I don’t remember too much about our family move to Toronto back in August
of 1964 but I have some memories of moving back home to BC in summer of
1973. I was 13 years old by then. I was 5 when we first went to
Toronto.
A bit of back story…
I started school in Toronto at Kew Garden elementary school. I did not get to
go to Ruskin School, which my boys Matt and Robert, brother Daryl, and my dad
Murray attended. My boys were part of the last class before the school closed.
I was proud that 3 generations had gotten to go there.
I was terrified to go as it was a huge school, bigger than anything I have
ever seen. I, like my brother Daryl, did try to “go home” at recess time…. got
caught of course and brought back. I did add one trick though, I pretended to
get “lost” one time, but that move failed me too. It was one of my recess
getaways, and I knowingly headed for the beach. (We lived about 2 city blocks
from Lake Ontario). I was headed to the playground when 2 young men found me.
Realizing now, that could have had a not so great turn out. But these two guys
were on the up and up and really tried to help me. I don’t know how they got a
hold of my dad, whether they called the school and the school called him or
just what. Needless to say dad was not impressed with me. After that one I
caved in and went to school. I just cried until recess instead of running
away.
I remember not having much for furniture in our Toronto apartment when we
first moved in. I remember the back seat of the car being our couch for a
time. Being the apartment was only a 1 bedroom for 4 people, my dad converted
the living room into a bedroom for Daryl and I. He later split it in 2 when we
got older. We used the dining room as the living room for all those years.
My hatred of school did not cease. The only fun time was in grade 8 in a
business or some sort of boring class, we had a nice “Newfie” girl in class. I
thought she was ok, but she got teased more than I did unfortunately. I always
thought it was neat how they said the letter “H” or “3” differently, and
chimney was “chimeley”. Then there was the European friend I made in grade 7
or so who got bullied horribly for simply liking flowers. People are stupid! I
wished I was not so ladylike back then… I would have straightened those
bullies out right quick.
Dad, after repeating some college years and courses due to working too much
and a late diagnosis of dyslexia, finally told us we were going home to BC in
1973. Daryl had married Barb at that point and chosen to stay behind.
I hadn’t seen my grandparents for 9 years, other than a train trip back to BC
in summer of 1967 with Daryl and my mom, and visits from my grandparents a
year apart in 1972 and 1973. Grandma and Grandpa Roadhouse flew down in 1972
for a long awaited visit. Grandpa would disappear on us for hours, and later
would turn up just amazed at all the brick houses. Mom, Daryl, Grandma and
Grandpa and I went on a trip to Bolton Ontario and after a little detective
work we found a relation Mr. Downy, who showed us the Roadhouse farm house that Grandpa was born in. That was a really cool sight to see. That
house I believe is now back in the Roadhouse family some how (I read online
somewhere).
In May of 1973, my parents flew Granny Hopper (Helen L. M. “Nellie” Murray) to
Toronto for my dad’s graduation from Chiropractic college.
On to the trip….
So then in late July of 1973 we cleaned out the little rental 1 bedroom
apartment we had lived in and I had grown up in. I said goodbye to my best
friend Janet who I had known since we first moved there when I was 5. We were
in different school districts so we never went to the same school but it
didn’t stop us from being besties.
The trip home did not go as well as the trip to Toronto did. Dad still had the
old homemade travel trailer that he and Grandpa built. It had been parked at
cousin Reid and Doreen’s farm in Lindsay Ontario. I’m pretty sure some kinds
of critters lived it in while it sat there at the farm. I don’t remember much
about dad getting it ready to go but they got it road worthy again and dad
bought Reid’s old 1 ton truck to pull it. He had also purchased an X-ray
machine that he figured he would need when he opened his office in BC. That
thing is another story all on it’s own.
A little sidenote about the truck… this GMC truck was bought new in 1964 by
Reid who used it for a farm truck for many years. Daryl learned to drive on
that truck and years later, once we were back in BC, Dad used it for the
“stump farm” he called it, which was the property he had kept in Ruskin to
come home to and build a home. The funny thing is that I also learned to drive
on that very same truck! By the way, Mom and I named the truck “Old George”!
They had several “George’s” as they got more successful later in life. Daryl
inherited our old Buick as dad did not think it would make it back to BC, and
he later parted with it. It ended up being in a showroom at a car dealership
when he decided to part with it.
We saw Reid and family every summer throughout the years we lived in Toronto.
I was between 2 of their daughters so there was always an exchange of hand me
down clothing going on. We always seemed to go there at corn picking time too…
funny how that worked out eh? I have to admit, I learned a lot about corn… and
garter snakes… ewwww!
I was checking my mom’s diaries to see if she had our trip to BC was in her
1973 diary and it is! So I once I digitize it I will post a copy of it to show
her version.
I don’t remember the exact dates that events happened but thanks to mom’s
diaries she has that covered. So I’ll just touch on the events that happened
as I remember them.
July 29th, we left Toronto to go to Reid and Doreen’s farm in order to prepare
for the long trip home to BC. I am not sure how long we stayed but it was long
enough to sort out Old George, and ready the trailer for travel. Loads got
rearranged and goodbyes were said.
August 7th, 1973 we were underway at last. We got as far as Orillia Ontario
when it was discovered that the tongue of the trailer had bowed badly. This
was likely due to the trailer being overweight likely from the X-ray machine
he’s bought. Dad got it welded and we found a camp to stay at for the night.
The next day, we got as far as Mactier in Muskoka area when the tongue broke
again. This time it was right down to the ground just about. It was towed a
tiny gas station in a place near Parry Sound Ontario. The guy told dad he
would have to rebuild the tongue and so we had to order the steel for it from
Parry Sound. We couldn’t stay in the trailer as it was now lopsided, so we got
a motel for the night.
The next day, August 9th, the men had the work done on the tongue. Dad also
got them to grease the wheels on the trailer.
We left Mactier late in the day, and got literally about 5 minutes away when
it happened. We were going along, tongue working fine. We drove over a small
hill, making note of the station wagon pulling a large travel trailer passing
by us going in the opposite direction. I was sitting in the passenger window
seat when we saw smoke coming from the trailer and it seemed to be listing to
the left badly. That is when I saw in the side mirror the tire bouncing down
the middle of the road….
We pulled over as quickly as we could safely. Dad and I ran back over the top
of the hill to see what had happened because we had also seen a cloud of dust
come up from the other side of the hill. It was the worse as suspected. The
tire had come off of our trailer, bounced down the road and somehow hit the
station wagon right smack in the radiator. This caused the woman driving to
panic, jam on her brakes which of course flipped their trailer onto its side!
Thankfully no one was hurt!
It turned out these poor people had suffered the worst vacation ever. It made
our bad luck seem like a day at the park. The man was a minister with his wife
and their family. They had 4 flat tires, their son nearly drown and when the
husband tried to jump in and save the son, he nearly drown because he could
not swim! The wife had to rescue both of them. So this accident just was the
“the icing on the cake” for them! The police came, phone numbers and insurance
exchanged, and at that point we were beaten. Dad was “done” with trailer and
it’s problems, so after the mechanic put the tire back on we drove back to the
gas station, off loaded what we could take onto Old George, and abandoned the
rest for now. We then drove back to Reid’s to off load and leave stuff,
regroup and start over again. I had to fight to keep the TV set! Dad hated TV
for years.
We had to wait out a thunder storm before going as George had a tendency to
leak. So we hid out parked under a bunch of trees. After the storm we finally
got going. We stopped for gas somewhere and when I got out to go use the rest
room, and bunch of bats came flying out from under our tarp swooping down at
dad and I. I being a 13 year old girl, ducked and screamed of course! The guys
at the gas station were excited about the bats though. The told us that their
area was mosquito ridden and the bats would help to get rid of them. At least
something good came out of it!
We arrived back and Reid and Doreen’s after midnight. They were completely
shocked to see us again!
The next day, Doreen took us kids to Peterbough to sell corn door to door (oh
joy!) while the grown ups dealt the truck load of stuff. Daryl and Barb came
to help and we finally left Reid’s for the second time on August 11th. We got
back to the trailer and loaded what we could onto George. We slept in the
trailer that night for one last final time.
The next morning, we loaded the rest from the trailer, then finally got
underway, arriving in Parry Sound by lunch time. Dad had left instructions for
the gas station owner (I think) to sell the trailer and forward the money… of
course, we never saw a penny of that.
We stayed in a place called Blind River that night and I believe that is where
we saw the water was literally black from minerals I suppose. You could not
see the bottom of the river water.
We were not able to get at our clothing as it was packed too tightly in the
back of the truck, so we made do and shopped at Kmart for some things as
needed. Other than that, things were fairly uneventful, thankfully. That is
until we got to Medicine Hat Alberta.
We somehow had managed to drive completely across Saskatchewan in one day,
almost 700 miles! We were completely beat by the time we crossed into Alberta.
We stopped at a Kmart (I can’t remember where) to pick up a few things and I
remember it being so hot that the pavement melted onto my flip flops! What a
time getting that off.
It was night when we got to Medicine Hat. Dad found us a motel to stay at but
it was full. They told him there was a convention in town and there wasn’t a
room to be had anywhere. Dad got them to call and ask around at other motels
as we were to exhausted to go any further. They did and told him that one
place had one room left from a cancellation and we could have it if we got
there quick enough. We hurried to the motel they sent us to, but the manager
there told us there was some sort of miscommunication and there was no rooms
available at all. We were done for!
We had no choice but to keep driving. We went a while until dad could not see
straight anymore to drive. We pulled into the parking lot of an abandoned gas
station and just sat there. We tried to sleep sitting up in the truck, dad at
the wheel, mom in the middle, and me on the passenger side. That’s when mom
“lost it” so to speak. The day had just gotten to her and she was beyond
exhausted. She began laughing hysterically! Which of course started me
laughing too. I had my head on her stomach for a pillow and every time she
laughed my head would bounce. It got old pretty fast and finally after a while
she settled down. I think we only slept 2 or 3 hours in total. By 4 or 5 am we
were on the road again.
We arrived in Golden BC August 16th around 4 pm. Too tired to go a mile
further we found a nice motel and took a long nap. We slept good that night.
We went through Rogers Pass, I took in the beauty moreso this trip as I was
now older and could appreciate it.
Throughout our entire trip west, we occasionally would pass a “hippy”
hitchhiker. We first saw him in western Ontario and of course we were so full
up we could not have picked him up if we wanted to. We passed him over and
over again, even in BC. The last time we saw him, he gestured that he would
ride up top on the tarp… Oh my God! I think not!
Dad stopped at BC weigh scales because he thought he had to. That’s where he
found out we had a 1 ton truck with nearly 4 ton on it! Nothing sketchy about
that eh? He also neglected to tell us that every time we went down a big hill
through the Okanagan and on highway 3, it was all he could do to brake. I
remember him having the brake petal to the floor and him nearly pushing
himself through the seat. He also didn’t tell us that the gas petal was nearly
wore out too. We made it to Hope by the skin of our teeth! Mom and Dad were
determined to get home to Mission today as they were just done with this trip
from Hell.
We arrived in Mission about 11:30 pm and stopped by the hardware store which
was across from the post office. Mom used a phone booth to call Grandma and
Grandpa Roadhouse. We did not know where their address was as they had moved
since the last time we were there. All I remember was overhearing a very loud
scream of joy from that phone, mom holding the receiver away from her ear
because Grandma was screaming so loudly from happiness and excitement. They
kept telling us that they’d come get us and show us where they had move to.
Dad thought he didn’t want to bother them and we’d find the place ourselves.
Grandma insisted, and said they could just walk down to us. We were confused,
but the next thing we knew there they were running toward us with open arms.
Dad and Grandpa got George parked for the night, and we went upstairs to
Grandma and Grandpa’s rental apartment on Welton Street. It turned out that it
was less that a block away from where we were standing to call them!
It was long after midnight before we got settled in for the night. Grandma had
mail for us, two of which were very important. One was the bill from the
accident we had in Ontario. Those nice people only asked for $400 for the
damages to their vehicles. Dad paid it out of pocket gladly. That could have
been so much worst in so many ways. The second was the college documents that
we did not stay around long enough to wait for. Dad had forwarded all mail to
Grandma and Grandpa’s address before we left so his final college exam results
were waiting there when we arrived. To everyone’s relief, Dad passed! He was
now a licensed Chiropractor!
Their apartment was actually a small bachelor suite but Grandpa had
partitioned it off for Grandma’s bed and he preferred a comfortable recliner
to sleep in. I think we just crashed on the floor. All I remember is Grandpa’s
snoring. He could move earth with that roar, but I remember how nice it was to
just be there despite.
The next day Dad and Grandpa went to Maple Ridge and found us a house to rent.
Within a week they had secured an office space to set up shop. I started grade
10 at Maple Ridge Senior Secondary that fall and we ended up moving again
after only a month in the rental house. They were building a new mall (Maple
Ridge Square) and the house was being sold to make way. The Realtor helped us
out though, and set us up in Pitt Meadows in a duplicate rental. There we
stayed until the house in Ruskin was built in 1975. Every weekend Dad would
drive Old George out to the “stump farm” to clear the land. One Saturday not
long after we got back, he had an accident. The brakes finally gave out on
George and he crashed though a sign in a parking lot. Luckily, no one was
hurt. So that’s when GMC George became Chevy George. George ended up with a
Chevy hood, grill, fenders etc.
Funny fact: Both my brother Daryl and I learned to drive on Old George! Later
our dad traded old George for my 1965 Chrysler Valiant.
The End