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Cy Es ASE TU A RE BIER SRS PA NEA PS LB NR AEE oe RA A AHA, fs toot LALA] Sere Yer ily ny Ca. ROTA SR HG RE RA ' ARLE iin 4 As YS HE SAAS Slit dates _ 60 YEARS AGO Thursday, Sept. 6, 1917 ~ Port Perry High School 'started this year with an attendance of 71. Last year the attendance on opening day was 54, Mr. Andrew Campbell has just returned from a trip to the west, where he went as far as Regina. Mr. Harold Emmerson has bought the first Fire Insurance business from Pearse and Ward, Mr. James' Ward retains the piano and organ: depart- . ment of the business, "Toronto will Remember When..? 35 YEARS AGO Thursday, Sept. 3, 1942 The marriage was announced of Virgina Nasmith to Mr. Charles Clifford, R.C.A.F. Kings- ton, L.A.C. George Mulligan has completed his two months course at a Flying School in Quebec and will be stationed at Dauphin. Dr. Lundy announces the installation of an up- to-date- X-ray machine. Mr. Frank - Sues, be. the teacher at . Prospect school this term. Mr. Maunsel Gerrow, Reg. Nurse, Whitby, Ontario County has joined the R.C.A.F. Medical Corps. 25 YEARS AGO Thursday, Sept. 4, 1952 7,000 all time high was the attendance at Port Perry Fair. Mr. and Mrs, James Moffatt have returned to their - western home to celebrate their Golden Anniversary with their family. .41 Port. Perry Cub members from A and B packs had the first camp iN the history of their ---group-on-Scugog Island. 20 YEARS AGO Thursday, Sept. 5, 1957 Bruce Taylor, son of Mr. and Mrs. Leonard Taylor, Greenbank, won the University of Toronto Mathematics and Science award on his completion of the grade thirteen examinations at Port Perry High School. Registrations at Port Perry Public School this year was 425 with 73 beginners. Mr. Clinton Short, Van- couver, was in town last: week : 10 YEARS AGO Thursday, Sept. 7, 1967 The Insurance Agency founded by Harold W. Emmerson, September 1, 1917 is still in the same family. During the same "year, Mr. Emmerson also married Aileen McCaw. Mrs. Emmerson is the only family member who has seen the growth of the firm durng. the last 50 Years, now holding posi- tion of vice-president. Service pins, awarded to staff members who PORT PERRY STAR -- Thursday, Sept. 8, 1977 -- 5 Industrial seminar A tentative agenda for an industrial development sem- inar to be held next month in Port Perry was released last week by Durham Region: With the provincial Minis- try of Industry and Tourism and Durham Region acting as co-hosts, the one-day seminar October 26 will centre on the problems associated with industrial development in the northern tier municipalities of the Region. The agenda includes a dis- cussion by two economic consultants. Mr, William Buck, president of Inducon Consultants will talk about the economic benefits of industrial development, and A high speed chase August 29 through South Oshawa has regulted in charges against two Port Perry men. Durham Regional Police have charged Brian Kenneth Tripp, 19, with criminal neg- ligence and driving with a blood alcohol count exceed- ing .08. A second charge of obstructing police was laid against Allan Doyon, also 19. The chase began when a Mr, Alex Crate, an economic and financial consultant will talk about downtown re- development including the techniques, the "costs, and the results of such a pro- gram. Ken Mesure of the Minis- try of Industry and Tourism will give a talk on the intro- duction to industrial deyelop- ment. Also included in the day's agenda are films, dis- cussion groups, and a ques- tion and answer panel made up of several individuals involved in industry in the northern townships. Attending the seminar will be regional chairman Walter Beath and Robert Nicol, director of development for Durham Region. Two men charged police officer spotted a car skidding to a stop at Ritson Road. Several attempts to pull the car over were un- successful, and speeds as high as 80 mph were clocked. The car was finally stopp- ed outside a home on Olive Avenue. While police were talking to the driver of the car, a second man allegedly struck an officer on the side of the face. 985-3589. Amn A group of unidentified men stand a only slave to choose Port Perry his home in freedom. The museum would be interested in recording the name of the three gentlemen standing and the erain which the picture was taken. If you have any information, call - vob Pg round "Professor" Stout, the Photo courtesy Scugog Shores Museum have been with the hospi- tal for a period of ten years or more, were given to Miss Vera Gough, Mrs. Jean Mount- joy and Miss Olive Hanna, of the Nursing staff and Mrs. Anne Dow- son and Mrs. Marjorie Edwards, Dietary Staff members. The pins are awarded by the Board of the Community Memorial Hospital, Port Perry. J. Albert Fulford, arena manager of the Port Perry Community [| Memorial Arena Board, was a successful candi- date at the 1967 course at Guelph University in general arena business administration. (PORT PERRY STAR Serving Port Perry, Reach, Scugog and Cartwright Townships J. PETER HVIDSTEN, Publisher Advertising Manager JOHN B. McCLELLAND EDITOR Member ot the Canadian Community Newspaper Assoc and Ontario Weekly Newspaper Associa' or Published every Wednesday by the Port Perry Star Co. Ltd. Port Perry, Ontario Authorized as second ¢1ass mail by the Post Office Department, Ottawa, and for payment of postage in cash Second Class Mail Registration Number 0745 Subscription Rate: In Canada $8 00 per year Elsewhere 310.00 per year. Single copy 20¢ Bill Smiley Vanishing Traditions You can't hardly turn your back these days but one or other of our old traditions has either vanished or changed for the worse, This great thought came to me, for no known reason, as I was speeding down the highway the other day, wincing every time a big transport nearly blew me off the road, shouting opprobrium every time some punk in a sports car cut in front of me, emitting those vile noises reminiscent of a bear with the dire rear. : "You know; Bill," I said to myself, rather querulously, "one of these fine days, you won't be able to find a farmer who can drive a team of horses. Fix a tractor, yes. Drive a bulldozer, likely. But not knowing the difference between 'Haw' and 'Gee'." Well, this thought, in its very profundity, made me Sort of gloomy, and the gloom deepened as day after day came further evidence that our whole society, as you and I knew it, Mabel, is disappearing behind our very backs. . I was saddened when I took my two grandboys out to a local farm the other day, to pick some corn and beans. Plunked them down between the rows of corn and they were bewildered. The littlest howled with terror of this alien corn. They'd never been on a farm before, and may never be on one again. Quelle dommage! I'must admit they weren't baffled for long. In five minutes, Nikov was lost in the corn patch, locatable only by the piping "I found a big one, Grandad!" and little Balind was sitting in the damp clay, happily picking and eating yellow beans. But I felt a twinge of pity for them, that. they'll never ride on top of a load of hay, never get a squirt in the face of warm milk right from the cow's teat, never have the fun of turning the handle of a separator, never see a farmer sharpening a scythe on a grindstone, or a farmer's wife beheading the chicken that was to be dinner. I didn't grow up on a farm, but in that most pleasant of all places for a boy to grow, a small, tree-lined town in old Ontario, with farms all around it. My uncle bought a farm just on the edge of town, and a few of the aspects of farm life were a" secret to me. It was a grand old place, formerly the estate of a gentleman farmer of means. There must have been 15 different outbuild- ings, most of them in a state of dilapidation. There was' a huge old house, boasting several fireplaces and even a butlers pantry. Sort of a run-down Jalna, but a great place for a boy to visit. As it turned out, it was a lousy farm, and he lost a fair chunk of his shirt when he finally sold it and bought a real farm. But for a romantic kid, who read a lot, going out to the farm was the equivalent of visiting relatives who had come down in the world a bit, but were still aristocrats. My uncle, a hardy old Irishman who lived to be 94, bought a farm then on the other side of town, but it was just a plain farm. Its t redeeming quality was that on the nk of the river that flowed through it was fought the last duel ever fought in Canada. 1] bullets. Some years later I even took a girl down to that river bank, probably hoping that the atmosphere (the duel was fought over a lady) might have some effect on her. It didn't. Summertimes, before the Great Despres- sion put an end to such frivolities, we went to a cottage up in Quebec, on a small, beautiful lake. Just up the hill from the lake were two farms, and I spent many hours jumping in haymows, helping bring in the cattle, turning the separator, helping to load hay on the wagon, drinking from the dipper in the pail in the kitchen, and staying for supper and fresh blueberry pie, if I could wangle it. At Belshers' farm, the nearest, we got most of our grub. Fresh produce picked from the garden. Daily milk at 10 cents for a five-pound honey pail full.: Unhomogenized. Unpasteurized. Delicious. A couple of fat fowl for Sunday dinner, if relatives came, and they did in droves, at 50 cents each. Unplucked. Uneviscerated. Delicious. Eggs at 30 cents a dozen. Uncandled. Unsorted. Delicious. The Belshers were the nearest thing I ever had to grandparents. They were elderly, their own family grown and gone. Mr. Belsher was a huge, raw-boned man with a magnificent moustache who could hit a hen - at 10 paces with a squirt of tobacco juice. He knew about kids, and let us fork hay, handle the reins, feed the chickens, and give a pail of milk to a greedy calf, a robust experience. His wife was as tiny as he was huge. Worn with toil, deaf as a doorknob, sharp as a tack. And gentle, generous, warm. She knew perfectly well that small boys do not have stomachs, but bottomless pits. The other farm was the Kelly's. The name was right on. They were like something straight from the ould sod. Maggie had pure white hair and the classic features of a Deirdre of the Sorrows. She was stuck with a brother, Jim, who had the worst stammer I have every heard. He sounded retarded, but I think it was only the stammer. He loved kids. At Kellys', we got drinking water and worms. They had a well of such pure, icy water it would shame champagne. Behind the barn was a spot where we could always get worms, those skinny, red wrigglers ideal for catching speckled trout. No charge for water or worms. Today's farms would want 50 cents for a pail of water and a dollar for a dozen worms. We never bought much at Kellys'. I think Maggie was too proud to sell to the summer people. But she let us play with the lambs and feed the pigs. Perhaps we were the only children she ever had. She never petted us or played with us. She was taciturn, almost grim. But once in a while the piercing blue eyes softened into something like the nearest should come to a grin. Ah, my poor grandboys, back to their home in the city. Noise, + Smog, violence, confusion. Ah, fleeting years. What wouldn't 1 give to be 10 years old, digging worms beneath the manure behind Kellys' barn!