Homes for Heroes

Sergeant medic Alex Barris in Czechoslovakia 1945.

Late in 1945, after the Second World War, my father Alex Barris received his honourable discharge from the U.S. Army. He had survived training as a medic in Kansas in 1943, the bloodbath that had been the Battle of the Bulge in western Germany in the winter of 1945, postwar occupation service in Czechoslovakia and transatlantic passage back home to New York City in time to rejoin his family for Christmas.

Eager to return to civilian life, Dad visited his alma mater, Haaren High School, to claim his education transcripts. As the school registrar retrieved the papers, Dad strolled through the school hallways, pausing at the school’s honour roll.

Haaren High School in New York City.

“Alumni Who Gave Their Lives in World War II,” the banner announced atop the wall. There were dozens and dozens of names – 56 in all. Then, the most incredible thing happened. He saw his own name etched there in the bronze. Dead. Honoured. But it was a mistake. When he tried to explain the error to the registrar, however, she blushed and blurted out:

“Oh my! Someone will be in trouble over this.” And she dashed away. (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…)

What makes a kid’s summer?

My sister Kate  and I got an introduction to cottage life at the Globe and Mail cottages on Lake Erie in the mid-1950s.

I might have dismissed the email, but the subject line caught my attention. “A Quick Past Memory,” it said. A fellow named Bryan Graham contacted me this past week to remind me that his dad and mine had known each other on the job 60 years ago. He explained that he’d tripped over my name in a military newsletter and decided to get in touch to tell me about our families’ connection.

“My father, Al Graham, was a district manager in Waterloo for the Globe and Mail in the mid-1950s,” Bryan explained.

Of course, since my father Alex had worked as a reporter and then columnist for the Globe back then, I took a bit more time reading his note.

“The Globe and Mail owned a property on the shores of Lake Erie with 12 wooden, very basic cottages and a small recreation building,” Bryan continued. “I’m confident our families spent a summer or two there together in the ’50s.” (more…)

Father’s Day gifts

My father Alex Barris at his Toronto newspaper office desk – writing to dealine.

My back was to the wall. Eleventh hour. Up against it. All those clichés applied. My Grade 8 history essay – on the causes and effects of the War of 1812 – was due Monday morning. It was Sunday night and the essay was done in every way but one. I pleaded with Dad to help me, not to compose the essay, but to type it for me. And he did, but not without an important provision.

“This is the last time,” he said. “From now on, you’re on your own. You’ve got to type it yourself!”

I nodded, not really understanding what had just happened. All I cared about was that my history paper would be delivered in class, on time and looking spotlessly professional. Why? Because my dad was a professional writer and he would never submit anything short of perfect. (more…)

Play is the thing

The Bonner Boys Splash Park earlier this past week, before the official opening – Sunday, August 18, 2013.

Recently, my daughter took her children to the park area just west of the arena in our town. Enjoying the last days of my summer holidays, I joined them. The kids seemed pretty excited, but that’s what being a kid is all about – looking forward to the next adventure. Anyway, when they arrived at the hillside beyond the arena, they saw the animated figures and waterworks flowing. My grandson’s remark kind of summed it up.

“Wow!” was all he said. And he just repeated, “Wow!”

(more…)