WINDSOR

Written by Ronald Mizon
Published on January 2018

After a few days at my new school I began to settle down, but I found the lessons strange compared to Mount Uniacke, and difficult. 

They appeared to me on a higher plain.  Looking back now, I think I ought to have been placed in a lower class and then gradually worked up as things came within my ability.  The French baffled me for a start – reading, speaking – or trying to – or writing was hopeless and I felt like a real duffer compared to my fellow pupils. I never had much tuition before and when we sang the National Anthem, well, the less said about that the better! I did manage to enjoy the company of my two fellow students who, at first, treated me like someone from another planet, asking about England once the word circulated around about my origin.  The usual questions were asked: where did I live, air raids and crossing the Atlantic in wartime.  Everyone was so interested I think I could have sold notes on it all.  At lunch times Pickle, my seat companion, and Lorna, would take me around Windsor and show me the Park, docks and the shopping area and the inevitable “5c and Dime” as it was called then.  

At the end of the school week I was let loose, as it were, with my Uniacke friends who naturally were curious as to where I had been all week.  After explaining my absence I think they were envious of my good fortune.  They would have changed their minds if they knew how I was struggling. 

After about six weeks I began to wish I had taken Uncle George’s offer of a pony instead of going to the Academy. 

However, I was allowed to ride on the work horses when I sometimes brought them in from the meadow.  My new friend (who had previously punched me in the eye) found a little shelter in the woods around Pentz’s Lake made of spruce and pine branches.  This fired our imagination and so Gerald and I hit on the idea of a nook of our own but we would go one better, we would build a log cabin!   

When I think of it now, the idea is laughable.  Anyway, we chose a little copse near his home.  We started by chopping down a good sized spruce.  When it was down and we were stripping the branches off we both realized just what we were taking on.  We talked about it and gradually talked ourselves out of this magnificent plan. 

Later on I built a small shed near the mill at Uniacke from bits of planking I sourced around the area.  It wasn't very big, it had a secret entrance in the roof.  I must have been a bit loopy as I had no one to share it with me.  Gerald lived at least a mile from me.  I soon gave it up.  I sometimes wonder who eventually discovered it when I left Uniacke and what they thought about it and the reason for its construction.  

At weekends I began to associate with the older boys, Ray Pentz and George Phinney.  George would borrow the family car and we would cruise around the area sometimes over to South Uniacke.  George was the son of the owner of the "Phinney" music company in Halifax and was always whistling and singing.  Hardly surprising I suppose seeing his Dad owned a music store.  They had a small bungalow opposite Pentz's farm.  

The war was heating up now and Canada's sons answered the call.  I think Ray went into the Navy, Harry Mumford went to be a soldier.  Joe Parker went into the RCAF.  Sadly, he didn't return. 

Back at Windsor, Pickle and I became pals and after his lunch at home he would return and keep me company until the afternoon session.  Afternoons passed very quickly and the teacher had to remind me to catch my train home.  It was necessary to leave school no later than 3:20 PM.  Like this, I missed more tuition.  Was I going to manage as well as doing homework? 

 One day at lunch time Pickle and I wandered down to the River Avon to look at the ships loading there.  One in particular was loading lumber (maybe Cole’s lumber?).  She had the British Merchant flag on her stern.  Her home port was painted out due to wartime restrictions.  One of the sailors spoke to us and it transpired that it was bound for Middlesbrough, England.  What a surprise!  I introduced myself and I gave him my Mum and Dad’s address.  Months later I received a letter from them and they told me that they had entertained this sailor from the dockside at Windsor.  They were so pleased to hear from him that I was looking well.  Also, Bessie was doing well.  What a thrill that he had made contact with them!  Alas, we never heard from him again.  Hopefully he survived the war.