Welcome to Sunday evening, boys and girls.
I didn't have to go out today. A young man down the street cleaned out my driveway, and did not have to clean off my car because the rain had already done so. Money very well spent.
I will be jumping in the shower shortly, but before I do that, I want to have the second part of my "reminiscing" series. Remember that this is the series in which I discuss stuff that happened from when I was very young in the hope of getting questions raised by those things, answered. The first entry in this series, last month, got quite a bit of discussion on my Facebook. I hope this segment does, too.
I was in the Valley this past weekend, to take care of a few things. Because of the storm we were warned about ad nauseum, I returned earlier than I would have liked. Had I been able to remain as long as I had wanted to, I almost certainly would have driven my car around Starr's Point, an area that runs off the main street of Port Williams at a street called the Starr's Point Road, until such road becomes Church Street. And don't ask me why a "road" becomes a "street". One was supposed to run north to south; and the other, east to west. It means silly things like this happen, where one item becomes another just because the direction of the road/street/whatever changes.
The area's called Starr's Point, I like to think, for two reasons. First of all, the Starr family was very well known a hundred and more years ago, and lived in that area. Secondly, and perhaps fittingly, the road has such sharp turns and twists that one can imagine them as points on a star. The Starr's Point Cemetery remains to this day and has many people in the Starr family buried there. It is still in use as well; Harold Legge, he of Legge Transport, is buried there, for example.
As I drive past Prescott House, right around the point where the road becomes Church Street, I look down the road at that intersection and wonder if the people who live in the house 2 or 3 houses in from Church Street, know that a man took his life in that house some 35 years ago. I wonder if they know that a man killed himself with his hunting rifle in the kitchen while his daughter and her friend were playing upstairs. And I wonder, as well, if anyone reading this knows the circumstances behind this man's death? My father certainly remembered the incident. I could probably ask my mother about it. But does anyone here reading this remember who this man was, and what caused him to be so distraught that he would elect to do what he did?
Many of you know that I went to senior high school, Grades 10-12, at Cornwallis District High School in Canning. I graduated in 1982. No point in lying about the year. But in... 1986, I believe it was, there was a standoff in the Canning area. A young man, a few years my senior I guess, was holed up in his home with a gun, and terrorised the community until a resolution was reached. I am being circumspect here because I do not recall how it all shook down, nor all that happened that summer. I am pretty sure it was resolved peacefully, but will not swear to it. Who was this guy? What happened to him? Why did he decide to start a standoff? What became of him?
And, lastly for this time, how come Debbie Eaton didn't go out with me? I practically hired a plane to fly over her house and have it pull a sign behind it professing my love for her. Nothing. I never recovered from that. Sob!
Can anyone answer my fine questions? Help a Bevboy out.
See you tomorrow.