The Reunion

Photos

Photo props by Lise Lefebvre Campbell

I arrived back at the motel shortly after 2:00 p.m., a little tired from sitting in the wind for several hours at the top of the double decker bus. I quickly changed my clothes and headed to the motel's front desk, where I met up with Gary Pickering, who was registering for the night. The afternoon was sunny and warm by this time, so I had a chance to have a quick beer outside with Gary, his wife Jane, Maureen and Myles Prince, a fellow 1967 De La Salle graduate.

The "rencontre" was masterminded by the incomparable Lady Di, Diane Gingras, and her efficient and creative second-in-command, Lise Lefebvre Campbell. The event venue was La Loge, located in a sports complex, overlooking a large sheet of ice -- a suitable venue for a Temiscaming crowd raised in and around "the arena". The sound of laughter and animated conversation greeted us as we approached the registration area, ably manned by "le Bob à Diane Gingras", Robert Neveu.

Lorraine Theberge and Nicole Heroux

Last year I felt a little nervous, wondering if anyone would remember me. After all, I left for McGill in 1967, and was gone except for brief visits home after the fall of 1969. This year was different, particularly since many of us keep track of one another on Facebook or by email. Less catch-up; more comfortable.

Lorraine Violette Cusson, Lise Laframboise Raymone, Lise Presseault

The class of 1967 was well represented: Marcia Belisle, Nicole Heroux, Hillary Hogan Guindon, Lise Laframboise Raymond, Charles Mallette, Linda O'Rourke, John Presseault, Lise Presseault, Myles Prince, Doreen Raymond Meunier, Lorraine Violette Cusson. I may be wrong by a year on some of these, and it's possible that I left out a few '67 attendees.. Some notable by their absence and very much missed: Maureen Brophy, Joan Fink, Suzanne Collins Simpson, Josette McCann, Louise Nadon, the Rathwells, the Pharands ... many others. I would have liked to be joined by my siblings, Steve Ryan, Marilyn Ryan Marshall, Allan Ryan.

Some of my favorite visits were with people I hadn't seen since high school, including Hillary Hogan, Denyse Théberge-Rousselet, Denise Proulx Almquist, Adele Landriault Guindon. This is a little like speed-dating so there's not really enough time to have rally good conversations -- we had just long enough to know that I wanted "more". I was amazed, not for the first time, at the many paths our lives have taken since we left our little town. We seem to be successful, well-rounded people, faithful spouses, good parents. I felt honored to spend this joyful evening among friends.

I felt the quirky pleasure of not being the "smartest kid in the class" anymore, though some did bring up past academic success. It felt good to be somewhat ordinary in very extraordinary company.

A Quick Tour of Ottawa

Parliament Hill

Photos
I woke up Saturday morning a little grumpy from a poor night's sleep, missing my cheerful, gregarious husband. A cup of coffee did wonders and I felt ready for continental breakfast in the reception area of the motel. I rather enjoyed sitting quietly by myself, watching the light rain with a pretty good cup of coffee, so-so bagel and juice.

Rideau Canal

I figured I had about four hours before I had to get ready for the big Temiscaming party. On the advice of the front desk clerk, I took a cab rather than the bus to downtown Ottawa. $15 plus tip, and I got the same driver booked for 7:00 a.m. airport run the next morning. Bought a hop on, hop off city tour and walked around a little, looking for an Ottawa Senators cap for Chris. Took a few photos and was feeling a little weary by the time I boarded the bus at noon. The lovely tour guide, Hélène from New Brunswick, did a great job with her fluent and fluid bilingual commentary.

It was quite windy on the top of the double-decker bus and the skies looked threatening for most of two hours. I enjoyed seeing the Rockcliffe area of Ottawa, where I had walked many miles in the late 70s during my brief stint working on Parliament Hill in the West Block, now being restored. It was fun to hear the blurb about 24 Sussex Drive, the Prime Minister's residence, and gossipy notes on various embassies and historic places.

Motel Adam

View of Motel Adam from my doorstep

Photos

Diane dropped me off at the Motel Adam on boulevard Greber in Gatineau. It is built on the “old model”, with many units surrounded by ample parking, with a space in front of each unit.

The interior is nicer that the outside would suggest, with a natural brick wall  running the length of the hotel room, a newer Queen bed, remodeled bathroom, flatscreen TV – TV reception was poor and definitely not high def. The wifi is billed as “highspeed” but it’s not, especially for one spoiled by very fast connectivity at home. It is a little desolate and quiet for just one person.

Simple but nice "superior" room

I walked about a mile to a strip mall to the north and found a liquor store, where I bought a bottle of scotch. After a fast food chicken sandwich at Burger King, I came home and poured myself a drink. Life almost instantly seemed a little rosier.

The Gentlemen’s Club across the street might be a draw for some, perhaps while their lady friends shop at the “erotic boutique” a few blocks away. The street seems a little shabby, much like avenue Mont-Royal was 40 years ago when I lived in the now chic Plateau Mont-Royal.

2014 - Ottawa on a Clear September Day

Photos

Here I am again, in Ottawa for the annual Temiscaming get-together. I think of this as a “hometown reunion”, with a rather eclectic mix of ages and connections to my birthplace.

I spent much of the day traveling after leaving the house at 7:00 a.m. To my surprise, I was on the new TSA fast-track system, and I went through security without having to remove my laptop or my shoes. Just like pre-9/11, except that systems are more efficient today and I was at the gate well in advance of boarding for the 8:45 flight. We were in Detroit by 11, so I had a 3 hours to make my connection. Time for lunch and a walk around that very pleasant airport.

I chatted all the way to Ottawa with my very interesting seat companion, a software developer who has a Minnesota client, also an acquaintance of mine. My friend Diane Gingras picked me up at the airport and we visited happily through the very congested Friday afternoon traffic.

I had the feeling that I was home ... but not home. Happy to be in Canada but returning as a visitor, with a sense of "limited" belonging.

Ten Days Later ...

I was sick all last week but have been feeling progressively better since Monday. I felt very tired most of this week, but this morning was well enough to do some yard work. I think I've learned a lesson from the shortened Canadian adventure.

While I thought that I was spacing out activities very nicely, my principal error was thinking that I could combine an emotionally intense reunion with a visit to Montreal. Even if I had been feeling fine, the Ottawa weekend would have been enough of an undertaking.

When I get a cold, I'm always much sicker than most people, for a longer period of time. I also can't discount the effect of MS on my energy level, even on my best days. The fatigue I've been experiencing this week feels MS-related, rather than the aftermath of a cold.

I'm still sorry I had to come home early, but I'm glad I didn't try to make it to Montreal. Hindsight suggests that there's no need to regret my decision.

Self Diagnosis: Dehydration

Despite all the instruction from friends to see a doctor today, I didn't do so. Instead, I drank water.

I realized yesterday that I felt a little better with every glass of water, and the penny gradually dropped. Dehydration. Looked up the Mayo Clinic info when I got home, and it seemed clear that I was quite, but not severely, dehydrated.

The combination of lots of talking in a noisy environment and insufficient water worked havoc on my throat and vocal chords. I have hardly spoken at all for nearly 72 hours, and am only now beginning to fear close to recovery.

My throat isn't sore anymore but it still feels very dry, so I'll spend the evening with lots of water. I've felt physically exhausted most of that time as well, but am now feeling somewhat stronger.

Tomorrow I think I'll  feel better.

Technology and Travel

Technology has made all travel much easier. Because of free wi-fi in airports, I was able to amuse myself writing, talking on FB, and working a little on photos. In Toronto, I sat at the gate and was amused to hear comments about the small amount of seating. In fact, there was lots of seating, but the gate morphed into a bar area, where food and beverages could be ordered from the iPads at every table.

I observed for a few minutes, and realized that ordering wasn't mandatory. I sat at a table, plugged in my laptop for a charge, and used the iPad for flight and weather information, sports scores, world news, and ... St. Paul obituaries. It was very comfortable, and so nicely configured. Easy to delete any personal information at the end of a session. I was in heaven!

I know the "radiation machines" for people scanning at security checkpoints are controversial, but I like them. The knee replacements are great, but a hassle at airports, so I love the machines. For some reason, none of the four security checkpoints on this trip had their machines in operation, and I was patted down each time. All very efficient and professional, but very time consuming and inefficient. I would have been happy to use the machines. Chances are I'm not going to die of radiation poisoning.

Airport Sunday

I rarely miss Mass but I just couldn't go out yesterday morning, and I just wasn't up to looking for mass in either the Ottawa or Toronto Pearson airport. And, although I dreaded spending my Sunday in airports, I felt better as the day progressed so it turned out all right in the end.

I arrived at the Ottawa airport shortly afternoon and was immediately taken by the light, open feeling in that pleasant building. Although my flight wasn't scheduled to leave until 4:00 p.m., I decided to go through security right away and be done with it. By this time, I was a little hungry as I hadn't had much to eat since Friday evening, so I checked out the eating establishments and ended up at D'Arcy McGee's Irish Pub, mostly because several football games were on and I thought I might as well torture myself by watching the Vikings (Cleveland 31, Vikings 27).

The food (Caesar salad, French onion soup) was fine but overpriced, as was the Guinness ($8.95!), but most of the people (all men) at the bar had long layovers and just wanted to watch one, or all of the games, so it was a fun atmosphere. I still couldn't talk much so watching sports was just fine with me. Topped up the Guinness with a Starbucks skinny latte.

The plane left about 30 minutes late, so I was dragging by the time we arrived in Toronto in brilliant late afternoon sunshine. On the way to YYZ, I read about navigating airport connections, and learned that they are color coded at Pearson. I followed the purple signs toward the F gates, where all flights to the US originate, and had no trouble. I was intrigued by a semi-automated customs and immigration screening (Steps 1 through 3), that eliminated the need to physically collect a checked bag and personally carry it to the belt for the connecting flight.

The YYZ-MSP flight left promptly at 8:25 and arrived two hours later. I had a row to myself on the plane and treated myself to a Johnny Walker Red, which did wonders for the throat. Arrived home tired but feeling little the worse for wear. Bob picked me up and I was home shortly after 10, happy to plop down exhausted in my own bed.

Sick!

On Friday evening, I had a bad sore throat after I arrived back at the hotel and by morning, I could barely talk. I felt OK, though, and my only disappointment was that the day of glorious photo ops was simply not going to happen. No matter; nothing I can do about the weather.

I dropped into the “deluxe lounge” at the hotel for evening appetizers and decided that I wouldn’t need dinner, so I went back to my room to call Bob. By this time, I was really hoarse and not feeling very well. My throat was raw and I could feel my pulse on both sides, something I remember after my tonsils were removed over a half century ago.

I was exhausted but couldn’t sleep very well because of the pain, and awoke whimpering from a fitful sleep just before 3:00 a.m. I instantly knew that I wouldn’t make it to Montreal on this trip. I struggled to change my reservation by calling Air Canada; not a happy experience with laryngitis. The 72-hour change in my reservation cost me $539, and I was grateful that it wasn’t $1,000. I contacted my friend Kathe Lieber via email to let her know I wouldn’t be celebrating her birthday with her after all. Similar email and/or FB messages to 7 other people. I lay down for a couple of hours and then got up.

Under normal circumstances, I would have gone for a swim Sunday morning but I didn’t have the energy to do so. I did a little writing and some work on my photos, and left for the airport just after checkout at noon. The day went surprisingly well but I fell into bed right after unpacking my bag, and didn’t get up till morning.

Canadian War Museum

The Canadian War Museum was "kind of" on my radar, but I was very tempted to go to the National Gallery to see some of my favorite paintings. In the end, the War Museum won out on this rainy day. It was the right choice.

The address at 1 Vimy Place memorializes the WWI Battle of Vimy Ridge, a "defining moment" in Canadian military history, when Canada showed its military power, independently of Britain. At great cost, of course. When my grandparents lived in one of the Vetville apartments for veterans in Chateauguay in the late 1950s, the buildings were named after famous battles of the First World War. I think their building was "Arras", named for the Battle of Arras, which also figures prominently in Canadian military history. I can't seem to find an online reference to Vetville, but I think there was a Vimy building in that complex as well.

Wedidng pics at the museum

The foyer in the large building seems to be a site for wedding pictures. I saw two wedding parties while I was there, and the venue somehow seemed oddly appropriate for these young couples, who are of the age of many of the soldiers and their families featured in the exhibit.

The museum project must have been very daunting, as it covers five thousand years of Canadian military history, all the way back to First Nations warfare long before the arrival of Europeans. The guide advised me to start with the Peace Exhibition, a largely interactive exhibit that draws visitors of all ages. I saw children add ribbons to two panels decorated with ribbons of many colors of "peace".

I loved seeing Canadian military history integrated into the continuum of Canadian history. The fortress of Louisbourg, the Battle of the Plains of Abrahm, the War of 1812 all seemed so clear to me, probably for the first time. I felt that I understood the strategy and errors of Generals Montcalm and Wolfe, both of whom died in the battle that forever changed the history of North America.


The Bomber Command section (WWII) was a little disappointing to me, because there wasn't much on my dad's Wellington bomber. It was sobering to read that 25% of Canadian casualties were in Bomber Command, so it's no wonder that neither of my parents expected my dad's return from the war.

The museum's treatment of the Cold War communicated the deep Canadian yearning for peace, and Québec's longstanding distrust of the British war machine. Most interesting to me was the inclusion of the "Trudeau Years" and, especially, the imposition of the War Measures Act during the October Crisis of 1970. So long ago, yet still etched into my mind are images of soldiers on Mount Royal, and troups stationed on the street corners of Montreal.

I left the museum at about 4:30. It wasn't raining too much then, and I felt that I needed a walk. The sky soon emptied on me, leaving me with sopping hair and a wet jacket.

A Wet Saturday

A wet, wet day. I got soaked -- all the way down to my underwear (TMI) -- in the morning on the walk back from visiting my friend's daughter and her family, and dried my clothes by hanging them up in the shower and ironing them dry. I'm not a frequent ironer, and I had trouble taking down the ironing board. I had a vision of breaking the locking mechanism and having to pay for a new ironing board when I checked out. I turned the board upside down and finally figured out the process, but not before hitting myself in the chin with one of the feet.

Got the clothes dry and dressed to go out on my planned hop on-hop off bus tour. It was raining so hard that I decided to have a bite of lunch at Tim Horton's, just off the lobby of the hotel. By this time, my throat was getting quite sore, so I had a cup of hot broccoli cheddar soup for lunch, hoping that it would soothe the pain, which it did, even though the soup itself wasn't very good.

Time for Plan B. I could see the Canadian War Museum from my room, and would normally have walked, but decided to take a cab. A very good idea, because it was raining hard by then, and I wasn't too keen on visiting a museum soaking wet.

I did walk home though, and for the second time that day, I was wet, cold and miserable.

Beautiful Baby

Sheryl and I lived across the hall from each other as first-year McGill students who lived in residence at Royal Victoria College. She left McGill after three years and went to law school in Toronto, and we lost touch until a few years ago when the Internet gave us the opportunity to reconnect.

We shared an apartment for a weekend two years ago when we attended a McGill reunion, and I rejoiced with her and her husband when they became grandparents fifteen months ago. Today, I met Sheryl's beautiful daughter and her family at their home, about a twenty-minute walk from my hotel.

The baby is even more delightful in person than I imagined from the dozens of Facebook photos I've seen. She's a spirited little red-headed imp:

Sheryl's Granddaughter

Reunion Highlights

La gang de Temiscaming

 

I felt a little trepidation as we walked into Mon Resto for the reunion dinner. Forty-six years is a long time. Lots of water -- maybe too much? -- under the bridge. I was a little nervous that my few days of "thinking in French" and occasionally listening to Radio-Canada would restore my fluency to an acceptable level.

I soon realized that though years had passed, people were very recognizable. Unique voices, facial expressions, little mannerisms resurfaced and instantly identified the teenagers they were the last time we met. Among the pleasures of the evening:,

• The organization skills and big, outgoing personality of Diane Gingras who hosted the event with Lise Lefebvre Campbell. The Gingras family was well represented, with Richard Gingras and Louise Gingras Robinson. Big treat to see the Gingras matriarch, Madame Laurette Gingras, looking so well and fit.
• Lise Lefebvre Campbell, who took fabulous pictures of all us us.
• Lorraine Théberge, who is even more energetic and expressive than she was forty years ago.
• The contingent from the old nighbourhood above the pipeline, where I lived till I was twelve. Two of the Raymond sisters, Valera and Doreen, now Meunier; Pat Vaillancourt, whose brother Bucky was a grade school classmate; Dixie (Lee) Merleau Mainville; the McGowan twins, Beatrice Paquin and Leatrice McGowan.
• My guitar teacher, Glenn Mathieu, and his wife, Louise Raymond Mathieu, who lived in a lower level apartment when they were newlyweds.
• Edward Hospodar and his lovely Chatham wife, Betty, one of the many connections to New Brunswick in town when I was growing up.
• Grade school classmates Lorraine Violette Cusson, Louise Benoit, Lise Laframboise Raymond, Marcia Belisle, Nicole Heroux Gregoire.
• High school classmates Suzanne Collins-Simpson and Linda O'Rourke.
• Ski club stories with Pierre Racine.
• Thorne catch-up with Bob Simpson, Suzanne Collins' husband. Bob provided news of the Pharands, the Floreys,
• Talking with Suzanne Guindon-Vaillancourt, the daughter of Sylvio Guindon, my high school chemistry teacher. I told Suzanne that I still quote her dad on marriage: "You don't just marry the person; you marry the whole family".
• Brenda Young Rannou and her husband, Bob Rannou, whose voice and demeanor are so much like his dad's.
• Annette and Couch Moreau, whom I didn't really know in Temiscaming but I've followed their FB adventures for several years.
• Everyone I talked with! I enjoyed catching up with you. I'm in awe of the lives you've lived and the people you've become.

Among those we missed were Denise Proulx-Almquist and Kent Almquist, as well as several other expected guests who turned around at Deep River because a fatal accident closed the highway for most of Friday. Tragically, the victim was from Temiscaming and a close relative of one of the attendees. The accident will forever color otherwise very happy memories of a fantastic evening.

Good Friend

Over the last couple of years I've gotten to know some people from my hometown better than I ever knew them when we lived in the same town. Lise Lefebvre is one of them.

Lise is a couple of years younger than I am so our paths didn't cross in school, except incidentally. Turns out, though, that we both love photography and I've enjoyed seeing Lise's beautiful photographs of her family, gardens, unusual shapes and textures, sunsets, waterscapes, full moons and other interesting scenes.

Lise came into the city to pick me up for the Temiscaming reunion and she drove me back to the hotel after it ended at about 10:00 p.m. She is even more delightful in person than she is on Facebook.

Delta Hotel - Ottawa Centre



View from my room. Ottawa River in the distance.

I left our house in St. Paul shortly before 4:30 a.m. Friday morning. Bob dropped me off at the airport, which wasn't at all busy at that time of day. My 6:10 a.m. flight to Ottawa was very light, so I had a row to myself and got to see the sun rise as we flew east to Toronto. I really don't like Pearson airport, but I've got to know it reasonably well and I managed to find my way through customs & immigration and to my gate, with only a few wrong turns. Fortunately I remembered that I had to retrieve my checked bag in Toronto and carry it myself to the conveyor belt for the Ottawa flight.
Taxi downtown was not cheap but well worth the money, as I was a little travel wear when I got out of the airport at about 11:30. The day was sunny and hot when I arrived at Delta City Centre to check in. I had requested an early check-in, but this really was a little early, and sure enough, my room wasn't ready yet.

View from my 25th floor window at the Delta



My comfortable room

Luck was on my side. I was upgraded to a deluxe King on the 25th floor, with a great view. Free breakfast and appetizers in the evening. The great room refreshed me so I went out for a walk in the sunshine. Stopped at Starbucks a couple of blocks away and people-watched as I enjoyed my coffee.

Rencontre des anciens de Témiscaming - Hometown Reunion

About a year ago, I was very tempted by the annual get-together of former residents of my hometown of Temiscaming, Quebec, but I was still working then and would have used up several vacation days for an evening with people I haven't seen for nearly half a century.

I left home on a late September day in 1967. My mother drove me North Bay in the morning fog, where I could take the train from the west to Montreal. She was terrified by the possibility of traffic on an empty Highway 63, and I grieved for her in the silence of our Sunday journey. I did not look forward to college, but I did like the idea of leaving my hometown behind. No more small town chitchat or people knowing what I would order at the Boulevard or pick up at the Dominion Store. I would slip easily into big city life and no one would care what I did, or when I did it.

Time passed, but I didn't begin to appreciate my roots until I married in 1983 and moved to Saint Paul, Minnesota, a big small town on the prairies of the Midwest. The lakes, rivers and forests of Minnesota reminded of the hometown I'd left a decade and a half earlier. Several years ago, Facebook provided the opportunity for an online community, but there's nothing to beat in person connections.

With some trepidation, I signed up for annual Temiscaming reunion, held in the Gatineau area so many former residents now call home.