THE GOOD OLD DAYS. I JUST WASN'T THERE TO GET THE FULL BENEFIT. IRVING LETS ME KNOW WHAT I MISSED. I KEEP TELLING SUZANNE THAT WE'RE GOING TO CRASH ONE OF THE FAMILY PARTIES ONE OF THESE DAYS. OF COURSE, THEY DON'T KNOW ME YET. THAT'S COMING.

     WASHINGTON IRVING WAS VERY FOND OF TRADITION AND ITS PRESERVATION, AND HE WAS PARTICULARLY INTERESTED IN THE OLD FOLK STORIES FROM HIS AREA OF RESIDENCE.....AT SUNNYSIDE, NEW YORK. "THE STORM SHIP," IS ONE OF THOSE EXAMINATIONS OF FOLK TALES, PUT INTO A SHORT STORY, WITH A RICH HISTORIC TEXTURE......SO WELL WRITTEN, YOU CAN FEEL THE STORMY MIST THE SHIP SAILS THROUGH, WITH ITS CAST OF ODD DUTCH CHARACTERS MANNING THE SAILS. I WILL RE-VISIT THIS STORY IN COMING BLOGS, BECAUSE IT DOES RELATE TO WHAT MANY FOLKSTORIES CHARACTERIZE HERE IN MUSKOKA. JUST NOT WITH SCHOONERS. MORE SO WITH PHANTOM STEAMSHIPS, ROW BOATS AND CANOES. I'VE GOT ONE ABOUT THE PHANTOM RAILWAY EMPLOYEE, WHO WALKS ALONG THE TRACKS NEAR FALKENBURG, WITH A LIT LANTERN. THERE WAS AN EMPLOYEE KILLED ON THAT STRETCH EARLY IN THE 1900'S.

     I HAVE FOR LONG AND LONG, FOUND PARALLELS BETWEEN WHAT IRVING WROTE, BACK IN THE EARLY 1800'S, RELATED TO THE CULTURAL HERITAGE OF NEW YORK AND THE HAUNTED HUDSON RIVER VALLEY, (LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW), AND MY OWN RESEARCH ABOUT THE FOLK TALES TOLD HERE SINCE PIONEER TIMES. WHILE VERY LITTLE WAS RECORDED, BECAUSE THERE WAS NO IRVING TO DOCUMENT AND RE-TELL THEM, FOR THE SUCCESSIVE GENERATIONS SINCE. BUT I HAVE HEARD ENOUGH, TO ASSESS, THAT MUSKOKA MIGHT ALSO HAVE BEEN A WONDERFULLY RICH GARDEN TO HARVEST, IF ONE HAD THE INCLINATION TO WRITE A BOOK OR TWO. I'M WORKING ON IT, AT LEAST THE BEST I CAN, BUT IT IS A PROGRESSIVE THING, AFTERALL. WHAT EVENTUALLY HAPPENS, IS THAT FOLKS, WHEN READING THE PREAMBLES, WILL OFFER UP STORIES FROM THEIR FAMILIES, ABOUT LORE THAT HAD BEEN PASSED DOWN THROUGH THEIR FAMILIES......SOME OF IT WITH DISTINCT EUROPEAN ROOTS. THE EARLY HOMESTEADERS, YOU SEE, BROUGHT WITH THEM THEIR OWN CULTURAL SUPERSTITIONS, FOLK STORIES, VIEWS ON THE PARANORMAL, AND WHAT MAY BE CONSIDERED THE EXTRAORDINARY. THEY HAVE BEEN PASSED ON IN MANY FAMILIES, AND THEY WILL ONE DAY BE HARVESTED.....AND HOPEFULLY BY ME.

     WHILE VARIOUS GHOST STORY AUTHORS FOCUS ON PARTICULAR ENTITIES THAT HAUNT THE HOMES AND BUILDINGS OF OUR COMMUNITIES, I AM VERY MUCH OF THE OPINION, THAT THE BIGGEST HAUNT OF ALL, IS ALMOST TOTALLY NEGLECTED. AND THAT IS THE NATURE AROUND US.....OF WHICH, ADMITTEDLY, WE MOSTLY NOW (TODAY), ONLY KNOW WHAT THE BOTANISTS AND ECOLOGISTS TELL US. IN IRVING'S DAY, AND BY HIS OWN ADMISSION, THERE WAS A WORRY THAT SCIENCE WAS DESTROYING THE SECRET, HIDDEN WORLD OF "THE FANTASTIC." THAT THE BOTANIST, IN DISSECTING A FLOWER, AND KNOWING EVERYTHING ABOUT IT, WAS BY FACT, AND DETECTION, BASICALLY TRAMPLING THE CREATURES UNSEEN, AND UNKNOWN, THAT HAUNT NATURE DAY AND NIGHT. THE BOTANIST SAW NO HARD EVIDENCE OF FAIRY RINGS AFTER MOONLIGHT REVELS, AND WORRIED NOT ABOUT PHANTOMS, APPARITIONS, HOBGOBLINS, THE FAIRY-KIND, AND ASSORTED BANDY-LEGGED WEE BEASTIES, SAID TO EXIST WHEN NO MORTAL IS IN THE VICINITY.

     IF THERE IS ONE THING, ABOUT THE MODERN GENERATION, AND THE WAY OUR OFFSPRING ARE BEING EDUCATED, THAT WORRIES ME CONTINUALLY THESE DAYS, IT'S THE DIMINISHED FOCUS ON, AND STIMULATION OF IMAGINATION; WHICH FOR MANY YOUNGSTERS HAS BEEN STUNTED, ESPECIALLY WHEN IT COMES TO THE APPRECIATION OF NATURE.....WHAT IS SEEN AND WHAT REMAINS UNSEEN......TO BE SPECULATED UPON, BASED ON KNOWLEDGE OF THE OLD TALES, AND TIME HONORED TRADITIONS. IN FACT, IN 1819, AND THEN IN 1822, WHEN WASHINGTON IRVING PUBLISHED HIS TWO INSTALLMENTS OF "THE SKETCH BOOK," THE SECOND IN THE FORM OF "BRACEBRIDGE HALL," IT WAS HIS ADMITTED WORRY, THAT THE TRADITIONS OF ENGLAND, AND THEIR RELATIONSHIP WITH THOSE OF ENGLISH ANCESTRY IN AMERICA, WERE BEING SENSELESSLY ABANDONED, QUICKLY AND RECKLESSLY, AS IF THERE WAS NO CONSEQUENCE IN DOING SO.  THEY WERE CERTAINLY BEING ABANDONED IN A NEW LAND, AND IN THE FANNING OUT OF THE INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION, THE BELIEF IN THE SUPERNATURAL SEEMED IRRELEVANT. IT WAS APPARENT TO IRVING THAT IT WAS A GREAT SHAME, TO DISMISS THE IMPORTANCE OF THESE CULTURAL NECESSITIES OF SOCIAL CHARACTER.....GENERATION TO GENERATION, AS WE SHOULD ALL BE PROUD OF OUR CONNECTEDNESS TO CULTURAL HERITAGE; ESPECIALLY ITS RELATIONSHIP TO NATURE.

     IN THE COMING WEEKS, FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER IN THIS REGION, I'D LIKE TO PROPOSE A NEW EVALUATION FOR MUSKOKA........BASED ON SOME OF THE PARALLELS IRVING FOUND WITH THE HISTORIC HUDSON RIVER VALLEY. WHILE ITS SETTLEMENT HISTORY GOES BACK MUCH FURTHER, IT IS THE MAGIC AND ENCHANTMENTS OF THE REGION, WHERE I FIND THE RICHEST PARALLELS.....THAT HAVE NEVER BEEN THOROUGHLY EXAMINED BY CULTURAL HISTORIANS. I HAVE WRITTEN ABOUT MUSKOKA, IN THIS FASHION, FOR THIRTY-FIVE YEARS, BUT THIS WILL MARK THE FIRST TIME, IN A SUCCESSION OF CHAPTERS (BLOGS); THAT WILL, HOPEFULLY, AT IT CONCLUSION, ARRIVE AT SOME SECURE STARTING POINT, FOR EVEN MORE AGGRESSIVE RESEARCH BY FUTURE HISTORIANS.....AND AUTHORS, WHO SEE MUSKOKA, AS I DO......AS A VERY INSPIRING, ENCHANTING AND HAUNTED PLACE ON EARTH. THOUSANDS OF ARTISTS AND WRITERS HAVE FOUND IT SO, SINCE THE MID 1850'S, AND AS FAR AS "STORM SHIPS," YOU'D BE SURPRISED WHAT FOLKS HAVE SEEN AND HEARD EMERGING FROM THE MUSKOKA FOG. MUCH MORE COMING.

Not so spooky encounters with those who have passed

One such instance of a possible spirit encounter that comes immediately to mind, involved my father-in-law on the eve of his passing.

My wife had been at the hospital in Bracebridge, Ontario for most of the sunny day in October, awaiting what was inevitable. Her father was slowly succumbing to a serious heart condition and it was a matter of hours before he was released from this mortal coil. I was looking after our young lads here at our Gravenhurst home, sitting out on the deck looking over the beautiful woodlands we call The Bog. We were talking about their grandfather's circumstance when all of a sudden a small brass bell (which had once hung on the verandah of the family cottage on Lake Rosseau), rang everso lightly. We all heard the faint ping of brass but there was no one standing close by or any chance it was accidentally hit. I have no recollection why I said it aloud or why I related it to the ring of a bell but I whispered immediately to the boys, "Your grandfather has just died." In less than five minutes the phone rang and it was Suzanne calling to let us know her dad had passed. Coincidence? The work of the spirit world? A message from the deceased? Or just the tieing together of what we find convenient, wishful truths at that precise moment. It makes it a tidy bit of legend when we credit such things with paranormal intervention, when in fact it could have been a bug bouncing off the bell, at around the time my father-in-law succumbed. Still, keeping this story in mind as you read on, you will find many other stories that happen in a similar unanticipated, unexpected, quite impromtu way that seems a tad more than mere coincidence. Do these things happen to us because we're open to possibility? I think the messages are received, as John Edward, the well known medium has maintained, when we validate that those who have passed can communicate with the living. We have always been receptive but we don't spend our time questing out spirits from their eternal peace. They find us when they feel so inclined. And we pay attention, let me tell you.

It may just be a word, a sensation, aroma in a room, a reaction to a piece of music or a scene outdoors that often reminds us of days with loved ones now passed. Usually we are reminded of some incident that occurred, vividly recalling the time and place, and we often pause and ponder whether there is a subtle message within. Was it just a sentimental moment? Or did someone on the other side feel compelled to remind us of a commitment we once made, or a promise yet to be fulfilled. As one example, I was sitting in the yard one afternoon in the fall of 2007, when all of a sudden I said to Suzanne "Witch Hazel." "I have no idea why this came to my mind......does it ring a bell with you?" She didn't have an immediate answer but the more we thought about it, many suggestions were made about where this would have come up in our respective lives. While there was no conclusion it did make us talk about the old days of Suzanne's family in the Ufford and Windermere area of Muskoka.....dating back as far as the 1870's family homestead. Was it a mission inspired by the other side to link us with some important detail we needed to know? We have no idea to this day but every now and again the plant name will pop up as if to remind us to keep up the quest.

I probably validate the spirit-kind more than most people I suppose, and I frequently will make some one-way chatter with old chums of mine, when I'm suddenly reminded of their unretiring characters. If I'm looking for an old book I need for some research project, I may seek the help of my old book collecting buddy, David Brown, ( I wrote his biography following his death in the mid 1990's), and on many, many occasions, possibly a few days later, I will eventually find the book I was looking for. Rather than making adament claims that "No of course, Brownie couldn't possibly have helped me from the spirit-world," I just take the book and thank Dave as if he was fully responsible. Reminds me of the old anecdote about the woman who complained to a friend that her mentally stressed son thought he was a chicken, and when the friend said that she should tell him bluntly he was to cease the nonsense, the mother replied, "I would but we need the eggs." If Dave Brown can help me find a book I need, because that was his specialty amongst the living, well folks, I'm going to chatter away and take what breaks are afforded me. That's pretty much the slant of this series of blogs on ghosts and spirit-kind I have encountered. It's not to convince you that ghosts exist but rather to explain why we, the Curries, have been able to walk so freely, happily and communicative amongst them for all these years. We're not mediums and we've never been to a seance. We do read a lot of books about ghosts and the paranormal but I couldn't even quote you one line that convinced me of ghost/paranormal existence.

Much of it goes back to having parents that refused to quash expectation, and who nurtured free thought and unrestricted privilege to challenge anything we felt was mired in doubt, inaccuracy and complacency from counter-point. Suzanne's parents and mine never once discouraged us from full investigation, and in fact, gave us the moral courage to take giant steps where others chose modest proportion, and caution every step of the way. We celebrated fantasy as we embraced freedom, and it made us cunning investigators, who might well have squeezed through the small door that opened to Alice's Wonderland, or snuck in line to get the first enchanted step along the yellow brick road (ahead of Dorothy) on the way toward Oz. And if we had come upon the midnight revel of the wee fairies in these enchanted Muskoka woodlands, we would have instinctively and by knowledge known, to watch only in silence, respectful of the full rights and privilege of legend and lore.

My favorite author, Washington Irving, once wrote that he was disappointed that science was dissecting all the fantasy from the world, into only what could be precisely identified, documented and thusly and finally attributed to the life of individual species. Irving thought that it would be a terrible corruption to those traditions and fantasies, if mankind was to give up on things like fairies and the existence of other enchanted wee beasties that emerge occasionally from the mist of such haunted places as dark, historic woodlands; from beneath rickety old bridges, and deep caverns in the rock grandeur of moss covered hillsides. Science, he thought, should not be the only source for information, and it certainly must not be the initiative to abandon expectation and fantasy, or believe for one moment that there are no such things as phantom sailing ships on the Hudson River, or a headless horseman who seeks the noggins of unsuspecting weak-willed mortals. He thought enchantments had their place in this world, and I have taken his advisory to heart all these years, and have never been disappointed in the immersion and fantasy, I have been privileged to experience......by being open to possibility, and believing as an eternal child, that the universe is a very fascinating, dynamic place afforded to mortals in which to dwell.

The Peace and Solitude Of A Country Cemetery; I Met With My Historical Cronies At The Anglican Cemetery

THE RESIDENT PEACE OF A GRAVEYARD - THE BIRD, SQUIRRELS, CHIPMUNKS, AND OTHER WEE CRITTERS OF EARTH, AND SKY, ANIMATE SOLITUDE

I STOOD BETWEEN THREE OF THE BEST KNOWN HISTORIANS IN BRACEBRIDGE - WHAT A HUMBLING EXPERIENCE

     KEEPING THE DECEASED COMPANY. FOR ME, I THINK IT'S THE OTHER WAY AROUND. AFTER ONLY A FEW MINUTES OF ADJUSTMENT, IN A CEMETERY SETTING, I CAN BECOME VERY CALM AND QUITE THOUGHTFUL. I HAVEN'T TRIED WRITING COPY IN SUCH A PLACE, BUT I CAN TELL YOU ONE THING. THE STORY-LINE OF CHOICE, WOULD HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH GHOSTS. IT WOULD HAVE EVERYTHING TO DO WITH HISTORY. WHAT THESE CITIZENS LIVED THROUGH AND ACCOMPLISHED, AND WHAT I HAVE SEEN OF THEIR FORESIGHT EVER SINCE. I THINK I MAY HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT GHOSTS IN GRAVEYARDS WHEN I WAS A KID, AS A VICTIM OF HOLLYWOOD THRILLERS. AS AN HISTORIAN, TODAY, I SEE THESE PLACES AS BEING SPIRITUALLY ENHANCED, BUT ENTIRELY POSITIVE PLACES IN WHICH TO STROLL ABOUT; EVEN IF YOU DON'T RECOGNIZE ANY OF THE NAMES. I COULDN'T WRITE LOCAL HISTORIES, WITH ANY SENSE OF ACTUALITY, WITHOUT KNOWING THESE PLACES, AND THESE NAMES. THE FAMILY NAMES ON THE TOMBSTONES, REPRESENT THE FIRST DOZEN CHAPTERS OF BRACEBRIDGE HISTORY. MANY OF THOSE FAMILY NAMES ARE STILL REPRESENTED IN OUR COMMUNITY, EVEN AFTER ALL THIS WATER HAS PASSED UNDER THE BRIDGE. THEY GAVE A COMMUNITY TO THE MODERNISTS, AND THEY SHOULDN'T FORGET THAT FACT, WHEN TODAY, THEY'RE (COUNCILLORS INCLUDED) MULLING OVER WHAT CHANGES THEY'D LIKE TO MAKE, IN ORDER TO RE-INVENT BRACEBRIDGE. I'D LOVE THE OPINION OF THOSE WHO RESIDE IN THESE QUIET PLACES, WHO CREATED OUR DESTINY, FROM ABOUT THE 1860'S, BASED ON COMMON SENSE AND ORDERLINESS. WE DO HAVE THEM TO THANK FOR GETTING THIS FAR ALONG. I DON'T FEEL WE USE THEM AS ROLE MODELS AT ALL. BUT YES WE SHOULD.
     AS I NOTED IN YESTERDAY'S BLOG, SUZANNE AND I TOOK A STROLL THROUGH SEVERAL BRACEBRIDGE CEMETERIES YESTERDAY, AND VISITED WITH SOME OF MY OLD CRONIES THAT I THINK ABOUT OFTEN. BILL ANDERSON, THE PAINTING-BARBER, AT THE BRACEBRIDGE UNION CEMETERY IN FALKENBURG, AND WITH FRED AND MARY BAMFORD, IN THE ANGLICAN CEMETERY, ON NORTH MANITOBA STREET. I DON'T KNOW HOW YOU FEEL ABOUT GOING TO CEMETERIES, OR MEMORIAL SITES, BUT I BECOME VERY SUBDUED. I AM NOT A SUBDUED HUMAN BEING, BUT THESE PLACES OF SPIRITUAL SOLITUDE, MAKE ME FEEL AS IF I'M ONE STEP AHEAD OF MY OWN HEARSE. I HAVE ALWAYS FELT LIKE THIS, AND IT'S AS IF ALL THE FOLKS I HAVE KNOWN, WHO ARE BURIED, OR IN MEMORIAL CAIRNS, ARE WHISPERING TO ME, "YOU KNOW TED, THE AFTER-LIFE IS A PRETTY DECENT GIG. WE'RE ALL FRIENDS IN HERE, AND BEYOND."
     I FOUND MYSELF YESTERDAY AFTERNOON, STANDING BETWEEN SIX OF BRACEBRIDGE'S WELL KNOWN HISTORIANS. I CALLED TO SUZANNE, WHO WAS VISITING SOME OF HER RELATIVES, BURIED ON THE SOUTH SIDE OF THE CEMETERY, TO LET HER KNOW THAT I WAS STANDING IN A SORT OF HISTORIC MATRIX IN REAL LIFE, REAL TIME. NOW CONSIDERING WHAT I WRITE ABOUT EACH WEEK, AND WHO MY MENTORS HAVE BEEN, INCLUDING THE BOOKS THAT HAVE BEEN MY CRUTCH FOR YEARS AND YEARS, IT WAS A POWERFUL SENSATION, TO BE STANDING BETWEEN G.H.O. THOMAS, HIS SON REDMOND, WHO I HAVE BEEN QUOTING FOR THE PAST WEEK, AND GEORGE BOYER, HIS WIFE VICTORIA, ROBERT BOYER AND HIS WIFE PATSY, EACH HAVING WRITTEN A BOOK OR TWO ABOUT MUSKOKA HISTORY. G.H.O. THOMAS, WROTE A HISTORY OF BRACEBRIDGE, WHICH I HAVE QUOTED FREQUENTLY, DURING THE PAST THREE MONTHS, AND WAS FORMER EDITOR OF THE BRACEBRIDGE GAZETTE. HIS SON REDMOND, A MAGISTRATE, WAS ALSO A WRITER FOR THE PAPER, AND THEN WROTE A COLUMN FOR THE HERALD-GAZETTE, IN THE LATE 1960'S, AS WELL AS COMPILING THE BOOK "REMINISCENCES." GEORGE BOYER WROTE A HISTORY OF MUSKOKA, THAT IS STILL HIGHLY SOUGHT AFTER BY COLLECTORS; VICTORIA WROTE AND PUBLISHED A HARDCOVER TEXT, PROFILING THE HISTORIC HOMES OF BRACEBRIDGE, (MY OLD NEWSPAPER CHUM, BRANT SCOTT TOOK THE PHOTOGRAPHS FOR VICTORIA'S BOOK), PATSY BOYER WROTE SEVERAL BOOKS OF HERITAGE STORIES, AND OPINION PIECES, ABOUT HER HOME TOWN, AND ROBERT J. BOYER, OF COURSE, WROTE NUMEROUS BOOKS, HIS MOST POPULAR BEING "A GOOD TOWN GREW HERE," PUBLISHED IN 1975. IT WAS REALLY SOMETHING, TO STAND THERE, AMIDST ALL THE FRIENDLY DIN OF BIRD-SONG, CHIPMUNKS RUSTLING IN THE NEWLY FALLEN LEAVES, THE SQUIRRELS SCOLDING EACH OTHER IN THE PINE BOUGHS, AND WATCHING BEES HOVERING AROUND SOME BORDER WILDFLOWERS. THIS WAS AN UNANTICIPATED SITUATION. I HAVE BEEN TO THE CEMETERY BEFORE, BUT I WAS DRAWN HERE ON THIS DAY, INITIALLY TO SEE THE "BROWNING" FAMILY PLOT, AS RELATES TO REDMOND'S WRITTEN ACCOUNTS; ROBERT BROWNING, OF COURSE, BEING THE ONE EJECTED FROM THE HORSE-DRAWN HEARSE, WHEN SOMETHING STARTLED THE TEAM. THE PALL BEARERS WERE STILL IN PLACE, AND CAUGHT MR. BROWNING BEFORE HE HIT THE SURFACE OF THE ROAD. SO I HAD TO SEE HIS FINAL RESTING PLACE, KNOWING THIS INTERESTING HERITAGE ANECDOTE. IT IS A PROMINENT STONE, AND FAMILY PLOT, ON THE SOUTH SIDE OF THE ENTRANCE, OFF MANITOBA STREET.
     I HAVE ENORMOUS RESPECT FOR ALL THESE FORMER CITIZEN - HISTORIANS OF BRACEBRIDGE, AND I CONFESSED TO THEM, AUDIBLY, THAT THEIR DILIGENT WORK TO CONSERVE HISTORY, HAS KEPT ME IN RICH SUPPLY OF RESOURCES FOR THE PAST THIRTY-FIVE YEARS. I COULDN'T GET THROUGH A MONTH, IN MY PROFESSION, WITHOUT REFERENCING THEIR WORK, IN SOME FASHION, AND TO SERVE SOME HERITAGE PURPOSE. I WISH I HAD KNOWN G.H.O. THOMAS, AND SON REDMOND BETTER, AND BY TIME I BEGAN WORK AT THE HERALD-GAZETTE, BOB HAD ONLY RECENTLY LOST HIS WIFE PATSY. VICTORIA AND GEORGE HAD DIED EARLIER. BUT I DO FEEL PRETTY GOOD, ABOUT THE FACT, I SPENT A LOT OF TIME WITH BOB BOYER, HUDDLED WITH HIM IN HIS DICKENSIAN OFFICE, ON 27 DOMINION STREET, LOOKING UP, AND CONFIRMING SOME HISTORICAL DETAIL, FOR THAT WEEK'S ISSUE. HE'D INVITE ME IN, IF I WAS IN NEED OF SOME INFORMATION FROM BACK ISSUES, AND WHILE CHEWING THE END OF HIS ENORMOUS CIGAR, AND BEING BARELY VISIBLE THROUGH THE BLUE HAZE, HE COULD SWIVEL HIS CHAIR, STICK HIS HAND IN THE MIDDLE OF A PILE OF PAPER AND BOOKS, THREE FEET HIGH, AND PULL OUT EXACTLY WHAT HE WAS LOOKING FOR. EVERYONE WHO HAD A SIMILAR QUESTION TO RUN BY BOB, WOULD ASK ROUGHLY THE SAME QUESTION WHEN LEAVING HIS OFFICE, INFORMATION IN HAND. "HOW DID HE JUST DO THAT? THERE MUST HAVE BEEN A THOUSAND PAGES ON THE PILE, BUT HE KNEW EXACTLY WHERE THAT SPECIFIC PIECE OF NOTEPAPER WAS BURIED." IT WAS THE BOB BOYER MAGIC. I SAW IT UP CLOSE, AND I STILL COULDN'T FIGURE OUT HOW HIS MIND WORKED IN THIS RESPECT. HE WAS DEFINITELY AN ARCHIVIST.
     WHEN THE HERALD-GAZETTE OFFICES WERE RENOVATED, SOME TIME IN THE MID 1980'S, I THINK IT WAS, BOB SUFFERED A HUGE SET-BACK IN HIS OWN COMFORTABLE COMMONPLACE, OF BEING MUSKOKA SUN EDITOR. THE SIZE OF HIS OFFICE WAS SERIOUSLY REDUCED, AND ALL OF US STAFFERS THOUGHT THIS WOULD CAUSE A MAJOR STIR FOR BOB, BECAUSE OF ALL THE CLUTTER HE POSSESSED, OVER SQUARE EVERY INCH OF THE LARGER OFFICE. THERE WAS NOTHING BUT SMOKE RESIDUE ON THE CEILING. DURING THE RENOVATION, BOB SPENT MORE TIME WORKING FROM HOME, OR AT THE BACK OF THE SHOP, WHERE THE LAYOUT CREW, CUT AND PASTED EDITORIAL COPY, AND PHOTOGRAPHS, ON THE NEWSPAPER FLATS; THEIR KNIVES DRAWN AND THE SMELL OF NEWLY WAXED EDITORIAL COPY PERMEATING THE AIR, WITH A STORIED, NEWSPAPER TRADITION, THERE BEING A TRACE SCENT OF CIGAR. HE THREW PLASTIC OVER HIS IMPORTANT PAPERS, TO KEEP THE DUST OFF THEM, BUT I REMEMBER GOING BY HIS OFFICE ONE DAY, WHILE THE WORK CREWS WERE USING A POWER SAW, AND SEEING HIM SITTING ON HIS CHAIR, IN FRONT OF HIS COVERED DESK, READING SOME COPY FOR THE "ALGOMA ANGLICAN," WHICH HE ALSO HAD SOME EDITORIAL INPUT. HE WAS BEING DUSTED AT THE SAME TIME, FROM THE NEARBY SAW, CUTTING THROUGH DRYWALL. HE WAS BEING COATED BY WHITE DUST, AND I'M SURE INHALING SOME AS WELL, BUT WHEN BOB LOCKED ON TO SOMETHING, LIKE PROOFING EDITORIAL COPY FOR THE TYPESET DEPARTMENT, HE WASN'T GOING TO BE RUFFLED BY SOME MINOR CONSTRUCTION IN THE VICINITY. I DON'T KNOW IF THERE WAS ANY DANGER WITH THE DUST, AND SMOKING HIS CIGAR, BUT NOTHING BLEW UP, SO I GUESS IT WAS BENIGN.
     WHEN THEY GOT HIS OFFICE RE-ADJUSTED, IT WAS SUBSTANTIALLY SMALLER. WE ALL COMMENTED TO HIM, HOW HE WAS GOING TO STORE ALL HIS ARCHIVES WITH THE MUCH SMALLER DIGS. "OH, I WILL GET IT ALL IN EVENTUALLY," HE'D MUTTER, CHOMPING DOWN ON WHAT APPEARED, FOR ALL INTENTS AND PURPOSES, LIKE A HALF-EATEN CIGAR. ABOUT A WEEK AFTER COMPLETION, OF THE REMODELLING OF THE LOWER OFFICES, I WAS WHIPPING BY BOB'S OFFICE, ON THE WAY TO THE DARKROOM, WHEN ALL OF A SUDDEN, HIS ARM REACHED OUT AND GRABBED ME BY THE ELBOW. THIS WAS HIS HABIT, AND I HAVE NO IDEA, HOW  HE KNEW WHO WAS COMING DOWN THE HALL, BECAUSE HE HAD LIMITED VISIBILITY THROUGH HIS AVERAGE SIZED DOOR, WITHOUT ANY WINDOW, EXCEPT TO OUTSIDE. MOST OF US WHO WORKED, IN THOSE DAYS, AT THE HERALD-GAZETTE, KNEW THAT AT ANY MOMENT, PASSING BY HIS OFFICE, HIS ARM WOULD REACH OUT, TO PULL US TOWARD HIS INNER SANCTUM. SO ON THIS PARTICULAR DAY, I WAS HALF EXPECTING TO BE HAULED INTO HIS OFFICE, BECAUSE THERE HAD BEEN SOME HEADLINE ERRORS IN THAT WEEK'S ISSUE OF THE MUSKOKA SUN; BUT TO MY GREAT SURPRISE, BOB JUST WANTED TO SHOW ME HOW HIS NEWLY RENOVATED OFFICE LOOKED. IT WAS WEIRD. I MEAN IT. THE MAN HAD SUFFERED THE LOSS OF A LARGE PART OF HIS OFFICE, YET IT LOOKED EXACTLY THE SAME AS IT WAS BEFORE THE CONSTRUCTION. ALL THE BOOKS AND PAPER WERE STACKED AS THEY WERE BEFORE, AND ALTHOUGH THERE WAS THE NAGGING SENSATION OF BEING CLOSER TO BOB THAN BEFORE, WHILE WE CHATTED, EVERYTHING WAS WHERE IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE, INCLUDING THE SEVERAL CRUMPLED PIECES OF PAPER, HE HAD RIPPED OUT OF HIS TYPEWRITER CARRIAGE, AND HAD TUMBLED ONTO THE FLOOR. IT WAS LIKE TIME HAD STOOD STILL. YET THE PLACE HAD BEEN TORN APART A FEW DAYS EARLIER, AND MUCH OF THE PAPER AND BOOKS, BOXED AND STORED UNDER PLASTIC, BUT IN THE SAME SPACE. "BOB, HOW DID YOU DO IT" I ASKED, ABOUT LOSING TEN FEET OF OFFICE SPACE, BUT HAVING IT LOOK AS IF HE HADN'T LOST AN INCH. "IT'S A LITTLE SMALLER," HE ANSWERED. "YOU SEE, I CAN'T MOVE MY CHAIR BACK AS FAR ANY MORE, AND I'VE HAD TO PUT THE BOOKS HIGHER ON THE SHELVES." WHICH WAS TRUE. YET WHEN HE WANTED TO SHOW ME SOME ARTICLE HE FELT WAS RELEVANT, TO A STORY WE WERE WORKING ON FOR THE NEXT ISSUE, HE ONCE AGAIN, BIT HARD ON THE END OF HIS STOGIE, AND WITH BOTH HANDS, MANIPULATED A LEANING STACK OF DOCUMENTS, AND PULLED OUT THE EXACT ONE HE WAS LOOKING FOR; AND AS BEFORE, SEEMINGLY AWARE, AS IF BY SENSORY PERCEPTION, WHERE EVERY PAPER OR NOTE WAS LOCATED, EVEN THOUGH IT SEEMED AN IMPOSSIBLE TASK.
      I WAS SO IMPRESSED BY ROBERT BOYER, AND THE WAY HE TREATED ME AS AN APPRENTICE, FOR THOSE TEN YEARS AT THE HERALD-GAZETTE, THAT SUZANNE AND I NAMED OUR SECOND BORN SON IN HIS HONOR. IN FACT, ROBERT USED TO COME WITH US, WHEN I WOULD DRIVE BOB DOWN TO ORILLIA FOR HIS EYE EXAMINATIONS AND SURGERY, AND THEN HE WOULD TAKE US OUT TO LUNCH, AT THE FORMER SUNDIAL RESTAURANT, WHERE HE'D INSIST THAT ROBERT SHOULD HAVE A CHOCOLATE SUNDAE. I REMEMBER ONE OCCASION, FOLLOWING A PERIOD OF FREEZING RAIN, DRIVING HIS CADILLAC DOWN ONE OF THE LONG SLIPPERY HILLSIDES IN ORILLIA, WITH BOB IN THE FRONT SEAT, AND ROBERT IN THE BACK, LOSING CONTROL, AND SPINNING WILDLY THROUGH AN INTERSECTION. BOB WAS READING INFORMATION ABOUT HIS EYE CONDITION, AND THE YOUNGER ROBERT WAS READING A STORY-BOOK I'D BROUGHT ALONG TO ENTERTAIN HIM. WHEN THE LIGHT CHANGED, TO RED, I JUST TOUCHED THE BRAKE, AND GOSH, I WAS SENT INTO A SPIN. RIGHT THROUGH THE RED LIGHT, MISSING TWO CARS CROSSING, AND NOT STRAIGHTENING OUT UNTIL WELL PAST THE INTERSECTION. I WAS ABSOLUTELY WILD WITH FEAR, BECAUSE OF THE TWO VULNERABLE PASSENGERS, WHO WOULD HAVE BEEN HIT BROADSIDE, AS THERE WAS NOTHING COMING ON THE DRIVER'S SIDE. I REMEMBER THANKING GOD, ONCE SAFELY ON THE OTHER SIDE, HAVING STOPPED CURLING DOWN THE ROAD A PIECE, AND THEN LOOKING OVER TO BOB, IN PREPARATION FOR THE LECTURE I WAS GOING TO GET, ON SAFE DRIVING IN WINTER CONDITIONS. BOB WAS STILL READING THE MEDICAL INFORMATION, AND HAD MISSED THE WHOLE SPIN DOWN THE ROAD. ROBERT WAS ASLEEP. I HAD TO CLOSE MY EYELIDS MANUALLY FOR THE NEXT HOUR, I WAS STILL SO SCARED OF WHAT WE HAD NARROWLY MISSED, OF A TRAFFIC ACCIDENT. WHEN BOB ASKED ME LATER, IF I WAS OKAY, I JUST TURNED TO HIM AND SMILED, "EVERYTHING IS FINE NOW BOB, JUST FINE." HE PROBABLY SAW THE FEAR IN MY EYES, BUT HAD MISSED THE ENTIRE SHORT-LIVED EPISODE, AND I NEVER ADMITTED IT TO HIM LATER-ON EITHER. I DID SORT OF THINK OF IT, WHILE STANDING THERE, READING HIS NAME, ETCHED ONTO THE BOYER TOMBSTONE, AND I'M SURE MY THOUGHTS EXPLAINED THE WHOLE MISADVENTURE, AND HOW LUCKY WE WERE, ON THAT DAY, TO HAVE ESCAPED SERIOUS INJURY. AFTER THAT INCIDENT, I REFUSED TO DRIVE BOB'S CAR, AND INSTEAD MOTORED HIM TO HIS APPOINTMENTS IN OUR OLDSMOBILE WHICH WAS A NICE RIDE, BUT NOT AS LUXURIOUS AS THE CADILLAC. I WONDERED IF THE COMFORTS OF THAT CAR, HAD DRAWN ME INTO COMPLACENCY ABOUT THE DRIVING CONDITIONS, WHICH HAD BEEN SLOWLY IMPROVING, ON THAT DAY, BUT NOT IN ALL LOCATIONS. THERE WASN'T A LICK OF SAND ON THAT INTERSECTION. I SHOULD HAVE BEEN GOING SLOWER. I'VE NEVER CAUSED AN ACCIDENT IN MY DRIVING LIFE, WHICH BEGAN SHORTLY AFTER MY SIXTEENTH BIRTHDAY. I WAS MOVED BY A NUMBER OF MEMORIES, STANDING THERE, THINKING ABOUT BOB BOYER, AND OUR TIME SPENT TOGETHER AT THE HERALD-GAZETTE, AND OTHER PLACES AROUND THE REGION. I'M NOT AT ALL SURE HOW BOB WOULD HAVE REACTED, HAD HE SEEN THE FULL SPIN OF TERROR, BUT WELL, THAT'S HISTORY NOW AS WELL.
     I MOVED ON THROUGH THE CEMETERY, TO TOUCH THE MONUMENTS (THIS IS MY WAY OF CONNECTING) BELONGING TO OTHER FRIENDS, WHO HAVE DEPARTED, SOME EVEN RECENTLY. I SAID HELLO TO GORD "GORDO" LOMAS, WHO I WORKED WITH IN THE PRINT MEDIA FOR MANY YEARS, TIM ROWE, WHO TAUGHT ME HOW TO PLAY THE BARITONE IN JOHN RUTHERFORD'S MUSIC CLASS, AT BRACEBRIDGE HIGH SCHOOL, BUS BRAZIER, WHO PLAYED CHIEF MUSKEUQUE, (SPELLED MANY DIFFERENT WAYS) IN ABOUT A THOUSANDS PARADES AND FESTIVALS, (WEARING BEAR GREASE HE CLAIMED, WHILE BEING BARE CHESTED IN SANTA CLAUSE PARADES), AND GARTH "BUTCH" BRAZIER, AN ALL STAR PLAYER ON THE OLD INTERMEDIATE "C" HOCKEY TEAM, "THE HUSKIES," FROM THE LATE 1960'S. GARTH WAS DROWNED IN A HUNTING-SEASON BOATING MISHAP, AND I HANDLED HIS MEMORIAL DISPLAY AT THE BRACEBRIDGE ARENA, WHICH WAS ORIGINALLY ERECTED IN THE OLD LOBBY, A MONTH OR SO AFTER HE WAS KILLED. I HAD THE CHANCE TO SEE HIM PLAY, AND IT'S TRUE WHAT THEY SAY; HE WAS AN ALL-STAR PLAYER FOR SURE.
     ON A QUICK COUNT, SUZANNE AND I ESTIMATED, ON THE CONSERVATIVE SIDE, TO HAVING KNOWN UPWARDS OF TWO HUNDRED OF THE FORMER CITIZENS BURIED IN THE ANGLICAN CHURCH CEMETERY. HER AUNT AND UNCLE, MARY AND REG BILLINGSLEY ARE BURIED THERE, ALONG WITH SUZANNE'S COUSIN, DOUG, VICKY AND THEIR INFANT DAUGHTER, SARAH, WHO WAS THREE YEARS OLD AT TIME OF PASSING. HER COUSIN DOUG, WAS MARRIED TO VICKY BOYER, BOB BOYER'S DAUGHTER. SO NOT ONLY WAS I BOB'S ASSOCIATE EDITOR, WITH THE MUSKOKA SUN, AND HIS OCCASIONAL DRIVER, I WAS ALSO AN IN-LAW THROUGH SUZANNE'S FAMILY RELATIONSHIP.
     THE MOST INTERESTING PART OF THE STROLL THROUGH THE CEMETERY, WAS MY CONNECTION TO THE HISTORIC FAMILIES OF BRACEBRIDGE, THAT I WRITE ABOUT EACH YEAR, INCLUDING NAMES LIKE MAHAFFY, LOUNT, BASTEDO, BROWNING, SALMON, AND PARLETT. I STOOD ON RUSS SALMON'S PLOT AND SAID HELLO. I USED TO TAKE PHOTOGRAPHS OF RUSS WHEN HE PLAYED "SANTA" AT BRACEBRIDGE'S "SANTA'S VILLAGE." HE WAS A REGULAR AT THE OLD CURLING CLUB, WHEN IT WAS LOCATED ACROSS FROM THE ARENA ON JAMES STREET. I'D SEE RUSS AT LEAST ONCE A DAY WHEN I WAS YOUNGER, AND HE NEVER GOT FAR DOWN MANITOBA STREET, WITHOUT STOPPING TO CHAT WITH HIS CRONIES. IT SEEMED EVERYONE KNEW RUSS SALMON BACK THEN, AND A LOT OF CONVERSATIONS HAD TO DO WITH SPORTS. HE LOVED REKINDLING MEMORIES OF OLD CHAMPIONSHIP TEAMS, MEMORABLE GAMES, AND RECOLLECTING THE EXPLOITS OF OLDER STARS FROM THE GOLDEN YEARS OF RIVER AND POND SHINNY. I WHISPERED A HELLO TO CANON DAVID MITCHELL, OF ST. THOMAS ANGLICAN CHURCH, WHO YOU COULD SET YOUR WATCH BY, AS HE WALKED FROM THE CHURCH TO THE MANSE, ON MCMURRAY STREET, THROUGH MEMORIAL PARK; I COULD WATCH HIS COMINGS AND GOINGS FROM MY ATTIC WINDOW, AT THE FORMER HOME OF DR. PETER MCGIBBON, ON MANITOBA STREET. HIS WAS QUITE A STRIKING PRESENCE, WEARING A BLACK ROBE, CROSSING THE PARK ON THE BITTEREST WINTER DAY, DURING A SNOW SQUALL. HE USED TO DROP IN TO SEE BOB BOYER, AT THE HERALD-GAZETTE, QUITE FREQUENTLY, AS BOTH OF THESE FINE GENTS CONTRIBUTED MATERIAL TO THE "ALGOMA ANGLICAN." I STOPPED TO PAY RESPECT TO REVEREND STANLEY TOMES, ALSO FROM ST. THOMAS CHURCH, WHO USED TO DROP INTO THE HERALD-GAZETTE, ALSO TO SEE BOB; BUT OCCASIONALLY HE WOULD POP UPSTAIRS TO SHOW ME A MODEL BOAT HE WAS WORKING ON, WHICH IF MEMORY SERVES, WAS BUILT WITHIN A BOTTLE. I DON'T KNOW MUCH ABOUT SUCH THINGS, BUT STANLEY DID.  
     I STOPPED, ON THE WAY OUT OF THE CEMETERY, TO CHAT WITH FRED AND MARY BAMFORD, FORMER OWNERS OF WOODLEY PARK COTTAGES, ON TORONTO STREET, AND OPERATORS OF THE FAMOUS BAMFORD'S CORNER STORE, AT THE NORTH END OF THE BLOCK, THAT ALSO HAD THE FORMER BLACK'S VARIETY STORE, WHICH LATER BECAME "LIL & CEC'S." MY MOTHER MERLE WORKED AS A CLERK FOR THE BAMFORDS, SHORTLY AFTER ARRIVING IN BRACEBRIDGE, IN THE MID 1960'S, AND I CAN SO CLEARLY RECALL STANDING WITH FRED IN FRONT OF HIS RENTAL COTTAGES, AS BIRDS LANDED ON HIS HEAD, AND ATE SEEDS FROM HIS OUTSTRETCHED HAND. I WATCHED AS A CHIPMUNK PULLED A PEANUT OUT OF A SHIRT POCKET ONCE. I EVEN WITNESSED SQUIRRELS AND BLUE JAYS DO THE SAME THING. HE KEPT MANY BIRD BOOKS IN HIS LIVING ROOM, AND HIS GENTLE, PATIENT WAYS, MADE HIM A FRIEND TO MANY CREATURES OF THE FOREST. HE WOULDN'T EVEN HURT AN INSECT, EVEN IF IT WAS BITING HIM. HE WOULD JUST BRUSH IT AWAY, SAYING "THAT'S FOOD FOR THE BIRDS, SO BEST NOT KILL IT!" BOTH FRED AND MARY PLAYED A LARGE ROLE IN MY CHILDHOOD, AS BAMFORD'S WOODS, WAS WHERE I HUNG OUT, UP ON ALICE STREET. FRED HAD A RULE. YOU COULD PLAY IN THE WOODS, AS LONG AS WE DIDN'T HURT THE TREES, OR ANY OF THE CREATURE INHABITANTS, THAT CALLED THE SMALL FOREST  
THEIR HOME. I REMEMBER HIM GETTING AGITATED, WHEN ONE OF OUR FRIENDS, A YOUNG GIRL, FROM ONE STREET OVER, SLIPPED AND FELL OUT OF A SMALL PINE TREE, HITTING HER BACK ON AN EXPOSED ROOT. THEY HAD TO REMOVE HER BY AMBULANCE, AND FRED WAS VERY UPSET THAT HIS TREE HAD CAUSED SOMEONE ELSE PAIN. HE WAS LIKE THAT HOWEVER, AND ASSUMED THESE KIND OF EVENTS WERE CAUSED BY HIS NEGLIGENCE. THE GIRL WAS RELEASED FROM HOSPITAL LATER THAT DAY, HAVING RECEIVED NO SERIOUS INJURY, OTHER THAN SOME BAD BRUISING ON HER BACK.
     I WAS TALKING ABOUT MARY, A FEW WEEKS AGO, WHEN I WAS WRITING A RETROSPECTIVE OF SOME OF THE TOWN'S TRAGIC EVENTS. ON A SUNDAY MORNING, THEIR LITTLE GENERAL STORE, HAD AN ELECTRICAL MALFUNCTION, AND CAUGHT FIRE. THERE WAS SO MUCH INVENTORY JAMMED INTO THE SMALL ROOMS OF THE SHOP, IT WAS LUCKY, ON THAT MORNING, FIRST RESPONDERS WERE ABLE TO GET EVERYONE OUT ALIVE. MARY HOWEVER, AND I REMEMBER WATCHING THIS WITH MY OWN EYES, RAN BACK INTO THE BLAZING STORE, AFTER BEING INTITIALLY RESCUED WITH ONLY MINOR BURNS. SHE HAD A WALL SAFE, AND WANTED TO GET THE MONEY OUT BEFORE THE FIRE CONSUMED THE WHOLE BUILDING. I DON'T KNOW IF SHE RETRIEVED THE MONEY OR NOT, BUT SHE DID GET SEVERE BURNS TO HER HANDS, AS A RESULT OF TRYING TO GET TO THE WALL SAFE. THEY WERE TRYING TO WRAP HER HANDS, WITH TEMPORARY BANDAGES, BUT SHE KEPT TRYING TO BREAK LOOSE FROM THE AMBULANCE ATTENDANTS. THE BRACEBRIDGE FIRE DEPARTMENT WAS ABLE TO SAVE THE STRUCTURE, AND IT STILL EXISTS ON THAT CORNER OF TORONTO STREET, BUT NEVER RE-OPENED AS A CORNER STORE. MARY DIED A SHORT WHILE LATER, BUT I CAN'T RECALL NOW, IF IT WAS THE RESULT OF THE BURNS SHE RECEIVED THAT DAY. FRED HAD SUFFERED FROM HEART RELATED PROBLEMS FOR SOME TIME, AND I BELIEVE THIS IS WHAT EVENTUALLY CLAIMED HIS LIFE. ALL OF US KIDS IN THAT NEIGHBORHOOD, BENEFITTED FROM THE KINDNESS OF THE BAMFORDS, SO I DID FEEL IT NECESSARY TO LET THEM KNOW HOW I FELT, BEFORE LEAVING THE CHARMING SOLITUDE OF THE ANGLICAN CEMETERY. I CAN'T REMEMBER ALL THE NAMES NOW, AND ALL THE STONES I TOUCHED OUT OF RESPECT, BUT THERE WERE DOZENS I PAUSED BESIDE, IN THOUGHTFUL MEDITATION, ABOUT THE WAY OUR PATHS HAD CROSSED IN THE PAST; MANY TIMES, THROUGH MY WORK AT THE HERALD-GAZETTE, AND IN ASSOCIATION WITH MR. BOYER, WHO HAD A PARADE OF VISITORS, ON MOST DAYS OF THE WORK WEEK. I REMEMBER ONCE, SEEING FOUR OF HIS FRIENDS IN HIS OFFICE, BUT ONLY TWO LEAVE. I ASKED HIM ABOUT THIS, BECAUSE IT HAPPENED MORE THAN ONCE. "DO YOU HAVE A TRAP DOOR IN HERE BOB, BECAUSE HALF THE TIME, I DON'T SEE YOUR GUESTS LEAVE YOUR OFFICE OR THE BUILDING." HE'D WOULDN'T VERBALIZE A RESPONSE, JUST WINK, SMILE, CLENCH HIS CIGAR WITH THE SIDE OF HIS MOUTH, AND RETURN TO HIS TAPPING AT THE KEYBOARD IN FRONT. MAYBE HE DID HAVE A TRAP DOOR, OR AN ALTERNATE EXIT I WASN'T AWARE OF. I WAS ALWAYS FASCINATED BY THE COMINGS AND GOINGS AT THE HERALD-GAZETTE OFFICE, WHICH I ALWAYS FELT WAS, BY TRADITION OF THE PROFESSION, SPIRITUALLY WELL-ENDOWED. I NEVER PASS THE OLD BUILDING TODAY, WITHOUT THINKING THAT I CAN SEE BOB'S SILHOUETTE, THROUGH THE WINDOW, THAT WAS ONCE THE PORTAL FROM HIS OFFICE, ONTO THE REST OF THE WORLD.
     WHEN I ENTER A CEMETERY, ON SOME HISTORICAL MISSION OR OTHER, I INITIALLY FEEL THE SOLEMN REALITY OF THE MEMORIAL PROPERTY. I FEEL HUMBLE AND A LITTLE LOWLY IN THE PRESENCE, OF THOSE WHO BUILT THE COMMUNITY, FROM THE FIRST LOG CABIN AND CULTIVATED YARD, TO THE PRESENT HUSTLE AND BUSTLE, OF WHICH THEY LAID THE FOUNDATION TIMBERS. I STOPPED FOR A FEW MOMENTS, YESTERDAY, TO LISTEN TO ALL THE SOUNDS OCCURRING AROUND THE PROPERTY, AND IT WAS FULL AND ROBUST WITH BIRDSONG, AND SQUIRREL CHATTERING, EVEN THE SOUND OF A WOODSMAN'S AXE, SOMEWHERE OFF IN THE DISTANCE. THERE WERE THE REPEATED SOUNDS OF GOLF CLUBS HITTING BALLS, ON NEARBY SOUTH MUSKOKA CURLING AND GOLF CLUB, WHICH ONCE BELONGED TO LANCE HARDY, AND FAMILY, WHO, IN MEMORIAL TRIBUTE, I ALSO VISITED WITH YESTERDAY AFTERNOON. I DID A RECENT HISTORY OF THE GOLF CLUB, DATING BACK TO THE FARMSTEAD OPERATED BY THE ELDERLY MR. HARDY. NOTHING I COULD PREOCCUPY WITH, TOOK ME AWAY FROM THE SOMBRE REALITY, THAT THESE FOLKS AND I WERE A DIMENSION APART NOW. BUT AS THE HISTORIAN CAN DO, WITH THE STROKE OF A PEN, I OFFERED SOME OF THESE OLD FRIENDS AND ASSOCIATES, THE GUARANTEE, THAT OUT OF RESPECT FOR THEIR ACCOMPLISHMENTS, THEIR NAMES WOULD BE REPEATED OFTEN, FOR THE BALANCE OF MY OWN LIFE; BECAUSE IT'S THE WEIGHT I PLACE ON ALL THEIR AMAZING CONTRIBUTIONS, TO TRULY GIVING US "THE GOOD TOWN THAT GREW HERE."
     AT TIMES WHEN I READ ABOUT CERTAIN BRACEBRIDGE CITIZENS, BEING UNHAPPY WITH THE WAY THE TOWN IS PROGRESSING, AND HIGHLIGHTING ITS DEFICIENCIES, AND LACK OF IDENTITY, I WANT TO YANK THESE CRITICS INTO MY OWN OFFICE, AND GIVE THEM A NEEDED HISTORY LESSON. THE CITIZENS BURIED IN THIS BEAUTIFUL PLACE, GAVE US THE FOUNDATION ON WHICH TO BUILD A PROSPEROUS COMMUNITY. YET I KNOW FOR SURE, THAT MOST OF THOSE WHO COMPLAIN ABOUT WHAT THE TOWN DOESN'T POSSESS OF ADVANTAGES, HAVE LITTLE IDEA HOW HARD THESE FOLKS WORKED, IN THEIR LIVES, TO GIVE US THE "GOOD" TOWN STATUS. JUST BECAUSE WE DON'T ALWAYS FOLLOW THROUGH, IN THE CONTEMPORARY SENSE, DOESN'T MEAN WE HAVE A WEAKENED IDENTITY, OR A LESSER RESOLVE TO SOLIDER-ON, AND MAKE IMPROVEMENTS, AS THE YEARS GO BY. A STRONG FOUNDATION WILL NEVER LET A BUILDER DOWN. MAYBE I SHOULD OFFER THESE FOLKS A WALKING TOUR, THROUGH SOME OF OUR CEMETERIES, TO FORMALLY INTRODUCE THEM TO THE GOOD NEIGHBORS, WHO HAD SUCH MASSIVE INFLUENCE, ON WHAT THE TOWN WAS TO BECOME. THE IMPACT, SMALL AND LARGE, THAT THESE PEOPLE HAVE HAD ON THE WAY IT HAS ALL COME TOGETHER, DATING BACK TO THE LATE 1850'S. WE HAVE TO BE REVERENT OF THE BUILDERS, WHO CREATED OUR NEIGHBORHOODS AND OUR TOWN IDENTITY, AND OF THIS, AFTER A TOUR LIKE WE ENJOYED, I HAVE FULL CONFIDENCE, IN THE STABILITY OF THAT FOUNDATION TO SERVE LONG INTO THE FUTURE.
     I KNOW ONE THING FOR SURE. I WILL CONTINUE, AS LONG AS GOD ALLOWS THE WRITER TO COMPOSE, TO KEEP BRINGING UP THESE NAMES, AND CITIZEN CONTRIBUTIONS, FOR BENEFIT OF THE MODERN GENERATION, WHO HAVE NEVER HAD THE PRIVILEGE OF A CHAT WITH ROBERT BOYER, OR REDMOND THOMAS, AND NEVER EXPERIENCED THE GOOD FUN, AND CHEER, OF HAVING AN ANIMATED CONVERSATION WITH THE LIKES OF RUSS SALMON, OR BUS BRAZIER. IF EVER I WAS ASKED ABOUT MY RELEVANCE AS AN HISTORIAN, TO THE COMMUNITIES I SERVE, I CAN SAY WITH CALM RESOLVE, THAT "IT IS TO REPRESENT, AND CELEBRATE THE INTEGRITY, THESE CITIZENS IMBEDDED, FOR LASTING POSTERITY, IN THEIR CHERISHED HOMETOWN." BET YOU NOBODY WILL EVER ASK ME, TO DEFINE MY ROLE IN THE HISTORY PROFESSION. READING BETWEEN THE LINES, ONE MAY HOWEVER, SENSE THAT I DO HAVE ONE FOOT IN THE GRAVEYARD, NOT BECAUSE I'M CLOSE TO DEATH (OR AS FAR AS I KNOW), BUT BECAUSE I FEEL IT INCUMBENT, TO KEEP THESE CITIZENS RELEVANT IN CONTEMPORARY TIMES. THERE IS MORE TO LEARN, AT A COMMUNITY CEMETERY, THAN YOU WOULD EVER BELIEVE, ON YOUR FIRST STEP PAST THE MEMORIAL GATE.
     SUZANNE ASKED ME WHAT I WOULD WISH TO BE WRITTEN ON MY OWN TOMBSTONE, AND AT FIRST, I HAD TO LOOK BACK AT HER, AS IF SHE KNEW SOMETHING I DIDN'T. "WELL, IF WE HAD THE MONEY TO PAY FOR THE EXTRA LETTERING, AFTER MY NAME, DATE OF BIRTH AND EXPIRY DATE, I WOULD LIKE SOMETHING THAT SAID, "BY GOLLY, HE TRIED TO BE AS GOOD AS HIS MENTORS; MAYBE HE WAS, MAYBE HE WASN'T; NUFF SAID."
     THANKS SO MUCH FOR VISITING WITH ME TODAY. DON'T BE SHY ABOUT VISITING OUR MANY MUSKOKA CEMETERIES. THEY ARE TRULY INTERESTING PLACES, OF INSPIRING AND PLEASANT SOLITUDE. YOU NEVER KNOW WHO YOU ARE GOING TO RUN INTO. BUT I'LL TELL YOU WHAT. IF THE HISTORIANS FIND THESE PLACES REMARKABLE, FOR SO MANY REASONS, SO WILL YOU!

A Final Chapter With Redmond Thomas, Babs Simmons Was Holding Dinner

A FINAL CHAPTER WITH REDMOND THOMAS, FOLKLORIST, STORY TELLER, HISTORIAN

A BOOK OF "REMINISCENCES" PUBLISHED BY THE HERALD-GAZETTE PRESS, CIRCA 1969

     HERE IT IS. LABOUR DAY. THE KIDS WILL BE BACK TO SCHOOL TUESDAY, AND WE WILL BE EXPERIENCING A WELL DESERVED SLOW DOWN AT OUR ANTIQUE SHOP. DON'T GET ME WRONG. THE SUMMER SEASON HAS TO BE A GOOD ONE, OR WE WON'T BE ABLE TO MAKE IT THROUGH THE REST OF THE YEAR. THE STRENGTH OF SUMMER COMMERCE HAS BEEN A BIG DEAL FOR US MUSKOKANS, GOING BACK TO THE 1870'S, WHEN THE TOURIST INDUSTRY WAS BECOMING A SERIOUS INCOME PRODUCER. BUT FOR A FAMILY BUSINESS LIKE OURS, JUST LIKE WHEN SUZANNE'S FAMILY, OWNED THE WINDERMERE MARINA, AND OPERATED THE SNACKBAR, "THE SKIPPER,' LABOUR DAY IS AS JOYOUS AS IT IS A LITTLE SAD AND NOSTALGIC. I CAN REMEMBER SITTING OUT ON THE END OF THE DOCK, WITH SUZANNE AND THE BOYS, ANDREW AND ROBERT, AT THE FAMILY COTTAGE, ON LAKE ROSSEAU, AND WATCHING THE SUNSET ON A BEAUTIFUL SEASON; BUT FEELING A LITTLE LONELY, WHEN NONE OF THE FAMILIAR LIGHTS CAME ON, AROUND THE SHORELINE. THOSE COTTAGE LIGHTS, FROM EVERY PROPERTY THAT SUZANNE KNEW INTIMATELY, SOME OF THE OWNERS AND FAMILIES, GOING BACK TO HER OWN YOUTH, SERVING THEM ICE CREAM CONES AND MILKSHAKES AT THE SKIPPER; WHICH DATES TO THE LATE 1960'S TO MID 1970'S. IT'S A NOSTALGIC TIME OF YEAR, WHILE AT THE SAME TIME, IT'S A RELIEF IN MANY WAYS, THAT THE LONG, HOT DAYS OF WORK, ARE GOING TO RELAX A LITTLE BIT IN THE COMING MONTH, AND THEN MUCH MORE SO, ONCE INTO LATE OCTOBER. FOR US, IT WAS A GOOD AND PROSPEROUS SUMMER, BUT AS SUZANNE POINTS OUT, ALL THE WORK WAS DEDICATED TO THE ANTIQUE SHOP, SEVEN DAYS A WEEK, FROM THE 24TH OF MAY; MEANING THE HOUSE AND PROPERTY NEED A LOT OF UPGRADING DUE TO THE SEASONALLY TRADITIONAL NEGLECT. IT'S NOT SO BAD. BUT YOU JUST DON'T GET TO LABOUR DAY, IN THE TOURISM INDUSTRY, WITHOUT FEELING BOTH EXHAUSTED, AND A TAD REGRETFUL IT'S ALL OVER FOR NOW. IN OUR PROFESSION, IT IS THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE TRUE ANTIQUING SEASON, WHICH IS SEPTEMBER THROUGH UNTIL NEW YEARS. COLDER TEMPERATURES ARE ALWAYS BETTER FOR ANTIQUE-SHOP HOPPING. IT HAS A LOT TO DO WITH THE PIONEERING, HARVEST, THANKSGIVING, CHRISTMAS-SEASON NOSTALGIA, AND IT'S THE TIME IN THE SHOP, WE REALLY ENJOY, BECAUSE YOU GET A CHANCE TO VISIT WITH COLLECTORS, AND SHOPPERS GENERALLY. IN THE SUMMER SEASON, THERE ISN'T A LOT OF DOWN-TIME FOR CHATTING. SO WHILE WE HAVE SAID GOODBYE TO OUR MANY SUMMER FRIENDS, SOME WHO WE HAVE BEEN MEETING UP WITH, SINCE OUR FORMER STORE IN BRACEBRIDGE, BACK IN THE EARLY 1990'S, AND WELCOMING OUR AUTUMN SEASON FRIENDS, WHO STAY AT AREA RESORTS IN SEPTEMBER AND OCTOBER, SIMPLY BECAUSE THEY ADORE THE AUTUMN COLORS THAT MANIFEST IN OUR REGION. THERE'S ALWAYS SOMETHING TO LOOK FORWARD TO, IN OUR LINE OF WORK, AND ALWAYS SOMETHING TO GET INSPIRED ABOUT, LIVING AND WORKING IN THIS BEAUTIFUL PART OF THE CANADIAN HINTERLAND.

NOTE: SUZANNE AND I WENT FOR A LITTLE HERITAGE DRIVE ON LABOUR DAY AFTERNOON, VISITING TWO BRACEBRIDGE AREA CEMETERIES, INCLUDING THE BRACEBRIDGE UNION CEMETERY, IN FALKENBURG, (NORTH OF THE URBAN AREA OF BRACEBRIDGE) AND THE ANGLICAN CEMETERY, ON UPPER MANITOBA STREET. IN THE UNION CEMETERY I STOOD ON THE GRAVES OF THE HOLDITCH FAMILY, WELL KNOWN IN THE EARLY DAYS OF TOWN, AND I VISITED WITH WILLIAM "BILL" ANDERSON, BRACEBRIDGE'S FAMOUS BARBER-ARTIST, WHO WITH HIS WIFE, AT HIS SIDE, RESTS BENEATH A GIANT PINE; BILL WAS A MAN ABUNDANTLY AWARE OF THE FORESTS OF MUSKOKA, BOTH AS A WOODSMAN, IN HIS DAY, AND AN ARTIST. I STILL HAVE TWO WONDERFUL BILL ANDERSON PAINTINGS HANGING IN OUR SHOP. IN THE ANGLICAN CEMETERY, I HAD SO MANY STOPS TO MAKE; BUT I HAD TO SEE THE FINAL RESTING PLACE OF THE GOOD R.M. BROWNING, JUST INSIDE THE GATES OF THE CEMETERY, AS DESCRIBED BY REDMOND THOMAS. YOU MIGHT REMEMBER THAT IT WAS MR. BROWNING WHO EXITED THE HEARSE, WHEN THE HORSES REARED-UP, AND THE CASKET CRASHED THROUGH THE GLASS DOORS INTO THE ARMS OF THE PALLBEARERS, WHO WERE STILL STANDING AT THE BACK. I ALSO VISITED WITH ROBERT BOYER, MY OLD EDITOR-ASSOCIATE, G.H.O THOMAS, FATHER OF REDMOND, AND OF COURSE, I OFFERED THANKS TO REDMOND, ON HIS PLOT, FOR HAVING WRITTEN SUCH A TREMENDOUS BOOK BACK IN 1969. I WILL WRITE SOME MORE ABOUT THESE CEMETERY VISITS IN A FUTURE BLOG. WHAT SPIRITED PLACES THESE ARE...AND SO CALMING. WELL, WHAT ELSE COULD THEY BE? HAUNTING. ONLY IN A GOOD WAY! THEY CERTAINLY INSPIRE MEMORIES AND OH, SO MANY RECOLLECTIONS OF OLD FRIENDSHIPS.

"THEY WANTED BACK IN THE CLINK," PUBLISHED IN THE HERALD-GAZETTE, OCTOBER 12, 1967, AS WRITTEN BY REDMOND THOMAS

     Note: Here's a story for my old newspaper friend, Chris Thompson, related to the Simmons family of Bracebridge, referred to by Redmond Thomas, in this 1967 column, published in The Herald-Gazette.
     "One thought often leads to a train of them. After writing of the powder house explosion of 1906 (you can archive back this week to read this column). there came to me the idea of writing about the historic British Lion Hotel, nearly all of whose windows were broken by it. And after writing up the good old British Lion, there came to mind a story told me, quite a few years ago, by the late Lindley Simmons, who was a member of a fine old pioneer family, of Bracebridge, and himself had been a councillor of this town. It deals with an experience of one of his brothers, the late Gerrard J. Simmons, who was commonly known by his nickname, 'Bab', and whose son Gerrard and daughter Bessie reside here now," wrote Redmond Thomas.
     "In the mid 1880's, while the pioneer Northern and Pacific Junction Railway, was being built through Bracebridge, young Bab Simmons was an apprentice in Robert White's grocery and bakery business, located in the old McMurray Building, commonly known as the Brick Block, which stood at the south corner of Manitoba and Mary Streets, where the Anglican Church now is. Mr. White was the keeper of the old log jail which stood on what are now Court House grounds. Sometimes he sent young Bab Simmons to take meals to prisoners. On one occasion, when Bab went to the clink to take food to two inmates, he found the door locked, the windows secure, but no prisoners inside the edifice. It seemed like something from the Arabian Nights. Just as he was turning away, to take the food back, he heard the loud yells of 'Wait, Wait' and two men ran from the British Lion Hotel, which was just across the street. They were the prisoners," reported Mr. Thomas, of the return of the jailhouse guests.
     "They had been working on the construction of the railroad. The previous day, had been pay day, and in the evening, they had invested freely in alcoholic beverages, and become so riotously drunk, that they had been run in. Next morning in the bastille, they had an awful thirst and still had some cash left. Right across the street, they could see an oasis; the bar room of the British Lion Hotel. The more they gazed at the British Lion, the thirstier they got. The door of the prison was strong. The windows were securely barred. But the floor! Ah, the floor! It was only earth. If a little chipmunk can dig a hole in the earth, surely two husky men could dig one too. They did! They burrowed out of the jail and adjourned to the British Lion to slake their thirst," writes the Herald-Gazette columnist.
     "But the hard working construction men need food too. Why buy a meal at a hotel when the public purse furnishes one free at the jail? Why, indeed? So while they imbibed in the bar room, they kept an eye on the jail to make sure they did not miss a meal. When they saw young Bab Simmons arrive, with the meals, they gulped the last of their drinks, and hied them back to the jail for victuals! 'Them was the days'."

"TRUSTWORTHY MAN WHERE LIFE'S AT STAKE"

     In the October 19th, 1967 issue, of The Herald-Gazette, Redmond Thomas noted that, "My previous article recounted that in the railroad construction days, of the mid 1880's, two prisoners burrowed out of the old log jail, in order to slake their thirst at the British Lion Hotel (on Dominion and Ontario Streets), across the street, but hurried back to the clink when they saw their meals arrive there. But no mention was made of the pioneer peace officer who had run them in for being drunk and disorderly, though his merits have been extolled in deathless verse. He was Robert Howard. By night he hoofed it around the village. By day he rang the village bell. He had to sleep sometime, though when that could be is certainly not clear. And, so there was another citizen holding an appointment as constable, to act in emergencies, namely Gustavus Adolphus Binyon, proprietor of Her Majesty's Old Reliable Shaving Saloon, of whom I have already written."
     Redmond Thomas records of policing, that "Constable Howard was probably the most learned policeman in the British Empire, on the subject of astronomy. This education derived from his acquaintanceship with J.B. Browning, a lawyer, who dwelt on the west side of Manitoba Street, just north of the Queen's Hill (where the post office building now stands), and of whose quaint habits I have heard, from my father who was among his friends. Being an enthusiastic amateur astronomer, and having no family ties (as he was a childless widower), Mr. Browning used to stay up most of every clear night, pursuing his hobby of star-gazing; he would accompany the village constable on his star-gazing; he would accompany the village constable on his rounds, and expound on astronomy as they walked along. Each was welcome company for the other.
     "In those days, Asa Gildersleeve Churchill, an Irishman, who lived in a cabin in the part of Chaffey Township, which is now the 'West End,' section of the Town of Huntsville, and who used the pen name 'Paddy Prodpen,' was a noted Muskoka poet. Though the poet was gone before my time, I have heard of him from two friends, themselves now gone, who had personally known him, namely Joshua L. Yeoman, funeral director, a pioneer of Bracebridge, and the late William G. Gerhart, a pioneer of North Muskoka, who became a resident of Bracebridge when appointed Crown Lands Agent. Writing in rhyme, the poet used to prepare directories of places in Muskoka and Parry Sound district, and these were printed in booklet form by the Huntsville Forester. In the Bracebridge Directory, one of the epics deals with the village constable. In reading it, there should be borne in mind, that in those days, any hanging for a capital crime, committed in Bracebridge, would be at Barrie and also that Penetang was the location of the Reform School, and further that references to the village as the 'town' are poetic licence. Here (complete and unabridged, as the publishes would say) is the reprint of the poem."
     "Robert Howard, Nightwatch, Constable and Rings Town Bell"
     "Trustworthy man where life's at stake, while thousands sleep, he's wide awake' Hear! Midnight villains all in vogue, the thief, the robber, and the rogue, On expeditions be aware! The people's hope is watchman there! At his command, the town will list, and put the shackles on your wrist, The magistrate will say 'Give bail, or else we'll send you to jail.' Adults he takes on down to hang, and rude young rakes to Penetang. For breach of peace he will expel, at our town hall he rings the bell, at seven o'clock, at twelve and one, and six o'clock when the day's work is done; like a grand timepiece that repeats, and clears the ruffians from our streets."

MORE OF PADDY PRODPEN'S GEMS - A REDMOND THOMAS COLUMN, DATED OCTOBER 26TH, 1967, THE HERALD-GAZETTE

     Redmond Thomas noted, in a later column, that "In my last article there was quoted a poem by Asa Gildersleeve Churchill (pen name, 'Paddy Prodpen') of Chaffey Township, which appeared in his poetical Bracebridge Directory, of the mid 1880's. The issue of The Herald-Gazette, in which that article appeared, contained an advertisement for the Fire Fighters Annual Dance in Bracebridge Town Hall, which made me think that maybe it would be of interest to quote another poem from that quaint Bracebridge Directory. So here is another of Paddy Prodpen's gems:"
     "In Bracebridge centre, near town hall, I saw a shower of water fall; The sky was clear, without a cloud, and men assembled in a crowd. By water power forced from the falls, the gutta-percha serpent crawls, as trunks of elephants do spout, the liquid element about."
     "I asked the chieftan of the train, why art mocks natural showers of rain? And why the town in raptures run, to see the grand phenomenon? He said 'Our Councilmen and Reeve, in their great wisdom do believe, in self defence against a foe, that has laid towns and cities low, though useful in the cooking line. The seaman's aid who cross the brine, goes with the lightning of the air, commands the engine and the car, saves people's lives in frigid zone, made fearful havoc at the throne."
     "This fearful foe has governed fate, hath flamed in war and shown in state; this foe and friend to Adam's race, has no regard for love or grace. No conscience sting or generous smile, no grasp for grain, of pomp and style, no monster equal in degree, in terra firma, and the sea. Read Moscow's fate and then enquire, how martial pomp must yield to fire. Fires in Chichago stole a march, from a convent to the royal arch."
     "Reduced to ashes, all forlorn, European and this country's born. In wealth and grandeur asking alms, as true as Proverbs, Job, or Psalms, sent embassies through Christendom, to seek the penny and the crumb, for the savage, saint and sage. And in this town this present age, destroyed a mother and her child, and boarding house as it ran wild, are reasons why these men invest, and my reply to your request."
     "The town will build a firemen's block; hose shafts, with hames to fall and lock. In twelve seconds from the alarm, can shower the town and save from harm. Auspicious in the list below, invincible against the foe, as guardian angel for relief, Squire William Piper is the chief."
     "In martial form leads the brigade, James Hillman is captain, on parade. Squire F.J. Oaten, with his pen, is secretary for these men. James Olden also in the band, assistant at the desk and stand. First lieutenant H.H. Job, does honor to the crown and robe. Joseph Cooper, valient shield, lieutenant second in the field. Joshua Yeoman will assist, he is first branchman on the list. Third branchman is to face the fire, is Mr. George R. Frith, Esquire. Captain Pelkey does command, the hook and ladder's useful band."
     "Muskoka's rapids plainly heard, to order of Squire Henry Bird, divides and channels up the hill, as forty horsepower turns the mill, joins art with nature in that branch, against the flaming avalanche." (Henry Bird had the first power generation in local industry, at his Woollen Mill, above the cataract of the Bracebridge Falls.)
     Redmond Thomas offers a brief explanation at the end of the poem. "The reference to fire, 'in this town,' destroying a mother and child, is to a fire in which Mrs. Pawson and one of her children perished, when their home on Ontario Street burnt. Her son Richard, then apprenticed in harness making, to Mr. W.W. Kinsey (undertaker), was not home at the time. Mr. Richard Pawson, after having for many years been a harnessmaker for Mr. Kinsey, established his own shop in the old Crystal Theatre Building, on the north side of Thomas Street, which stood where the bowling alley now is. Captain Pelkey's name, spelt according to a pioneer mispronunciation of it. The name was really Pelletier."
     Thanks so much for joining me on this Labour Day weekend. It's always a pleasure to have you drop by for a visit. Welcome to the harvest season. I've got some special seasonal fare, coming up in the next couple of months. Hope you can join me.