NOTES FROM THE SCOTCH COLONY
A love affair from Melbourne to NB
by Robert LaFrance
Sitting on
my front porch two days ago, I was surprised to see my former friend Hartley
Cucumber driving his Gremlin up our front driveway. It was the same Gremlin he
bought new in 1978, the last year of its production, under the theory that a
car that ugly must be mechanically sound. Apparently he was right.
(I say
‘former friend’ not because we’ve been enemies all these years but because I
haven’t seen him since 1981 when I moved from Tilley to Birch Ridge.)
“And there
you are sitting by your barbie the same as you were when I last saw you,” he
commented, once he had negotiated his exit from the ancient vehicle. After
greetings and his explaining that a ‘barbie’ was a barbecue, we got caught up
on old times, of which we didn’t have many.
One major
reason for that was that he had emigrated to Melbourne, Australia in 1978 and
within ten years was a millionaire – in those days considered rich – and
decided to write back home to New Brunswick and ask the love of his life to
join him in Australia.
Within two
weeks that love was travelling the streets of Melbourne and, in spite of its
ugliness, was drawing ‘oohs’ and ‘aws’ from pedestrians and other humans. You
will have guessed by now that the love of his life was not a woman, but his
1978 Gremlin that had resided in a barn in Tilley all the while Hartley was
making his bundle.
“Esmie is a
beauty, ain’t she cobber?” he said to me, and I had no polite choices to use as
an answer.
“It’s a
historical marvel,” I said. “Did you get it brought over to Canada on a ship?”
“Oh no,” he
was appalled. “Esmerelda went to Melbourne by ship in 1990, but it took years
for her to forgive me for her seasickness. This time I leased a Boeing 747
freight plane and rode with her all the way from Melbun to Halifax. We’ll never
be separated again. I tried three or maybe it was four – marriages to actual
women but they didn’t work out. Now I’m going to settle down in Canada and just
drive Esmerelda around.”
And there,
my friends, is the story of a fanatic. We ‘got caught up’ on what’s been going
on in Victoria County, NB, since 1981 and wished each other farewell after a
long hiatus. “I just have to stop in Perth at the post office and then head up
Tobique for a bit of a rest,” he said as he and Esmerelda were about to back
out of the driveway.
About two
hours later my friend the Perfessor came by and the first words out of his
mouth were: “Too bad about that Gremlin that got demolished in town. A
tractor-trailer driver, coming down Route 105 because the Florenceville bridge
was closed, got confused and ran right over the top of that Gremlin while it
was parked near Beech Glen Road.”
I didn’t
tell the Perfessor about Hartley and the love of his life but I felt bad about
the Gremlin. It was flattened, according to the Perfessor, to about the size of
a TimBit.
But I
didn’t reckon with the determination of a fanatical millionaire. Exactly one
month later a 1978 Gremlin with a fresh paint job pulled into our driveway.
Hartley, beaming like Donald Trump after a successful trip to Mcdonalds and the
bathroom, got out and said: “Esmerelda is back!”
*******************
After that
exhausting story of Esmerelda and her prince, I will now turn the subjects of
this column to various pieces about life in Victoria County, NB.
Back when I
was growing up, or trying to grow up, in the 1950s (I was born in 1948) our
family would always attend the South Tilley Fair to see the many agricultural
exhibits, to play games, meet neighbours and go to the Saturday night dance in
the hall that burned a few decades ago.
As many
readers of this column know, about eight years ago I started a Facebook page
called ‘Old Photos of Victoria County’ and today it has about 4600 members.
There are thousands of photos, but very very few of the South Tilley Fair
events. I wish people reading this column would take a look at their old photos
and see if they have any they would submit.
I have had
the same problem, only worse, with getting photos and stories about the old
Silver Slipper dance hall, now a private residence, that is located in lower
Perth. It used to have a large silver slipper (Coincidence? I think not) on the
peak of its roof. I think the Hafford family used to own it at one time and one
of them still has that slipper somewhere.
*********************
Years ago a
man named Raymond Sisson of upper Arthurette was known to some as The Burdock
Man and for good reason. He would drive around the county and either cut all
the burdocks he saw along the road or go see the landowner and ask him or her
to get out there with shears or dynamite and get rid of the pesky plants.
The first
time he stopped here I scoffed a bit until I realized he was serious. Then I
saw he had a large clump of burdocks in the back of his vehicle. I could tell
he hadn’t cut them because their roots are very sweet (which they are) but to
help beautify New Brunswick. Raymond, now gone, was going a good thing although
most people didn’t realize it.
end
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