CHESTER

As I read thru Alex Kershaw’s Jack London – a Life it occurs to me that two of London’s most popular and acclaimed stories were about dogs. I was also a strong fan of dog stories and was almost always reading a Jack O Brien story like Silver Chief Dog of the North or something by James Oliver Curwood . Then I reasoned why read about them? We had a dog that was every bit as colourful and interesting as any dog of story: Chester was a big, brawling Chesapeake Bay Retriever that was our beloved family dog for about 15 years. We got him as a pup from the McQuarrie family who lived on the North Shore of Nelson near Gordon and Ramona Burn’s summer house off what is now Johnstone Road.

Little did we know that this innocent puppy would bring a rollicking life of good times and high adventure that had to be lived to be believed? Even now, I still marvel at the memories.

Chester became a large curly fellow who lived life to the fullest no matter where we lived. Life with Chess was one of constant surprise. One of the first was the realization that he hated cats. He didn’t just chase them, he killed them. When we lived on Kootenay Street, the old street car barns were next door. Feral cats hung out there and they occasionally wandered through our backyard. Chess was in vigilante mode and attacked when a cat showed. One day a smallish cat showed up and Chess chased him up small maple. As the cat paused to gloat, he forgot his tail was hanging down. Chess jumped up and grabbed it. Game over.

Chester also felt obliged to fight any dog he considered a challenge, so we had some wild brawls.

Chess was serious about these fights and some lasted a long time. A neighbour across the lake (Barbara Lang) had a large boxer who also didn’t mind a scrap. They tangled near Gram’s flower bed until they were absolutely spent. Beau (a white dog) was pink with spilled blood. I think Chess got the worst of it. He usually won the first parts of brawls from surprise. H e would charge his opponent bowling them over then go to work but when dogs survived the first hit, Chess could be in for a battle. In the end of this one Beau had Chess by the throat and would not let go. But Beau was holding on to the loose fur of Chester’s ruff doing no harm. Dad finally took the hose to the boneheads before they ran off to lick their wounds.

Chess also liked to eat and required a lot of food. Not long after we had Chess, a new Safeway store opened in Fairview. To mark the occasion, they had a dog food eating contest. Tommy took Chess to the contest that was no contest. They opened the cans of meat above the bowels and were going to spoon out the content. Chester’s meat came out in a one piece blob the shape of the can. Before it landed in the bowel, Chess has snapped it out of the air and swallowed it. He won hands down. Tommy was so proud.

Chess at the beach with Tom and Ross and Rod McKay

Chesapeake’s are one of the best water dogs and Chester was true to form. He was always in or around the water whether there was someone to play with or not. He would fetch his own sticks and rocks and dive for bottles or cans from the boathouse. The dog was interested in everything to do with water. He would swim across the lake and follow us to school even if Mom locked him in the house for an hour or so. When we lived at Kootenay Street he often followed us to church On one occasion on a snowy day around Christmas we just settled our seats near the front of the church when there was a ruckus back by the door I felt a stab of panic. Could it be? He was not around when we left in a second or two there he was, Racing down the aisle. Covered with an inch of wet now. Deliriously happy to find his family. He climbed over everyone in the row shaking and wagging his tail as he passed and licking the faces of people he knew. When he reached us he would sit quietly and pretend to be listening to the sermon until the service ended, then he would charge outside and look for a dog to fight.

Another winter pastime was hockey. He would play with us all day and never seem to tire. On one occasion, he noticed a small flock of mallards keeping a patch of water open by swimming around and around so it would not freeze

Chess charged and launched himself after the ducks. He swam around chasing them for a long time. We thought he might freeze. But he climbed and shook like it was a summer day then resumed chasing the puck as he turned white with frost and his feet bled on the ice.

When I took him fishing he would sit by the rod tip waiting for a bite then launch himself into the water to grab the fish which was usually swimming to freedom by then, Chess would swim in circles looking for it for the longest time. I should have left him home but didn’t have the

Heart for it besides he would eventually show up anyway

Tommy left ad Chess at Safeway openingin t 195? when Chess won a dog food eating cpntest

Chess was a dog with low impulse control. He was also a glutton.

In the spring I would take him walking along the west part of the beach where there were salt licks. We would get spring water Gram liked for her tea then cut up to the orchard and circle back home. The snow was melting and we found a dead coyote by the spring. I had a quick look and carried on. The carcass was in a state of decomposition. Indeed. I was almost home when I noticed Chess wasn’t with me. I

circled back and sure enough he had devoured the coyote maggots and all!

In summers we often had supper on the porch and food would sometimes sit for awhile unattended. This was too much for Chess. He grabbed both a turkey and a ham and ran for cover. Both times dad hacked him pretty good with a hockey stick but it hardly fazed him. Food was never left to sit again.

Another revelation was his hatred of squirrels. They seemed to know and relish in taunting him. There was a giant fir beside our driveway and a little red squirrel would dash out on the trunk and scold Chester to the edge of madness. He never got within reach of Chester but came pretty close.

In 1958 it was off to California and a new set of adventures. First we lived in Sunnyvale where Chester indulged himself with neighbourhood females. A poodle next door was the first victim so Chess-a-poos added diversity to the local fauna. He could not be contained there either even by a high fence. I watched him leap it one time. He ran at it and leaped high getting his front feet a bit over it. Then he pulled himself up and over.

Next stop was Los Altos where there was a ravine with a seasonal creek and some large oak trees with squirrels! Large California Grey Squirrels who delighted in taunting Chester. They knew where he rested beside a sliding glass door looking over the back yard. The squirrels would sneak right up to the door and chatter at the dog that was usually not asleep. He was waiting for his chance.

One day I left the door open and Chess got his chance. The pair of squirrel’s had a last taunt then headed for the oaks. Chester roared like a Lion but could not do any damage. One squirrel ran out on a limb above Chess lifted his leg then pissed on the enraged dog. I have never seen an animal go as Crazy. The squirrel panicked and ran further out. Chess leaped onto the branch ran right behind the rodent and almost caught him. The squirrel jumped on to the nearby fence and kept going. Chess was hot on his tail. but could not quite connect. One last lunge and the dog fell off the two by four fence top landing on his tail and breaking it.

That was more or less the end of the adventure. He got in one more battle with a big chow. He ran right into the dog’s garage where a lady was hanging clothes on one those collapsible wooden holders. The lady and the rack got knocked over and the chow got roughed up but it was a good scrap and the chow did well. I guess that’s when I realized that Chess was not indestructible. We went back to Nelson after that and he took up his old place sleeping by the fridge with one eye opened in case someone tossed him a wiener. Or he would go for walks with us but he wasn’t quite up to it. He would get too far then cry out in pain. We had to pack him back to the ranch. By then he was a real heavy weight and no one could carry him safely. It wasn’t long then,

good bye old partner I hope you are by a good lake in squirrel country where they are not too quick. I think of you often and miss every moment we were together. Sometimes I look for your tracks on the beach. They are never there anymore.

CHESTER

As I read thru Alex Kershaw’s Jack London – a Life it occurs to me that two of London’s most popular and acclaimed stories were about dogs. I was also a strong fan of dog stories and was almost always reading a Jack O Brien story like Silver Chief Dog of the North or something by James Oliver Curwood . Then I reasoned why read about them? We had a dog that was every bit as colourful and interesting as any dog of story: Chester was a big, brawling Chesapeake Bay Retriever that was our beloved family dog for about 15 years. We got him as a pup from the McQuarrie family who lived on the North Shore of Nelson near Gordon and Ramona Burn’s summer house off what is now Johnstone Road.

Little did we know that this innocent puppy would bring a rollicking life of good times and high adventure that had to be lived to be believed? Even now, I still marvel at the memories.

Chester became a large curly fellow who lived life to the fullest no matter where we lived. Life with Chess was one of constant surprise. One of the first was the realization that he hated cats. He didn’t just chase them, he killed them. When we lived on Kootenay Street, the old street car barns were next door. Feral cats hung out there and they occasionally wandered through our backyard. Chess was in vigilante mode and attacked when a cat showed. One day a smallish cat showed up and Chess chased him up small maple. As the cat paused to gloat, he forgot his tail was hanging down. Chess jumped up and grabbed it. Game over.

Chester also felt obliged to fight any dog he considered a challenge, so we had some wild brawls.

Chess was serious about these fights and some lasted a long time. A neighbour across the lake (Barbara Lang) had a large boxer who also didn’t mind a scrap. They tangled near Gram’s flower bed until they were absolutely spent. Beau (a white dog) was pink with spilled blood. I think Chess got the worst of it. He usually won the first parts of brawls from surprise. H e would charge his opponent bowling them over then go to work but when dogs survived the first hit, Chess could be in for a battle. In the end of this one Beau had Chess by the throat and would not let go. But Beau was holding on to the loose fur of Chester’s ruff doing no harm. Dad finally took the hose to the boneheads before they ran off to lick their wounds.

Chess also liked to eat and required a lot of food. Not long after we had Chess, a new Safeway store opened in Fairview. To mark the occasion, they had a dog food eating contest. Tommy took Chess to the contest that was no contest. They opened the cans of meat above the bowels and were going to spoon out the content. Chester’s meat came out in a one piece blob the shape of the can. Before it landed in the bowel, Chess has snapped it out of the air and swallowed it. He won hands down. Tommy was so proud.

Chess at the beach with Tom and Ross and Rod McKay

Chesapeake’s are one of the best water dogs and Chester was true to form. He was always in or around the water whether there was someone to play with or not. He would fetch his own sticks and rocks and dive for bottles or cans from the boathouse. The dog was interested in everything to do with water. He would swim across the lake and follow us to school even if Mom locked him in the house for an hour or so. When we lived at Kootenay Street he often followed us to church On one occasion on a snowy day around Christmas we just settled our seats near the front of the church when there was a ruckus back by the door I felt a stab of panic. Could it be? He was not around when we left in a second or two there he was, Racing down the aisle. Covered with an inch of wet now. Deliriously happy to find his family. He climbed over everyone in the row shaking and wagging his tail as he passed and licking the faces of people he knew. When he reached us he would sit quietly and pretend to be listening to the sermon until the service ended, then he would charge outside and look for a dog to fight.

Another winter pastime was hockey. He would play with us all day and never seem to tire. On one occasion, he noticed a small flock of mallards keeping a patch of water open by swimming around and around so it would not freeze

Chess charged and launched himself after the ducks. He swam around chasing them for a long time. We thought he might freeze. But he climbed and shook like it was a summer day then resumed chasing the puck as he turned white with frost and his feet bled on the ice.

When I took him fishing he would sit by the rod tip waiting for a bite then launch himself into the water to grab the fish which was usually swimming to freedom by then, Chess would swim in circles looking for it for the longest time. I should have left him home but didn’t have the

Heart for it besides he would eventually show up anyway

Tommy left ad Chess at Safeway openingin t 195? when Chess won a dog food eating cpntest

Chess was a dog with low impulse control. He was also a glutton.

In the spring I would take him walking along the west part of the beach where there were salt licks. We would get spring water Gram liked for her tea then cut up to the orchard and circle back home. The snow was melting and we found a dead coyote by the spring. I had a quick look and carried on. The carcass was in a state of decomposition. Indeed. I was almost home when I noticed Chess wasn’t with me. I

circled back and sure enough he had devoured the coyote maggots and all!

In summers we often had supper on the porch and food would sometimes sit for awhile unattended. This was too much for Chess. He grabbed both a turkey and a ham and ran for cover. Both times dad hacked him pretty good with a hockey stick but it hardly fazed him. Food was never left to sit again.

Another revelation was his hatred of squirrels. They seemed to know and relish in taunting him. There was a giant fir beside our driveway and a little red squirrel would dash out on the trunk and scold Chester to the edge of madness. He never got within reach of Chester but came pretty close.

In 1958 it was off to California and a new set of adventures. First we lived in Sunnyvale where Chester indulged himself with neighbourhood females. A poodle next door was the first victim so Chess-a-poos added diversity to the local fauna. He could not be contained there either even by a high fence. I watched him leap it one time. He ran at it and leaped high getting his front feet a bit over it. Then he pulled himself up and over.

Next stop was Los Altos where there was a ravine with a seasonal creek and some large oak trees with squirrels! Large California Grey Squirrels who delighted in taunting Chester. They knew where he rested beside a sliding glass door looking over the back yard. The squirrels would sneak right up to the door and chatter at the dog that was usually not asleep. He was waiting for his chance.

One day I left the door open and Chess got his chance. The pair of squirrel’s had a last taunt then headed for the oaks. Chester roared like a Lion but could not do any damage. One squirrel ran out on a limb above Chess lifted his leg then pissed on the enraged dog. I have never seen an animal go as Crazy. The squirrel panicked and ran further out. Chess leaped onto the branch ran right behind the rodent and almost caught him. The squirrel jumped on to the nearby fence and kept going. Chess was hot on his tail. but could not quite connect. One last lunge and the dog fell off the two by four fence top landing on his tail and breaking it.

That was more or less the end of the adventure. He got in one more battle with a big chow. He ran right into the dog’s garage where a lady was hanging clothes on one those collapsible wooden holders. The lady and the rack got knocked over and the chow got roughed up but it was a good scrap and the chow did well. I guess that’s when I realized that Chess was not indestructible. We went back to Nelson after that and he took up his old place sleeping by the fridge with one eye opened in case someone tossed him a wiener. Or he would go for walks with us but he wasn’t quite up to it. He would get too far then cry out in pain. We had to pack him back to the ranch. By then he was a real heavy weight and no one could carry him safely. It wasn’t long then,

good bye old partner I hope you are by a good lake in squirrel country where they are not too quick. I think of you often and miss every moment we were together. Sometimes I look for your tracks on the beach. They are never there anymore.

CHESTER

As I read thru Alex Kershaw’s Jack London – a Life it occurs to me that two of London’s most popular and acclaimed stories were about dogs. I was also a strong fan of dog stories and was almost always reading a Jack O Brien story like Silver Chief Dog of the North or something by James Oliver Curwood . Then I reasoned why read about them? We had a dog that was every bit as colourful and interesting as any dog of story: Chester was a big, brawling Chesapeake Bay Retriever that was our beloved family dog for about 15 years. We got him as a pup from the McQuarrie family who lived on the North Shore of Nelson near Gordon and Ramona Burn’s summer house off what is now Johnstone Road.

Little did we know that this innocent puppy would bring a rollicking life of good times and high adventure that had to be lived to be believed? Even now, I still marvel at the memories.

Chester became a large curly fellow who lived life to the fullest no matter where we lived. Life with Chess was one of constant surprise. One of the first was the realization that he hated cats. He didn’t just chase them, he killed them. When we lived on Kootenay Street, the old street car barns were next door. Feral cats hung out there and they occasionally wandered through our backyard. Chess was in vigilante mode and attacked when a cat showed. One day a smallish cat showed up and Chess chased him up small maple. As the cat paused to gloat, he forgot his tail was hanging down. Chess jumped up and grabbed it. Game over.

Chester also felt obliged to fight any dog he considered a challenge, so we had some wild brawls.

Chess was serious about these fights and some lasted a long time. A neighbour across the lake (Barbara Lang) had a large boxer who also didn’t mind a scrap. They tangled near Gram’s flower bed until they were absolutely spent. Beau (a white dog) was pink with spilled blood. I think Chess got the worst of it. He usually won the first parts of brawls from surprise. H e would charge his opponent bowling them over then go to work but when dogs survived the first hit, Chess could be in for a battle. In the end of this one Beau had Chess by the throat and would not let go. But Beau was holding on to the loose fur of Chester’s ruff doing no harm. Dad finally took the hose to the boneheads before they ran off to lick their wounds.

Chess also liked to eat and required a lot of food. Not long after we had Chess, a new Safeway store opened in Fairview. To mark the occasion, they had a dog food eating contest. Tommy took Chess to the contest that was no contest. They opened the cans of meat above the bowels and were going to spoon out the content. Chester’s meat came out in a one piece blob the shape of the can. Before it landed in the bowel, Chess has snapped it out of the air and swallowed it. He won hands down. Tommy was so proud.

Chess at the beach with Tom and Ross and Rod McKay

Chesapeake’s are one of the best water dogs and Chester was true to form. He was always in or around the water whether there was someone to play with or not. He would fetch his own sticks and rocks and dive for bottles or cans from the boathouse. The dog was interested in everything to do with water. He would swim across the lake and follow us to school even if Mom locked him in the house for an hour or so. When we lived at Kootenay Street he often followed us to church On one occasion on a snowy day around Christmas we just settled our seats near the front of the church when there was a ruckus back by the door I felt a stab of panic. Could it be? He was not around when we left in a second or two there he was, Racing down the aisle. Covered with an inch of wet now. Deliriously happy to find his family. He climbed over everyone in the row shaking and wagging his tail as he passed and licking the faces of people he knew. When he reached us he would sit quietly and pretend to be listening to the sermon until the service ended, then he would charge outside and look for a dog to fight.

Another winter pastime was hockey. He would play with us all day and never seem to tire. On one occasion, he noticed a small flock of mallards keeping a patch of water open by swimming around and around so it would not freeze

Chess charged and launched himself after the ducks. He swam around chasing them for a long time. We thought he might freeze. But he climbed and shook like it was a summer day then resumed chasing the puck as he turned white with frost and his feet bled on the ice.

When I took him fishing he would sit by the rod tip waiting for a bite then launch himself into the water to grab the fish which was usually swimming to freedom by then, Chess would swim in circles looking for it for the longest time. I should have left him home but didn’t have the

Heart for it besides he would eventually show up anyway

Tommy left ad Chess at Safeway openingin t 195? when Chess won a dog food eating cpntest

Chess was a dog with low impulse control. He was also a glutton.

In the spring I would take him walking along the west part of the beach where there were salt licks. We would get spring water Gram liked for her tea then cut up to the orchard and circle back home. The snow was melting and we found a dead coyote by the spring. I had a quick look and carried on. The carcass was in a state of decomposition. Indeed. I was almost home when I noticed Chess wasn’t with me. I

circled back and sure enough he had devoured the coyote maggots and all!

In summers we often had supper on the porch and food would sometimes sit for awhile unattended. This was too much for Chess. He grabbed both a turkey and a ham and ran for cover. Both times dad hacked him pretty good with a hockey stick but it hardly fazed him. Food was never left to sit again.

Another revelation was his hatred of squirrels. They seemed to know and relish in taunting him. There was a giant fir beside our driveway and a little red squirrel would dash out on the trunk and scold Chester to the edge of madness. He never got within reach of Chester but came pretty close.

In 1958 it was off to California and a new set of adventures. First we lived in Sunnyvale where Chester indulged himself with neighbourhood females. A poodle next door was the first victim so Chess-a-poos added diversity to the local fauna. He could not be contained there either even by a high fence. I watched him leap it one time. He ran at it and leaped high getting his front feet a bit over it. Then he pulled himself up and over.

Next stop was Los Altos where there was a ravine with a seasonal creek and some large oak trees with squirrels! Large California Grey Squirrels who delighted in taunting Chester. They knew where he rested beside a sliding glass door looking over the back yard. The squirrels would sneak right up to the door and chatter at the dog that was usually not asleep. He was waiting for his chance.

One day I left the door open and Chess got his chance. The pair of squirrel’s had a last taunt then headed for the oaks. Chester roared like a Lion but could not do any damage. One squirrel ran out on a limb above Chess lifted his leg then pissed on the enraged dog. I have never seen an animal go as Crazy. The squirrel panicked and ran further out. Chess leaped onto the branch ran right behind the rodent and almost caught him. The squirrel jumped on to the nearby fence and kept going. Chess was hot on his tail. but could not quite connect. One last lunge and the dog fell off the two by four fence top landing on his tail and breaking it.

That was more or less the end of the adventure. He got in one more battle with a big chow. He ran right into the dog’s garage where a lady was hanging clothes on one those collapsible wooden holders. The lady and the rack got knocked over and the chow got roughed up but it was a good scrap and the chow did well. I guess that’s when I realized that Chess was not indestructible. We went back to Nelson after that and he took up his old place sleeping by the fridge with one eye opened in case someone tossed him a wiener. Or he would go for walks with us but he wasn’t quite up to it. He would get too far then cry out in pain. We had to pack him back to the ranch. By then he was a real heavy weight and no one could carry him safely. It wasn’t long then,

good bye old partner I hope you are by a good lake in squirrel country where they are not too quick. I think of you often and miss every moment we were together. Sometimes I look for your tracks on the beach. They are never there anymore.

 

TOM BURNS – ONE TOUGH H0MBRE

Tom was born in the old Victorian hospital in Kaslo on December 27, 1949. The late 1940’s featured some very hard winters and 1949 was one. Rough enough to freeze both Okanagan and Kootenay Lakes. We no longer see such winters in BC .The last one was 53 years ago. We lived in Ainsworth the winter Tom was born. I think it was spring before he came home. Mom, Betty Olsen and I went to get him. He was very premature two pounds and change. The nuns kept him in a chick incubator until he was healthy enough to come home. I remember Mom and Betty laying him out on the dining room table and fawning over him. He was so small and we all realized it was a miracle he was here. His doctor told mother not to have high hopes for Tommy. Aside from surviving birth and early development he was born with cerebral palsy. CP is a group of disorders that affect movement muscle tone and balance. There is no cure The old Victorian Hospital in Kaslo.

After Ainsworth, we moved to Hillsdale, California for awhile when Nid was still very young. I don’t remember much except that the apartments covered a huge area and that one of the first malls was built. nearby

Tom, Mom and Kath at Hilllsdale.

We went back to Nelson in the early 1950’s where Tom thrived. He, Kath and I went to St. Joseph’s school. Tom and I would sometimes cut class to go on walkabouts. A favourite target was Hood’s bakery near the bottom end of Kootenay Street. We hiked down from Latimer by taking the trail from Cottonwood Canyon, past the Hatchery , then up to Kootenay Street where we carried on to Hoods. There were dozens of fresh loaves arranged on drying racks near the street. Tom and I would hollow out a couple of ends and fill them with peanut butter and strawberry jam. We then headed down to the hobo jungle at the mouth of Cottonwood Creek where we devoured the bounty with the help of the bums. The hobos told us wild tales of riding the rails all across North America where they were hard pressed to dodge the railroad cops. They said the bulls were quite dangerous and one guy relayed how he was dispatched one winter night on the frozen prairie where he was clubbed then tossed out to skid on his face until he skidded to a stop minus some skin.

After a great stint in Ainsworth, we moved to Hillsdale, CA. It was an ugly place and Tommy was very young. I doubt if h ever remembered very much.

California developers built a huge mall nearby that turned into a demolition derby. People were not used to parking in close quarters. They opened their car doors into the sides of adjacent vehicles until they got used to the new style of parking.

We were soon on the road again. This time it was the Nelson shuttle. We lived at 1002 Kootenay Street a small non-descript house that still stands. Dad and Grandpa added a bedroom for Nid (my nickname for Tom) and I. and the house survived the big highway upheaval of the 1970’s that took out some really fine places but our little hovel still sits there looking exactly like it did in the 1950’s

Our travels were not over. The parents announced that we were headed to California again. Dad was starting a lighting company where the streets were paved with gold. I was disappointed to leave but Mom was ecstatic and started singing California Here I Come before we left Nelson. We got a motel in Spokane and mother got herself several quarts of Lucky Lager beer to celebrate. We settled in a San Diego suburb called Pacific Beach, which was a great spot. We lived in a small apartment above a lovely California beach that stretched for miles.

Tom, Kath, Sue and I went down to the beach at first light to watch old men with metal detectors search the beach for watches, rings and coins. They found a surprising amount. Sometimes we would go down to Belmont Park for the rides. Other times we would go out on the pier to hang out or fish. We caught small fish, croakers and shiner perch. Once I hooked a small halibut and another time we saw a large manta ray leap free and fall back into the gleaming sea. Pacific Beach was a great place.

Our stint in Paradise was soon over however. We trekked north to the Bay Area and Sunnyvale. It was then a small agricultural community but just edging into the high tech era which would increase the population from about 5000 to 150,000 in a few years. It went from fields and orchards to malls, subdivisions and car dealerships seemingly overnight. It shocked me to see such a productive valley just flushed away without protest. It was hard to believe. In those days, Californians thought land use planning was a communist conspiracy or worse so the demise of the Santa Clara Valley was not a surprise.

Tom hardly noticed. He was busy playing Little League baseball, Pop Warner football or whatever was going on the streets. He was just a happy go lucky boy, glad to be playing sports and laughing all the way.

After a couple of years, we moved a few miles west to Los Altos a beautiful town at the edge of the Santa Cruz Mountains. Tom and Sue went to Homestead Elementary School while Kath was at Fremont High and I was at Foothill College. We had a big house with oak trees and Stevens Creek in the backyard.

Dad had a swimming pool installed. Tom dove in right away and hardly left as long as the sun was shining. He became quite the physical specimen adding lots of muscle and co-ordination.

He continued his love of sport, Dad often took him up to The City to watch professional teams. Dad was a football fan so they saw the 49ers which featured Y A Tittle and fans that would rain down whiskey bottles if things were not going well. It was dangerous to sit in the Lower Rows at Kezar. The Giants had good teams in those days with the great sluggers Willie Mc Covey and Orlando Cepeda. We often went up to the Cow Place to watch the Seals of the old Western Hockey League play the Vancouver Canucks or Seattle Totems. There were some great Players in the old WHL. Which was very close to the NHL The great Guyle Fielder played for Seattle. Phil Maloney led the Canucks and the Seals had Orland Kurtenbach, Moe Mantha and Eddie Panagabco. Tom would go down to the players’ bench before the games to get autographs. He listened to all the games he didn’t get to on the radio including those of the San Francisco Warriors where Wilt Chamberlin played.

In Los Altos, we were introduced to pool parties where neighbourhood and church groups would have backyard gatherings with food and a keg of beer.

The parties would flame out in the early evening and the half full kegs would sit outside for awhile. Tom and his rascal friends would find out where the parties were and dispose of the contents of the keg in a secluded area. No one ever caught the boys so they went about their business. Aside from the pool, we often swam in Stevens Creek reservoir which had a spill way that would flow in the spring months when it picked up a coating of filamentous green algae which was very slippery so we slid down the spillway to land in a big pool at the bottom.

In about 1965, the California Dream was over and it was back to Nelson for Tom and Sue. Kath went on to Gonzaga in Spokane while I hustled up to Humboldt State University in the redwoods of Northern California. Tom readapted to life in Nelson and was glad to see his old friends like Ross and Roddy McKay, Dale Jefferies and Dick Murphy. They moved into the old house at Burns Point which was about 100 years old. It was a summer home and not insulated so it as hard to heat in winter. Dad built a new house in 1967. Sister Sue still lives in it. People were starting to live across the lake now that a bridge had replaced the Nelson Ferry and a road had come down almost to the house. The McKays built a house nearby and many street hockey games were played near the end of the road. The Clum boys usually joined in and some real lively games resulted. Summers were consumed by swimming and water skiing at the beach or up at Jorgie’s where there was a store and small marina. Such luminaries as Blake Allen and Steve Ward were also part of Jorgies gang. Tom and the boys also built small forts and cabins in the bush and stocked them with essentials like chips and comics. There were many hikes up to Pulpit Rock and down to Grohman Creek.

Tom was now in high school and enjoyed playing on the` LV Rogers basketball team : The Bombers. He no longer had the option of watching big league sports like the Bay Area teams but we had some great hockey teams nearby in the Western International League. Tom and I watched countless games between the Trail Smoke Eaters, Kimberley Dynamiters and our Nelson Maple Leafs.

When Tom finished at LVR, he Ross and Rod McKay and Jack Carpenter worked for CPR in the East Kootenay. `Big time coal mining was starting up so the boys had lot of work and adventure.

After the CPR days, Tom went to Mt. Royal College in Calgary where he did remarkably well for a boy ‘not to have high hope for’. Then a rougher road came up. Tom transferred to UBC where they would not accept many of his Mt. Royal courses and credits. Tom was completely unprepared for this and was devastated. He had some good friends in Vancouver so he partied for awhile then managed to graduate as a teacher.

He taught in Burns Lake, Fort St John, Bella Bella and in the Fraser Valley and Kootenays. He started teaching in Asia in the 90’s and had stints in China, Japan and Korea where he would travel when he did not teach. He was especially fond of Thailand and knew its beaches well. When he stayed with me in Lake Cowichan, he was known as Thailand Tom. He returned to Nelson n the early  2000’s and eventually booked into mountain lakes care home. His CP was now complicated by Parkinson’s and the after effects of a hip replacement. He tried his best to cope but his body was not up to it. In June of 2021 he made his final trip.

 

 

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