Although I have been a father for over 50 years, I cannot remember ever getting a Father’s Day card from my daughter.

When I meet someone for the first time, one of the first things I am asked is, “Do you have any children?” 

I used to answer by saying I have a daughter. 

However, I have usually responded in recent years by saying, ‘No,’ because I find it difficult to talk about her with strangers. 

I have previously shared this part of my life only with a few close friends, but never in print.

I met and fell in love for the first time in high school in the late ’60s. 

I was eighteen, and she was sixteen. 

During the summer of ’68, my parents moved from Oshawa, Ontario, to Georgetown, about an hour’s drive away. 

However, I did not have a car or a driver’s license, so I decided to stay in Oshawa for my last year in high school to be close to Pauline Servinis, my girlfriend.

When I told my parents that I wouldn’t be moving to Georgetown with them, they tried to talk me out of it. They said they wouldn’t support me and that I would have to do it alone. 

At the time, I was working part-time at the Agnew-Surpass shoe store at the Oshawa Centre.  I made about 65 cents an hour, but only worked Thursday and Friday evenings after school and Saturdays.

Fortunately, Pauline’s father, George Servinis, owned the Colonial Restaurant downtown, so I could also get the odd meal by washing dishes in the evenings.

Initially, I spent a few nights sleeping on the couch at Pauline’s family home on Albert Street, but was invited to stay at her sister Vicky’s home in north Oshawa. 

I still remember the address – it was 109 Iroquois Street.

I don’t remember how much Vicky and Gerry Pacquette charged me for room and board, but it was only for a few months. 

Gerry asked me to pay more, and since I wasn’t making enough money working part-time, I had to find another way to live on my meager budget.

However, I liked Vicky and Gerry, and I understood the realities of life – nothing of value is free except love.

I found a place behind the Midtown Mall, on Nassau Street – at the home of Mrs. Simpson, a widow. 

I knew her son Robert (Bob) – we worked part-time at the Loblaws grocery store at the Oshawa Centre in 1963, when I was in grade 9.

My room at Mrs. Simpson’s was in the basement, but meals were not included. 

My rent was $12 a week, so I had to skip school a few days each month to work full-time at the shoe store to supplement my income.

My room consisted of a bed, a couch, and a black and white television that did not work. 

There wasn’t a stove or fridge, and I washed and shaved in the laundry tubs.

There was also a metal shower stall and a small closet.

I had a private entrance, but it was never locked.  We didn’t lock our doors back then – which would be reckless in today’s world.

But I was happy to have a place of my own.

There was a Dominion grocery store in the Midtown Mall, and they used to have a hot dog concession at the front of the store. 

Hot dogs were 10 cents, and my daily meals often consisted of two or three of these.

There was also Gambles, a discount department store that sold coffee for 5 cents a cup. 

I was always skinny in those days and was probably undernourished, too.

And as mentioned earlier, I got some meals at the Colonial Restaurant when Pauline worked there, after school and on weekends.

I am ashamed to admit that some days, I went without eating and got to the point that I would sneak upstairs into Mrs. Simpson’s kitchen and steal a couple of slices of bread – no butter – just plain bread. 

And if Bob Simpson is reading this, I hope he’ll understand and forgive me.

It was probably the second month of attending the high school that year when Mr. Doug Williams, the principal, called me into the office. 

He informed me that I would have to leave school because my parents were no longer living in Oshawa, and because they no longer pay property taxes, I wasn’t allowed to continue at the school and would have to go to my parent’s place in Georgetown.

I remember returning to my classroom to get my stuff and say goodbye to my best friend, Eric (Nick) Nichols.

I remember leaving school that day and crying in the parking lot.

I was devastated and didn’t know what to do.

And I didn’t know where to go to find help.

But the one thing I knew for sure – I would not go to my parent’s home in Georgetown!

CHAPTER TWO

I cannot remember exactly how I ran into Dave Powless, one of my dad’s friends.

Most of my dad’s friends back then were buddies he served with in the Ontario Regiment during WW2.  Dave was on the Oshawa School Board and said he would make a few phone calls on my behalf. 

A few minutes later, he told me that I could go back to school!  I was thrilled.

I don’t know what Mr. Powless said when on the phone, but I suspect he probably reminded whomever that my dad was a veteran who lost his eye in the war. 

My dad was also a lifelong resident of Oshawa – born and raised on Ritson Road – so maybe, that was why the school board allowed me to return to school.

After graduating high school, I worked at my friend Dino Demori’s men’s clothing store in the Midtown Mall.

Dino relocated his store a few years later to the Oshawa Centre and then several years later to his downtown Oshawa location.

When I met Dino, he worked on the assembly line of the car plant at General Motors. 

He also worked part-time, selling cars at Peleshok Motors in Ajax, a few miles west of Oshawa.

Dino was from New York City and had moved to Oshawa with his dad when his parents divorced in the early 1960s.

Dino had been working hard, holding two jobs to save money for his dream – to open a men’s wear store. 

He was probably in his twenties back then, and he impressed me. 

To go from working on the car line, selling cars part-time, and having a couple of guys boarding to help him with the mortgage on the house to open his clothing store!  

He was a self-made man, which influenced me to always believe in myself and never give up on a dream.

By the way, I met Dino, who was a friend of Pauline’s brother-in-law Gerry Pacquette, who used to board at Dino’s home on Philip Murray Avenue before he married Vicky. 

Dino asked me if I would come to work with him if and when he opened his store – and  I agreed. 

We also became best of friends.

I used to go with Dino to Spadina Avenue in Toronto to check out clothing suppliers. 

I still worked part-time/full-time at the shoe store until his store opened in the Midtown Mall. 

So, my first full-time job was working at Dino’s Men’s Wear. 

It’s also where I bought my first suit.

Dino let me buy clothes in the store for his cost, which was great for me. 

But Dino was initially struggling to build the business, and it was difficult for him to pay me, so I got a job (in the same mall) at Gambles Department Store, a chain of discount stores from western Canada. 

I became the Men’s and Boy’s Wear Departments’ department manager at the tender age of nineteen. 

My salary was $85/week, so I finally realized my first dream – to marry Pauline!

With my first paycheque, Pauline and I went to Burns Jewelry store on Simcoe Street to buy her an engagement ring. 

She picked out a beautiful solitaire diamond ring, but I only had a few dollars to put in as a deposit. 

The store manager asked if I wanted to open an account at the store, and I happily agreed. 

We left the store with my girlfriend wearing the ring, and it was just like a scene from Breakfast at Tiffany’s, our favorite movie.

But I also remember wondering how her father would react when he found out we were engaged.

I got the answer a few days later.

CHAPTER THREE

My job at Gambles was nothing I had planned when going to school. 

Before meeting Pauline, I had many dreams of what I would do when I was finally out of school and alone.  Working in a store wasn’t what I had envisioned for myself. 

But as they say, necessity is the mother of invention or words to that effect.

And besides, becoming the department manager of a large, discount department store at the tender age of nineteen seemed to me a significant accomplishment, and I was very proud of myself.

Although I didn’t have a car or much money yet, I was engaged to get married and couldn’t wait to tell my friends and family. 

But it wouldn’t happen immediately because Pauline was still in high school. 

However, it was one step further along the path to adulthood, and it felt like I was standing on top of the world!

My mother wasn’t thrilled when she got my letter in the mail. 

Yes, Spanky, we communicated by snail mail in those days. 

I never had a phone in my room.

So, the only way for me to communicate with my folks was by the payphone in the Midtown Mall or by writing letters.

Ma wasn’t thrilled when she got my letter in the mail.

And although my parents loved Pooch, they were against us getting married at such a young age. 

But I made my own decisions now and would never change my mind!

I think it was two weeks after we got engaged that Pauline met me after work one night to tell me something important. 

I remember that we were standing behind Gambles, under a light, when she told me; her father had forbidden her to see me anymore, and she handed the engagement ring back to me.

Although I have had broken bones before, the pain in my heart was nothing that I had ever experienced before. 

It was like having a hole in my heart; all my tears would not drown the hurt or pain.

A few weeks later, I took the bus to the lake and went to the pier of the Oshawa harbor, where Pauline and I used to go with her dad to watch him fishing for smelt at night with a large net.

And that’s where I threw the ring.

We never saw each other again.

Years later, my friends Alice and Peter told me that Pauline had married a rich man who owned an apartment building in Toronto. 

The news didn’t cheer me up – the hurt feelings were still raw – even years after the split. 

But as they say, life goes on, and your heart heals.

It was several months before I was able to think about dating again. 

But a cashier at the Shopper’s Drug Mart in the mall used to chat with me when I went there to buy cigarettes. 

She worked there part-time while going to school. 

She told me she knew of me because she attended the same school as Pauline.

We went out for a few dates, and then things got intimate, although without any emotional attachment. 

I spent a lot of time at her place because I got along really well with her parents. 

But she was an only child, very spoiled, and used to getting anything she wanted.

Several weeks into the relationship, she told me she was pregnant!

It was the summer of 1970, and in those days, when you got a woman pregnant, you had to leave town or get married. 

I wouldn’t leave town but knew I wasn’t in love with her. 

But it wasn’t a difficult decision for me to make, and shortly afterward, we told her parents. 

To my surprise, they were both thrilled! 

So we got married in August.

I remember the wedding day; my best man was Dino Demori. 

My youngest brothers, Ricky and Randy, were the ushers. 

Although unhappy that their twenty-year-old son was getting married, my parents attended the wedding and met my in-laws for the first time. 

I hadn’t told them that my fiance was pregnant. 

In those days, nobody admitted that they were getting married because of being pregnant, and only the closest of my friends ever knew why I was marrying Janet D’Angelo.

The other thing I remember from the wedding was the interval between the ceremony and the reception. 

It had been a large wedding in the morning, and there was a pool party at lunch at my new in-laws. 

But I couldn’t hold back the pain in my heart any longer and went inside the house to the spare bedroom feeling sick. 

My dad came looking for me, and when he found me in the room crying, he asked what was wrong.

I’ve made a terrible mistake, Dad! 

I don’t love her – we only got married because she’s pregnant, I sobbed.

“Well, you did the right thing.  Now, you must go back outside to the party and be with your wife!”

Initially, we stayed at my in-law’s home on Bloor Street in Oshawa. 

I did not have a car yet, so I took the bus to work or got a ride from my father-in-law.

About two weeks after the wedding, I came home from work, and my inlaws were in the kitchen at the table, and Bert, my father-in-law, was crying uncontrollably. 

And so was Jenny, my wife’s mother (I could never call either of them Mom or Dad – it just didn’t feel right).

I asked what had happened and learned that my wife of two weeks had returned with her ex-boyfriend and was staying with him at his parent’s place. 

She told her parents that she didn’t love me.

About a week later, she came home – apparently at the insistence of the boyfriend’s mother. 

I took her back even though I wasn’t in love with her – I did it because I would be a father.

We decided to try to make the marriage work.

Meanwhile, my job at Gambles was going great. 

I was now making $100/week and had been given the Fabric department to manage, in addition to the Men’s and Boy’s Wear departments.

Working retail is difficult – long hours, understaffed, and no overtime pay. 

I was beginning to see that there wasn’t much to look forward to at Gambles regarding future advancement.

Working retail is difficult – long hours – I worked ten-hour days, six days a week, was understaffed, and had no overtime pay.

CHAPTER FOUR

One day, while having coffee with Peter Jones, one of the supplier representatives who visited the Fabric Department each month.

He offered me a job on the road as a wholesaler representative for his sales agency representing buttons and zippers and a line of high-end velvet fabrics. 

It was the Spring of 1971, and I still didn’t have a vehicle, and the new job offer included a $175/week draw on commission.

My territory was all of central Ontario, with everything north of Toronto.

I would have to spend one week a month doing the North Bay to Timmins territory and another week on the Sudbury to Sault Ste. Marie, territory. 

I called on department stores and independently-owned fabric stores. 

I would check the racks of buttons and zippers in the established customers and re-order replacements.

My commission was 5-7% of the sale, and I paid all of my expenses, which included: car lease payments, gas and repairs, hotels, and meals.

Finally, an opportunity to get a car and our own place!

I accepted the job.

I leased a brand new Ford car from MacDonald Ford in Oshawa. 

The two GM Dealers couldn’t come close to matching the Ford deal – even though Oshawa is the head office of General Motors of Canada Limited, and many people worked there in several plants. 

Most of my uncles worked there, so it was a bit embarrassing. 

But the Ford car lease fit within my budget, and that was a priority.

We got an apartment on Simcoe Street in north Oshawa, and I finally saw a glimpse of the future, and it looked bright!

I spent a couple of weeks on the road with Peter Jones – who was moving back to England. 

He explained that it usually costs $100/week for expenses when doing each of the northern territories, which meant that I would have to sell a lot of buttons and zippers, and velvet fabrics to break even.

And I still had to pay for the rent, food, and living expenses.

My wife wasn’t working.

But I made over $11,000 in the first six months to make a long story a bit shorter! 

l was learning to be a successful salesman – I worked long hours and traveled many miles each month because I feared my commissions wouldn’t cover the pay advances I received each week.

My wife’s water broke on March 26, 1971, and we were rushed to Oshawa General Hospital.  

On the way, I noticed a robin – the first I’d seen that Spring. 

I thought ‘Robin’ would make a cute name for a child (boy or girl). 

A few hours later, my daughter Robin Jennifer St. Andrews was born, and I was the happiest person in the world.

But the happiness was short-lived, and my life was about to be shattered again by deceit and betrayal.

CHAPTER FIVE

I was twenty-one years old and had a family, a new car, and my only boss was the clock on the wall.

The marriage seemed to be working.

Although I can’t remember feeling any of the excitement or passion that one usually associates with a loving relationship,

I know I was beginning to be proud of what I had overcome in the previous two years.

I noticed the change a few months after we moved into a townhouse in south Oshawa. 

Suddenly, our infrequent intimacy became non-existent, and I spent most nights sleeping on the couch.

It is difficult when your hormones are racing at full speed, and then suddenly – celibacy at the age of twenty-two! 

At first, I figured it had to be due to some form of post-childbirth trauma – but Robin was almost two years old, so I assumed that something else was the source of her unhappiness.

I spent most nights sleeping on the couch.

One weekend, my buddy Bob Simpson invited me to play golf with him at his company’s golf course in Toronto. 

Bob got married and was working at IBM in Toronto. 

Readers will recall my story about Bob and me traveling to Washington, DC, to visit his girlfriend. Here is the link: Another Love Story

We had just played two or three holes on the IBM golf course, and I was standing in the middle of the fairway, getting ready to swing the club but stopped when a sudden flood of terror began to consume me.

But I did not know why? 

All I knew was that something was wrong, and I had to go home immediately! 

I quickly apologized to Bob and the others and walked off the golf course!

I started driving home with an urgency that I didn’t understand. 

I just had this overwhelming feeling that something was wrong at home. 

When I arrived, my wife was sitting at the table and crying. 

I asked what happened while my eyes scanned the room.

She replied that she was depressed and said she didn’t want to be married anymore. 

She said she didn’t think she ever wanted to be a mother. 

She also said that she needed time to think.

I suggested that she go and stay with Leslie, my older sister, who was living in Kitchener, Ontario. 

That way, nobody would bother her, especially her mother, whom she seemed to hate.

Several weeks passed by, and nobody knew where my wife was staying. 

She had remained with Leslie for a week but had left without saying where she was going.

I had already moved out of the townhouse and put the furniture in storage. 

Meanwhile, Robin stayed at my in-law’s place, and I stayed at my parent’s home in Georgetown.

Janet eventually moved back to her parent’s place. 

She had run out of money – she’d also run up a lot of bills on my credit card while she was on her ‘adventure.’ 

A few weeks later, she called me and asked if she could come to my parent’s place to talk to me – her father let her use his car. 

I agreed.

My Ma told me I should think hard before returning with my wife, but I just wanted things to return to normal.

When my wife arrived, we talked, and I agreed to move back to Oshawa. 

We decided to stay at a motel in Brampton on the way to Oshawa to celebrate getting back together.

We had been in the motel room for a few hours and had had a few drinks. 

Things started getting intimate, but she suddenly almost passed out before anything could happen. 

She was drunk – I had never seen her like this before. 

I tried to get her from the floor, but she was only semi-conscious. 

She started calling me Andy and did so repeatedly.

When she finally sobered up, I asked her who Andy was, and she appeared shocked. 

I said goodbye and drove back to my parents – alone.

A few weeks later, I got a call from a woman named Heather, who said she was a friend of my wife. 

She told me that she had come home from work early one afternoon and found my two-year-old daughter, Robin, sleeping on the couch in the living room. 

Heather said she then went into the bedroom and caught her boyfriend in bed with Janet. 

I asked her who her boyfriend was, and she said his name. 

She also told me that my wife had been with several other men.

I contacted a lawyer, who advised me to get an affidavit from Heather. 

I also decided to go to Oshawa and get Robin. 

I told my in-laws that I was taking Robin for a few days to visit with my parents and me and packed a bunch of her clothes and toys. 

However, I had no plans of bringing Robin back and went back to my parent’s place to fight the custody battle that was sure to ensue.

CHAPTER SIX

A few days passed before I called my inlaws and told them I would keep Robin with me at my parent’s place. 

At the time, they said they understood and agreed that Robin would be better off living with me. 

But after a few days, all that changed, and they were now taking their daughter’s side.

Over the next few weeks, the custody battle dragged on, and I was contacted by a social worker who would interview me to assess my parenting skills and abilities. 

A similar interview was conducted with Janet. 

Both of the interviews were examined by a judge, who decided who would be awarded custody.

I remember crying when I got the answer from my lawyer. 

So did my dear Ma. 

The court said that despite my wife’s wanton and scandalous behavior, it didn’t mean she had lost her ability to care for our child.

I drove Robin to her grandparents’ place in Oshawa and told her I would return to see her. 

I remember her reaching her arms out to me and crying. 

I tried to reassure her that I’d be coming back, but I’m sure my tears told her otherwise.

I divorced Robin’s mother in September 1973 – it was uncontested. 

My child support and visiting privileges were set out by the court. 

I would get Robin every other weekend, two weeks in the Summer, and alternating  Christmas/New Year’s holidays.

CHAPTER SEVEN

In 1974, I became a partner in a new wholesale textile company. 

At the time, I was self-employed as a manufacturer’s agent for Champlain Textiles in Montreal. 

I covered all major department stores and some of Ontario’s larger, independently-owned fabric stores.  Jack Alper also worked at Champlain and previously owned his own textile company. 

We became best friends, and he introduced me to Bobby Dundas, a manufacturers’ agent.

The company that we started was called Barry-Sue Fabrics, and it was located in Toronto. 

Jack named the company after his two children.

I moved to Vancouver and would be responsible for the accounts in western Canada, and Bobby would cover Quebec and eastern Canada. 

Jack would run the warehouse in Downsview and look after the Ontario accounts.

My first apartment in Vancouver was furnished and was at 1190 Alberni Street. 

But I only stayed there for a few months until my furniture was shipped from Ontario. 

I then moved to 1260 Nelson Street.

For the next 18 months, I traveled throughout the western provinces, prospecting for new accounts. 

The business was going great, and I was driving a sporty 1974 Trans Am that I leased from Bow Mac, the GM Dealer in Vancouver.

I was beginning to enjoy my life as a bachelor, living in the most beautiful place on earth.

I even had the phone number of a potential blind date. 

One of my former customers from Timmins gave me the girl’s number and said she was adorable. 

Although I had never been on a ‘blind date,’ I decided to call her. 

We spoke on the phone for several minutes, and she sounded interesting.

We agreed to go out for drinks; you’ll never believe what happened! 

I wrote about the date – here’s the link:  My First Blind Date.

Every few months, I returned to Toronto to see my daughter in Oshawa and visit my parents in Georgetown.

However, it seemed that I was the only person working among my business partners – and there were many arguments between Jack and me.

Jack was not paying me a salary – he was just paying my business-related expenses and giving me a lot of promises that I would get a percentage of the profits.

But you cannot take ‘promises to the bank!

So, I quit the business and ended our friendship.

I walked out of the door to join the unemployed.

But I never filed for unemployment – I was too proud to ever do anything that drastic!

Besides, I was too tired of traveling and living out of a suitcase!

Maybe, it was time to move back to Ontario and find a new career. 

I wanted to live closer to home but couldn’t bear to live in Oshawa again – too many bad memories! 

So, once again, I temporarily stayed at my parent’s place in Georgetown.

I got hired on my first day looking for a new job/career! 

I had to take a significant cut in pay, but at least I wouldn’t be traveling and living out of a suitcase.

But you won’t believe where I found employment.

To be continued.

UPDATE:  (June 23, 2019) – I will postpone writing the last few chapters.  Some of the events are still too painful for me.  But I wanted to leave Robin and Sapphira, my six-year-old granddaughter, whom I’ve never met – my own ‘Father’s Day story and hope that one day, they’ll read my story.  And I will definitely finish this story one day – just not today.  Hope you’ll understand. ~ Danny 

Dedicated to Sapphira

I hope my stories are a gift to your head and heart.

Hugs,

Danny

Today’s tune from Danny’s library (purchased):

Every generation
Blames the one before
And all of their frustrations
Come beating on your door

I know that I’m a prisoner to all my father held so dear
I know that I’m a hostage to all his hopes and fears
I just wish I could have told him in the living years

Crumpled bits of paper
Filled with imperfect thought
Stilted conversations
I’m afraid that’s all we’ve got

You say you just don’t see it
He says it’s perfect sense
You just can’t get agreement
In this present tense
We all talk a different language
Talking in defense

Say it loud (say it loud)
Say it clear (say it clear)

You can listen as well as you hear
It’s too late (It’s too late)
When we die (oh when we die)
To admit we don’t see eye to eye

So we open up a quarrel
Between the present and the past
We only sacrifice the future
It’s the bitterness that lasts

So don’t yield to the fortunes
You sometimes see as fate
It may have a new perspective
On a different day
And if you don’t give up and don’t give in
You may just be okay

Say it loud (say it loud)
Say it clear (say it clear)
You can listen as well as you hear
It’s too late (It’s too late)
When we die (oh when we die)
To admit we don’t see eye to eye

I wasn’t there that morning
When my father passed away
I didn’t get to tell him
All the things I had to say
I think I caught his spirit
Later that same year
I’m sure I heard his echo
In my baby’s newborn tears
I just wish I could have told him
In the living years

Say it loud (say it loud)
Say it clear (say it clear)
You can listen as well as you hear
It’s too late (It’s too late)
When we die (oh when we die)
To admit we don’t see eye to eye

Songwriters: B.A. Robertson / Mike Rutherford
The Living Years lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Concord Music Publishing LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

Here’s what Danny is listening to now: Drowning in a Tub Full of Tunes