A well-known Lindsay gentleman by the name of Reg Bacon was a watchmaker who was single and had plenty of time on his hands (no pun intended).
As a result, Reg was always looking for ways in which he could serve the citizens of Lindsay and surrounding district. It mattered not what the chore might be; to him it was a pleasure to offer help to anyone who needed it.
He was a staunch Rotarian and at one time filled the office of president of the Lindsay club.
Reg was a person who was physically challenged in the right leg, but was never one to seek pity. He went about his way living life to the fullest.
If anything could be said about Reg showing despair, it would have to be at the loss of his nephew, Ted, who paid the supreme sacrifice in the Second World War. This, one could tell, aged him considerably.
I was just a young lad when my father told me Reg had purchased a boat and invited him to come and see it. Reg was very proud of the fact he had made the purchase and was anxious to get the boat into the water. He counted on spending a great deal of time on the Scugog River over the summer months.
One Sunday afternoon Dad got a call from Reg and made arrangements to meet him at his boathouse along the shore of the river just slightly north of the river bank at the foot of Peel St. I was anxious to tag along and see this boat Mr. Bacon had purchased, so Dad took me with him. .
Upon arriving at the designated time, Reg was already there. He was inside the boat which was suspended by a block and tackle about two feet above the water. He had his pant legs turned up, and he was barefoot in his boat trying to bail the water out with a tomato can
It would appear the roof of the boathouse had a few leaks in it and, as a result, when the snow melted and the spring rains came down, a lot of water had made its way into the boat.
After some discussion, Dad told Reg he would be there for an eternity trying to get the water out of the boat that way.
"Well how else can I get it out Art?" he asked.
"Siphon it out Reg," Dad replied.
"How do you do that?" he asked.
As luck would have it, there was a hose approximately six inches in circumference hanging on the wall of the boathouse. Dad took it, leaned over the boat, filled the hose with water and told Reg to hold the one end in the water of the boat. He then quickly cast the other end over the edge to within about a couple of inches of the river. Viola, the water began pouring out of the hose as if it was being pumped out.
In very little time the boat was practically free of water and bewildered Reg said he had never seen such a thing as that done before.
The boat had an inboard motor and the men tried to start it after lowering it into the water via the block and tackle, but to no avail.
"There is only one thing I can suggest Reg, and that is to contact Roy Wilson at the Post and make arrangements for him to have a look at the motor," Dad suggested.
"Why him?" asked Reg.
"Well, there isn't a man in this town who loves to tinker with motors like Roy and if he can't get it going for you then no one can," Dad replied.
Reg did as he was told and the following week my parents were taken for one of many lovely boat rides with Reg that summer.
