The Brussels Post, 1981-08-26, Page 21872
4Brusseis Post
BRUSSELS
ONT.
Established 1872
Serving Brussels and the surrounding community
Published at BRUSSELS, ONTARIO
every Wednesday morning
by McLean Bros, Publishers-Limited
Andrew Y. McLean, Publisher
Evelyn Kennedy, Editor
Member Canadian Community Newspaper Association, Ontario
Weekly Newspaper Association and The Audit Bureau of
Circulation.
WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 26, 1981
Authorized as second class mail by Canada
Post Office. Registration Number 0562.
Box 50,
Brussels, Ontario
NOG iHo
Behind the scenes
by Keith Roulston
Opinions
fourth generation, having
been born with an inquisitive
nature and the ability to ask
questions from ,childhood,
had a very good idea of our
family history from the be-
ginning of "Fairview Farm",
the Golley homestead; for"
aver the years I had listened
to many tales and in later
years had made notes as I
compiled the family tree.
• Great grandfather Joseph
Golley and his wife Margaret
married in the Guleph area in
the early 1840's. Both famil-
ies had emigrated from Bel-
fast, Ireland earlier, Around
1846, they took up farming in
the Lucan area, an Irish
settlement where the famous
Black Donnellys came later,
In 1854, Joseph decided to
move further north' where
land was cheaper, and con
sequently purchased lots, 1
and 2' in Morris township
along a trail that was later to
be No. 4 Highway. At the land
office in Goderich, he pur-
chased 100 acres first of the
forested land. Before leaving
the office door, he decided it
waS cheap, so he turned
around, went back and
bought the adjoining lot,
making the 200 acre farm,
intact to this day. Cash, paid
in British sterling is quoted
on the original, deed in
possession of-Clarence Gol-
ley, the present owner. Since
then the farm has passed
from generation to generat-
ion.
In 1856, the family moved
to their new land with only 50
acres partially cleared and a
log house and, barn already
constructed, The family of
Jim (my grandfather) Joe,
Please torn to page 3
For those who have come to hate the
opinions expressed in this column this week
there is a special treat: several opinions to
hate not just one.
We spent some time away from home on
the weekend which gave some opportunities
to observe human nature. What is itabout a
sign that makes people do just the opposite to
what the sign says? You've seen it before: the
wet paint sign that makes everybody touch
the paint just to see if the sign really means
what it says. We saw several instances on the
weekend of this perversity of mankind. You
see it every time there's a traffic tie-up of
course. There's always some guy who goes
Out on the shoulder of the road, drives past all
the other cars backed up and somehow thinks
the traffic jam is for everybody else but him.
He, of course, gets stuck out on the shoulder
-when he reaches the point where the backup
starts and then gets angry because people
won't let 'him back in the regular lane when
the traffic starts to move.
Likewise on the weekend we were at a
restaurant • and took a youngster to . the
washroom. There was a sign on the door
asking patience while the attendant cleaned
the rest room. The line began to form •while
more and more people waited but just about
everyone who Came along would ignore the
people lined right up to the washroom door
and go to the head of the line as if everyone
else in line was too stupid to know you had to
push to open the door. After they read the
sign each was reasonable and went back to
the •end of the line but each had to read the
sign for himself.
A DETOUR
Likewise later in the weekend we stayed at
a house that was the last one on a street which
was under construction. A detour sign
blocked the road nearly half a mile back,
directing traffic around the construction but a
good number of motorists seemed to think
this was another stupid government plot just
to inconvenience them.personally. The result
was a weekend of watching people come
down the street to, the construction equip-
ment, turn around and go back. After
watching several hundred cars turn id her
driveway, the owner of the house finally built
a barricade across it.
*****
Spent some time at a party at which almost
inevitably people began to compare cars and
gas. mileage. Several smiled smugly at what
great gas mileages they got since they had
sabotaged the•pollution control equipment on
their cars: another of those needless
government interferences` in their lives.
L Wonder,, what do the same people who
take out their pollution control equipment to
get a few extra miles per gallon have to say
about acid rain drifting over from the U.S. Do
they ever complain that the government'
should do something to stop the pulp and
paper company from polluting their favourite
fishing stream?
*am
The paradox of Pierre Trudeau was evident
again on sitting down to read a Saturday
paper. On the front page of the feature
section was an article on the "UN's love affair
with Trudeau" saying that it would be
unrequited love because, although many at
the UN would love to have Trudeau as its next
Secretary-General it won't come to pass
because as a citizen of a NATO country he
Would never win approval from the Soviet
Union witkits veto powers.
THEY RUN,THE COUNTRY
Inside 'the paper the letters to the editor
showed the kind of opinion of Trudeau we've
come more to take for granted in the last
decade. One writer said Trudeau was putting
Canada in a mess because it was part of his
longterm plan since he knows if you ruined a
country you could then do anything you want
with it. Another called for Trudeau to
abdicate and the people of Canada to buy him
a one-way ticket to the third world country of
his choice before calling in the leaders of the
postal workers and air traffic controllers to
take over the government because they run
the country anyway. Another called for
impeachment (even though there is no
provision in Canada).
How can one man be so, respected as one of
the world's greatest leaders and so despised
and hated to the point of paranoia at the
same time?
*****
Many of those Candians who say the
country is going to hell in a wheelbarrow
(pushed by Pierre Trudeau) look fondly
southward and wish we had a man like Ronald
Reagan.
Whey can't we get someone with the guts
to cut government spending, they ask.
Reagan has made big news with his plans to
cut $32 billion from Federal expenditures.
Gaining less publicity is his plan to spend
$200 billion in additional defence budgets.
From an economic point of view, a deficit is a-
deficit so before. Canadians get too much in
.love with Reagan economics, maybe they
should wait and see the proof of the pudding.
Many also like Reagan's get-tough attitude
with the Russians and perhaps they're right.
It's hard to know which side to believe on the
issue of supposed Russsian superiority. One
could feel a little more comfortable with
Reagan's "we're just doing what we have to
do" words, however, 'if there wasn't so much
glee expressed over something like the
shooting down of tyvo Libyan jets last week.
The elevation of the Amelrican pilots to
national heros and, flying them, home to meet
the president shows the Vietnam war and the
Iranian hostage crisis may be over but the
wounds are still deep enough the U.S. seems
to haVe a need to prove it's not going to be
pushed around, Life might be uncomfortable
in a world with a giant looking 'for revenge.
If this column appears in your local paper
with a black border around it, you can shed a
silent tear, or *a noisy one if you'd rather.
The black border will mean this is the last
column you will every read by Bill Smiley. It
will mean that he has a brand new set of
wings, and is swooping and gliding about
withthe cherubim and seraphim. Or that he
has a brand new coal shovel, and is shovelling
away with the in. cubi and succubi of the other
place.
It will mean that he has succumbed, simply
succembed, to a combination of playing three
roles at once: Head of the English 'Depart-
ment, a German general, and A Man Called
Trepid.
Head of the Eng. Dept. in June is enough to
whiten the hair of a new-born black baby.
First, there is the administrivia, about 10
memos a day: Please have inventory
-completed by yesterday (60,000 books); Your
list of books for rebinds his not been
submitted, it was due last Friday) You have
not completed the inventory of the class-
rooms in yoUr department (as though
somebody had walked off with six desks and a
waste-basket since last June); Where were
you when the emergency meeting of
departments heads concerning gum-chewing
by custodians was held? Where do you hide
every time you are paged? When will you
have your course outlines ready, or are you
going to use the .same old ones, merely
changing the year? And so on.
That I can handle. I usually stagger
through and collapse in a lawn chair the day
after graduation.
But this year another ingredient was tossed
into •the mire in which I wallow each June. It
was known as Operation Get Kim-and-the-
kids home from Mooseonee.
With complete disregard for my advancing
debilitation, she blithely suggested that I hire
a U-HaUl trailer, drive 500 miles, load her
stuff - including a piano - into it, and drive
home, with her and kids in the back of our car,
no doubt sleeping.
The piano weighs only 700 pounds. I can lift
25 without throwing my back out. I wouldn't
drive 500 miles in a day to see Cleopatra
kissing Joe Stalin.
That was out, and even my wife agreed that
there comes a point.
As far as' I was concerned, she could
hitch-hike, including the 300 miles from
Mooseonee to Cochrane, which contains no
road. But I had to think of the Boys, perhaps
being carried off and dumped into James B
by mosquitoes, or eaten to the bone by
black-flies. So I swung into action, with
BY DOROTHY (GOLLEY)
THORNTON
I had decided that today
when I dusted the • living-
room I must do the pictiire
frames. With the cloth in my
hand I touched the picture
and as if by magic, my
memory tried to fathom the
significance' of those six
generations in the picture.
I remembered the day Dad
had gathered the pictures
together to give to the
photographer salesman who
had called at the door. He
specialized in blending pic-
tures into a group. How else
could we have stx generat-
ions in the one picture?
Joseph, James, Robert,
Clarence, Barry and Michael
all with the same surname
but also with the coincidence
of deep blue. eyes,
I, from'my position in the
my calipers,,my maps; my calculator, and my
wife shouting at me to tell her not to sell her
toaster, and to sell h ar ironing board,
because we have lost her other toaster, and
we have an ironing board, an extra one, that
almost works.
She hired-a box-car from Mooseonee to
Cochrane. A mere $380. Still 500 miles to go. I
dropped' a few hints around the staff room,
cheerily describing my problem. •
Two friends of mine, who are entirely out of
their minds, announced they'd go and get her
and the kids and the stuff: "No problem.
We'll drive up Staurday, pick up the stuff,
turn around and drive home."
"What about the piano?"
"No problem. We'll take turns sleeping."
As far as they were concerned, it was a
mere jaunt. As far as Kini was concerned,
during '$80 worth of lorig-distance, no
problem.
As far as I was concerned, it was a logistical
nightmare. Supposing my friends got to
Cochrane on a Saturday afternoon, and the
freightyards were closed for the weekend,
and they all bumped into that old malicious
bureaucracry: "Sorry, we close at noon on
Saturday. Nope there's nothing I can do. Just
hafta wait till Monday." In some, countries
you can bribe officals, but not in this one.
Suppose all the U-Hauls were taken for that
particular date. Supoose the furniture stor-
age place had no room when they got here.
Suppose the wife of one of my friends broke a
leg, and the other friend slipped a disc before
they started, Suppose the Boys had scarlet
fever when they arrived in,Cochrance and the
whole expedition had to be quarantined for
three weeks.
Now I know how a general feels when he's
planning an operation,. Do all the taper-work,
get everything set, and then some idiot
shoots his foot off with an automatic pistol,
and,he is your key man for'the whole works.
At times I felt like General Rommel. The
trip was laid on. The freight yards would be
open (according to, Kim, whose Intelligence
Service I trust as far as I eould kick a jeep), the
U-Haul was reserved.
At others I felt like General Scheisskopf.
The storage place gave me the gears and
demanded a financial rip-off. Kim calmly said
she'd meet my friends in the Cochrane
station at 4:30 I've been there. You could not
find your Dudley in the Cochrane station.'
Anyway, the green flares have gone up, the
Operation is launched, and I am crouched at
home, feeling Trepid, which I presume is the
opposite of Intrepid (meaning fearless).
Sugar and spice
By Bill Smiley
A man called Trepid.
Concerned?
Write a etter to the editor _today
Golley farm: 127
years in family