To celebrate all things Canadian including childhood, the National Post online newspaper published a wonderful collection of short stories from forty famous Canadians about their childhood experiences supplemented with some wonderful family photographs.
I hope you enjoy reading stories from those born in Canada and those who arrived there when really young who quickly learned to make it home as much as I did. The article was circulated on social media. The full article has been shared on my Google + page.
Included in the collection was Alan Doyle. I decided to post a copy of his story here for this blog.
I have copied a photograph here that Alan shared on his official Alanthomasdoyle Instagram account. No copyright infringement intended.
“Alan Doyle… Musician and Author.
Petty Harbour, Newfoundland, is only a short drive from St. John’s, but for a 12 year old in a family with no car in the early 1980’s, the steep hills and narrow harbour of the tiny fishing village I called home might as well have been a million miles from everywhere. We had very little, but made a lot of it. I suppose, in retrospect, we had too. The first day of summer holidays was always my favourite day as we got to head directly to the wharf and start working with local fishermen in the all-consuming inshore cod fishery.
The boys’ jobs were quite simple but very important. We helped unload the day’s catch and keep the splitting tables filled and the boats’ holds clean. In exchange for our services, the fishermen let us cut out and sell the cod’s tongues, which were in high demand for local supermarkets, St. John’s restaurants and tourists alike. After a long school year with empty pockets, it felt so great to walk home with 20 or 30 or 40 bucks in your gurry stained pants. I’d tell Mom I made half of what I did and put some money away for hockey as she wished, and sneak off with 10-15 dollars to spend on whatever mischief I could get up to.
First stop would be a local swimming hole where all the guys and gals from as young as 10 to as old as late teens would gather to strip off and usher in the summer in the water. I’d do my best dives, tell my best jokes, and maybe even sing a song to try and impress the older girls there, and if the stars aligned, a fella might be lucky enough to sneak a smooch on the way home as the sun gave way to the stars.
The first day of summer in Petty Harbour was probably not much like it was in a big city like Toronto or in the mountains of Alberta or the Prairies of Saskatchewan. In Petty Harbour, the first day of summer meant for me and my friends, that we could be both adults and kids at the same time. We could work like a grown-up, but party like an adolescent. The best of both worlds in one day ".
