Tell me, Prime Minister…

RCMP Const. Heidi Stevenson at a public- service event in 2020. Cdn Press photo.

On Sunday, April 19, after as excruciating a night of pursuit as any known to her force, I’m sure, RCMP Const. Heidi Stevenson made the toughest decision of her life. She’d heard radio calls from a fellow constable nearby that he’d been shot by a murder suspect looking like an RCMP officer, driving what looked like an RCMP cruiser in Nova Scotia. She must have recognized the object of the all-night manhunt was taking deadly advantage of RCMP insignia to approach innocents and shoot them. She must have decided to at least try to take away that advantage. She spotted the impersonator and took drastic action.

“She rammed him,” Brian Sauvé of the National Police Federation told the Toronto Star, “and probably saved countless lives.”

Not, however, her own.

(more…)

Don’t know what we’ve got, ’til it’s gone

Uxbridge Post Office, a symbol of what community can lose without a fight.

I’d overlooked it for years. I think it was back 2006 when a number of us organized a weekend to celebrate the township’s anniversary. We were artists, shop owners, civic workers and town boosters volunteering our time. Leading up to the event, we’d looked for a place to meet. That’s when financial specialist Brian Evans offered us a room at his Toronto Street office. I stepped into his board room for that first meeting and noticed a collage of photographs of a turn-of-the-century building framed on the wall. I’d never seen that Edwardian-era building before.

“What and where was that?” I asked.

“Don’t you know?” someone responded. “That was our original post office.” And when I asked where, they all said right where the new post office is today. “They knocked down the old one and threw up that new one.” (more…)

Greatest loss from the Great War

Globe and Mail (Nov. 8, 2018) front page features artist Tyler Briley and his sculpted relief of Sam Sharpe installed on Parliament Hill.

In one of the first notations he jotted into his combat journal, First World War soldier Sam Sharpe recorded the actions of his rookie Canadian battalion. The 116thOntario Country Regiment was experiencing its baptism of fire in France. It was April 9, 1917, the first day of the battle of Vimy Ridge. His men were not fighting German soldiers, but laying wire in communication trenches on the Allied side of the Western Front. L/Col. Sharpe noted that his men endured a hail of artillery shells as they worked. Members of the 116th were wounded or killed, including one of his closest friends in the battalion.

“It is awfully sad,” Sharpe wrote. “Lt. John Doble was killed instantly by a shell, while leading a wiring platoon. Ontario County is paying its toll in this great struggle.”

This Sunday – for the 100thtime – at the 11thhour of the 11thday of the 11thmonth – we will gather at the cenotaph at Brock and Toronto streets in Uxbridge. (more…)

A willingness to work

In the 1950s, this is the kind of work ethic that got John Zentana and his family into Canada.

He was only 18, back in 1955. He didn’t speak a word of English when he and his parents arrived from Italy. And his skills were few; he knew how to sharpen knives, so his father could butcher what livestock the family had raised for food. But when John Zentana arrived in Canada, none of that mattered. The basic criterion for entry to this new country was simple.

“Are you all prepared to work?” immigration authorities asked.

“Anything,” John’s father promised. (more…)

Democracy and the flames of economy

Book burnings by the Nazis in 1933 – Wikipedia.

When I left on a short holiday, about 10 days ago, this fall’s municipal election in my home own looked rather dull. While the mayoral contest and the regional council races were shaping up to be competitive, the number of candidates running in our wards left several virtually uncontested and even on the verge of proclaimed winners. Within the span of my holiday, though, the picture changed radically. To quote a friend of mine:

“It’ll be democracy, after all!” (more…)

Evidence we’re winning

Jennifer O’Connell explains how MPs voted unanimously on a long-awaited installation on Parliament Hill.

During her speech at the Sam Sharpe statue unveiling, last Friday night, MP Jennifer O’Connell became emotional as she explained that the day before, Members of Parliament had voted unanimously to install Tyler Briley’s sculpture of Sam Sharpe in the Centre Block of Parliament in Ottawa.

And when Seamus O’Regan, the minister of veterans’ affairs, quizzed her about the community groundswell of support in Uxbridge that had brought this motion to the House, he seemed genuinely impressed.

“Who are these people?” O’Regan asked her. “What is it about Uxbridge?” (more…)

Sixth or seventh sense of Nature

Soothed here by his favourite toy, the household pet has always felt upset as a storm approaches.

Sometimes it’s as subtle as the songbirds in the backyard going silent. Other times in the house, the cats curl up together in a corner. In a more obvious example, my pet Kerry blue terrier pants as if he’s just completed a marathon run cross-country, and I know there’s a thunderstorm in the area.

I remember the story, a few years ago, about an earth tremor in the state of Maryland. And Mike Blanpied, a U.S. Geology Service expert, reported that just before the quake, animals responded because they were more sensitive to the slightest shaking.

“Animal earthquake prediction,” he called it. (more…)

A house that was a home

My neighbour's house comes down piece by piece.
My neighbour’s house comes down piece by piece.

The demolition had been going on for over an hour. Layers of roofing, above the second floor were now caving in. Rafters that hadn’t seen the light of day for over a century and the walls that could tell stories of many of those years came cascading down. It was all quite controlled. With the precision of a surgeon, the excavator operator was bringing my neighbour’s house down piece by piece.

Murray Huntington spots an important clue.
Murray Huntington spots an important clue.

But suddenly the excavator shovel – Murray Huntington’s industrial scalpel – powered down. Huntington opened the excavator door, stepped out of the cab and climbed over the debris that had been the second floor.

“What’ve you got?” I called out to him from ground level.

“Maybe you can use this,” Huntington said.

And he gently tugged at a few of the floorboards atop the pile of rubble to reveal some paper. He’d spotted it in the debris, brought it down and handed it to me. It was a newspaper. (more…)

A time of evil

Dalton Trumbo's smile was deceiving given the prejudice he endured.
Dalton Trumbo’s smile was deceiving given the prejudice he endured.

I watched an entertaining and important movie at The Roxy Theatre in Uxbridge this past week. It reminded me of a very scary time in the world. It made me wince at the lunacy of the fear mongering. It saddened me to think that people lost their careers (and in some cases their lives) for their political views in a democratic country … in my lifetime. The hero of the story, Dalton Trumbo, summed it up late in the movie.

“No one on either side (of this feud) who survived it, came through untouched,” he said. “The blacklist was a time of evil.” (more…)

Talk to the hand

It happened last Saturday morning. We at the Uxbridge Cosmos newspaper had assembled on Maple Street. Our float needed a couple of last-minute touches, but we were ready and waiting for the parade to begin. I was looking for something else to do. I suddenly noticed a traffic jam at Maple and Centre Road. I thought maybe I could lend a hand. When I got there, I found a long line of southbound cars on Centre trying to get through the Santa Claus Parade floats. A woman in the first car I encountered rolled her window down.

Members of Cosmos family - staff, contributors, fans - from Santa Claus Parade several years ago.
Members of Cosmos family – staff, contributors, fans – from Santa Claus Parade several years ago.

“This kid,” she said pointing to her son in the back seat, “has to be at a music lesson downtown in six minutes. Get me through this.”

“Well, try this way,” I said as I directed her along Maple Street.

She followed my hand direction and raced up the street (we both hoped) to get her son to his music lesson on time. For the record, I have no idea whether my direction was a help or a hindrance. I just offered her a potential way out of the psychological and geographical gridlock she faced in that intersection. But I later remarked to my Cosmos colleagues how powerful I’d felt directing her through the traffic. (more…)