Norm and Alex, the stars they were

Sheriff (Brian Keith) challenges Russian sub with help of Russian sailor (Alan Arkin) in “The Russians Are Coming.”

It’s the early 1960s. The Cuban missile crisis is still fresh in people’s minds. The Cold War is at its peak. A Soviet submarine has run aground on the New England coast. Locals in the closest town think it’s the start of a Soviet invasion of America. The panicking townsfolk – armed to the teeth with shotguns – are lined up on the dock facing an armed Soviet sub.

And the local sheriff stands between the two sides about to open fire. He pulls out his parking ticket pad, looks up at the sub commander and through a Russian sailor translating, says, “All right, let’s have your full name and address.”

The sub commander orders his deck gunners to prepare to fire. (more…)

Planning to keep my boots on

Alex Barris in 1950s reporting for the Globe and Mail.

I remember the day I learned what I would do the rest of my life. I received a message from a historical society in the U.S. It described an overseas tour planned for that fall of 2017. Participants would fly to Europe and retrace the wartime steps of Gen. George Patton’s 94th Infantry Division – to halt the Nazi breakout toward Antwerp – a.k.a. the Battle of the Bulge.

That’s where my father served as a medic in the U.S. Army. I needed to experience that tour. But that meant I’d have to quit my position as a journalism professor at Centennial College in Toronto.

“You’ll have to speak to our retirement specialist,” the dean of Centennial’s communication school told me.

I met the specialist in his office a few days later.

“So…” he enthused, “are you ready for retirement?”

“You don’t know anything about me,” I said. “I’m not retiring. I’m just going back to where I came from.” (more…)

The balloon menace

Anita Anand, minister of national defence, addresses 204th Toronto Garrison Officers’ Ball on Feb. 11, 2023.

The evening was all about military pomp and circumstance. Hundreds of Canadian Armed Services personnel had gathered last Saturday night at the Beanfield Centre on the CNE grounds for Toronto’s premier social event in the military community. I actually landed a ticket and was seated at a table of Navy regulars and reservists. The 204th edition of the Garrison Officers’ Ball was well underway, when the Minister of National Defence arrived in time to address guests at the ball.

“I have important news to share with you,” Anita Anand said. “Today at 3:41 p.m. aircraft assigned to NORAD successfully took down (a) high-altitude airborne object. The object, flying at an altitude of 40,000 feet, had unlawfully entered Canadian air space and posed a reasonable threat to the safety of civilian flight.” (more…)

The nurse I want attending

A neighbour and registered nurse, Claudia Dee, served the public system above and beyond. (wedding photo in Agincourt News 1964)

It seemed a wonderful coincidence. But it really wasn’t. Back in 1964, my father, Alex Barris, was admitted to Scarborough General Hospital for surgery to remove kidney stones. Then, for several days he remained in hospital recuperating.

One of the nurses attending him turned out to be a neighbour. Registered nurse Claudia Dee, whose family lived up the street from us in Agincourt, seemed assigned to attend Dad’s needs 24/7 – making sure that his pain was under control, that he got meals on time and that he got home as soon as possible.

“She was like a guardian angel,” I remember Dad saying. (more…)

For want of a Saturday donut

Saturday shoppers lined up for a first taste of Little Thief baked goods.

Grand openings haven’t happened much during the past few years around here. The pandemic has made certain of that. So, when we learned that the former Bredin’s Bakery location would reopen last Saturday morning at 10, as the new donut specialty shop – Little Thief Bakery Co. – scores of us lined up outside to buy our weekend supply of fresh bread and pastry.

When I arrived about 9:45, there were probably 50 or 60 people ahead of me. For most of the next hour those of us in line saw happy customers departing the store with their bags and boxes of goodies.

“Did you leave us anything?” we kept asking. (more…)

The Order of things

Charley Fox and I enjoying each other’s company at a regimental dinner in 2006.

The man told me my future. It happened back in the 1980s. But back then, Charley Fox, my oldest and dearest veteran friend, looked me straight in the eye and told me what I ought to be doing with the rest of my life.

“It’s your job to tell our stories,” he said. And each time we’d meet – usually every month or so at the Husky truck stop on Hwy 401 just east of London, Ont. – Charley would remind me with a “to-do list,” exactly how I was to research famous battles, conduct first-hand interviews and then write and publish the eye-witness stories of Canadian veterans’ experiences. Forty years and a dozen published books later, I realize Charley was right. History storytelling has become the centre of my life. (more…)

Home is where the work is

Alex Barris – my father and mentor – had a sign over his desk to inspire him to write.

The sign always hung in my father’s office, right over the spot where he worked. That happened to be just above his typewriter (in a time before computers) where Dad pumped out many millions of words in a life-long writing career. But Dad had installed this sign over his work space for those days at his office in the basement of our house when maybe the spirit to actually put fingers on keys occasionally eluded him or when he periodically felt unmotivated.

“There’s only one way to become a writer,” the sign read, “by applying the seat of the pants to the seat of the chair.”

My father, Alex Barris, wrote probably a thousand radio, television and movie scripts, hundreds of columns for newspapers and periodicals, scores of screenplays and at least half a dozen books at that typewriter in his basement office. And I frankly doubt that he ever needed encouragement, coaxing or cajoling to put the seat of his pants on the seat of his chair. (more…)

Tony Mellaci – first responder for two generations

Sergeant medic Tony Mellaci overseas 1945.

He saved my father. Then, he saved me. In fact, he saved both of us multiple times. The first instance occurred 80 years ago this December. Just before Christmas of 1942, both Tony Mellaci and my father, Alex Barris, arrived at Camp Phillips – a U.S. Army training facility in Kansas. The army had posted them there to train as medics in the U.S. Army Medical Corps. Then, something happened Christmas Eve.

“They told me to go to the headquarters barracks and pick up a soldier who was sick, and deliver him to the hospital. So, I and another ambulance driver picked up your father (although I didn’t know him at the time) and we took him to the hospital,” Mellaci told me. “But we never saw the sick soldier. We stayed in the cab while other medics loaded him into the ambulance.” (more…)

So, you want to write a book

Alex Barris – my father and mentor – had a sign over his desk to inspire him to write.

My dental hygienist has her eye on a second career. The other day, after I’d passed the temperature test and questionnaire at the dental office, one of his hygienists, Vivian, got to work cleaning my teeth. Naturally, with my mouth wide open and instruments inside, she had me as a captive audience. So, she told me about wonderfully uninhibited things her children say. For example, one time her toddler son searched for the word to describe his elderly grandfather’s face.

“It’s crumply,” he said.

“He probably meant ‘wrinkly,’” Vivian said with a chuckle. Then, she added, “I think I’ll write a book about the darnedest things kids say. Maybe you can help me get it published.”

I mumbled an “Uh-huh,” through the gauze and dental instruments in my mouth. (more…)

Visits are my vaccine

“Lest We Forget” banner for Alex Barris on Uxbridge lamp post.

She seemed kind of nervous. It was Remembrance Day week. She stood at the base of a lamp post on our main street. A “Lest We Forget” banner above her acknowledged the Second World War service of her great-grandfather. There was a camera pointed at her and the editor of this newspaper making notes and taking photos. Then, she got the go-ahead to tell the story.

“My name is Layne and above me is a picture of my great-grandfather, Alex Barris,” she said into the camera. She was more relaxed now because it was a story she and I have shared a number of times.

“He was born in 1922. In 1942, he was called up by the U.S. Army. They made him a medic. And in the Battle of the Bulge he saved four members of his medical team. He received the Bronze Star.” (more…)