Originally published November 25, 2021

It has been a wild and wet two weeks – here on the Left Coast.

I have never seen a rainstorm in Canada that left so much damage as the two-day storm that hit British Columbia and Washington State.

Recently, I have been going to many medical appointments for tests.

My last one is scheduled for December 3rd, at the cancer center in Surrey.

Hopefully, everything will turn out fine – but I am not dwelling on it.

I awake each day, thanking my lucky stars for still being alive.

Worrying brings stress, fear, and anxiety – none of which help to make you healthy again.

I have had several story ideas, but a few days ago, while sorting through boxes in my storage locker, I found an old cardboard box containing several large envelopes and file folders.

Now, I know that girls had a hope chest to put stuff away for when they got older, married, or whatever.

But boys only had their imaginations and dreams.

So, I wasn’t expecting to find a treasure trove of my things from my younger years!

I do not remember seeing this box before or any of its contents.

Here are some of the things I found:

Vaccination Certificate

The vaccination was administered eight days after my first birthday.

I remember everyone had a scar on their arm from the vaccination, but it disappeared years later.

I also remember getting other vaccines in the auditorium at North Simcoe School, standing in a lineup, waiting nervously for my needle.

However, at the time, it suddenly dawned on me that no one was crying when they got their needle, so maybe it would not hurt.

All I felt was a brief sting, then nothing.

I was very proud of myself.

School Report Cards

My elementary school was on Simcoe Street north.

The school’s name was changed when I was in grade four or five, to Dr. SJ Pillips.

We always walked to school, except when the weather was terrible – my friend Doug Bidgood’s mom would drive us.

I remember I wasn’t a very attentive student, often daydreaming in class.

It was probably because of ADD (attention deficit disorder), because it still affects me today.

I find it very difficult to read anymore because I cannot remain focused.

Instead, I now listen to audiobooks – and often play one while driving on the highway.

Also in the cardboard box was a treasure of report cards from Kindergarten to Grade 8!

My mom had saved them for me.

And I just found them after almost sixty years!

I remembered most of the signatures and even what some of my former classmates used to look like, but I was curious if any of them were on Facebook.

However, after checking three or four names, I gave up trying.

The signatures are Janet Jarvie, Bob Logeman, Mary Rupert, Linda Fulton, Rickey Craig, Alice Thompson, Dawn Wilson, Bob Barron, Ron Gibson, Dave Warner, Gail Tresise, Kathy Barber, Terry Thompson, and Doug Smith. However, there are two names I can’t decipher.

Please let me know if you know any of them and/or what became of them—hopefully, they are all still alive.

Other stuff from school

********

High School Grade Nine Classmates (1963)

Although I do not have any report cards to show, I did find a few photos:

I still remember some of my classmates’ names, including Peter and Paul Hollingsworth, identical twins.

I am pictured in the middle of the third row.

In those days, jeans were prohibited, and girls had to wear dresses or skirts.

All the boys wore shirts and ties for the annual school pictures.

The photographer would come to our school and take our pictures.

Then, he would send us a sample package of our photos:

I also have an ACTI LUDI yearbook from my graduating year.

Here is what I wrote:

My high school was three blocks from where we lived.

********

8th Oshawa Sea Scouts

We called our scoutmaster ‘Skip,’ and Don Thompson, our skipper, positively influenced my friends and me.

I told a lie to get into Sea Scouts – I was only ten years old when I joined – but you were supposed to be eleven years old.

But my birthday was only seven weeks away, so I did not think it was a bad lie.

********

From an early age, my parents forced my sisters, Freddy, and me to take swimming lessons at Camp Samac each summer.

So, while most of my friends were playing sports each day, I was at the pool for lessons in the morning, and then we would stay for the afternoon swim.

Mom would pack each of us lunch and give us a dime for a bottle of Coca-Cola.

Ultimately, I got my Bronze Medallion certification, qualifying me as a lifeguard. I was 14 at the time.

I was a lifeguard for one summer at Geneva Park, on Ritson Road North, in Oshawa.

Lifeguarding is a great summer job for meeting girls and getting a great suntan.

I also found other neat stuff I had forgotten about.

My dear Ma saved everything from our childhoods, probably thinking we would enjoy seeing it when we grew up.

I am almost 75 years old and feel like a kid in a candy store, with ten dollars in quarters, dimes, and nickels in my pocket!

It is weird how the heart and mind remember stuff from the ’50s and ’60s.

I still have more stuff to check, especially an extensive collection of photos and even a few videotapes my dad had taken over the years with his trusty 8mm camera.

UPDATE:

I paid a chap to convert my dad’s videos to a digital format and combined them into this YouTube video.

There is no sound other than the annoying elevator music in the background, and it runs for over an hour and a half.

In closing,

Do you still have any of your stuff from back then?

Let me know if you have any pictures of you and me from that era, okay?

Earlier that day, I visited my parents’ gravesite at the cemetery on Thornton Road.

I miss and think about them every single day.

Dedicated to my Dear Mom & Dad

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

Hugs,

Danny

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

The lightning express from the depot so grand
Had started out on its way
All of the passengers that were on board
Seemed to be happy and gay

But one little boy who sat by himself
Was reading a letter he had
You could plainly tell by the look on his face
That the contents of it made him sad

The stern old conductor then started his round
Taking tickets from everyone there
And finally reaching the sad little boy
He gruffly demanded his fare

‘I have no ticket,’ the boy then replied:
‘But I’ll pay you back someday.’
‘Then I’ll put you off at the next stop we make.’
But he stopped when he heard the boy say:

‘Please, Mr. Conductor
Don’t put me off of this train
The best friend I have in this world, sir
Is waiting for me in pain

‘Expecting to die any moment, sir
And may not live through the day
I wanna reach home and kiss mother goodbye
Before God takes her away.’

A girl sitting near was heard to exclaim:
‘If you put him off, it’s a shame.’
Taking his hand, a collection she made
The boy’s way was paid on the train.

‘I’m obliged to you, miss, for your kindness to me.’
‘You’re welcome,’ she said, ‘Never fear.’
Each time the conductor would pass through the car
The boy’s words would ring in his ear:

‘Please, Mr. Conductor
Don’t put me off of this train
The best friend I have in this world, sir
Is waiting for me in pain.’

‘Expecting to die any moment, sir
And may not live through the day
I wanna reach home and kiss mother goodbye
Before God takes her away.’

Songwriters: Bradley Kincaid