Some of my friends grew up in McCauley and this column is about one boy’s early experiences. Kenneth Pappes ultimately became a film maker, though before he made films he did a lot of other things, some in this neighbourhood. Ken and I sat outdoors at Spinelli’s drinking coffee, admiring the lacy silvery green spring leaves on the elms in Giovanni Caboto Park. We walked through the park examining the bouncy new rubber turf under the shiny swinging and climbing playthings.

And we walked under the huge elms along the eastern edge of the park where there once was a lawn bowling pitch with pristine grass. From Ken’s child’s eye view, this once private area was used by men dressed in Ascot ties and women in expensive dresses. These patrons of the park appeared as if from another world. Ken remembered that the park was once sheltered by thick caragana and lilac hedges, and was a magical haven. No street hubbub could be heard inside and no noise of children outside.

Ken’s father was with the R.C.M.P. In those days people were reluctant to call a stranger to address their problems, so Ken related that neighbours, particularly women, would come to their house seeking protection from their drunken abusive husbands or for other problems. Ken’s father, a big man at 6’5”, would go speak to the offending party and those offenders tended to listen. Married R.C.M.P. were not transferred about in those days and Ken lived on 110 Avenue with his family until he was 17 when they moved to a new house in one of those newer areas to the north of McCauley.

He learned there were many lonely seniors in the neighbourhood because they would want him to stay and talk. He also learned that helpless people need protection in society when a blind handicapped World War I veteran was robbed and beaten in his small ‘skid’ candy store located on 111 Ave and 95 street.

A boy living in this neighbourhood needed money and Ken had many strategies to get it. Collecting bottles, a time tested technique, enabled him to buy penny candies at Weleschuk’s Grocery Store whenever his father would send him, with a note, to pick up tobacco. Weleschuk’s Grocery Store was in the same location as the Italian Market. It changed hands several times before the Spinellis bought it. Across the avenue was a Chinese laundry which in the spring melt would become a swamp, because of the laundry runoff. The business could then only be reached via a raised boardwalk. Woe to those who slipped on the wet icy walk.

Ken also raised rabbits which he sold to Chinese restaurants. He would collect bits of discarded vegetables for them from the small Safeway on the corner of 95 Street and 107 Ave. Sometimes if the cabbage leaves were particularly fresh, his mother would take them for the family.

Ken learned many basics about life growing up in McCauley. Ken’s first real job was as a grocery delivery boy for Schultz’s Grocery Store on 111 Avenue. He would deliver the groceries on his bike, a prized possession, occasionally getting tipped. He learned there were many lonely seniors in the neighbourhood because they would want him to stay and talk. He also learned that helpless people need protection in society when a blind handicapped World War I veteran was robbed and beaten in his small ‘skid’ candy store located on 111 Ave and 95 street.

Though Ken now lives across the river, he has many fond memories of McCauley. Then, as now, people came from different places with different experiences and approaches to living. As they became friends, he also learned about diversity. Some have remained lifelong friends.

Of course because this column is about aging, Ken and I also talked about aging: the delights, dilemmas, and difficulties. Ken at 69 is in the liberation phase but that part of the conversation will have to wait for another column.

Sherry lives in McCauley and is a block carrier for the paper.