It’s just over a year now – Feb. 9, 2019 – that a young woman produced a video that showed her pitching a patio chair from a balcony 45 floors above the Gardiner Expressway in Toronto. Her stunt on Snapchat got thousands of social media hits. Instagram later picked it up and carried her response to the resulting charges of mischief endangering life.
“Chair girl wants charge dropped,” social media outlets said. (more…)
He had a knack. Whenever he launched into an introduction, even if we were familiar with every word that followed, we knew we were in for a treat. My father, Alex Barris, had a unique talent for telling stories. And even if we knew it was a shaggy-dog story (one artificially stretched-out to build the suspense), we never tired of his telling it.
“Ever heard the story about the famous piano tuner?” he might begin. (more…)
I met a couple of teachers, a few years ago. At least, I came to know a little of their lives. There’s not much I can relate. They were both Polish. One was named Jan Ciechanowski, born in March 1882. And Jerzy Brem was born in September 1914, as the Great War began. They both came to the area of Poland, around Krakow, in 1941. Or, more correctly, they were brought there, to the small town of Oswiecim, which elite German armies then occupied. The Nazis renamed the place, Auschwitz. And here’s the way the Nazis’ records summed up those two teachers:
“Jan, number 11193, executed Oct. 29, 1941” and “Jerzy, number 10190, executed August 19, 1942.” (more…)
Anyone younger than 20 or 25 will not know this, but two decades ago this spring, the hospital in a small Ontario town suddenly faced a crisis. On May 17, 2000, seven children from a town school arrived at the hospital complaining of cramps and diarrhoea. The next day, 20 students were reported absent from another school in the same town, and on the day following, 33 more youngsters were absent from class.
It didn’t take long for area hospitals to see a trend of patients suffering from gastroenteritis symptoms. When townspeople suggested that the local public utilities commission (PUC) water protection system might be the cause, they got a terse response.
“The town’s drinking water is okay,” said two PUC officials. (more…)
It was one of those re-inventing-the-wheel sessions. Neither I nor my fellow professors at the college, where I taught journalism from 1999 to 2017, sensed we were having problems getting through to our students at that moment. Nevertheless, college decision-makers called a meeting for some PD (professional development) training, this particular day. They said they had great news!
“We’re going to make teaching easier for you,” the experts informed us that day. “Online teaching is the new wave in education.”
I think I turned to one of my colleagues and whispered in Doubting-Thomas fashion, “It may just be the wave that wipes us all out, or at least leaves us sputtering for our lives.” (more…)
I was heading home from the city, the other night. I dashed up the escalator from the TTC subway, and spotted the coach I had to catch sitting outside the bus station. I sprinted across the platform and landed just inside the front doors of the bus. The bus driver wasn’t pulling out right away, so I caught my breath and moved down the centre aisle of the bus to make room for others.
“Don’t crowd me, man,” said a young commuter next to me. “Keep the f___ away!” And I stepped back and apologized.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” said another man to the guy spouting the profanity.
And on it went. More expletives. More intensity. Back and forth between the two young strangers on the bus. So, before the bus left the station, I asked the driver to open the door and, as he did, I thanked him and said, “I think I’ll catch the next bus.” (more…)
I didn’t recognize her immediately. I should have. But, back in 2013, while attending an annual general meeting of The Writers’ Union of Canada in Ottawa, a woman approached me and she asked if we could share a coffee and some conversation. Since most of the AGMs I attend are often about reflection, I naturally agreed. That’s when I realized who this woman was.
“I’m Catherine Lang,” she said, “the aunt of Michelle Lang, the Canadian journalist killed in the Afghanistan War.”
My expressions of condolence were heartfelt and Catherine was generous in her gratitude of them. But she had greater expectations from our chat than just my recognizing the loss of her adult niece. (more…)
The big day is less than three weeks away. We’ve had plenty of snow (if a bit tamped down by this week’s rain) to keep things reasonably white until Dec. 25. All over town, homes have sparkled with flashing or cascading lights (and some with gaudy decorations) since we switched back to Eastern Standard Time in early November. And yet I’m still having trouble coming up with the right gift for some of my friends and family.
Me? I’ve found what I want for Christmas. I learned about it in the Globe and Mail a couple of weeks ago.
“A pond at the heart of hockey,” the story was headlined. “Nova Scotia property claims a historic tie to Canada’s game.”
And it’s for sale! (more…)
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…)
One of his three daughters stood at the memorial to Bob Shepherd last Saturday. As many did that afternoon, Lynda Sauder fought back the emotions of losing her father to cancer on Oct. 23. She remembered growing up in a loving household, one that shared a passion for running, camping and plenty of debate around the dinner table.
“There’s a book in my father’s story,” she said. “And we’ve already started writing it.” (more…)