2 posts tagged “campfire stories”

Did you go to summer camp? What is your favorite memory/story? If you didn't go to camp, do you feel like you missed out?
Submitted by chris.

Do you feel like you missed out by not going to summer camp? How can one who has been raised in the far deep northern bush of Canada miss out when one is in summer camp all year long? I  have camped in the summer...does that count? I am a camper in the city or out. In the summer of our London, Ontario, existence from the fall of 1984 to the fall of 2003, I would put up the tents in the backyard just to enjoy summer camp. That being that both tents could boost about a dozen or so campers. The back yard on Barkley Street went into a bush joining the yard filled with trees into one. For, the most part, the bush itself ran a course along one end of Barkley to the other until it was decided that it would be nice to have a real park for golfers, baseball players and soccer. That was when Grant brought home a bull dog called Radin. People who think fist first always pack the same type of gear it seems. And, Grant is not a golfer although he has gone golfing with his father taking along a Bible to read as he watched. Well, that was his pre-teen years. As he grew taller he realized one day that if he arched his brow up slightly, leaned forward, who could do a swaggart of an impersonation of Sean Connery. Golfing being out he was now into being just rude.
However, the puppy needed exercise and it was only then that I would walk the green. Smells have such strange effects. I was walking by the soccor posts and it was as if someone had been sleeping there the night before. "I know that smell." It was just a fleeting moment ever so gently and I bowed. How strange? Why would I have the urge to bow as if in a castle? I must have looked quite ridiculous.
Most of our camping was before the London move which would place camping with Dennis between 1971 and 1985. Dennis is NOT a camper. He is "a hotel person" complete with telly and golfing replays. However, for the sake of the children he did indeed try camping.
1973
We decided to go up for a visit to Robert. The ride for this joyous camping trip took what seemed all day. We had only one toddler...Carrie...a hyperactive child that campers had taken photos of walking around her crib as we enjoyed the shade and insects.
"and rain",
Yes, and rain. She was five months old. "I have never seen a child so young walk about like that." The climbing up onto things started at nine months and the turning on the TV to watch Sesame Street was at ten months. Despite all of this energy Carrie was a sickly child. She started vomiting up her foods at three months and continued with diahrea till she was two and a half. It was thought that she might be a cystic fibrous child. The smell of her diapers being one of the symptoms of CF. The smell was horrendous and after each change the diaper had to run outside. She was to be an artist. We knew this because if we didn't beat her to the diaper within minutes she had used her own feces to paint the walls. Today, she is in university for her masters in art so she can teach art.
1973 was a quiet visit. We knocked on the door said hello and off we were to another camp site. Robert Rae Wigle would not forgive me for remaining with the JW's. He remembered the Shirley Jane Temple time period. I was sleeping with the enemy. I don't know why he thought I would remember. It was the same for April Louise Wigle.
"You know what they did and you are still associating with them."
But, I didn't know what they did be it JWs or Hoovers or directors or actors in general. My conclusion of "what they did" was not the same as April's nor Roberts. I simply didn't remember.
I had visited Mr. ?Holt on a visit to LA and did a video on the visit to remember Charlie Palloy and for odd reasons the Dallas Bookstore. Did he call me for a visit?
He went to reach for my hand to hold it and said, "I know what they did to my daughter. I know what they did to you."
I couldn't stay. I couldn't speak. The air left my lungs. I pulled my hands away and literally left holding my hand on my stomache. Outside the prison I ran with my hands over my ears and vomited. I don't remember. And, I refuse to remember. I can't remember.
I returned that evening or the next day to borrow  Mr. Holt to do some art for me at one of the studios called "Cherokee  Amazing Grace" in memory of  John Tail.
My idea of camping is in the car on a day trip with Tim Horton's coffee cups piling up on the  floors and dashboards.
1974
The visit with Robert was longer the following year. He invited us into his home that he had built. Robert's idea of building homes is to pay cash - use a bucket for water until one can pay cash for a sink; use the outhouse until one can pay cash for a toilet; live inside without carpet and walls until one has the cash and the cost of the mortgage for the land will be much lower. He made his regular payments. Robert has always been trifty.
1952, Yankee Stadium, New York City
Tent City, Camping for the summer during a Jehovah's witness seven day convention.
"Robert?" inquired Uncle LJ (short for Lambert Joseph Jr), "do you have any money for supper?"
Robert did not respond. Robert is a emotional mute a trait picked up between 1950-1953 during prior visits to the USA. Robert had stopped speaking along the way. Elsie thought it may have been a virus or a high fever and was sent for hearing tests although truth be told she never actually saw him after separating from Mel. Another bone of contention between Robert and myself. One never is to mention her name.
"Here is a dollar go buy yourself food with it."
Robert accepted the dollar and placed it into his pant pocket. He spent his time walking the camp grounds picking up litter with a nail attached to a pole. He always was the volunteer type and did his part quietly. I would tag along or just go off listening to the prayers and discourses as I watched people and gathered stones. I prefer stones over gems they are much more interesting. I knew what I would buy with my money. It was the same every morning, cherry pie, ice cream and chocolate milk. Mel was usually constructing something somewhere.
Inside the family circus tent he was eventually confronted. "Mel, we have all been talking (all the aunts and uncles the Wigles and the James) and well, we don't think that you are paying enough attention to Robert and Iris. We don't have an awful lot of money...now we don't mind sharing...but we simply can't afford to look after our own needs and that of your children." LJ and Wellington went on to explain that they had been giving all week to those "youngins".
"Robert!?!"
Robert came forward reluctantly, slowly, to the center of the circle.
"Did they give you money?" Robert would never have asked for money. He nodded.
"Do you still have it?" He nodded.
"Can I see it?"
He pulled into his pant pockets and pulled out all the cash. Not one penny was missing. Robert is a saver. Always was...always will be. Myself, I had spent it on junk food. I didn't get to eat the food always. I would black out and wake up in the "first aid tent". I had the memory of an ice cream cone not eaten. And,  always missed it.
Mel decided to take us to the Yankee Stadium with him the next day in an effort to try to be a better father. Truth be told he just was never there. We didn't have a fridge on Springarten Road but he knew that we knew where the cupboards was which sometimes caused a roar of gossip now and then.
1954
"Do you have any food Iris? I am hungry?" complained Mary Finn, best next door friend on the road. We were in the middle of rehearsals for a jungle scene using old discarded car tires as canoes forging past alligators and hypos. Let's take a look. She looked everywhere for food. We found a handful of crackers.
"Let's have a mouse race?" I had insisted.
"A mouse race?"
"Yes, let's see if we can win the race by taking only bites the size of a mouse. Big bites would count as losing and the person that eats the smallest bites wins the race. Of course, to Mr. Dolittle, there is not a problem at all. There are trees with apples, pears, peaches, apricots and vines with two choices of grapes. How much food does a child need?
"She fell out of the upstairs window and your neighbours called the police because they thought someone was breaking in." What a ridiculous conclusion!?! Everyone on the road knew had a suspicion that the house was haunted. Why would anyone break in? Robert and April would make fudge for Halloween, put on the light, and no one would dare come in. Or, perhaps they thought that Mel Wigle might be about and even the police did not particularly like to visit. Mel never screamed. He would just smile and a whisper would come between his teeth.
"Are you accusing me of stealing my own children?"
"Oh no sir," replied the officer softly, "it's just my job to ask." The police officers hand's were trembling. End of conversation. Mel did not need a rifle in his hands. I remember the day that he had heard that children at the school had been beating on April and Robert and volunteer monitors from out of town had used a ruler on my legs to try to make me wiggle when the class had lined up to leave after lunch for the outside.
Mel simply walked into the principal's office, hoisted him up a foot or two against the blackboard and whispered ever so slightly, "if I hear of one more report about my kids being beaten up I'll be back!"
He was my hero that day.
Mel just didn't seem to fit in with this religious family but he was willing to try. Was he the right Randolph Scott? There was three or four and even I couldn't keep track? Whatever...he is the Mel Wigle that we knew.
1953 Yankee Stadium
A real nice minister had asked me on stage to interview me. They even bought me a real nice white dress. I was to answer a series of questions about growing up and about this and that. I had been told what to say which was very confusing.
I jumped up during the interview in front of possibly over fifty thousand people and yelled, "that's a lie!" And, ran off of the platform. Was it something to do with the year before? At one of the visits to go camping in the US for a religious convention Robert had decided to volunteer to sell ice cream. He thought it was rather funny if I was to touch the rock ice. Lesson learned...I will never touch rock ice again. He was told to keep an eye on me. He didn't roam far but after a while I simply had to use the washroom. Upon my return back, the crowds pushed me outside where Mr. Henschel spied me. "Are you lost?"
I wasn't sure which door to go in and thought maybe I should just stay still until the crowds piled out. He and his young male companion decided it was best that I go with them to a hotel shared with Nathan Knorr. He could lie all he wanted that I was not with them but he would lose. After all, I used my crayons to draw all over the sides and backs of the speech he was to give that week at the convention. The police had his briefcase and the fingerprints. It never pays not to tell the truth because there was a story and another story and another story which ended in a false charge of "prostitution". I was not a prostitute and neither were Robert nor April who may or may not have been with us on the first visit, that being, that April wasn't added until the funeral of the royal Mary, the death of the Dutchess of York that summer of 1953 and the disappearance of the King that was never reported. No one could go to the throne before the death of the Dutchess. And, Robert, April and myself refused to sign "abdication forms". If there had been less Germans at the funeral and if there had not been a bomb scare and if the Irish were not being beaten, imprisoned and executed on false charges, we may have had different views but we didn't.
Camping should have good memories. At one of the Yankee assemblies Mel had purchased Hawaiian shirts to wear. They were so colourful. Good Christians wore only white pressed shirts with ties but Mel wasn't quite like the others. They were beautiful shirts.
1974
"We're not staying long. We are camping for the assembly in Sault St. Marie."
That being said we headed towards Manitoland Island to say hi to a friend by the name of Susan and Virginia Smith who had left the fields of Blenheim for the quieter northern life. We were smart this year . We would purchase a tent up at the Canadian Tire  Store fifty miles from the camp ground.
"Where are the tent poles?"
"No tent poles?"
We had to drive back to ask. "Ahhh, I lent them to a friend."
With new tent poles we were eager to start our camping. The tent required the poles to be on the inside and Dennis ran out of steam and asked for his helper. Just to make sure that Carrie didn't get hurt I tied a long rope around her waist to dash in to  assist him.
"Where did she go?"
Using the mind that the Creator gave her Little Helper had taken off her diaper and was running amok nude as fast as her legs could take her. Never mind! Children are children. We enjoyed the nightover and visit, packed up and headed for real camping in the Sault.
"Honey are you sure that you don't want to get a site with electricity?"
No. If Dennis was to camp it would be real camping.
"Honey, do you want me to help you make the fire?"
No...Dennis had purchased wood at the place marked "wood for sale" and it had to be the best green wood on the lot. It was logs about five inches circumference and four to six feet long. This should be interesting? I was waiting patiently and watching looking at all the free wood surrounding our non electrical camp site. He groaned and looked up at me helplessly, "we could use some of the old grass and twigs....that might help." I was biting lip, "don't  help, don't order, don't say anything."
He heaved a sign and I would brave the insects while he cared for the toddler. However, I was the submissive wife type and dropped the kindling at his feet. Oh, could he make a fire now. He was going to cook supper...bacon and eggs...in a frypan which he had placed on top of two large green logs. With a roaring fire underneath...I waited.
"Would you like a beer...some wine?"  I did.
Kerplunk! "Would you like a cold hotdog and a beer?" Dennis doesn't drink beer or alcohol. A daily dose of caffiene fed on a regular basis is his choice of brew. It helps with the stress to up it up and up. Alcohol? Are you kidding me?
"Let's go to bed. We have to get up early for the assembly this time."
Good order. One from the south should remember two things. Don't visit Lambert Joseph's old homestead in Balsam Creek in May or June....black fly season. Horsefly season isn't until July and August and the other insects are there all the time when there is no snow.
As Dennis would put it, "these horseflys are as big as horses. And, they bite. Look it took off half of my skin."
"Are you sure you wouldn't want to see where I once lived?" Once had been enough.
And, the second thing is this, bring your longjohns. The temperature dips at nights. Now, life being life, Dennis and I rolled out of bed one after the other without giving much of a look and we were like ships passing in the night. He was first. As I saw him within sight of the tent I raced towards the toilets. I had noticed, as had he, that campers seem to be the friendliest sort of people, smiling widely with a morning greeting.
I stopped to look at the reflection in the mirror.
"Honey why was my face all black with soot?" The only part of my face not black was my eyelids.
"Well, you see honey, it was so cold last night I turned on the lantern and," he paused to shuffle his hips a little, "I guess I turned it up to high."
"Everyone was laughing at me."
"Me too. I said to myself why are those people smiling at me and when I looked into the mirror I realized why."
Hmmm? That being said we dressed for the assembly which brought a lot of happiness and interesting reactions because, you see, we had hung our clothes inside the tent and one side was black all the way down. One side clean and the other side black. It could happen to anyone.
"You could have killed us all."
"Too much oxygen."
Good thing.
We were able to get a cabin.
"Hey honey come take a looksee at this bloodsucker. I have never seen a bloodsucker this big. It's almost as big as an egg. Are you sure it is safe to swim in the water?"
"I'm sure."
"Keep still. They'll fall off when I hit them with a match."
"Ouch!"
"I don't understand it. They never bother me."
The following years were milder in form of amusement...mostly rain...with our dressing in green garbage bags from had to toe now and then but the kids having fun fishing and running about. But, the rain eventually disturbed Dennis to a point that he finally said, "I can't camp anymore unless we get a camper." We looked for a camper that we could afford which was a soft top 1950 era. We had a lot of fun as long as we didn't go to far north. But, a disturbing problem in the Redbridge congregation forced me into a situation that I could not dismiss as it involved an accusation, the accusation being from the daughter of Marion McKinnon Tricker that she had been assaulted by two males right after she got off of the school bus and the elders were told that they thought one of the males "with a penis" had resembled an Iris Wigle a woman without a penis. It is a serious charge which I didn't share with my husband. A police officer had called to see if there was an Iris Cutforth working as a bus driver on a particular day, attending a JW meeting on a particular night and hiring a babysitter in between. I was where I should be, driving a school bus twice a day, hiring a babysitter and being out in door to door and being at a JW meeting. It takes about twelve hours to drive up to North Baby from Amherstburg just one way without sleeping. Marion has been known to lie and to make up stories. But why? The why I will not address. We had a friend, Gary Belleau, who is quite useful with bolts and tools and he helped us to wire the trailer and to put a hitch on. As we were driving up to North Bay I watched the trailer sway back and forth as we went through the construction. We were not going to stop and in the construction which was down to the dirt and not gravel on the 400 Highway there was no place to stop.
"There is something wrong...I can feel it."
"It's just the bumps."
"No...there is something wrong."
"It's an old trailer."
"Should it be swaying like that?"
We had a backup in place...two chains on either side attached from trailer to the hitch.
Finally, we made it to Redbridge, down the Songis Road, and within a mile or two, the trailer fell off. The road was all sand and we looked and looked for the bolt to see if there was a way to reattach it.
"I can't find the bolt."
Neither of us could find the bolt. "I can understand a trailer flipping but how does a bolt fall off?"
Between our favourite campground is the newly constructed house belonging to Marion McKinnon. "Can I use your phone?" If she hadn't been home we would have continued walking with the kids to the next house or the campground itself. She invited us for supper and to "stay for the evening" with a smile. I didn't speak to her children about the call from my employee and I didn't speak to her about the Children's Aid calling me to inform me that "someone is trying to cause problems for you...so you best be warned." The worse of the Children's Aid's children would be rerouted to my bus and I would simply make them bus patrols and there would be no more problems from them. They would become model citizens as long as they behaved themselves they could order everyone on the bus to sit down and behave. It's just a matter or refocusing their energies more positively from bulling to bulling with permission.
I called Robert who lived at the end of Songis Road down the highway a bit. She knew that it wasn't me "it just looked like you". But, add this to the fact that Erin Brocovich tried to force Robert off his Redbridge land and home he built for himself around 1970 which forced him to call the North Bay police and it makes one wonder why Marion had chosen to live so closely to my brother.
1970
Robert had been missing and assumed lost in the bush down near the Wigle farm. "He went hunting."
I had in the car with me an army Mary Jo Kopchene issued rifle Robert would have a 303 with him. We had a code between us. Three shots when one is lost or hurt. I climbed up onto the top of the barn and pointed my rifle to the north...3 shots. If he had heard he would have fired 3 shots back. I made a circle listening in between the three shots repeated over and over and moved to the east. 3 shots, listen, 3 shots, listen...the sound carrying for several miles. It was just before a quarter of a circle that I heard him. Three shots came were fired back. I only fired back 2 shots when he returned 3 because he needed to review the direction and was still lost. I fired and eventually over and over again until we saw his form emerge from the bush.
He hadn't been talking to me and explained that he was angry that this Erin Brocovich had come onto his property with Marion and lawyers to give him five minutes to get off the property. Apparently, Erin and Marion had thought I had died and that they had inherited my properties and monies. But, I wasn't dead. And, I never gave monies to Robert. He had disowned me for associating with JWs. I never had taken a cheque for myself. My monies were to go to charities and the homeless and blind. Robert had taken out his rifle to shot out their tires so that they couldn't leave till the North Bay police arrived. He had to go to court to prove that he had paid for the property with his own money from being an employed person with a pay cheque. "You didn't come to court." I didn't know about court.
1970 - He recuperated from being lost and figured he would find the way out eventually. He was a hunter. It was not like he couldn't find food and build lodging. "We watched the Old Opre up here and we swore that was you on stage when the announcer said, Patsy Cline. It sure looked like you." He surveyed me over ..."you've put on a lot of weight." Yes, I had, gun shots to kidneys can put on a lot of weight.
And, we haven't camped since. Dennis is right. Hotels with waiters and stewardesses and lots of traffic is the way. Well, unless your in New York with Tony Randall and things can spring up now and then...like garbage strikes.
"I really need this job Elaine."

Did you go to summer camp? What is your favorite memory/story? If you didn't go to camp, do you feel like you missed out?
Submitted by chris.

Do you feel like you missed out by not going to summer camp? How can one who has been raised in the far deep northern bush of Canada miss out when one is in summer camp all year long? I  have camped in the summer...does that count? I am a camper in the city or out. In the summer of our London, Ontario, existence from the fall of 1984 to the fall of 2003, I would put up the tents in the backyard just to enjoy summer camp. That being that both tents could boost about a dozen or so campers. The back yard on Barkley Street went into a bush joining the yard filled with trees into one. For, the most part, the bush itself ran a course along one end of Barkley to the other until it was decided that it would be nice to have a real park for golfers, baseball players and soccer. That was when Grant brought home a bull dog called Radin. People who think fist first always pack the same type of gear it seems. And, Grant is not a golfer although he has gone golfing with his father taking along a Bible to read as he watched. Well, that was his pre-teen years. As he grew taller he realized one day that if he arched his brow up slightly, leaned forward, who could do a swaggart of an impersonation of Sean Connery. Golfing being out he was now into being just rude.
However, the puppy needed exercise and it was only then that I would walk the green. Smells have such strange effects. I was walking by the soccor posts and it was as if someone had been sleeping there the night before. "I know that smell." It was just a fleeting moment ever so gently and I bowed. How strange? Why would I have the urge to bow as if in a castle? I must have looked quite ridiculous.
Most of our camping was before the London move which would place camping with Dennis between 1971 and 1985. Dennis is NOT a camper. He is "a hotel person" complete with telly and golfing replays. However, for the sake of the children he did indeed try camping.
1973
We decided to go up for a visit to Robert. The ride for this joyous camping trip took what seemed all day. We had only one toddler...Carrie...a hyperactive child that campers had taken photos of walking around her crib as we enjoyed the shade and insects.
"and rain",
Yes, and rain. She was five months old. "I have never seen a child so young walk about like that." The climbing up onto things started at nine months and the turning on the TV to watch Sesame Street was at ten months. Despite all of this energy Carrie was a sickly child. She started vomiting up her foods at three months and continued with diahrea till she was two and a half. It was thought that she might be a cystic fibrous child. The smell of her diapers being one of the symptoms of CF. The smell was horrendous and after each change the diaper had to run outside. She was to be an artist. We knew this because if we didn't beat her to the diaper within minutes she had used her own feces to paint the walls. Today, she is in university for her masters in art so she can teach art.
1973 was a quiet visit. We knocked on the door said hello and off we were to another camp site. Robert Rae Wigle would not forgive me for remaining with the JW's. He remembered the Shirley Jane Temple time period. I was sleeping with the enemy. I don't know why he thought I would remember. It was the same for April Louise Wigle.
"You know what they did and you are still associating with them."
But, I didn't know what they did be it JWs or Hoovers or directors or actors in general. My conclusion of "what they did" was not the same as April's nor Roberts. I simply didn't remember.
I had visited Mr. ?Holt on a visit to LA and did a video on the visit to remember Charlie Palloy and for odd reasons the Dallas Bookstore. Did he call me for a visit?
He went to reach for my hand to hold it and said, "I know what they did to my daughter. I know what they did to you."
I couldn't stay. I couldn't speak. The air left my lungs. I pulled my hands away and literally left holding my hand on my stomache. Outside the prison I ran with my hands over my ears and vomited. I don't remember. And, I refuse to remember. I can't remember.
I returned that evening or the next day to borrow  Mr. Holt to do some art for me at one of the studios called "Cherokee  Amazing Grace" in memory of  John Tail.
My idea of camping is in the car on a day trip with Tim Horton's coffee cups piling up on the  floors and dashboards.
1974
The visit with Robert was longer the following year. He invited us into his home that he had built. Robert's idea of building homes is to pay cash - use a bucket for water until one can pay cash for a sink; use the outhouse until one can pay cash for a toilet; live inside without carpet and walls until one has the cash and the cost of the mortgage for the land will be much lower. He made his regular payments. Robert has always been trifty.
1952, Yankee Stadium, New York City
Tent City, Camping for the summer during a Jehovah's witness seven day convention.
"Robert?" inquired Uncle LJ (short for Lambert Joseph Jr), "do you have any money for supper?"
Robert did not respond. Robert is a emotional mute a trait picked up between 1950-1953 during prior visits to the USA. Robert had stopped speaking along the way. Elsie thought it may have been a virus or a high fever and was sent for hearing tests although truth be told she never actually saw him after separating from Mel. Another bone of contention between Robert and myself. One never is to mention her name.
"Here is a dollar go buy yourself food with it."
Robert accepted the dollar and placed it into his pant pocket. He spent his time walking the camp grounds picking up litter with a nail attached to a pole. He always was the volunteer type and did his part quietly. I would tag along or just go off listening to the prayers and discourses as I watched people and gathered stones. I prefer stones over gems they are much more interesting. I knew what I would buy with my money. It was the same every morning, cherry pie, ice cream and chocolate milk. Mel was usually constructing something somewhere.
Inside the family circus tent he was eventually confronted. "Mel, we have all been talking (all the aunts and uncles the Wigles and the James) and well, we don't think that you are paying enough attention to Robert and Iris. We don't have an awful lot of money...now we don't mind sharing...but we simply can't afford to look after our own needs and that of your children." LJ and Wellington went on to explain that they had been giving all week to those "youngins".
"Robert!?!"
Robert came forward reluctantly, slowly, to the center of the circle.
"Did they give you money?" Robert would never have asked for money. He nodded.
"Do you still have it?" He nodded.
"Can I see it?"
He pulled into his pant pockets and pulled out all the cash. Not one penny was missing. Robert is a saver. Always was...always will be. Myself, I had spent it on junk food. I didn't get to eat the food always. I would black out and wake up in the "first aid tent". I had the memory of an ice cream cone not eaten. And,  always missed it.
Mel decided to take us to the Yankee Stadium with him the next day in an effort to try to be a better father. Truth be told he just was never there. We didn't have a fridge on Springarten Road but he knew that we knew where the cupboards was which sometimes caused a roar of gossip now and then.
1954
"Do you have any food Iris? I am hungry?" complained Mary Finn, best next door friend on the road. We were in the middle of rehearsals for a jungle scene using old discarded car tires as canoes forging past alligators and hypos. Let's take a look. She looked everywhere for food. We found a handful of crackers.
"Let's have a mouse race?" I had insisted.
"A mouse race?"
"Yes, let's see if we can win the race by taking only bites the size of a mouse. Big bites would count as losing and the person that eats the smallest bites wins the race. Of course, to Mr. Dolittle, there is not a problem at all. There are trees with apples, pears, peaches, apricots and vines with two choices of grapes. How much food does a child need?
"She fell out of the upstairs window and your neighbours called the police because they thought someone was breaking in." What a ridiculous conclusion!?! Everyone on the road knew had a suspicion that the house was haunted. Why would anyone break in? Robert and April would make fudge for Halloween, put on the light, and no one would dare come in. Or, perhaps they thought that Mel Wigle might be about and even the police did not particularly like to visit. Mel never screamed. He would just smile and a whisper would come between his teeth.
"Are you accusing me of stealing my own children?"
"Oh no sir," replied the officer softly, "it's just my job to ask." The police officers hand's were trembling. End of conversation. Mel did not need a rifle in his hands. I remember the day that he had heard that children at the school had been beating on April and Robert and volunteer monitors from out of town had used a ruler on my legs to try to make me wiggle when the class had lined up to leave after lunch for the outside.
Mel simply walked into the principal's office, hoisted him up a foot or two against the blackboard and whispered ever so slightly, "if I hear of one more report about my kids being beaten up I'll be back!"
He was my hero that day.
Mel just didn't seem to fit in with this religious family but he was willing to try. Was he the right Randolph Scott? There was three or four and even I couldn't keep track? Whatever...he is the Mel Wigle that we knew.
1953 Yankee Stadium
A real nice minister had asked me on stage to interview me. They even bought me a real nice white dress. I was to answer a series of questions about growing up and about this and that. I had been told what to say which was very confusing.
I jumped up during the interview in front of possibly over fifty thousand people and yelled, "that's a lie!" And, ran off of the platform. Was it something to do with the year before? At one of the visits to go camping in the US for a religious convention Robert had decided to volunteer to sell ice cream. He thought it was rather funny if I was to touch the rock ice. Lesson learned...I will never touch rock ice again. He was told to keep an eye on me. He didn't roam far but after a while I simply had to use the washroom. Upon my return back, the crowds pushed me outside where Mr. Henschel spied me. "Are you lost?"
I wasn't sure which door to go in and thought maybe I should just stay still until the crowds piled out. He and his young male companion decided it was best that I go with them to a hotel shared with Nathan Knorr. He could lie all he wanted that I was not with them but he would lose. After all, I used my crayons to draw all over the sides and backs of the speech he was to give that week at the convention. The police had his briefcase and the fingerprints. It never pays not to tell the truth because there was a story and another story and another story which ended in a false charge of "prostitution". I was not a prostitute and neither were Robert nor April who may or may not have been with us on the first visit, that being, that April wasn't added until the funeral of the royal Mary, the death of the Dutchess of York that summer of 1953 and the disappearance of the King that was never reported. No one could go to the throne before the death of the Dutchess. And, Robert, April and myself refused to sign "abdication forms". If there had been less Germans at the funeral and if there had not been a bomb scare and if the Irish were not being beaten, imprisoned and executed on false charges, we may have had different views but we didn't.
Camping should have good memories. At one of the Yankee assemblies Mel had purchased Hawaiian shirts to wear. They were so colourful. Good Christians wore only white pressed shirts with ties but Mel wasn't quite like the others. They were beautiful shirts.
1974
"We're not staying long. We are camping for the assembly in Sault St. Marie."
That being said we headed towards Manitoland Island to say hi to a friend by the name of Susan and Virginia Smith who had left the fields of Blenheim for the quieter northern life. We were smart this year . We would purchase a tent up at the Canadian Tire  Store fifty miles from the camp ground.
"Where are the tent poles?"
"No tent poles?"
We had to drive back to ask. "Ahhh, I lent them to a friend."
With new tent poles we were eager to start our camping. The tent required the poles to be on the inside and Dennis ran out of steam and asked for his helper. Just to make sure that Carrie didn't get hurt I tied a long rope around her waist to dash in to  assist him.
"Where did she go?"
Using the mind that the Creator gave her Little Helper had taken off her diaper and was running amok nude as fast as her legs could take her. Never mind! Children are children. We enjoyed the nightover and visit, packed up and headed for real camping in the Sault.
"Honey are you sure that you don't want to get a site with electricity?"
No. If Dennis was to camp it would be real camping.
"Honey, do you want me to help you make the fire?"
No...Dennis had purchased wood at the place marked "wood for sale" and it had to be the best green wood on the lot. It was logs about five inches circumference and four to six feet long. This should be interesting? I was waiting patiently and watching looking at all the free wood surrounding our non electrical camp site. He groaned and looked up at me helplessly, "we could use some of the old grass and twigs....that might help." I was biting lip, "don't  help, don't order, don't say anything."
He heaved a sign and I would brave the insects while he cared for the toddler. However, I was the submissive wife type and dropped the kindling at his feet. Oh, could he make a fire now. He was going to cook supper...bacon and eggs...in a frypan which he had placed on top of two large green logs. With a roaring fire underneath...I waited.
"Would you like a beer...some wine?"  I did.
Kerplunk! "Would you like a cold hotdog and a beer?" Dennis doesn't drink beer or alcohol. A daily dose of caffiene fed on a regular basis is his choice of brew. It helps with the stress to up it up and up. Alcohol? Are you kidding me?
"Let's go to bed. We have to get up early for the assembly this time."
Good order. One from the south should remember two things. Don't visit Lambert Joseph's old homestead in Balsam Creek in May or June....black fly season. Horsefly season isn't until July and August and the other insects are there all the time when there is no snow.
As Dennis would put it, "these horseflys are as big as horses. And, they bite. Look it took off half of my skin."
"Are you sure you wouldn't want to see where I once lived?" Once had been enough.
And, the second thing is this, bring your longjohns. The temperature dips at nights. Now, life being life, Dennis and I rolled out of bed one after the other without giving much of a look and we were like ships passing in the night. He was first. As I saw him within sight of the tent I raced towards the toilets. I had noticed, as had he, that campers seem to be the friendliest sort of people, smiling widely with a morning greeting.
I stopped to look at the reflection in the mirror.
"Honey why was my face all black with soot?" The only part of my face not black was my eyelids.
"Well, you see honey, it was so cold last night I turned on the lantern and," he paused to shuffle his hips a little, "I guess I turned it up to high."
"Everyone was laughing at me."
"Me too. I said to myself why are those people smiling at me and when I looked into the mirror I realized why."
Hmmm? That being said we dressed for the assembly which brought a lot of happiness and interesting reactions because, you see, we had hung our clothes inside the tent and one side was black all the way down. One side clean and the other side black. It could happen to anyone.
"You could have killed us all."
"Too much oxygen."
Good thing.
We were able to get a cabin.
"Hey honey come take a looksee at this bloodsucker. I have never seen a bloodsucker this big. It's almost as big as an egg. Are you sure it is safe to swim in the water?"
"I'm sure."
"Keep still. They'll fall off when I hit them with a match."
"Ouch!"
"I don't understand it. They never bother me."
The following years were milder in form of amusement...mostly rain...with our dressing in green garbage bags from had to toe now and then but the kids having fun fishing and running about. But, the rain eventually disturbed Dennis to a point that he finally said, "I can't camp anymore unless we get a camper." We looked for a camper that we could afford which was a soft top 1950 era. We had a lot of fun as long as we didn't go to far north. But, a disturbing problem in the Redbridge congregation forced me into a situation that I could not dismiss as it involved an accusation, the accusation being from the daughter of Marion McKinnon Tricker that she had been assaulted by two males right after she got off of the school bus and the elders were told that they thought one of the males "with a penis" had resembled an Iris Wigle a woman without a penis. It is a serious charge which I didn't share with my husband. A police officer had called to see if there was an Iris Cutforth working as a bus driver on a particular day, attending a JW meeting on a particular night and hiring a babysitter in between. I was where I should be, driving a school bus twice a day, hiring a babysitter and being out in door to door and being at a JW meeting. It takes about twelve hours to drive up to North Baby from Amherstburg just one way without sleeping. Marion has been known to lie and to make up stories. But why? The why I will not address. We had a friend, Gary Belleau, who is quite useful with bolts and tools and he helped us to wire the trailer and to put a hitch on. As we were driving up to North Bay I watched the trailer sway back and forth as we went through the construction. We were not going to stop and in the construction which was down to the dirt and not gravel on the 400 Highway there was no place to stop.
"There is something wrong...I can feel it."
"It's just the bumps."
"No...there is something wrong."
"It's an old trailer."
"Should it be swaying like that?"
We had a backup in place...two chains on either side attached from trailer to the hitch.
Finally, we made it to Redbridge, down the Songis Road, and within a mile or two, the trailer fell off. The road was all sand and we looked and looked for the bolt to see if there was a way to reattach it.
"I can't find the bolt."
Neither of us could find the bolt. "I can understand a trailer flipping but how does a bolt fall off?"
Between our favourite campground is the newly constructed house belonging to Marion McKinnon. "Can I use your phone?" If she hadn't been home we would have continued walking with the kids to the next house or the campground itself. She invited us for supper and to "stay for the evening" with a smile. I didn't speak to her children about the call from my employee and I didn't speak to her about the Children's Aid calling me to inform me that "someone is trying to cause problems for you...so you best be warned." The worse of the Children's Aid's children would be rerouted to my bus and I would simply make them bus patrols and there would be no more problems from them. They would become model citizens as long as they behaved themselves they could order everyone on the bus to sit down and behave. It's just a matter or refocusing their energies more positively from bulling to bulling with permission.
I called Robert who lived at the end of Songis Road down the highway a bit. She knew that it wasn't me "it just looked like you". But, add this to the fact that Erin Brocovich tried to force Robert off his Redbridge land and home he built for himself around 1970 which forced him to call the North Bay police and it makes one wonder why Marion had chosen to live so closely to my brother.
1970
Robert had been missing and assumed lost in the bush down near the Wigle farm. "He went hunting."
I had in the car with me an army Mary Jo Kopchene issued rifle Robert would have a 303 with him. We had a code between us. Three shots when one is lost or hurt. I climbed up onto the top of the barn and pointed my rifle to the north...3 shots. If he had heard he would have fired 3 shots back. I made a circle listening in between the three shots repeated over and over and moved to the east. 3 shots, listen, 3 shots, listen...the sound carrying for several miles. It was just before a quarter of a circle that I heard him. Three shots came were fired back. I only fired back 2 shots when he returned 3 because he needed to review the direction and was still lost. I fired and eventually over and over again until we saw his form emerge from the bush.
He hadn't been talking to me and explained that he was angry that this Erin Brocovich had come onto his property with Marion and lawyers to give him five minutes to get off the property. Apparently, Erin and Marion had thought I had died and that they had inherited my properties and monies. But, I wasn't dead. And, I never gave monies to Robert. He had disowned me for associating with JWs. I never had taken a cheque for myself. My monies were to go to charities and the homeless and blind. Robert had taken out his rifle to shot out their tires so that they couldn't leave till the North Bay police arrived. He had to go to court to prove that he had paid for the property with his own money from being an employed person with a pay cheque. "You didn't come to court." I didn't know about court.
1970 - He recuperated from being lost and figured he would find the way out eventually. He was a hunter. It was not like he couldn't find food and build lodging. "We watched the Old Opre up here and we swore that was you on stage when the announcer said, Patsy Cline. It sure looked like you." He surveyed me over ..."you've put on a lot of weight." Yes, I had, gun shots to kidneys can put on a lot of weight.
And, we haven't camped since. Dennis is right. Hotels with waiters and stewardesses and lots of traffic is the way. Well, unless your in New York with Tony Randall and things can spring up now and then...like garbage strikes.
"I really need this job Elaine."