More than bricks and mortar

(July 21) - It’s always good to keep things. On a big picture, think about the Mitchell farm house. It used to be on Paisley Street. Now it’s gone. Armel knocked it over. The best we can do now is describe it to future generations.

They won’t ever see for themselves what it looked like, or the place it held in the development of our community. It was John Lennon who wrote that you’ll never know where you’re going if you don’t know where you’re coming from.

Heritage is more than bricks and mortar. It isn’t just abstract history. It is personal. It is important that we preserve and marvel at the pieces of history we uncover. Some take us by complete surprise. Let me backtrack here and explain what I’m thinking about.

My dad recently had his 90th birthday. It was on May 4, the day after Pete Seeger had his 90th. In the couple of months since then, he started to feel his age. Things happen to your body and mind after they’ve worked for nine decades. There’s not much you can do to stop it. He’s still on the green side of the ground, and that alone is worthy of celebration.

My younger brother and I are getting ready to exercise powers of attorney and make sure things flow smoothly when they start flowing. As part of this, I went through his boxes and drawers and briefcases last Friday. I was sorting out the financial bits and pieces of his life in 2009. It was an endeavour tailor-made for running off on tangents. While looking for something else, you find photos of events you had forgotten to remember. You get lost, for a while, in the memories. Then you get back to separating Bell bills from Visa statements, prescription receipts from rent receipts.

Suddenly you get blind-sided by a treasure trove of things you didn’t think could be kept this long: a document holder with priceless links to youth and a journey from the east end of London to the heart of Ontario.

On April 2, 1933, a month before his 14th birthday, he was enrolled in the London County Council Trade Scholarships for Boys. His father had to sign an agreement that if the apprenticeship was unsuccessful he would pay “an amount equivalent to the sum expended by the Council in connection with the maintenance, education and training of my son … or the sum of (five pounds), whichever be the less.”

The documents track his progress through the Westminster Technical Institute School of Cookery and Waiting, through his navy years and his work contracts. A record of active naval service shows him on HMS Hood from May 15 until Dec. 22, 1940. Hood went down in May 1941 with three survivors from a crew of 1,415.

I found his employment offer for the job that brought us to Canada in 1957. While working for BOAC at London airport, he successfully applied for a job posting with Aircraft Industries of Canada Ltd. The employment contract was for $1.75 per hour and benefits as covered by the collective agreement with Local 4575 of the United Steelworkers of America. He signed it in England in February 1957 and sailed for Canada in March. We followed in August.

Serendipity is the accidental discovery of something that brings new meaning to completely unrelated events.

It is what makes searches fun. I was looking for bank statements and found my father’s youth.

Heritage isn’t only bricks and mortar. It’s also flesh and blood. We don’t just remember it, we breathe it.