" H "


H. was of Ukrainian decent, had a name that couldn't be pronounced, and worked as a Carman, at Bathurst St in the early 1960s. "H" fancied himself a practical joker, and he was of course, as were most others on the Railroad to a varying degree. I was in the East End, North side shanty at the bottom of the hill that leads to Simcoe St. Shed, where the switchtender who operated the puzzle switch was located. I was preparing to phone in an update of a train being made up, and when I put the phone to my ear I felt something funny. When I put my hand to my ear to see what it was, I was surprised that it came back covered in black goo. Someone had doctored the phone with thick black grease, that I got all around the side of my head not to mention inside my ear. I had to go back to the office to clean the side of my head off, and my ear our, which was difficult as this grease went right into my ear. This pissed me off more than it would have if this was directed at me, just the random nature of the deed made me mad. Anyone could have gotten caught this way, and it just happened to be me. I had to go back to the North Side and went into the Car Dept. first as this was the most likely place this type of grease would come from. I questioned a few Carmen, and deduced that it was "H" and when I found out I cooled off, figuring I will get him in the future some time.

The next day I was date stamping the Bills for a train that I had just processed, when "H" comes into the office with a coffee and two packaged doughnuts he had just bought from the coffee man who had just came, and lays the coffee and doughnuts beside the bills I was date stamping. As I am date stamping he says, I guess I got you good yesterday, and as soon as he said that I saw red, and he could tell because he started to move, but not fast enough. I stamped his doughnuts squashing them, and then the coffee, sending it flying all over the office at the same time I was calling him a few choice names at the top of my lungs, everyone in the office looking up to see everything in motion, as well as "H" who by this time was heading for the door, but again not fast enough, as he was going through my boot caught him, on his way out. O f course a lot of the people in the office never knew about the grease in my ear especially the main line Brakemen who were waiting for their Bills. People were asking me what had just happened, and I told them. I never saw "H" the rest of the day. The next day I go into the Car Department and there is "H" with his legs up on the table leaning back, exposing his leg which was all black and blue. I asked him what happened to his leg and he says that's where you kicked me yesterday. I thought good, but said oh that's to bad, I didn't mean for that to happen, and he thinks LIAR, LIAR, and he would have been right.

" Mr. Dressup "

Back in 60's John Brown, the newly appointed Office Assistant, he had been the Chief Clerk on days which was a scheduled job, which you would get by bid, heard through that we were going to get a visit to Bathurst St. the next day by some Vice. President, or another, and told everyone they would have to come to work the next day with a white shirt and tie, which I didn't even own. Most of the guys on the day shift were generally dressed up pretty good anyway, so Jim Pettie, my brother Max and myself figured that these comments were addressed at us three that generally came dressed as bums, compared to the rest of the office. I said , that I didn't even own a white shirt, and Jim and Max made some other comments, and we argued with John to no avail, he was insistent, so I acquiesced and beckoned to Jim and Max to do the same thing, so they did and came to me later and asked if I was crazy . I told them of my plan, they kind of chuckled and indicated they would go along with it somehow.

We all went home that day determined to figure out a plan of action, and I knew what my plan was right away, and had thought of it while John was admonishing us on what to do for the next day. When I got home I asked my mother if she had one of my stepfathers old white shirts that were ready for the rag bag, and she said she did. My stepfather was probably a medium build while I was extra large, and could hardly get into it. After I did get into the shirt I shrugged my shoulders, and in doing so tore the shirt to shreds, so that it looked like ribbons, I then asked my mother for one of my stepfathers old ties, and was ready for the next day.

The next day bright and early I drove to work with my normal T shirt, but when I got there I took it off and put on the shredded one, but not before throwing it on the ground making it dirty, then tied on the old tie with a granny not, and went into the office, bare back showing under the badly torn shirt. Everyone there kind of stared but no one said a thing. I thought John Brown's eyes were going to pop out of his head, he comes over to me and says you can't stay here like that, at which time I told him it was his idea for me to wear the white shirt and tie, and I had no intention of going home now, and about this time Jim Pettie comes i n with a white T shirt on with a tie painted, with crayons, down the middle, and Max then enters with a cardboard tie that he had designed and painted himself tied to a white T shirt with a straight pin. I thought John was going to have a fit, anyway no dignitary ever did come to the office that day, and my guess is that that was John Brown's longest day at work, and it took five years before anyone ever tried to tell me how to dress, which turned out to be a minor disaster for the person doing so.

John Brown was one of those characters that worked on the Railroad, he wasn't really Yard Office material, he was better suited to working in a real office like the one he had come from at Simcoe St. but I think he would rather be a big fish in a little pond, rather than a little one in the lake. John was in charge of the supplies, and one day in passing I asked him for a pencil and he asks me for the stub of the old one, and I'm thinking he can't be for real, but make up some excuse for not having it, and he gives me one. I mention this to Bobby May who says, John is a little weird, next time you ask him for a, pencil tell him I didn't think he would give you one. The next time I needed a pencil from him I go to him and say I need a pencil John but Bobby May said he didn't think you would give me one, and he says, is that right, come with me. John takes me into the supply room and gives me a whole box of pencils, it seems you had to use reverse psychology on him. John was a real nice guy but it took a hell of an effort, and work, to find that out, which I did, and in spite of his quirks, grew to greatly appreciate him, as I think he did with me.

John Asked me to his house in New Toronto one day, for some reason or another and when I went and knocked on the door a little old lady answered the door, and when I told her that I wanted John she invited me in and said John was doing something and would be with us shortly but would I like a cup of tea, to which I said yes. The old girl must have been over ninety and the oldest person I had ever met up to that time, and when John appears he introduces me to his mother, who lived with him. I thinks John's wife had died, anyway we had a nice visit and talk, and I thought how nice John is just about ready for pension and is taking care of his mother. After that one day I ask John if he would like to go up to the cottage fishing one day, and he said that he would but could his son come along, as he would have to drive him, to which I said sure. John comes up with his son one weekend and we have a great time, and John's son the the polar opposite of the persona John tried to cultivate at work, a really great guy. He was also home for only a short time, because as I understand it he worked in Europe, a short time after that was when John retired.