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…)

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…)

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…)

Beyond the stitches

Romeo Daley, a Korean War vet, and I met during a talk in Fort Erie, Ont.

He entered the hall a few minutes before the historical society began its monthly meeting. With a service dog at his side, he made his way to the last row of chairs and quietly sat down. His chocolate Lab settled beside him, and the meeting began. The chair of the society welcomed everybody, in particular the first-time attendees.

“Welcome to all our regular members,” she said, “and to those here for the first time too.”

I could see that being centred out that way made the man in the back row a bit uncomfortable. But friendly smiles were exchanged between the society chair and the new faces and the atmosphere became relaxed. (more…)

Wounds a dressing can’t heal

Al Theobald was raised in a home in Borg, Germany, used in 1945 as a first-aid station for U.S. medics.

We walked in single-file behind our guide. The street in Nennig, Germany, opened into a market square as the young man leading our tour painted a wartime picture of this town 72 years ago. He pointed to the homes tucked neatly around the intersection. Then, he said because of the battle being waged between German and U.S. forces here during the Second World War, that civilians had been evacuated.

“Well, that’s not entirely true,” a quiet voice said behind me. I turned and a man I didn’t know, but who was travelling on the same tour, added, “Some of the civilians refused to leave.” (more…)

Adding a chapter

Alex Barris’s ID card when he was 21 years old and at war.

On my last day of classes in 1964, with nothing left to teach us, my Grade 9 phys-ed instructor just gave us a bat and a ball and told us to go play some baseball work-ups. I loved playing shortstop, the position my dad liked most too. Not long into the game, however, the catcher and I chased the same infield fly and we collided head-on. I broke my nose, lost some front teeth and was knocked out cold. I spent several weeks recuperating at home in bed. My father happened to be writing in his office at the house, so he spent time trying to distract me from my pain by telling me stories. It wasn’t long before I popped the big one.

“Hey Dad, what did you do in the war?” I asked. (more…)

A unique calling

The Grant Mansion has a unique place in Atlanta's history, if it can be preserved.
The Grant Mansion has a unique place in Atlanta’s history, if it can be preserved.

It’s rather unassuming, yet quite historic. It doesn’t dazzle with extraordinary colours or flashy architecture. To the contrary, its simple lines, modest proportions and utilitarian features speak more of its being a family dwelling than a historic building. But in the City of Atlanta, the Grant Mansion has a unique distinction. It’s one of the few Civil War period buildings not destroyed in the burning of the city 150 years ago by Union Gen. W.T. Sherman. Initially, its survival is attributed to one odd factor.

“Because Union troops found Masonic paraphernalia in the house,” documentation at the historic site explains today, “(soldiers) were instructed not to harm the houses of Masons.” (more…)

Madness as wisdom

Abraham Rosenbach got the bug to collect rare books from his uncle Moses Polock.
Abraham Rosenbach got the bug to collect rare books from his uncle Moses Polock.

Did you know that the original manuscript for James Joyce’s book Ulysses rests in Philadelphia? That’s because a Philadelphian named Abraham Rosenbach felt he needed to acquire it. In 1924, when he saw the first version of the book, Joyce’s actual pencilled words on paper, Rosenbach bought it.

He paid $1,975 for it. At the time, he felt he was simply helping Joyce raise much needed cash. When Joyce’s fortunes changed and he tried to buy the manuscript back from Rosenbach, he refused. Later, Rosenbach offered to buy the page proofs for Ulysses.

Joyce was incensed, saying “when [Rosenbach] receives a reply from me, all the rosy brooks [a play on Rosenbach’s name] will have run dry.” (more…)

Rescuers with no names

Crosby in Team Canada dressing room at Vancouver Olympics in 2010.
Crosby in Team Canada dressing room at Vancouver Olympics in 2010.

It was the day before New Year’s Day, four years ago. I had simply gone to exchange a gift at an electronics store in Oshawa. As I drove home that midday I remember listening to former Detroit Red Wings star Steve Yzerman announcing names of Team Canada hockey players for the 2010 Winter Olympics.

That’s when I was T-boned by a truck coming through an intersection. I remember my world spinning until I hit something else and came to an abrupt stop facing the opposite direction in the intersection. Next thing I knew, not an official, just a guy with a cell phone in his hand came to what was left of my driver’s side window.

“Are you OK?” he asked.

(more…)