FIRST TRIP WEST. ---- licensed and Ready to Roll.

I started looking for a job, but with no luck. I was way under age with no documented experience. I fooled around for about 6 weeks reading the classified ads every day with no luck. It was like the comedian in the old movies who played opposite May West, W. C. Fields who always used to say to the young ones, "Go way kid, ya bother me", that seemed to be the attitude that I would get when applying for a job. I hated that Fields guy ever since.

I did finally find an ad looking for drivers to deliver new cars to Calgary. It was listed under business personals. It was a one way trip and they paid $2 dollars a day plus room and meals. I might as well go and check it out.

I found the place; it was in a small gas station in down town Toronto. There were 8 cars and one 1/2 ton pick up truck to go. The guys would fly into town and buy about 10 cars and hire drivers for a one way trip. They made a fortune doing this. They did not give me any static about age or experience. I jockeyed a bunch of cars around the parking lot for them while I was waiting my turn. I guess it was some sort of test. If it was, I passed. I was told to be there at 08:00 am the next morning, stressing again that this was not a job but a one way ticket to the west. I didn't care; I was going west, one way or another anyhow.

I was there early and selected the 1/2 ton Chevy p/u. It was about an hour and we were on our way. The night before, I told my mother that I got a job delivering new trucks out West. She seemed relieved that I finally got some work. The thing that I did not tell her was that it was a one way trip with no job or help at the other end. That did not bother me one bit. I was driving and earning a small buck on my own. Even if it was for just a week or more, I was on the move to my independence.

We drove over to Sarnia, Ontario, crossed into the United States at Port Huron, Michigan, and then made our way up to the Straits of Mackinac, in Northern Michigan. We then lined up and took the ferry boat over to St. Ignace, catching US highway # 2, to the west. It was all new territory for me and the excitement got stronger every day. We headed west across the Northern States to Shelby Montana, and then turned north to Sweet Grass at the Canadian border. We had to spend a couple hours there before crossing into Coutts Alberta, while all the USA Customs bond papers for the vehicles were checked and cleared.

In the meantime I was in the little coffee shop looking over the souvenirs. I found some bull Durham cigarette tobacco in little bags. They were the ones that the cowboys carried in their shirt pocket. It even had the string to close it up with your teeth, just like in the movies. Each bag came with a small pack of cigarette papers. They were plain with no glue on them. You were supposed to stick it together with your spit. The tobacco was like wheat grains, and if you did not twist the ends, it would just roll out the end of the paper. One of the guys thought that he was a real cowboy and showing off, the tobacco rolled out the end and poured into his soup. While he was trying to light up, the paper flamed up wildly, and burnt the end of his nose. Another driver spoke up and told him that he should turn in his spurs, he didn't know anything about being a cowboy. It came close to blows, but was eventually laughed off.

They were 5 cents a pack. I bought 20 bags for a dollar. I went over and had a coffee with the other drivers, and on the way out all I had was a twenty dollar bill. The coffee was a dime. She gave me 19 silver dollars, 3 quarters, 1 dime and a nickel change. I could hardly walk without my pants falling down. Those silver dollars are big and heavy and I did not realize it everyone in Montana used them for gambling. Just like in the old cowboy movies.

We then headed north again, and the farther north you went, the closer the mountains seemed to be. We made Calgary, spent about an hour getting parked and being paid off. From there, I was totally on my own, with the nearest person that I knew was 2,500 miles away. I got directions to a cheap hotel, and bunked down for the night.

First thing in the morning I started looking for a job at the employment office. It was a no go, so I walked to a restaurant for a coffee. While there, I started talking to the guy sitting on the stool next to me. I asked him, how do I get out of town so I can start hitchhiking to Edmonton. He asked why I was going there. I said that I am a driver and need a job. He then told me that Fred Manix was always looking for men to work on different jobs. They have a construction camp that you can stay in, at the job sites. That way it doesn't cost you anything to get started. You eat sleep and work there, without spending any money out of your pocket. They deduct your bunk and board straight from your pay. He gave me the office address and said for me to ask for Fred, and tell him, I sent you.

I walked about 10 blocks to the downtown section, found the address and went in. I explained to the receptionist what I wanted. She directed me to an office down the hall, and said to go straight in. I did, and the guy asked what I wanted. A job I said. I was told that you were looking for men on a job site, with room and board. We talked for about 20 minutes and then said that there were 2 jobs on the go that were short of men. One was up near Fort Saskatchewan, and the other at Canmore, Alberta on the Spray Lakes Dam Project. I got him to show me on the map where they were. The Fort was on the prairies, and Canmore was just a few miles inside the Rocky Mountains towards Banff. The mountains, I said, the mountains. He looked at me and said OK. He took a bus ticket chit out of a drawer, and filled it in. As he gave it to me he said that I would be met at the bus depot when I arrived, and taken to the camp site. There is one more very important thing you will have to remember. If anyone asks your age, you tell them that you are 18, OK? Yes sire. He gave me the ticket, shook my hand and wished me luck.

I had about 3 hours to kill, so I went in to a movie theatre and watched the show till it was time to go. I was on the bus on time and made sure that I had a window seat. As we entered the mountains it was awesome, I had never seen anything that big in real life, only in pictures. We arrived in a couple hours, and there was a p/u truck waiting and drove me out to camp. They let me into the mess hall and fed me, and then they assigned me a bunk. I was home.

I worked there until late fall, as general labour, and then supply driver, and all round trucker and equipment operator. I learned a lot of things on this job. The whole crew treated, and taught me continuously like I was their only son.

I was asked one day if I had ever been to Banff. I said no, and for a couple days they told me about the hot springs, the big hotel, and other things of interest. They said that I should not go home without seeing it first. It was a must. Every day I was more and more intrigued with it. Finally, while delivering a load up to the dam site, the guys were bugging me about Banff again. Finally I said well I can't wait any longer, I am going over there now. When I got back down to the base camp I went over to the foreman's office and told him that I wanted to quit and go to Banff. Well I guess the crew finally got to you. I really don't want you to go, but stop in at the cookhouse and grab some lunch, by that time I will have your pay ready for you. Jerry can drive you into town to the train station.

By 10:00 am I was on my way, and thanked them all for giving me a chance. I caught the next train west; it was just a short hop of about 30 miles. I checked into the King George Hotel for a couple days, and then proceeded to be a tourist.

The Banff Springs Hotel was first on my agenda, it was a long uphill walk, but I had all the time in the world. I always liked swimming, I wasn't any good at distance, but still enjoyed fooling around in a close area. The hot pool was really inviting and bathing suits were available for rent. I left my cloths in a locker and brought the key with me tied to the waistband. The water was hot sulphur straight from the underground springs. It was a slow entry, but once acclimatized; I began moving around more and more. Everyone else was just sitting there or floating around. I on the other hand started throwing my key into the pool and diving for it, at a pretty steady pace. In about 20 minutes, I had my fill. With all the constant diving and swimming around, I was starting to feel a little tired.

I changed and started to walk back to town, getting about 200 yards, I sort of passed out, and drop to the ground. A couple of local passers by picked me up and set me on a park bench, all I remember was someone saying .... Another foolish tourist. I must have slept there for at least 2 hours. All that fast swimming and diving in that 100 degree + F sulphur water sucked out all of my energy, and left me useless. While sitting there and regaining my awareness', I noticed that my silver ring was almost black. It was from the sulphur in the water and took a couple of days to get it worn off and shiny again. More new lessons learned.

I spent 2 days taking in all the local sites, and was ready to move on to new adventures.

Next, I went to the train station and bought a ticket for Calgary. After arriving, I took my big suitcase and shipped it to Toronto by rail, keeping the small one with my essentials for travelling. I learned early that the only way to travel, was light, and fast.

I made my way over to a truck stop called TRUCK TOWN. I thought that I would check and see if it was possible to catch a ride. My timing could not have been better. I wasn't there 15 minutes when a 1949 Ford tractor pulling an empty car carrier, pulled up to the pumps. It was a standard day cab with a gas engine. The name on the door said INTER-MOUNTAIN car transport, and the address read CALGARY, ALBERTA and WINDSOR, ONTARIO. When I saw Windsor on the door I started talking to him, and asked him if he knew of anyone that I could get a ride with, because I am going to Windsor too.

He gave me the once over and finally said that he would take me along, just for the company. I threw my small bag under the seat and we were off. We headed straight south to the Coutts & Sweet Grass (CANADA, USA) border, and running empty, cleared the customs in about 5 minutes.

He drove day and night, stopping only for food and fuel. He was running around 70 miles an hour, and wouldn't slow down unless he seen a cop. I just couldn't understand how he could stay awake that long. At times I would lean against the side window using my jacket as a pillow. But he just kept on truckin. Eventually we crossed over from Detroit to Windsor and I was nearly home. After that ride, the next 250 miles would be a snap. I thanked him and headed out to the highway to thumb a ride. That was about 07:00 am, and I was in Toronto, at home in the late afternoon.

I had never heard of it till years later, that drivers running non stop, day and night were usually on Benzedrine, or something along that nature.

I was home for about 3 weeks, and being the travelling hero of my local friends, I ended up paying for all the parties. They were still going to school and were broke. This was near the end of November, when I found myself broke again and still out of work, and locally, I was still considered too young.

Getting desperate, I called the drive away service again, and was told that another convoy would be leaving near the end of the week. They were still in the marked for drivers. Remembering me from earlier, I was told that there would definitely be a car for me.

Well here we go again. It was getting a lot colder, sooner this year, but I thought that I would be able to get some work. In those days construction pretty well came to a halt for the winter, and most of the available jobs are usually taken. One other thing, I did not have any unemployment insurance stamps accumulated. I was not eligible to collect, if necessary.

I was on my way again, with a full belly at meal time, and warm beds at night. We took turns going out in the mornings and make sure the cars would start. The temperatures were getting below zero every day. It took a little longer this trip, as we hit a couple freezing rain storms, and after that, it got extremely cold, we hit heavy blizzards on the prairies. It was turning into an all round crappy trip. I think it was a sign of things to come. There was no fun in it this time around.

We ended this trip in Calgary again. We got our pay out, and were again on our own. I got a room for the night, and then started to pound the streets looking for a job. The only thing available was washing dishes in a restaurant, and it would be 2 weeks before the first pay. I did not have enough to get a room and carry myself that long. This went on for a couple more days and was totally frustrating. With the temperature riding below zero almost every day, I decided the best thing for me to be doing now, would be to get moving again.

My small suitcase was becoming a hindrance to me now. I dropped it of at the railroad station on the way out of town, and shipped it home collect. I had about four dollars left to my name, and only 2,500 miles to go. (Walking) I had a 3/4 length fall coat, wool pants and a light pair of penny loafer shoes with light socks. I stopped in at the Hudson Bay Co, and picked up a wool toque for a dollar.

It was dark out now and was walking out of town eastbound. I got a ride for about ten miles and was dropped off at a country intersection. It was about 9:00 pm, pitch dark out and well below zero. I started walking again, and there was not a car in sight. My feet were freezing, and I dare not stop moving. I came near a farm house with the lights on in the window. I stood there for some time debating whether to go and ask for shelter or not. My feet made that decision for me. The pain was becoming excruciating. I went to the door and knocked. An old man answered and asked what I wanted. I asked him if he would let me sleep in the barn for the night, in the hay, to get out of the cold.

My heart dropped when he said that he could not allow that. As I was turning to leave, he said you will have to stay inside the house, come on in young fellow.

When I hit the heat, and started to warm up, my feet produced pain like I had never felt before. He said that it would have not been much longer, before I would be in real trouble.

They fed me and babied my like I was their only son. He said that there was a milk truck that goes by here every morning. We will get you up at 04:30 am. You will eat first and make ready to travel. I will get him to give you a ride. It should be over a hundred miles or so. We sat for a bit after eating, and were then taken up to the attic of this small house. The bed was old fashion, and had an original tic to lie on (An old style mattress, not a bug) then covered with an eiderdown comforter. It took about 30 seconds and I was out like a light.

The morning came fast; they called me to breakfast, and said I had to be ready for the milk truck. She made me a lunch to take with me, and I did not know it till hours later that the old man stuck a two dollar bill in my coat pocket.

We said our good bys, and I could not thank them enough for the help given me. I could have died if it were not for their hospitality.

The milk truck took hours and hours to go the one hundred miles. It was truly a milk run, stop and go all the way. Finally we arrived at Bassano, Alberta, and he said that this was the best he could do for me. I thanked him and was on my way again.

This time of year, on the old roads, there was practically no traffic at all. You could walk for hours and not even see a car. Not only that, out on the prairies, you would be lucky to even see a hill. It was still below zero and my feet were getting cold again, and I dare not stop walking. I eventually picked up a couple of rides at fifteen to twenty miles each. They were ranchers, just going from one ranch to the next. Out here it is just going to your next door neighbours.

Eventually I made it to Medicine Hat, and was fortunate enough that my ride took me through the city, and about twenty miles farther east. Again I was dropped of at a side road out in the middle of nowhere. It was getting late in the day and the temperature was dropping fast. I returned to the walking routine, just to keep warm. I got my final lift to ten miles north of Maple Creek Saskatchewan. It was dark and extremely cold. I stood at that intersection for about an hour, freezing. There was nothing to stop the cold wind from hitting me, no trees, nothing but open prairie. Eventually an old pick up truck came along and said he was going south into Maple Creek, and if I wanted a ride to jump in the open back. There was a male driver and two women passengers, jammed into that small cab. It had a sliding rear window. He opened it so we could talk. I was, with the wind chill, freezing my ass off and could hardly get the words out anymore. He told me that there was his old army great coat in the back there some where, and for me to put it on if I wanted. I found it under the straw, and made a tent around me, with my face stuck into the open rear window. They had a bottle of whisky open that they were passing back and forth. They began to include me in the circuit, passing it through the little rear window, for my swig.

It was about 10:00 pm when we pulled into town, and he dropped me off at the only open business at that time of night. It was the local pool hall. I practically crawled in, and saw an old pot belly wood stove in the center of the room, just belching the heat out. I made my way over there and began to thaw out again. Being the only stranger in town, I was considered suspicious by everyone there.

It was about a 1/2 hour before I started to thaw out again. I was approached a couple of times wanting to know if I was looking for a game. I declined and said perhaps later. I asked if there was a hotel in town, and was directed to it, about a block away.

I only had a dollar left to my name, but I went over that way anyhow. I checked at the desk and was told a room would be two dollars in advance. I did not have it. There was a payphone in the lobby and so called home collect. My mother answered and I told her my predicament. She asked if she could talk to the night clerk. He listened to her and she asked him if he would give me a room till morning and when the bank opened, she would telegraph me ten dollars. He said no, it had to be cash in advance. She asked me to give her an address where she could send the ten dollars, and I told her not to do it, because I had no place to stay. The next day I would be walking out of here. I told her not to worry and I would call again somewhere down the line.

The only thing I got out of the clerk was that the Salvation Army was down the street. He gave me their address and I walked to it. It was a house and I knocked on the door. A man answered by opening the door about two inches, and asked me what I wanted. I said that I was freezing, broke, and needed a bed for the night. He looked at me and said we do not do anything like that; you will have to go somewhere else. With the door slammed in my face, I then headed to the railway station. I sat on a bench and tried to get some sleep. The night watchman came over and woke me up, saying you can't sleep here, you will have to move on. By this time it was about twenty-five below zero, and I told him no way. Call the cops if you have to, but I am not going outside for anyone.

He said to follow him, and we went to the furnace room. It was a dark dungeon. We got over by the furnace and there were three other hobos sleeping in the dirt. Just as I was resolving to stay there, a big rat ran across one of the guys. I went back to the waiting room, lay down on a bench, and then told the watchman to wake me when the police arrived. No way in this world was I going to sleep in that rat infested dungeon. My temper was really starting to show now, and he plainly seen it. I had a bellyful of this so-called, nice friendly town in the west called; MAPLE CREEK, SASKATCHEWAN. A freezing, hungry and penniless teenager had no place showing up in this town looking for a little help.

The police did not show up, but the sun shining through the window, told me it was time to move on and try to make it through another cold day.

I was walking out of town heading back north, it was ten miles back to the intersection. I did about three miles, when a feed truck came along and gave me a lift up to the highway. He saw the rotten condition I was in and pulled out his lunch bucket, and offered a sandwich and some coffee from his thermos. I thought that I had died and gone to heaven. That coffee and sandwich made my day, and lifted my spirits back up. Well there was one good guy in Saskatchewan anyway. He dropped me off at the junction and carried on up north, while I started to hoof it eastward again. Thinking to myself, this is one town that will leave an indelible (bad) memory with me as long as I live.

Here I go again, walk, walk, and keep walking. There was no traffic at all. I carried on for about three hours, and spotted a surveyor working ahead. I asked him if I could get a lift, even for a short distance, just to be near his heater for a while. He asked what I was doing on this road anyway. They told me this was the new Trans Canada Highway, and it goes to Toronto. Well I got some bad news for you. This is the Trans Canada alright, but it is under construction and not open yet. You should be about four miles south of here, on the old road. Come on, I'll give you a lift for about eight miles and will get you onto the right road. OK? Thanks, you are a life saviour.

The wind was still howling, and it was still below zero. My feet were swelling and I was starting to lose a little sensation now. I started to run and jump a bit to see if that would help the circulation any. Finally, I noticed a car coming from quite a distance down the road. I stopped, waited and had my thumb up in anticipation. My other hand was in my pocket with my fingers crossed. He stopped, (thank god) and I got in. Behind the front seat was a bushel of delicious apples. For the next hour I could not help but grabbing a look. Finally he said would you like one? Go ahead. Thanks, I haven't had much to eat the last few days. Just help yourself when you want one.

It was an old 1938/40 (?), Nash four door sedan, and I had noticed that the rear doors had been spot welded shut. He said that he was going to Toronto, on the Canadian side. I just about choked to death. I had a mouth full of apple at the time, and spewed it into my lap. Are you serious? Can you give me a lift all the way? Yea, I guess that I could, it would be better If something happened out in nowhere, to have company. I savoured the moment, in total relief.

In the back seat was a sleeping bag. After talking for hours, he figured it time to grab a couple hours sleep. We pulled over into an abandoned service station and slept about four hours. We pointed the car into the wind, and rolled the windows down about an inch, with the engine and heater running. We dare not shut the engine down. In this cold it surely, would not start again. He was in the back with the sleeping bag, and I was twisted around the steering wheel. I didn't care cramps or not, I was in a heated space.

As day light was breaking we were on the move again. We drove through Winnipeg without stopping. The wind was really whistling as we drove across the flat prairies. You could feel the cold coming through the doors. We pulled in for gas at one of the only stations between Winnipeg and Ontario. While gassing up he went in to the garage and got an empty cardboard box, breaking it down, and with a piece of rope tied it to the front of the grill, making a makeshift winter front. He said he should have thought of it back in Saskatchewan. On the move again, the heater made a dramatic improvement in its output.

We drove for hours, without seeing any traffic to speak of. Heading into Ontario we were finally off the prairies, and into the bush country. It cut the wind chill dramatically.

We had just come into Dryden and he was practically falling asleep. We stopped for a coffee and he asked if I would like to drive for a while. OK, sure. He climbed over into the back seat and flaked out. I drove on into the night, the road was old and narrow, twisting and turning around the hundreds of lakes and over the granite hills. It was becoming tiring, but I made it through Fort William and Port Arthur, (Thunder Bay, today) without a hitch. It was another sixty miles to Nipigon, where the road split. I finally made it through town and came to the junction. The rising sun was blinding me, and I was totally beat out. Pulling over just across the Nipigon Bridge, at the junction, I called him and told him I could not go any farther.

Once he was up, I told him Highways, 17 & 11 split here, either left turn or straight through, but there is no posting of which is which. You drive straight through until you see the first road marker, it should be les than a mile. If it says 17, turn around and come back, and then take the other direction, which will be Highway 11 South. That is the road we want, and will take us straight to Toronto. Highway 17 dead ends at Schreiber, sixty miles to the south.

I climbed over into the back seat and wrapped myself into the sleeping bag. I was totally beat out from driving all night, while he slept all the way.

It seemed like it was only a minute later, when I felt a bump, bump my eyes were focused up and out the side window. All I could see was a blur of trees and sky flying past the window as if we were doing about one hundred miles an hour. My eyes were closing again, and then I was flying in the air, bouncing off of the ceiling of the car. I just could not figure out what was happening. I thought for a second that I must be dreaming. Then it hit me. If you are dreaming you do not ask yourself if you are, it is real. A big thumping crash, and the spot welded back doors were both open and a small river started flowing through.

Still in a daze, I heard yelling, get out, get out; it is going to blow up. I had to fight my way out of the sleeping bag, and that was no easy chore, while still dazed. I looked up at him, and he was about fifty feet above me on a cliff yelling and screaming.  The water was flowing like a river through one door and out the other. The snow was not too deep, but it was a pain in the ass trying to climb the bank, especially wearing street shoes. By the time I got up there, I was cold wet and totally pissed off. What happened? I don't know, I found my self flying through the air, and crashed down the bank and into the creek. I asked where we are. I don't know. What do you mean, you don't know? I just don't know.

I went back down to see if anything could be salvaged. The car landed right over the creek, breaking in half. The trunk was open and he had three, five gallon cans of gas that I did not know about. It could have blown. Now I realized what he was yelling about. All that I could retrieve was the sleeping bag (soaking wet) and his winter boots.

Back at the roadway, standing around for twenty minutes, no one came by. I suggested we start walking. Which way? He did not know which way was up, so it fell on me to decide. Looking at the tracks in the snow, I figured go back the way we came.

After walking for over an hour, I saw a little shack over the cliff, and down beside the railroad tracks. We climbed down and banged on the door. There was one man in there, and had a telegraph key. He asked where we came from. We had an accident down the road and need help. Can you call the police for us? OK, he then telegraphed back to Nipigon for the Police. He said that they would be right out.

It was about two hours, before the cop showed up. I asked what took so long, and he answered that he came directly, and that is what it takes to come here. I asked where are we. You are about forty-five miles out of town. It takes two hours? I found out while riding back, to just where we were. It was all narrow old road, winding and twisting up and over a range of mountains. At times we had to burn our way up the hills when running on snow packed roadbed. The ploughs do not work at night. Not only that, we were still on #17 highway, and was supposed to be on #11 highway. We were headed for a dead end. Actually, we did end up on a dead end anyway.

Apparently, he drove right on past the road sign and carried on until he fell asleep at the wheel, drifting over the bank and off the road.

On the return to Nipigon, the old Highway 17 was one scary trail, and I was glad that I slept through it all. Coming up to the 11 & 17 intersection, the sign was there showing the routs to Toronto and to the Lakehead. It was not displayed on the other side, and could not be seen eastbound. I was really getting browned off. The 17 road sign was only about one hundred yards past the intersection, and he drove right on past it.

The police wanted a statement from us, mine was short and sweet. "I slept through it". We were back in Nipigon and I phoned home again. Mom said that she scraped up ten dollars for me, and to stay put for a few hours while she wired the money. Just as soon as it came I went directly to the hotel for a decent meal and a bed. It was three dollars for both. I cleared everything with the cops and was free to go. I asked him what he was going to do now, he had to wait and make the tow truck arrangements and he would be here for a couple more days. Apparently his Saskatchewan government insurance covered everything, no mater the fault. He also lost his bet with his friend in Toronto that the old car would not be able to make the trip that far. He lost, but not from mechanical failure, it was driver failure.

After a good rest, I was up good and early in the morning and walking again. I walked across the bridge and made sure I was around the corner and on highway 11, before trying to catch a ride. I was not about to make the mistake of going down 17 again.

I walked on past the Indian reservation and was on my way around the shore of Lake Nipigon, when I got my first ride. It was a logging truck that was going about 125 miles to Longlac, to work in the bush. He took me through town and five miles out, before dropping me off at an inspection station, and then turning off onto a bush road. The guy stepped out of the shack and asked where I was going. I told him Toronto. He then told me I could not go any farther unless I had a guaranteed ride. Why? It is one hundred and thirty miles to Hearst, the next town. It is dirt bush road, and you cannot go without being signed in and checked out at the other end. There is another check point part way through. You have to give an estimated time of arrival. If you do not show up at that time, we give you another three hours. Then if you are still not there, we come looking for you.

It was close to an hour before another car came along. He checked in and willingly gave me a ride to Hearst. We were off again. We made both checkpoints and I was dropped off in town. I tried to get going again but with no luck at all. I stood on a corner at the edge of town till after dark. Nothing. It was late, and I was getting colder and colder by the minute. I couldn't take anymore so headed back to the railroad station. I sat on the bench and tried to sleep a bit. About midnight there was a shift change. The jerk that took over said that no bums were staying here while he was in charge. He ran me off. I walked for an hour, and had enough. There was a cardboard box lying on the side of the road. I had a pack of small matches with me, so I tore up the box and started a fire. Once it was going, I broke branches off of a couple dead trees and kept the fire alive till morning. Once the sun started to break, I let the fire burn it self out, threw some snow over it and started walking again. It was about two and a half hours later before anyone came along. When one did, it was a tractor trailer moving van, and he was going all the way to Toronto. He stopped, gave me a lift all the way, and I figured he in reality saved my life.

I survived the trip and was looking forward to my next adventure. I just had to do some trucking, one way or another.

It was December now, and Eaton's of Canada was looking for drivers real bad. The few weeks before Christmas were their busiest time of the year. They had curb side vans, piled high with parcels for home delivery. They would hire anyone who had enough power to walk in from the street. They were really desperate for any driver that they could get their hands on. I went for a 5 minute parking lot test, and within 20 minutes I was issued a complete drivers winter uniform. Another hour later and they had me delivering a load of parcels. I asked, when I was supposed to finish, and they replied, just keep going until no one answers the doors anymore. On some days, I was still doing deliveries at 11 o'clock at night. Whatever I could not deliver, just bring it back and come in, in the morning and start out with another load.

A few days before Christmas, one of the appliance drivers got hurt hauling a big refrigerator, and would not be back to work until sometime after New Years. I just happened to be on the dock loading when they approached me, and told me to leave the parcels and go onto the appliance truck. At the time I was the biggest one there, and was automatically elected. My age was never ever questioned. That carried on for a few months, and I never got laid off after Christmas, I was now full time on the appliance trucks.

                ------------ William (Diesel Gypsy) Weatherstone               RETURN TO STORY MENU