Working a January 4 PM to midnight shift in rural Manitoba, one can expect little crime and few calls for service. An accident perhaps by someone rushing home on icy roads, late for supper or the six o’clock news. No cells phones or Internet in 1976, and the city paper came late in the morning on the first eastbound bus out of Winnipeg. So if one missed the television news, the next morning coffee-shop information exchange would tend to be pretty one-sided in discussing headline events. Continue reading “Night Shift”
December of 1979 was our first of two Christmases posted at Wabowden, Manitoba, a small community located 800 kilometres north of the Canada/USA border on the last major highway system before the North Pole. This is an exaggeration, perhaps, as the Nickel Mining Capital of Canada, Thompson, lies a further 100 kilometres north of Wabowden. There the oil and gravel hardtop road transitions to rough gravel and connects to the hydro-electric town of Gillam a further 100 kilometres north. Continue reading “Christmas Chorus”
In a staggered line we followed the dusty trail through bamboo fields. Those of us with partners walked side by side, a few bound hand in hand. Introverts made an extra effort to walk alone, rabidly avoiding the perception that they were bound to anyone. Most were quiet in anticipation of their final destination. A young couple chatted in exuberant anticipation of their long anticipated bucket list item. Continue reading “Bathing Gen Thong”
It’s 9:48 am on a bright sunny day in July, 1980 in the northern Manitoba town of Wabowden. Home to about 500 residents at that time, Wabowden was also the regional office of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and the largest whistle stop for the Canadian National Railway travelling between The Pas and Thompson. Normally if I was patrolling in town, I would park my police car alongside the tracks as a train moved slowly into the station. I enjoyed watching the faces of tourists staring out of the train car windows, curious as to why this specific town was located in the middle of seemingly barren land. But today, I was a waiting passenger for the scheduled northbound stop at 9:52 am. Continue reading “Patrol Cabin Cookbook”
A noise woke him from his sleep. It was after midnight and the house was dark except for a shadow of a light somewhere downstairs. The noise was a shadow as well, of someone doing something in a quiet way, so as not to disturb. But this subtle noise was what woke the man, likely faster than a car horn blaring from blocks away. This was his house; he was attuned to its voice. Continue reading “CRUMBS”
Six in the morning and the phone is ringing on my bedside table. I reach for it and answer without even opening my eyes; such is the learned talent and skill of a police officer “on call”. In 1974, many detachments lacked the number of officers required to work 24/7 shifts. “Quiet” times were always covered by off-duty officers taking calls. Continue reading “Jigger Justice”
I have not written in my blog for a few months now. I’ve tried, but I am blocked. Although my stories are not chronological, there is one that must be told before I can move on.
My Father died on June 8th, 2017. The previous month he was golfing three days a week and driving himself to the golf course as if he was 35. Continue reading “Bobby”