Posts with the Agincourt tag

Barris Beat

“Well aware” isn’t good enough

Written by Ted Barris on . Leave a comment
Volunteer firefighter with dashboard green flashing light.

Down from the 6th Concession I came, driving eastbound on Brock, this week. I slowed into the new 50 kilometre-per-hour zone. Then, I spotted him. A pickup heading the opposite direction with a green light flashing clearly on his dashboard. I pulled to the curb right away.

Then, a white SUV whizzed past me into the centre of Brock Street in a big hurry to make a left turn north onto Quaker Village Drive. An awkward moment followed, as the firefighter dodged the SUV. Finally, he passed en route to the firehall. I pulled up beside the SUV, still sitting in the left-turn lane. I honked my horn. She rolled her window down.

“You know that’s a firefighter trying to get to the hall, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” she said dismissively. “I’m well aware,” and off she sped into her left-hand turn, visibly ticked off at my scolding. (more…)

Barris Beat

The nurse I want attending

Written by Ted Barris on . Leave a comment
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…)

Barris Beat

How do I get to Yorkville? Practise!

Written by Ted Barris on . Leave a comment

Friday afternoons in the mid-1960s had a special rhythm for me. While most of my high-school pals gathered in the corridors to plot their party plans for the weekend, I left class early to catch the Sheppard Avenue bus west from Agincourt. With my trumpet case in hand, about 5 o’clock I caught the southbound Yonge Street bus, then the subway from Eglinton to Bloor. And then I walked west on Yorkville Avenue into what everybody called “the Village.” There, just before Avenue Road, I climbed up a back-alley fire-scape staircase to a third-floor rehearsal studio.

“Hi, Donny,” I’d call out to my trumpet teacher Don Johnson.

“Come on in and warm up that horn,” he’d tell me.

It took me a few visits in 1965 to discover I had climbed to the top of a Yorkville landmark, and an even more important music mecca. (more…)

Barris Beat

Centre of our world

Written by Ted Barris on . Leave a comment
Agincourt Rec Centre fire. 680 News photo.

As soon as I heard about the multi-alarm fire at the Agincourt Recreation Centre, I paid attention for a number of reasons. Like a number of us in this part of Ontario, that particular rec centre is a familiar one. But I also wondered about the loss of a community’s vital organ. I caught the reports as firefighters continued to battle the blaze, and watched some of the residents in the area reacting to the fire. One reporter talked to a young boy.

“All the things we do in there,” the boy told Global News. “Now us kids won’t have that anymore.” (more…)

Barris Beat

Worrying is worrying our kids sick

Written by Ted Barris on . Leave a comment

The topic came up rather suddenly. My son-in-law had dropped by to pick up his children. He sat on the step. We got caught up on the day. Then, he explained that he had been talking to his eldest daughter – that she was getting to the right age – about walking home from school with a friend rather than being picked up every day by her dad or her grandparents.

“We want to help give her a sense of independence,” he said. (more…)

Barris Beat

As safe as … a game of hockey

Written by Ted Barris on . Leave a comment
In a hundred years of hockey in Canada, kids and skates and pucks belong together.

It didn’t matter how early on a Saturday, he still came with me. Even if he’d worked half the night getting his last newspaper column of the week finished at the Globe and Mail, and even if we played the first game of the day at 6 a.m., my dad was always there. He helped me tie my skates, made sure my Butch Goring helmet was in place, and sent me onto the ice to play house-league hockey. I felt secure too, seeing him at the end of the outdoor arena, through the chain-link fence, cheering us on.

“Go, Agincourt, go,” I heard him shout between puffs on his cigarette.

Having a parent take me to the rink felt supremely comforting. And, as I remember, we had a couple of coaches – volunteers – who made sure we had sticks, pucks and jerseys. It was always reassuring to have those familiar people there for us. A virtual security blanket. (more…)

Barris Beat

Add water and stir imagination

Written by Ted Barris on . Leave a comment
Flooding a backyard ice rink the old-fashioned way.
Flooding a backyard ice rink the old-fashioned way.

It was like that 1981 movie, “Cannonball Run,” in which a bunch of fast-car addicts get a telephone call and immediately drop what they’re doing to join a cross-country auto race. Well, even if you don’t know the movie, suffice to say a couple of Saturdays ago I got a phone call from one of my hockey pals to assemble a work party.

“My house,” Mike MacDonald texted, “about 10 a.m.”

When I first arrived at Mike’s place, just after 10, nobody was there. But within seconds several of Mike’s neighbours, Kirk Buchanan, Scott Clayworth, Jamie Steele and Jim Sproxton emerged from their homes and converged on Mike’s garage. In seconds, they’d rolled up the door and were rifling through a pile of wood in the garage. Since this was my first time, I just offered to assist. (more…)

Barris Beat

Call of the bell

Written by Ted Barris on . Leave a comment
If this doesn't look familiar, read on.
If this doesn’t look familiar, read on.

For those of a certain age, the sound of this bell is unique. It’s distinct from a church bell, a bicycle bell, a carillon bell, and even a fire engine bell. As close as I can put into words, it goes, “Ca-clang, ca-clang,” in a slow, swinging, walking-like rhythm. And it has a very specific translation for those of us who remember it.

“I’m nearby, on your block,” it says. “I’m here for one thing. So, come to the curb if you need your knives, scissors or garden tools sharpened.” (more…)

Barris Beat

Just how cold was it?

Written by Ted Barris on . Leave a comment
That Fort McMurray hilltop where we tried to beat the cold with our introductions, in November 1985.
That Fort McMurray hilltop where we tried to beat the cold with our introductions, in November 1985.

We had been sitting inside our TV crew van for about 15 or 20 minutes, waiting. We weren’t about to venture outside until things were ready for us. Meantime, my co-host – Lee Mackenzie – and I, rehearsed what we would say. We wanted to make sure, the moment our producer called for us to speak our lines in front of the camera, outside, that we could deliver the introduction to our TV show in one take (without any mistakes). Why? Well, our camera location was on a hill overlooking Fort McMurray, Alberta, in wintertime. The temperature outside our van that day was about –40. Eventually, all was ready and we dashed outside, took our spots, rolled the video and spoke our lines.

“Hi, I’m Lee Mackenzie,” she said.

“And I’m Ted Barris,” I said. “Welcome to ‘Monday Magazine’ from Fort McMurray…” (more…)

Barris Beat

No honour in silence

Written by Ted Barris on . 1 Comment

When I attended public school in the village of Agincourt (now part of Scarborough) because it was nearly a rural school the playground was sizable. Still, during recess, the boys in my class had to find the tallest maple tree – just off school grounds – to climb. The principal realized if one of us were hurt, he’d be liable. So he declared the tree “off limits.” That didn’t stop us. One day, we were blithely enjoying the tree, when out strode Principal Kilpatrick in a rage. Everybody ran for cover… except me.

“Were you playing in that tree?” Kilpatrick asked me directly.

“Yes,” I said, because I couldn’t hide the fact. (more…)