Dad was a welder by trade and worked all over Ontario and Quebec, Canada, from the early 1950s until about 1979. He really liked this kind of work and he was very good at it, too. After we moved to British Columbia in 1979, Dad welded mostly for himself (like repairs on his MACK dump truck), but also for neighbors when they asked for his help with a project.
Trucking was Dad’s second favorite job, whether it was in partnership with his brother Ray building roads in the mountains between Hope and Boston Bar (here in B.C.) in the 1980s or when he drove snow plow trucks for the local highways department in the winter months to supplement his income.
Dad didn’t belong to service or sports clubs, not because he didn’t think they weren’t worthwhile, but because he liked the freedom to choose what he wanted to do and when he wanted to do it.
In the 1960s, Dad liked fishing, particularly for doré (I think it's walleye in English), abundant in Ontario where we lived. He had the usual gear, like fishing rods, reels, and tackle. What I liked best of all that stuff were the fly lures. At six or seven years old, I found their multi-coloured feathers pretty to look at, but nasty if I accidently pricked myself with a barbed hook.
Dad discovered the fun of CB radios in the 1970s. He was quite the enthusiast and bought himself a base station, desk mic, and an antenna tower.
When Dad more or less retired from trucking in the 1990s, he took up metal detecting. He treasure-hunted everywhere, from the field across the road by our house, to English Bay beach in Vancouver. When he and Mom travelled in the summer, Dad made sure his metal detector went with him.
|Metal detecting at English Bay, Vancouver (1996)|
Copyright © 2018, Yvonne Demoskoff.