Tomorrow is fathers day, or as they say in Chelmsford "the most confusing day of the year". My own father passed away in 1992. There isn't a day that I don't think about him. He was from the "Great Generation"......you know, the generation that survived the Depression and fought the Second World War. He was a product of his generation when it came to parenting. He didn't have to live vicariously through his kids and allowed you to make your own mistakes...........yet, when you needed him, he was there.
Born in 1918 in a log cabin near Porquis Junction (30 km east of Timmins) to a Welsh Mother and a (very) English Father, he was the third child of five. I have a picture of him when he was 16, digging out the basement (by hand) of my Grandparents new home in South Porcupine.
In Sept. of 1939 he enlisted in the Ontario Tank regiment and was sent overseas. He was involved in all the major invasions....North Africa....Sicily......Normandy, and the liberation of Holland.
After the war ended, he returned home to South Porcupine, married and raised a family.
He started working in the mines of Timmins shortly after. Working conditions were primitive and little concern was given to dust control. In 1968 he was diagnosed with Silicosis. This would have stopped most people in their tracks, but not him. He could have continued to work in the mines and probably died 5 or 10 years later but wisely opted to work for the Maintenance Dept. of the newly opened Regional Hospital, where he retired in 1983.
What can you say about a Father who was always willing to help out and thought of his family first. A Man whom I always looked up to, but never fully appreciated what he did until I was older........ Thanks Dad. I miss you.
Pool Temp: 22c (72f)
Life was a lot simpler when what we honored was father and mother rather than all major credit cards. - Robert Orben
