Why giving does us good

Tom Stormonth and Alison Dunn go to any length to support authors and readers. 1000 Islands Book Festival.

That Sunday afternoon just before Christmas, I arrived at the community centre in Mallorytown, in eastern Ontario, for a history talk. Members of the Mallory Coach House heritage group had decorated the hall, set out chairs and prepared refreshments for visitors.

It turned out to be a (pre-COVID) capacity audience. Only I was without an important ingredient for the event. I had none of my books to sell at the end of my talk. Then suddenly, out of the blue, this guy arrived with his car trunk full of my books.

“Tom Stormonth,” he said, “Beggar’s Banquet Books, in Gananoque.”

“That’s a fair hike to here, isn’t it? I asked.

Tom nodded. “Hey, it’s about getting your books out there, right?” And he added, “Merry Christmas.” (more…)

Gifts money can’t buy

It took my dad far too long to set up his B&H movie camera and light rack, before allowing us near the Christmas tree.

It was a time before cell-phone selfies and video. Heck, it was even before video. Each Dec. 15 morning, our parents wouldn’t allow us into the living room where the tree sat until the time was right. My sister and I had to wait until Dad wound up his Bell & Howell movie camera, and turned on the powerful electrical lights so that the camera would register an image on his 8-millimetre motion picture film.

“OK, I’m rolling,” he would say finally. “You can come in now!”

Whereupon, my sister Kate and I, blinded by the movie lights and unable to see a thing until our eyes adjusted to the bright lights, would stumble into the living room. (more…)

A verdict falls short

My Corolla sitting in a wrecking yard the afternoon of Dec. 30 last year. Almost a year after being t-boned in a Whitby intersection my case came to an Ontario courtroom.
My Corolla sitting in a wrecking yard the afternoon of Dec. 30, 2009. Almost a year after being t-boned in a Whitby intersection, my case came to an Ontario courtroom on Dec. 17, 2010.

It happened one day last summer. I think I had just finished mowing the lawn, when a police cruiser motored up the driveway. A couple of Durham Regional Police officers stepped out. My wife and I exchanged a surprised glance.

“Are you Ted Barris?” one of the officers asked.

“Yes…” I answered a little nervously.

“I have a summons here for you,” he continued, “in connection with an automobile collision last year.”

(more…)