The first picture is me at the cabin, and the second is Eric, and we were snowmobiling that winter..
" Toronto's Finest #2"
Around 1975, I had gone up to Macmillan Yard for the final time and would remain there in one position or another until being pensioned off.
I was making new relationships with the guys up there even though I knew a great many lifers such as me.
One of the newer ones was with Eric W. who became a good friend and we would wind up hunting together for more than 35 years.
One time when we were just getting to know each other on a social basis we decided to go snowmobiling at my cottage at Pickerel River.
After following my friend Lyman N. around his trap line for a day, we had quite a time, and would do this on occasion a few more times.
After getting home I noticed in the Toronto Star that, a store in Toronto had snowmobile helmets on sale for $5:00 each, called Eric and we decided to go down and buy one each as we never had one up to that time.
I said that I would pick up Eric at his house near Leslie St. and Finch Ave. in my 1967 Pontiac Strato Chief, which we had used to tow the snowmobiles up north with.
I picked up Eric and we headed south on Leslie St. , and hadn't gone far when we were stopped by a traffic cop, telling us that we had no head lights, or tail lights, at which time, I told the cop that I found that hard to believe, but that I would check, getting out of the car, and going to the front I see that the head lights are on, and going to the rear, see that indeed there are no tail lights.
The cop says he is going to have to give me a ticket for no tail lights, and I say to this that, look a half block down the street is a service station, its probably just a fuse I can fix it there, and save myself some money and him the bother of writing out a ticket, but no as this must have been to him the crime of the century, he proceeds to write out the ticket, as I tell Eric to check the glove box to see if there was a fuse in there, and there was.
Before the ticket was finished I had replaced the broken fuse and the tail lights were working again, which I pointed out to the Officer, but he would have none of it, I guess he was having a tough time meeting his quota that month, he finished the ticket, which I think was about $35:00, and went off whistling, leaving me burning.
I get back in the car and heading south once more I asked Eric where the nearest Police station was and he told me, near a plaza around Sheppard and Leslie where I proceed to go.
We get to the Police station, and go up to the second floor desk, where I tell the Se argent, who seemed to be the only guy in there, what had transpired, and he tells me, that he can do nothing, the only person who can, is the cop that game me the ticket, I say fair enough, but as that is the case I will take it to night court, and that I would like him, to go with me to my car, and confirm that the lights were in fact working within ten minutes of getting the ticket.
He says with, what appears to be a straight face, " I couldn't do that because as soon as I left, you could take the fuse out and, and they would no longer be working" at which time Eric's who was standing behind me jaw dropped, and I without hesitation yell at the cop is this a Police Station, or a crazy house, and stomp out telling Eric that I would take it to court and would probably need him as a witness.
The next day at work I entered the checking booth as Eric was telling someone about the night before, telling them, can you imagine, that son of a bitch going right in the Police station and giving them hell, and I remind Eric that I will need him as a witness, and begin telling them that this was not my first run in with the Police, that many years before around 1963 I had another problem with the Police department, and begin to relate the problem when a light went off in my head.
While living in Parkdale on Tyndall Ave. we had quite a problem with parking tickets for overnight parking, and the funny thing was that I never got many, because after working the overnight shift, and getting over the high of doing a good job at work, I would watch the end of the Jack Parr show, or the late night night movie, would go outside and check if the tires had been chalked, before going to bed, which is what the cops would do, and they would come back about 5:00AM and ticket the cars, that handn't moved.
If the tires had been chalked I would go up and down the street for a half block and rub out the chalk marks, but after getting tired of doing this one day I wrote a letter to Mayor Nathan Philips, the Police Commission, and the Board of Control.
I never expected much action but, surprising to me, Ron Haggart, a shit disturbing columnist at the Toronto Star got a copy of my letter, which basically stated that we, in our area were getting a disproportionate number of tickets, that when we lived on Northcote ave a few blocks away, we never got tickets.
Mr. Haggart wrote of my complaint in the Star, and it wasn't long before we got a call from an officer at the nearbye Police Station at Cowan Ave. saying that they would like to have a chat with me, and I say that I would like that, and the Staff Sergeant comes over to our house, and we have quite a pleasant chat in my mother's front porch, at which time I tell him that I have gone by Cowan Ave. Police Station many times seeing many cars illegally parked out side the Police Station which was right beside the Fire Station, and there is no parking within 500 ft of a fire station, and indicate to him that I thought a majority of those cars were Police Officers private cars.
The staff sergeant does his best to mollify me but it doesn't matter because the heat has gone out of my argument, as we hadn't been bothered for a while, as a result of my complaint I guess.
A few weeks later the neighbor knocks on our door during the day, and tells us that we had been chalked, and that he had been given a ticket for washing his car on the street, and that he was telling all the neighbors about the tire chalking, upon which my brother Max and me go out and move the cars 3 feet with the police who chalked the tires looking on from their cruiser parked on Springhurst Ave.
A couple minutes later we get another knock on the door and it is the neighbor, who says we have been chalked again, and we go out and move the cars again, getting a little pissed off by now.
I go back in the house and phone Cowan Ave Police Station and ask them if this is all the Police have to do, is sit on Springhurst Ave, and chalk our tires until they can give us a ticket, because we are going nowhere, and will move the cars three feet each time the tires are chalked.
A few minutes after that, the Police Car leaves.
In that area of Parkdale a great many houses did not have garages, and we were one of those houses, and on occasion if a house was vacant, we would contact the Real Estate Agent and get permission to park in the drive way of a vacant house for sale, seemingly indicating to others that someone was still living in the house, which I had at the house across the street, and low and behold I get a ticket in the drive way, now I'm pissed off again, and go to the Police Station with the ticket in hand and the Real Estate agent in tow loaded for bear.
I proceed to tell the desk sergeant of the situation, and he gets the issuing Officer in, who proceeds to tell him that there had been a complaint.
The Desk Sargent then tells the issuing Officer that tickets can not be issued on private property, that, that, is a trespass and that the offending cars would have to be towed, and he took the ticket from me and cancelled it.
A few weeks later we had again another problem with tickets during the night, and I went to the Cowan Ave. Station and made a complaint, and the Desk Sergeant said that they were acting on a complaint, and I ask him if they always act on a complaint, at which time he said that they did, and so I said to him that, I was complaining about all of the cars illegally parked outside the Police Station, and asked him to have them tagged.
The officer refused and we got into a shouting match, at which time he said that he could throw me in jail, and I said just do it because we will find out then why you will not tag these illegally parked cars, seeing I was getting no action on the complaints, I left, totally pissed off.
A couple nights later, after watching the late show I checked the tires and they were chalked again, this time I decided I would go over to the Police Station and take down the license plate numbers of the cars illegally parked outside the Police Station and send a copy to the present Mayor, Board of Control, Police Commission, and Ron Haggart, remember Ron Haggart columnist with the Toronto Star.
Ron Haggart investigated, and found that the cars illegally parked were Police Officers cars, and wrote a column on it.
A few days later I was asked to come over to Cowan Ave Station, and have a chat with the Boss Inspector Geno, and before going into the Police Station I left my car parked, legally, outside, with my girl friend in the car and said, if I don't come out in 45 minutes call me a lawyer.
On entering the station I go up to the desk Sargent, the same guy who a few weeks before threatened to throw me in jail, and tell him that I was there to see Inspector Geno, and he escorts me into Inspector Geno's office.
I have a very nice conversation with Inspector Geno, the off chute of which is, he says after the publication by Ron Haggart of my problem, the shit hit the fan, and caused a great deal of acrimony at the station, and goes on to say that as a result, he had all the cars around the station tagged, and three belonged to Police Officers, and when they came to him with them, he said pay them, also a couple were for others doing business at the Station which he took and cancelled.
Inspector Geno said that If I ever got a ticket any place in Toronto, come and see him with it and write no more letters.
When I got to this part of the story is when the lights went off, and I wondered what ever became of Inspector Geno.
Remember I'm telling this story to Eric and one other guy in the office.
I try to get the phone number of Cowan Ave Station, and find that Cowan Ave Station is long gone.
I phone Police Headquarters and ask for the whereabouts of Inspector Geno, at which time they ask, do you mean Staff Superintendent Geno and a big smile breaks out on my face as I said yes.
I then say I would like to talk with Superintendent Geno, and the person on the phone says that Superintendent Geno is in court every day because he was in charge of the Mounted Police Officers, whose horses had trampled demonstrators outside the Science Centre, when Alexei Kosygin, Premier of The Soviet Union was visiting the Science Centre in Toronto , then I was not so happy, and said there is no way I can get him then, rhetorically, at which the operator said Oh yes, here is his number at court.
The operator gives me Superintendent's phone number at court, and I phoned not expecting to get him but he answers the phone, I tell him my name, and he says he doesn't recognize the name.
I ask him if in the past, he was in charge at Cowan Ave, to which he says, indeed he was, I then remind him that many years before we had, had a conversation in his office at Cowan Ave, about my letter to Ron Haggart over parking tickets, and he began to sort of moan over the phone saying ohhhhhhhhh as it began to dawn on him what I was talking about, and he says, I remember now.
He asks me what happened, and I explain to him in great detail, and he moans something like Jesus Christ, and then says he is going to be tied up in court for months but never mind.
You go to the Willowdale station on Princess St and tell superintendent Scott the story, and tell Superintendent Scott that I, Superintendent Geno said to make the ticket right.
On my lunch break I head to Princess St. which was not to far away and ask for Superintendent Scott, at which point I am escorted into his office.
He asks me in a very polite manner what he can do for me, and, "cancel a ticket I say".
"Why would I do that for you" he says, and I say because " Superintendent Geno told me to tell you to" he then asks me "what are you famous for" I tell him nothing it's just about the ticket problems I had, and what Superintendent Geno had said many years before.
He then asks me if I had been disrespectful of the officer, and I tell him no, but what I had done as a result of my visit to the sub station, where I had asked the desk Sargent if this was the Police Station or the crazy house.
He sort of let out a little moan, I believe thinking was this guy, meaning the desk Sergeant for real.
He then takes the ticket, and straightens it out and I hear no more about it.
Allan
Around 1975, I had gone up to Macmillan Yard for the final time and would remain there in one position or another until being pensioned off.
I was making new relationships with the guys up there even though I knew a great many lifers such as me.
One of the newer ones was with Eric W. who became a good friend and we would wind up hunting together for more than 35 years.
One time when we were just getting to know each other on a social basis we decided to go snowmobiling at my cottage at Pickerel River.
After following my friend Lyman N. around his trap line for a day, we had quite a time, and would do this on occasion a few more times.
After getting home I noticed in the Toronto Star that, a store in Toronto had snowmobile helmets on sale for $5:00 each, called Eric and we decided to go down and buy one each as we never had one up to that time.
I said that I would pick up Eric at his house near Leslie St. and Finch Ave. in my 1967 Pontiac Strato Chief, which we had used to tow the snowmobiles up north with.
I picked up Eric and we headed south on Leslie St. , and hadn't gone far when we were stopped by a traffic cop, telling us that we had no head lights, or tail lights, at which time, I told the cop that I found that hard to believe, but that I would check, getting out of the car, and going to the front I see that the head lights are on, and going to the rear, see that indeed there are no tail lights.
The cop says he is going to have to give me a ticket for no tail lights, and I say to this that, look a half block down the street is a service station, its probably just a fuse I can fix it there, and save myself some money and him the bother of writing out a ticket, but no as this must have been to him the crime of the century, he proceeds to write out the ticket, as I tell Eric to check the glove box to see if there was a fuse in there, and there was.
Before the ticket was finished I had replaced the broken fuse and the tail lights were working again, which I pointed out to the Officer, but he would have none of it, I guess he was having a tough time meeting his quota that month, he finished the ticket, which I think was about $35:00, and went off whistling, leaving me burning.
I get back in the car and heading south once more I asked Eric where the nearest Police station was and he told me, near a plaza around Sheppard and Leslie where I proceed to go.
We get to the Police station, and go up to the second floor desk, where I tell the Se argent, who seemed to be the only guy in there, what had transpired, and he tells me, that he can do nothing, the only person who can, is the cop that game me the ticket, I say fair enough, but as that is the case I will take it to night court, and that I would like him, to go with me to my car, and confirm that the lights were in fact working within ten minutes of getting the ticket.
He says with, what appears to be a straight face, " I couldn't do that because as soon as I left, you could take the fuse out and, and they would no longer be working" at which time Eric's who was standing behind me jaw dropped, and I without hesitation yell at the cop is this a Police Station, or a crazy house, and stomp out telling Eric that I would take it to court and would probably need him as a witness.
The next day at work I entered the checking booth as Eric was telling someone about the night before, telling them, can you imagine, that son of a bitch going right in the Police station and giving them hell, and I remind Eric that I will need him as a witness, and begin telling them that this was not my first run in with the Police, that many years before around 1963 I had another problem with the Police department, and begin to relate the problem when a light went off in my head.
While living in Parkdale on Tyndall Ave. we had quite a problem with parking tickets for overnight parking, and the funny thing was that I never got many, because after working the overnight shift, and getting over the high of doing a good job at work, I would watch the end of the Jack Parr show, or the late night night movie, would go outside and check if the tires had been chalked, before going to bed, which is what the cops would do, and they would come back about 5:00AM and ticket the cars, that handn't moved.
If the tires had been chalked I would go up and down the street for a half block and rub out the chalk marks, but after getting tired of doing this one day I wrote a letter to Mayor Nathan Philips, the Police Commission, and the Board of Control.
I never expected much action but, surprising to me, Ron Haggart, a shit disturbing columnist at the Toronto Star got a copy of my letter, which basically stated that we, in our area were getting a disproportionate number of tickets, that when we lived on Northcote ave a few blocks away, we never got tickets.
Mr. Haggart wrote of my complaint in the Star, and it wasn't long before we got a call from an officer at the nearbye Police Station at Cowan Ave. saying that they would like to have a chat with me, and I say that I would like that, and the Staff Sergeant comes over to our house, and we have quite a pleasant chat in my mother's front porch, at which time I tell him that I have gone by Cowan Ave. Police Station many times seeing many cars illegally parked out side the Police Station which was right beside the Fire Station, and there is no parking within 500 ft of a fire station, and indicate to him that I thought a majority of those cars were Police Officers private cars.
The staff sergeant does his best to mollify me but it doesn't matter because the heat has gone out of my argument, as we hadn't been bothered for a while, as a result of my complaint I guess.
A few weeks later the neighbor knocks on our door during the day, and tells us that we had been chalked, and that he had been given a ticket for washing his car on the street, and that he was telling all the neighbors about the tire chalking, upon which my brother Max and me go out and move the cars 3 feet with the police who chalked the tires looking on from their cruiser parked on Springhurst Ave.
A couple minutes later we get another knock on the door and it is the neighbor, who says we have been chalked again, and we go out and move the cars again, getting a little pissed off by now.
I go back in the house and phone Cowan Ave Police Station and ask them if this is all the Police have to do, is sit on Springhurst Ave, and chalk our tires until they can give us a ticket, because we are going nowhere, and will move the cars three feet each time the tires are chalked.
A few minutes after that, the Police Car leaves.
In that area of Parkdale a great many houses did not have garages, and we were one of those houses, and on occasion if a house was vacant, we would contact the Real Estate Agent and get permission to park in the drive way of a vacant house for sale, seemingly indicating to others that someone was still living in the house, which I had at the house across the street, and low and behold I get a ticket in the drive way, now I'm pissed off again, and go to the Police Station with the ticket in hand and the Real Estate agent in tow loaded for bear.
I proceed to tell the desk sergeant of the situation, and he gets the issuing Officer in, who proceeds to tell him that there had been a complaint.
The Desk Sargent then tells the issuing Officer that tickets can not be issued on private property, that, that, is a trespass and that the offending cars would have to be towed, and he took the ticket from me and cancelled it.
A few weeks later we had again another problem with tickets during the night, and I went to the Cowan Ave. Station and made a complaint, and the Desk Sergeant said that they were acting on a complaint, and I ask him if they always act on a complaint, at which time he said that they did, and so I said to him that, I was complaining about all of the cars illegally parked outside the Police Station, and asked him to have them tagged.
The officer refused and we got into a shouting match, at which time he said that he could throw me in jail, and I said just do it because we will find out then why you will not tag these illegally parked cars, seeing I was getting no action on the complaints, I left, totally pissed off.
A couple nights later, after watching the late show I checked the tires and they were chalked again, this time I decided I would go over to the Police Station and take down the license plate numbers of the cars illegally parked outside the Police Station and send a copy to the present Mayor, Board of Control, Police Commission, and Ron Haggart, remember Ron Haggart columnist with the Toronto Star.
Ron Haggart investigated, and found that the cars illegally parked were Police Officers cars, and wrote a column on it.
A few days later I was asked to come over to Cowan Ave Station, and have a chat with the Boss Inspector Geno, and before going into the Police Station I left my car parked, legally, outside, with my girl friend in the car and said, if I don't come out in 45 minutes call me a lawyer.
On entering the station I go up to the desk Sargent, the same guy who a few weeks before threatened to throw me in jail, and tell him that I was there to see Inspector Geno, and he escorts me into Inspector Geno's office.
I have a very nice conversation with Inspector Geno, the off chute of which is, he says after the publication by Ron Haggart of my problem, the shit hit the fan, and caused a great deal of acrimony at the station, and goes on to say that as a result, he had all the cars around the station tagged, and three belonged to Police Officers, and when they came to him with them, he said pay them, also a couple were for others doing business at the Station which he took and cancelled.
Inspector Geno said that If I ever got a ticket any place in Toronto, come and see him with it and write no more letters.
When I got to this part of the story is when the lights went off, and I wondered what ever became of Inspector Geno.
Remember I'm telling this story to Eric and one other guy in the office.
I try to get the phone number of Cowan Ave Station, and find that Cowan Ave Station is long gone.
I phone Police Headquarters and ask for the whereabouts of Inspector Geno, at which time they ask, do you mean Staff Superintendent Geno and a big smile breaks out on my face as I said yes.
I then say I would like to talk with Superintendent Geno, and the person on the phone says that Superintendent Geno is in court every day because he was in charge of the Mounted Police Officers, whose horses had trampled demonstrators outside the Science Centre, when Alexei Kosygin, Premier of The Soviet Union was visiting the Science Centre in Toronto , then I was not so happy, and said there is no way I can get him then, rhetorically, at which the operator said Oh yes, here is his number at court.
The operator gives me Superintendent's phone number at court, and I phoned not expecting to get him but he answers the phone, I tell him my name, and he says he doesn't recognize the name.
I ask him if in the past, he was in charge at Cowan Ave, to which he says, indeed he was, I then remind him that many years before we had, had a conversation in his office at Cowan Ave, about my letter to Ron Haggart over parking tickets, and he began to sort of moan over the phone saying ohhhhhhhhh as it began to dawn on him what I was talking about, and he says, I remember now.
He asks me what happened, and I explain to him in great detail, and he moans something like Jesus Christ, and then says he is going to be tied up in court for months but never mind.
You go to the Willowdale station on Princess St and tell superintendent Scott the story, and tell Superintendent Scott that I, Superintendent Geno said to make the ticket right.
On my lunch break I head to Princess St. which was not to far away and ask for Superintendent Scott, at which point I am escorted into his office.
He asks me in a very polite manner what he can do for me, and, "cancel a ticket I say".
"Why would I do that for you" he says, and I say because " Superintendent Geno told me to tell you to" he then asks me "what are you famous for" I tell him nothing it's just about the ticket problems I had, and what Superintendent Geno had said many years before.
He then asks me if I had been disrespectful of the officer, and I tell him no, but what I had done as a result of my visit to the sub station, where I had asked the desk Sargent if this was the Police Station or the crazy house.
He sort of let out a little moan, I believe thinking was this guy, meaning the desk Sergeant for real.
He then takes the ticket, and straightens it out and I hear no more about it.
Allan
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