August, 1970

In late summer of 1970 toilet training isn’t going well and despite the many efforts to get me to go to the ‘big toilet’ I am still pretty much obstinately committed to using my Johnny Jr. But this month, more important than my toilet training, is the family returning for a visit to our home town. My parents want to check out the old house and then go to the cottage for the traditional family vacation. My oldest sister is only a few weeks away from leaving the province to go to university and this would most likely be the last family vacation she would be joining us on.

We are taking the steamer back to our home town and on Bay Roche’s newly expanded wharf – thanks to the fish processing plant – we all waited. While the steamer line was a favoured way to travel for most of the locals, the service was not known for it punctuality. Today, it meant an hour of waiting and during the delay passengers had a choice of either milling about the wharf or going inside the tiny steamer line office which contained a purser’s window where one bought their tickets, a wooden banquette, and what was even then an ancient Coke machine which still functioned. With her kids getting increasingly restless and some still too young to wander about a potentially dangerous wharf, my mother decided that it would be best to sit in the steamer line office. It wouldn’t be too long from now that me and some other young kids would hang out on the wharf on our own. The steamer line had the only coke machine in town and the price was half of that at the store. Also, the wharf would be where a horse would nearly chew off my right pointer finger in a couple of years. But for now we waited for the big blue and white passenger boat to pull in and dock. 24 hours later, be back in our home town.

My mother was elated back in her town. Her best friend and neighbour greeted us at the wharf and was literally hopping with excitement to see my mother again. At the house, we all spilled out of the neighbour’s car and my father unlocked the front door, proceeded into the cellar, turned the electricity back on and opened the old valves that fed the water pipes. The house creaked and rattled back to life as the water found its way through the piping. Blinds were lifted and curtains pulled back and a spirited energy once again filled the rooms. Home, for everyone, does not only mean a specific place but also a particular time, never duplicated just emulated.

Summertime traveling music in 1970
Get it On (Bang a Gong) by T Rex (with Elton John helping out)