HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1975-09-10, Page 6Something to Say
by Nancy Andrews
First impressions weren't lasting
Throughout my summer in
Seaforth, everybody and his
brother hasi asked how I liked
the town. Knowing this to be
dangerous ground, I avoided
answering other than by vague
generalitites.
Since this is my last week with
the Expositor I thought I could
risk telling about a few of my
impressions of Seaforth. I've got
my suitcases packed anyway.
The editor, Susan White adver-
tised for the postion of summer
reporter at the University of
Western Ontario in London,
where I was just completing my
third year., I'd applied at the
Globe and Mail, at the Toronto
Star, and by this time, through
the process of elimination, things
Were definitely looking bleak.
When I saw the name Seaforth,
a picture of beach balls and sun
tans must have flashed through
my mind, because I applied.
My interview was in April, the
week of the big snowstorm. Not
having a car, I had to come when I
could get a ride. Slowly the car
inched the stretch of road from
Kippen to Seaforth. The wind was
blowing the snow across the
deserted highway.
Then, we came to Seaforth! It's
hard to believe how bad it looked
to me that Saturday. Just coming
from the barren stretch of high-
Way, Seaforth seemed like a
settlement in the middle of no
man's land.
The dirty snow piled high, the
cars slushing along, the old
buildings, this town, I thought to
myself, is on its way down.
So, if SusanWhite had offered
me the job then and there, I
probably would have torn out of
the office in a state of panic. The
job situation lociks bleak, but it's
not this bad, I thought.
Susan didn't offer me the job
right away, and later when she
called to suggest a week trial, I
was more rational. I was impress-
ed with the editor's many story
ideas and her commitment to the
community, so I decided to come
for the week, and take it from
there. I'm not sorry.
The first few days, I was
amazed at the number of people
who met me on the street, smiled
and said good morning. I return-
ed the smile, and after awhile
would smile first and say good
morning to a complete stranger.
This is almost unheard of in the
cities. Small towns are special,
because even newcomers are
welcomed. If they don't know
you, they thing they should. How
many Seaforth residents returned
Nome to wonder whose daughter
that girl was.
The only thing that really inked
me about small town. people is the
way they tell a story. It begins like
a regular tale, then the plot stops
as the story teller asks, you must
know so-and-so, he was . the
brother or the woman who
married John Doe. The listener
shakes her head. Their farm is
two mile and a quarter out, the
old farm of Jones or the Smiths.
After about five to ten minutes
of this, the listener often says,
No, I don't know him. Then it's on
to the next subject or the tale is
completed,
In a small town, news travels
pretty quickly and it always
seemed the reporter is the last to
know. One morning was wasted
trying to contact a fireman or the
fire chief about a fire that
occurred. After having made
nuns erous calls, with no results,
a girl in the office told me she
km.% about it.
ThiS
a
summer, I boarded at the
6 —THE BRUSSELS POST,
Hunt's which is located on
Goderich Street West. The house
is run by Frank and Isahelle Hunt
and we just happen to go to the
same church.
The Hunts have been the
epitome of hospitality, welcoming
my family and friends when they
came for a visit.
Most city people think nothing
is going on in the country. With
Seaforth and Clinton, both having
their Centennial this year, there
was plenty to do. Besides, .there
was the annual carnival, fairs,
craft and flower shows.
One weekend a girlfriend came
from London. We're both single
and over twenty-one so we
thought. we'd discover the Huron
County night life.
On Friday, we went to a dance
at the arena, and on Saturday I
Was still getting blamed for the
shortage of single, unattached
males at the dance.
There was a country singles
dance on that Saturday, surely
there would be single, eligible
guys there. A definite curse
would have fallen on my head, if
we didn't have a good time, so
you can imagine my stupification
when I looked in the windows and
saw the over fifty crowd. "Oh-h-h
Nancy," my friend groaned.
I should have suspected this,
because doing my laundry at the
laundromat, several months
before I heard one senior citizen
ask another if he was going to the
singles' dance that night. I
thought it was some kind of joke
and promptly forgot about it. One
of the guys at the boarding house
had been to one, and had said he
had a good time. Why am I so
gullible, I thought as I entered.
Convincing my friend to come,
I told her she'd never have to
worry about seeing any of these
people again.
We walked in the door, and
right off she recognizes one of the
guys in the band as a university
class-mate.
After the music started, every-
body was getting up to dance.
Although the majority, were over
fifty, there was still a fair number
who hadn't seen 30.
We danced all evening, and
one thing that can be said, is
those guys really like to dance.
They might be oldies but they're
smoothies.
Here is an excerpt from the
letter my girlfriend wrote about
her weekend in Seaforth. "The
more I thing about it (and tell my
friends) the more I realize it,
Seaforth does have a ldt going for
it--the friendly people, the sun
shine...and even the country
singles' dance." She went on to
say, she met the class-mate who
played at the dance, and the first
thing he mentioned was the
...single's dance and she added
"but I don't regret going Imagine
that!"
The rural population must have
been rather dubious when I
started to write about farming.
Attending an Ontario Federation
of Agriculture. meeting, and talk-
ing to some bean producers, I
innocently asked what kind of
beans they were talking about,
soybeans. "Where do you come
from?" they replied.
One night at the supper table, I
asked one of the boarders who is a
farm hand at a local farm if he
was cutting hay in the front field,
because I had passed it earlier
that day.
"Hay", he asked quizzically.
"You sure it was hay," he
continued:
"Hay, barley, wheat, it Was
yellow and lying on the ground,
SEPTEMBER 16, 1976
heck how do I know, what it is,"
answered.
There was shocked silence,
then sniggers all along the table.
Mrs. Hunt defended me in a way,
"How do you expect a city girl to
know the difference?". Well, I'm
not exactly from the city, but a
rural municipality..., I would
mutter. My father doesn't farm,
but has a few acres.
"It wouldn't be so bad, if she
had said it was wheat," the
farmhad shook his head soulfully.
Transportation into and out of
Seaforth was a real headache.
From Windsor to Seiforth, is only
an eight hour bus trip if you don't
mind a three hour wait in
Stratford on a Sunday night. It's a
little better if you can get to
Clinton, and arrange a ride from
there. -
Every few weeks, it was
necessary to beg, borrow, or steal
a ride home. One Friday, fwas so
desperate,/ I put up a "Ride
Needed" sign in the Expositor
window. Thankfully, a former
boarder of. Mrs. Hunt was going
my way, so the sign came down. I
was definitely doubtful of accept-
r55 9
ing a ride from any characters
that might happen to see the sign.
A bus leaves for London only
early in the morning, so it made it
pointless to get home Saturday
afternoon, only to catch the
returning bus. Sunday afternoon.
One Friday, the editor gave me
a ride to Stratford where I just
made the bus, which was a couple
of minutes late.. The employee'
said there was a two hour wait in
London. As the bus drove into the
London station, I could see a train
either entering or leaving the
London station. That could be
leaving for Windsor, I thought, so
I ran to the train station,
where I heard the last call for
Chatham, and Windsor. No time
for a ticket, the train attendant
said, as he pointed for me to get
on the train.. .
Catching the train, just in time,
I sat down to recuperate. "Ticket
please," the conductor said.
"I didn't have time to buy one,
could I buy one now," I asked,
breathlessly.
"You didn't have time to buy
one," the conductor shouted and
all heads turned my way, "and
we're an hour late!"
The other passengers sniggcl.
ed, I wasn't alone, another girl
timidly went up to get her tick
from him.
If my first impression 0
Seaforth, was of a cold, bleak,
dying town, my lasting inns.
sion Of Seaforth will be of th
warmth of the people. Places lit
Seaforth give small towns the
good name.
Now some local residents 'nigh
be sighing with relief, aft
having skimmed down the colum
to see if I told that particular tal
I'll be taking a lot of happy al
humerous memories with m
when I leave and all I can sayt
reassure the skimmer s is the)
other anecdotes are not for pd.
cation, "at this time."
USE
POST
WANT-ADS
DIAL 887-6641
Use hot water wisely
Save energy...Save money
Apart from home heating, a family usually consumes
the most energy in producing hot water.
Here are just a few small things you can do, that can
add up to a considerable energy saving. Turn off
hot water taps so they don't drip, fill clothes,washers to
match the size of the load, wait until you have a full load
before using a dishwasher and remember showers usually
require less hot water than baths. Try not to use
more hot water than you need.
The. Cascade electric water heater
will give, y6u a dependable supply
-Of hot water. but it's up to you
to use it wi8ely,
your hydro