Open Writing

There was another particularly memorable incident in Prince George.

All of Canadian Pacific Airline staff began work as usual at eight a.m. one Friday. We did the usual things of checking in the passengers and freight at the office in the Prince George Hotel lobby in town before heading out to the airport.
The flights from Vancouver and Quesnel arrived on schedule. We handled the arrivals, checked in the passengers and baggage in transit and saw the flights off. We spent the afternoon, as usually, completing the paperwork and waiting for the return of the planes, The two aircraft duly arrived back on time; however we were only able to dispatch the Douglas DC3 to the town of Quesnel.

The Convair flight to Vancouver was unable to leave, as Vancouver airport was socked-in with fog. Knowing Richmond where the airport is located, I knew just how dense the fog could be in the Fraser River delta.

All the airline staff in Prince George stayed on duty for over fifty-six hours continuously until the flight finally left on Sunday afternoon at about four O’clock. The overtime pay made it very worthwhile for me, but being on duty all that time with the Teletype machine having to be attended to every hour was one of the most exhausting experiences of my life.
On the Saturday evening I was having a doughnut and cup of coffee in the hotel cafeteria where the airline office was situated, when two burly professional wrestlers, passengers in transit, approached me to ask for the umpteenth time, “When is the bloody plane leaving for Vancouver?” Tired and cranky I glowered at them and jerked my thumb upwards saying, “Don’t ask me - ask Him.” The man who spoke could have broken me in half like a twig if he had wished. His friend turned on him saying, “Hey! Leave him alone. Can’t you see the poor kid’s beat?” “Aw! Sorry kid, I didn’t mean to bother you,” the first man said putting his arm around my shoulders, “Let me buy you a cup of coffee, Huh!” I had no more trouble with them or with anyone else for the rest of the time, as they acted as my unofficial bodyguards.

A year or so later, when I was a Relief Agent for the airline, I was on my way by train from Castlegar in the interior of British Columbia to Calgary, Alberta when who should walk into the compartment but my friends the wrestlers. “Hey! Look! There’s the kid.” My previous tormentor called out at the top of his lungs. Every other person in the carriage turned and looked at me wondering what my association could possibly be with these rough-looking tattooed characters. I could have crawled through the floor. It turned out however, to be a very interesting time as I was able to ask them about the wrestling game. I found their information interesting, sad and at times very amusing.

After a year in Prince George I was offered and accepted the Relief Agent's position for Western Canada. My task would be to relieve agents or staff at various airports throughout British Columbia and Alberta.

My month as Relief Agent in Calgary was a particularly happy one as during that time I stayed with old friends from Vancouver in their rented house.

Vern Patterson, one of these men, was a most amusing character. I remember having a shower one evening when Vern burst into the bathroom stark naked and hauled me out of the cubicle saying that his priority was greater than mine as he was going out on a date.

On another occasion when Vern and I were having our first breakfast together in the Canadian Pacific Railway’s Calgary Hotel, where the airline office was located, I ordered kippers. "What's that muck you have there, Clement?" he asked. I told him that it was smoked herring from Scotland. He immediately ordered a serving for himself. He ordered kippers every time I breakfasted with him after that. Another time, I brought a can of smoked oysters home. "What's that you have this time?" he said, "It looks like snot?" I didn't have to buy any more smoked oysters for the rest of my stay. Unfortunately, being with friends during my time as a Relief Agent was rare.

I nearly lost my ears in Calgary during that period. I had forgotten to wear earmuffs when I was bringing in a plane one afternoon. When I came inside and went to rub my tingling ears a woman passenger at the counter shouted, "Don't do that! You'll rub them off." I had not realized that my ears had become frostbitten. For weeks they tingled and ached every time I went out in the cold air.

Before leaving I decided on a day’s trip to Banff. A friend of the airline agent offered to take me along with him one evening. Not being on duty the next day, I agreed. It was late autumn with snow on the road. Undaunted the driver careered along at full speed. While driving through the forest not far from Banff a herd of Elk wandered onto the road. Instead of slowing down the driver sped through them leaning on his horn. I closed my eyes as I was certain we would collect one of the animals. Fortunately, he managed to avoid the large creatures. He offered to drive me back the next day. I politely refused taking the bus back instead.

© Clement 2006