Jimmy Was Smart. An Inner Smart.

11/24/02 Copyright RUMBLE ON CLYDESDALE STREET
Chapter 3 “Jimmy was smart. An inner smart.”

Clydesdale Street was indeed “The Street Of Kids.” My house was just a long block east of Boundary Road. On that long block there were lots of kids. Boundary Road divided the district of Burnaby from Vancouver City.

The next block east was a steep sloping Clydesdale Street all the way down into a flat marshy, woodsy area. There were modest houses on both sides going down the hill and some small old farms along the bottomland. Big bushy areas ending Clydesdale Street as I remember it.

The Diack family house was on a large property tucked back from the streeet, and further on old Mr. Rice had lots of property much of what was covered in lowland trees, bushes, bogs and ferns. Kids were always told to stay away from that rather foreboding area, besides Mr. Rice helped a lot by chasing us away from his property and right back up the hill. Nobody remembers why he was so mean but he surely was.

The Diack's were a large family and considered by many, a rough, tough bunch. Clan tough, so it was said. Who started that story kids didn’t know. They grew up good regardless of any stories. You still never messed with the Diack's for sure. One of the boys became famous in the automobile racing circuit becoming a top notch driver.

Mr. Rice on the other hand was just plain eccentric. He never made kids welcome. If Mr. Rice caught any kid on his property the outcome could be serious said the older boys. “Some kids disappeared”, they would say. It must have been awful. We did not want to know. Toooooooo scared.

When Mr Rice wandered up Clydesdale hill to the Red & White to pick up his mail, kids would swarm his yard, chomp on his corn, stomp on his garden, grab fruit from his trees, and run like hell. Whew, everyone always got away. At least I think so.

About where Mr. Rice lived now runs Highway #1 and a little to the south sports a high-rise hotel and bustling business parks. British Columbia Institute Of Technology sits nearby.

Across from my house there was the brothers Denny and Buddy. Their father was a bricklayer and stonemason. Ironic, as my Dad’s father was a stonemason but Dad decided to become a seafaring man after he was run out of his homeland. Funny about life’s twists and turns.

My Dad’s crime was, at an age somewhat older than all of us kids, he ran fast speedboats carrying contraband between ports high in the triangle of the Adriatic. He had to leave. Young. In a hurry.

Next door to Denny and Buddy was Wayne Crossier. The family was a little reserved we thought. They seemed better for money than many others. Wayne was an okay kid and would join us in many escapades. He was to move soon. We all liked Wayne.

Then there was Roy Finchum on Manor Street, the next block up, but for all intent and purpose he was a Clydesdale Street kid. He was within earshot of the Gorrick’s and that mattered in our little lives, as we would come to thank. Apparently the Finchum's now reside somewhere in Surrey B.C.

Actually a lot of kids on Manor played with us, especially things like kick the can hide and seek, red rover, and other alley adventure. Their back yards faced onto the Clydesdale kids yards on the south side of the street. It was a natural occurance.

To the west of the Gorrick’s were the two sisters and their brother who lived together and had loads of cats. They never said much to kids and remained distant. Some of us were afraid of them but we did not seem to know why. Years later we did find out.

Across the street were the Roulette kids. Jimmy, Julius and Phyllis. Julius, who was nicknamed Nugget, was a little older as was Phyllis. Julius and Phyllis played with the younger kids but generally stuck with those a few years our senior. There sure were a lot of kids around and most within just a few years of each other. We all were definitely the War Babies.

Jimmy and I became very close friends. I really liked Jimmy. He stuttered badly. Sometimes it was difficult to understand him. Jimmy was therefore reluctant to say much and was very inward and quiet. He was not shy but refrained from long conversations and kept words to a minimum.

Although not a small kid, he was a year older, he seemed intimidated and considered slow because of the speech impediment. Sadly this caused him to repeat a year in grade school. Most unfair. Jimmy never complained. He had a special way about himself and was always interesting.

In the time many left -handed kids were converted to right-handed soon to be stuttering kids. Jimmy was one. We did not know much about it. It was not good to be a lefty back then. Urban myths were rampant. Every parent had their reasons why kids should only be right-handed.

The kids who remained left handed surely remember those horrid scratchy pen and ink tools we had. To the kids that would have been the only reason to change hands. Oh boy! It was a miracle when the ballpoint was invented.

No more writing backwards and smearing blue ink over the paper and all over clothes. I can identify with this, also being left-handed and I stayed that way too. Can’t really say if that was good or bad.

Mother’s were torn between advice that being left-handed was somehow evil or at the least made kids dim-witted. Probably there were some truths but for the most part the whole episode created circumstances that kids could not comprehend. Jimmy was smart. An inner smart, and he was funny too. He did not seem to care one way or the other.

Jimmy stuttered but he always made sense to me. He was a humble quiet kid by nature. There were very few people that carried life long influence. Jimmy was one. His vision was clear. He wanted to be a Cowboy or a Woodsman. In his life he eventually became both.

Jimmy’s Dad, Louie, was a plumber. His mother, Annie, was the most wonderful person in the world. There was no one, ever, who was as pleasant, and human. She gave every kid comfort. I adored Mrs. Roulette. One of the most amazing people I have ever known. A bright star in our solar system.

Jimmy’s Dad drove a neat black sedan car. A car was considered pretty bold but what did we know. Kids often than not simply accepted circumstance. You had one or you did not.
My Mom, Dad and I spent many kid fun weekends with Jimmy’s family. Many times taking long car rides to the banks of rivers far away and in forest covered parks like Golden Ears, where open air picnics was the family recreation of the day. Grand days chasing squirrels and playing hide and seek, wearing our holsters, pretend smoking pine cone stogies and hiding in the woods.
Jimmy and I developed a passion for the trips, the different seasons, the open wilderness, and loved campfire evenings wieners and all. Adventures we cherished and would talk about all week. Our immediate neighbourhood had much to explore as well, and, we eventually would know every corner of it.

A dark gray day I remember so well was when told Jimmy was going to move away from Clydesdale Street. His family lived in a very big house, much like Sonny Boon’s on the second block south of where we kids lived.

The big house was three stories high and stood out oddly on our block. At one time the house was an area Post Office around 1911 and it was called the Ardley P.O, then to become a general store so the stories go. Eventually the house was converted and had tenants on all three floors. The Roulette Family lived there with other relatives on separate floors.  The year, was 1948. Sadness ran deep. Jimmy was moving far south. Just south of the Grandview Highway and right on to Boundary Road, considered the great divide between Burnaby and Vancouver. I thought it was Africa.

I soon realized with a little adventure it was a bold walk up the rising landscape due south to Jimmy’s new home. A piece of cake even for little feet, providing they were not too little. Cookies were always waiting.

Everyone was so happy for the Roulette’s. Jimmy and I were sad but we were all bristling with anticipation and excitement about they having their own brand new home. The garage was already up. Jimmy’s dad was now ready to build their new big house! He never did. Jimmy’s dad died.

Mrs. Roulette stayed on their new property. She raised her kids in what was the converted little garage they had lived in while preparing to build the big house. In my world it was not a garage. I will always feel the warmth and comfort Jimmy’s little house held. I can close my eyes and there it is. Covered in care. Flanked by the well attended vegetable garden and fruit trees.

It was a most beautiful house. The little garage was a most joyous home filled with its warm crackling wood fire, Mrs. Roulette’s jolly laughter, her sparkling smile, wonderful smells of her famous home cooking and always a ready welcome to everyone who called.

The Roulette’s were family too me. I had no brothers or sisters.

Mrs. Roulette was a very special lady. She would live in the little garage house for her forever. Annie remained close to my own mom all their lives.

Julius, old Nugget, still lives in the big house that was eventually built many years later and sits right next to the little home where the kids all grew up. It sags heavily now. Age has won. The little garage leans heavily, sagging badly, and stands empty fading with time.

The little garage on the adjoining lot, with all the loving memories remained a testament to family and a very special Angel. I miss you Annie. Dearly.

Copyright
RGT