October 11, 2020 . . .

Last time I wrote about my life in the 1940’s, so I think I should tell you about me in the 1950’s. In 1950, I was twelve years old, not quite a teenager, but starting to think like one. About then, my mother had a spare room, so she took in a boarder – a single Mom with a daughter. The daughter was also 12 years old. That was among the early times that I ventured into electronics. I rigged a pair of doorbell buzzers and pushbuttons between my room and hers and proceeded to teach her Morse code so we could communicate back and forth.
Time passed and before I knew it, I was in High School – still a child but on my way to becoming a man. I still remember Grade Nine and my first dance. Like most boys, at least at that time, I did not know how to dance. Not to worry, I soon learned how. About two weeks before the day of the dance, a group of Senior girls taught us how. I remember how shy I was – I mean, holding a real live girl!
I went to Patterson CI. In Grade 10, I volunteered for the local Army Cadet Corps and started as a Private. The summer that I was sixteen years old, I went to camp Iperwash for the princely sum of 100 dollars. The following year, I was a cadet WO2 in the big parade.
I was OK in school and up to Grade 12 my marks were great. Then one night I went to a dance, and discovered girls! Next year, my marks plummeted in Grade 13. That was the year I turned seventeen. It was also the year that my Dad died. (That was why, I think, that my marks were just high enough for me to squeak through Grade 13, courtesy my teachers.)
I began tuba lessons, and nothing would do but my music teacher, took me out to the St Luke Road Barracks, and talked me into the RCEME Army Reserves. I think that he did all the talking. The immediate benefit was that I took home an Army horn, a superb Boosey and Hawk E-Flat Tuba! I became a decent player and I think that I marched in every marching band in Windsor, playing the Tuba. (I don’t think that I ever played in the Windsor Regiment band.)
I went to Teachers College in Toronto, the summer that I graduated from Grade 13. I got a job, teaching at Sandwich East Public School, but got laid off at Christmas, because the Township ran out of money.
I still remember my first car – a 1950 boat tail Pontiac, 4 doors. When I was out of work, I took the back seat out to make more room for the baskets. I then sold dried manure for 2 dollars a bushel, to make some money! Needless to say, my girlfriend was not impressed with my new enterprise.
That was me in the 1950’s.
Please be careful . . .
Stay safe, stay well, remember your mask, stay physically distance, wash your hands frequently, get some fresh air if you can, and keep smiling . . .
‘til we meet again . . .