Chapter 4: First Grade Treasures

— Chapters appear as excerpts only. —

— Full chapters will appear in the printed published book. —

A few weeks later, my mom arrived back home. For now, anyway. I didn’t think too much of it at the time. I was too young.

In September 1956, when I was turning six, Eagle River had hardly evolved, and was even becoming depressed, especially compared to other villages and towns that were close to big cities like Toronto or Winnipeg. Canada was, and is, such a vast country, and we very much lived in the vastness.

Eagle River existed to serve and restock coal and water for the steam locomotives, and they were being phased out in the 1950s and 1960s, replaced by diesel locomotives that didn’t need to stop in our community. So the writing was on the wall.

Our isolation made a difference in the progress of modernization and civilization, or lack thereof. Even the cheapest and most basic homes already had indoor plumbing and oil-fired furnaces, but not us in Eagle River. And you didn’t miss what you didn’t know.

Not that I thought much about that either, it didn’t phase me in the least.

I was about to begin an exciting new chapter in my life — this Freak was going to school!  

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During Christmas that year, a party was held at the Eagle River Community Centre, which was across the river near the powerplant. The decorated Christmas tree loomed tall and large above me. Everyone sang Christmas carols, we played tag games with our friends, and later each child’s name was called to come forward to get a brown paper bag. Inside were a mandarin orange, some candy pieces, and one toy. My toy was a wee little plastic baby in a tiny baby carriage. I treasured that little toy for a long time. The magic of that evening and the gift I received lingered for a few days after that. It gave me tremendous pleasure and joy every time I played with that toy, I rarely let it out of my sight.

Local entrepreneur Jake Korzinski came up with something new and exciting for our little village. He opened a movie theatre. It was just a small building behind his store. The seats were plastic chairs and the screen was very small. Jake was also the projectionist. When movies were shown, he had to stop for an intermission to change the movie reels. I saw two movies in the summer of 1957. My first movie ever was The Creature From the Black Lagoon. I was totally captivated with this man-like creature that came out of the deep waters and scared everyone. I knew it was not real but I liked the suspense and scariness it brought upon me. The second movie was about a young girl around my age trying to save her lambs from a flood. One of the lambs died. I was overcome with compassion and sadness, I cried on the way home and even later when sitting in our living room.

My mother told me that I wasn’t allowed to go to any more movies because I cried too much. Both movies tugged at my emotions and made an everlasting impression on me at the time, so much so that I remember scenes from them even today. It is remarkable how emotions can have such a significant impact on a child forever.

I begged and pleaded to go to the next movie, but my mother was firm on her decision. I had to stay home. I stood at the end of the driveway as I watched my brothers trotting off to go the next movie without me. I didn’t think that was fair. These movies scared me and made me cry, but I didn’t mind that. Even at that age, I was able to separate reality from fiction. I knew these movies were not real, but I wanted to pretend they were, just to experience these different feelings.

Little did I know that while I was enjoying my insular childhood, all around me the fabric of my family was unravelling.

During the summer of 1957, my parents sold our house, packed up our belongings, and we were moving hundreds of miles across Canada, to Tadanac, British Columbia.

Perhaps my parents had a sense of the impending changes that were impacting the railway and our small village. The workforce was changing. As the steam locomotives were retired, the coal, water and station facilities were allowed to lapse into disrepair. In spite of that, there was still a need for men to lay ties and keep the railway lines functional.

My father had applied for a job transfer and it had been approved. It meant a slight raise in wages for him, but I believe there was another, more important, reason — we were moving halfway across Canada to save my parents’ marriage.

This would take my mother away from Cliff and her infidelity, and take my father away from the Cascade Hotel and his boozing lifestyle.

The train ride across Canada would take several days, though I wouldn’t remember much of it at all. My grandma Freak was now a widow and her only grandchildren were leaving to go so far away. It must have been a very sad day for her when we left. I wonder if she was aware that she would never see us again.

And so, thus was beginning another chapter of my life, very different in so many ways compared to my first seven years. We were moving to a community that bordered on the large city of Trail. We would have a television with a variety of programs beamed in from a relaying station in Spokane, Washington. For the first time, we would have an indoor bathroom with a ceramic bathtub, an indoor flush toilet, and taps with hot and cold running water. It was as if we were jumping into a time travel machine and moving ahead a few decades, from the ancient to the modern world, full of amenities and opportunities.

In Eagle River, we were assimilated into a society much like our own. We fit in with all the other country folk. We had more money than some, and less money than others, but I always felt we were just like everyone else, as far as I could tell. We all wore tattered clothes and lived in houses that were not much more than just a roof over our heads.

Now we were about to get a glimpse of middle-class Canada and a more urban lifestyle. In a very subtle way, I would soon become aware of class differences in society, and where I fit in within those strata.

The Freaks were moving to the city.