A Good Pair of Boots and a Road to Walk On: All I Ever Wanted

By C H Evers

This book details the foot travels of a young impressionable boy in the middle of the last century. Being enticed by the call of the long winding road, he foot travels Canada's landscapes in all provinces coast to coast. With this desire to explore his homeland, He seeks to experience the unique smells, taste, and textures of every terrain o

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hugh Evers
• Release date: Jan 14, 2019
• ISBN: 9781999552527

C H Evers

Living outside of Sarnia Ontario where he has built his own home, the author now retired divides his time between being a hobbyist woodworker and part time musician. He finds great enjoyment travelling the Sarnia locality with other like-minded musicians entertaining and playing music for the elderly in retirement homes.

Book preview

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Contents

Prologue

Introduction

Chapter 1

The Boots

Chapter 2

Work on the Farm

Chapter 3

First the Army, then Europe

Chapter 4

Ten Years On …

Chapter 5

The Credit Bureau Incident

Chapter 6

A Book CalledShow Me!

Chapter 7

Twelve Long Guns in my Kitchen

Chapter 8

Baldwin Avenue

Chapter 9

Connecting the Past

Chapter 10

Telephone Harassment

Chapter 11

Tim Hortons

Chapter 12

The Summer of 2010

More Roads, Another Time, More Turbulence

Acknowledgements

Appendices

© CH Evers 2015. This edition 2018.

Plympton Wyoming, Ontario, Canada.

I declare, I am the Author, Owner, Writer,Publisher, of all images in book of A Road To Walk On.

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication can be reproduced in any form, or by any means, electronic or mechanical,including photocopying recording, or any information browsing, storage,or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

ISBN (hardcover): 978-1-9995525-0-3

ISBN (paperback): 978-1-9995525-1-0

ISBN (ebook): 978-1-55525-2-7

Biography & Autobiography, Personal Memoirs

Printed by IngramSpark

Prologue

I’m sitting in a coffee

shop reading the morning paper when another patron leans over, eyes glinting, and pointing to a story says, Those terrorists are pretty scary, no? I’m tempted to say to him, The ones here in the paper don’t scare me nearly as much as the one in my neighbourhood, a terrorist in his own way whose weapons aren’t guns and bombs, just his automobile and his malicious poisonous tongue. But I’m not looking for a conversation this morning, so I agree vaguely and he moves away into his small world.

* * *

We’ll be meeting my neighbour again soon, and you, the reader, can form your own opinion about his actions and his state of mind. First, though, speaking of a person’s actions and state of mind, I’d like you to meet the person who is the main character in the newspaper story below.

A News Story…

WEAPON RESTRICTION

Judge Dismisses Appeal

(Sarnia Observer, Wednesday, November 24, 1976)

An appeal by Cyril Evers

of Forest against an earlier RCMP commissioner’s decision to revoke his permit to own a restricted weapon was dismissed by Judge J. C. Dunlap in provincial court at Sarnia, Tuesday.

Evidence indicated that Evers has been held in a mental hospital and involved in incidents with police, Lambton County Crown Attorney Andrew Lang and others in which he showed belligerence.

After hearing about two hours of appeal testimony, Judge Dunlap said if this was the evidence laid before the RCMP commissioner, it was sufficient to revoke Evers’ permit to own restricted weapons.

Mr. Lang testified that June 5, 1974, he saw Evers in the corridor outside one of the provincial courtrooms at Sarnia after Evers had appeared on a charge of causing a public disturbance, a charge that was either dismissed or withdrawn.

The case involved Evers’ upset at pornography being sold at a local store. Mr. Lang said Evers began talking to him about doing something about a certain store selling pornography.

He said Evers appeared to be the type who easily lost control of himself. Mr. Lang said during the course of his confrontation with Evers, he felt threatened and fearful.

At a later time, Mr. Lang met with two doctors who told him certain information. As a result, he asked them to testify at a hearing before a Justice of the Peace under the Mental Health Act. As a result of the hearing, a warrant for Evers’ arrest was issued under the Act, he said.

Under cross-examination, Mr. Lang said Mr. Evers has no criminal record to his knowledge. He said Evers did not touch him during the confrontation in the corridor.

A doctor at the St. Thomas Psychiatric Hospital testified June 28, 1974 and was discharged [sic] October 17, 1974. The records indicate Evers was a threat to himself and others, said the doctor.

A female OPP officer testified she was stopped while operating a police cruiser in April 1975. She said he asked her if she was a cop, to which she replied, Yes. She said he used profanity and He said when the OPP hired women they legalized prostitution.

On another occasion in January of this year, at Lambton College where she was taking a course, Evers approached and called her a split-tail, she said. On neither occasion did he use force or threaten to use force, she said.

Constable Larry McCabe of Forest OPP testified he did a routine check of a vehicle occupied by Evers and his wife about 4:45 a.m. July 27, 1975 in Plympton Park near Evers’ home. He said he detected an odour of intoxicant on Evers’ breath but, after running a CPIC check, determined Evers was not breaking any law. He said he then suggested Evers should go home.

As the officer walked back to his cruiser from Evers’ car, Evers bounded from his vehicle and ran after the officer shouting, Who is going to make me? testified Constable McCabe. As the officer approached his cruiser, Evers continued to shout and ran up to the cruiser, he said. Constable McCabe admitted he then told Evers to f… off.

As the officer drove off, Evers continued to chase him on foot, he said. Constable McCabe said he later learned Evers had called the Forest OPP detachment to talk to someone regarding the officer’s remark to him.

Corporal Orval Whiteside of the Forest OPP testified he went to Evers’ residence about 4:55 a.m. the same day to talk to him regarding his complaint about Constable McCabe. He said Evers told him he didn’t want to talk to an idiot like you in my home.

The two then went out to the laneway of the residence where they talked, he said. When asked his occupation, Evers told the officer he was a gentleman, he said. He said Evers used obscene language in the presence of Evers’ wife during the conversation. Corporal Whiteside said he is not sure Constable McCabe made the profane remark to Evers but he hoped police officers would not conduct themselves in such a manner.

Another Forest OPP corporal said Evers allowed him to handle the matter in his own way and appeared satisfied with the way it was resolved. The corporal said he discussed the matter with Constable McCabe, who was reprimanded.

Evers testified he uttered no threats to Mr. Lang and did not intend to assault [or] threaten McCabe when he got out of his car and went toward him. He said he just didn’t want the officer to slam Evers’ vehicle door.

Joe Foreman, attorney for Evers, said the evidence indicates only that Evers has little respect for certain police officers and a certain lack of respect [sic] considering the incident with Constable McCabe.

Mr. Foreman said Evers had had guns for 11 years and has never misused them, according to the evidence.

Roderick Cormack, representing the Crown, told Judge Dunlap evidence indicates that on one occasion Evers knocked over a woman who was seven months pregnant. He said Evers was incarcerated in a mental institution, is belligerent and should not possess a restricted weapon.

Judge Dunlap said Constable McCabe was involved in a mix up with Evers but he would have to find there were acts of threats to the officer from Evers. There is no doubt that he becomes emotionally disturbed over certain matters, one being pornography, said the judge.

Hugh Evers

Memoirs

A foot travel guide and more...

Introduction

All I ever wanted…was a

good pair of boots and a road to walk on, and in 1954 that is all I ever really wanted. That apparent simple desire at that time stands in stark and obvious contrast to the glaring story in the Sarnia Observer of 1976 (Judge Dismisses Appeal) twenty-two years later.

I am that Cyril Evers of the story. I am also known as Hugh. It is my intention to take the reader on a journey that will fill in the cavities and blanks of those many years from that simple desire and that destructive and glaring newspaper story. I will show the reader what happened and how I got there. I know very well why I had a desire and a need for a good pair of boots! I do not know why or how I had a desire or need to walk on a road.

This true story is an in-depth account of certain parts of my life, starting with the innocence of a trusting teenager and ending with how I perceive today’s often cruel and hypocritical world. It is also an account of my attempts to expose the fraud, corruption and the devastating exposure and wrath that I brought upon myself by way of the courts as well as the community at large.

Some of the language I have used, as well as my opinions and impressions, may be objectionable or even offensive to some readers. However, I make no apologies for that as I am merely writing what I feel is necessary and what I heard and saw.

Chapter 1

The Boots

In 1952, my parents moved

from northern Ontario to a small rural community near Sarnia, Ontario. We never had much more than the well-known pot or the door to empty it from, but that was okay. I didn’t notice at that time; I wasn’t really counting. I was thirteen years old. We lived about five miles from Sarnia and to get to town I hitchhiked. I decided to join the Air Cadets. I had a fascination with airplanes. The main reason, I understand now, was that nice set of clothes (the uniform) you got for nothing, the first ever pair of trousers I had that were creased. You were however not issued boots—these you had to purchase yourself. This presented a problem. I had no money, nor the means to earn it. I was, though, in possession of a pair that I wore all the time, the only footwear that I had. Badly beat up and in urgent need of repair. I was determined to make them do. These boots needed resoling; the leather was cracked and weathered, the tops had separated from the soles on the outside of both right and left boot. To fix this problem I pulled more leather down to the soles and hammered in tacks from the top on each boot then tried to conceal the mess with lots of shoe polish. I fixed the crack. But wearing them through the evening, especially in parade and inspection, was very embarrassing! I have never since that time been without good footwear.

School and the Road

After our move to near Sarnia, I went to a one-room country school similar to the one I had previously attended in northern Ontario. I always found school boring with no particular connection to my interests. I had a difficult time enduring class or participating in school activities. I don’t feel I was unruly or a problem, I just could not apply myself or focus on the curriculum in either school. It was even more difficult to concentrate in my new school because straight out back of the school were the railroad tracks, and the activity and traffic on those tracks had my full attention. Coach or passenger rail cars held no attraction for me, but the freight cars and where they were going, well that was different. I just had a need to hike those tracks. And there were times I almost did. If I saw a road, I just had a desire to walk it to its end.

At this time, I knew that as soon as I was released from the confining school life I would be gone. I was even beginning to feel insulted by the immaturity and interests of the other students. Still to this day, I have that need to indulge and explore! So when I graduated from Grade 8 elementary school at the age of fifteen in 1953, I was given an option by my mother: if I got a job before the summer’s end, I would not have to return to school in the fall.

The law at that time stated that a child had to stay in school until the age of 16. My birthday was in January, so for a difference of four months I guess I was forgiven.

My Job at Rosen’s Furniture Store

I got a job that summer at Rosen’s Furniture store in Sarnia. My pay was twenty dollars a week out of which I paid ten dollars a week room and board. I was on my way to saving money for the following spring when I knew I was going to be gone on my journey. My time of employment at the furniture store was for the most part uneventful except for one incident that stands out and warrants comment. My job description was warehouse worker and truck helper. In the warehouse it was my duty to stack and store all incoming freight and keep the truck well clear for new incoming furniture. To do this I had to lower a rope and pulley through a trap door to the garage floor below, tie on a piece of incoming freight, then run upstairs and pull the piece up by hand to the floor above.

This day a new shipment had just arrived. The driver and I had finished unloading it from the truck and placed it on the truck well floor. All freight was signed for as received in good condition. After the truck left, I went upstairs, opened the trap door and lowered the pulley to begin pulling up the furniture. I went down in the truck well and pulled into place, as my first piece to hoist, a 21-inch Admiral television console, at that time an extremely heavy and bulky item. I made a double loop with another rope and passed it around the television top to bottom. I passed the double loop through itself at the top, pulled the rope down tight on the piece to be pulled up, and then took the block end of the pulley with the hook and placed the hook through the loop I’d made to pull up the TV. I went upstairs and began pulling on the rope and pulley with the TV attached. It was all I could do to get it to the upper floor level because it was so bulky and heavy. I proceeded to swing the load from over the trap hole onto the floor when the rope I was pulling on slipped off the hook and the TV went crashing to the concrete floor below with a very loud noise and crash, a twelve-foot drop. Strangely enough it crashed straight down with such precision that the carton and crating were all left intact with no outward signs of breakage or damage. However, just moving the piece of freight after it crashed one knew things were not right inside as the picture tube of the TV had fallen right to the bottom. Where the picture tube was supposed to be was an empty void.

I think it was just sent in as an insurance claim and looked after that way. I was very relieved. I would have had to be an employee for a very long time to pay back the cost of that TV on twenty dollars a week. Anyway, by that spring of 1954, I was sixteen years old and I had saved up seventy dollars. I was ready to get my boots and hit the road.

My First Experience of the Road

I had already made up my mind many years earlier that the road would take me west. As it turned out, an aunt of mine who had a cousin living in Saskatchewan (Gull Lake) had made a trip east to Ontario to purchase a new car and was returning home. It was agreed I would ride as far as Regina with him. It would give him company and provide for me a transitional entry to being on my own. I was not really in favour of this plan, but I went along with it mostly to please all concerned. I think it was almost a four-day trip by car at that time because travelling in Canada meant you had to pass through northern Ontario by way of Kapuskasing, Hearst and Longlac, a long ride and all gravel roads through this area. As it happened, most of the trip was pouring rain and low temperatures and I realized that, under the conditions, I was fortunate to have this assistance to start my journey.

I was let out of this vehicle late in the afternoon north of Regina, Saskatchewan, in a steady rainfall with surely more to come by the look of the sky and the strong wind blowing.

So, reader, I am going to say that I was scared and I was humbled; that road did not appear as inviting as I had imagined it would. This was now serious business. All I carried in clothing was in a small pack I purchased in a war surplus store. It held a plastic rain poncho, three extra pairs of socks, a jacket, a hunting belt knife, matches, a short piece of fish line, and some fishhooks. On my feet were my military boots that I also purchased at the war surplus store and these I was very proud of.

I stood there for a while in shock and thought of my situation. It was starting to rain harder and it was getting colder. I put on my jacket and rain poncho and started to walk north toward Saskatoon. I walked for about ten minutes and what had seemed so bleak and worrisome a few minutes before now turned into an exhilarating and challenging experience. I was living and doing what I had dreamed of: no restrictions, all roads, all directions, all the time to explore and experience.

Wow, I am getting excited and exhilarated again just writing this! I felt as right and confident at that moment as I do now writing it. I walked for about another fifteen minutes, hitchhiking, and was offered a ride by a local farmer who said he was only travelling a few miles. I remember trying to read in his face his thoughts and/or his feelings that he might have been thinking of my situation and I think his face showed concern, maybe because of my obvious age and considering the weather and the time of day. I declined the ride and assured him that I was okay, thanked him very much and wished him well, I said goodbye and closed the door. I did not feel very good. I immediately decided that I had to have a code of conduct, ethics, manners and protocol, my Rules of the Road and I made up my mind to adhere to them faithfully.

Rules of the Road

Some strict rules of the road (code of conduct):

Rule #1: Do not be caught in a compromising situation, i.e., do not appear to be a victim. Do not let people see you at your worst; always appear as if I am in total control and the author of my situation. (I would not be a victim. I insisted that I would hitchhike with dignity.)

Rule #2: Avoid hitchhiking in built up areas. (I would find that a very big obstacle while travelling is cities, not just the core but also the outlying areas. Rule # 2 meant I had to walk across or around cities. In large cities this could mean an eight – or ten-mile walk, and not the kind of country road and exploratory walk I envisioned when starting the journey. I did not like cities. Cities had crime, and lifestyles that were troublesome and restrictive. This was not what I was after. Cities cramped my lifestyle, took away my comfort and feelings of goodwill, security and sense of adventure.

Reader, here I must take some space to explain why cities cramp my lifestyle and take away my comfort. Have you ever questioned why cities have so many transient and homeless people? It is because cities make it attractive and easy for them to survive and or hide. In 1970, I travelled west with my family on a holiday and covered many of the roads that I had travelled in the earlier years hitchhiking and road walking although, of course, on this later trip I was travelling in very different circumstances. I was driving and spending evenings in motels and paying for comfort. This was just after the Trudeau government came to power when he promoted a program where he felt it would be a rewarding and exhilarating experience for youth to travel Canada. We were returning home travelling east after leaving Regina and I saw the most distressful and hurtful scene! Lined up four deep for a hundred yards were sandals, roman beads, lawn-chairs, signs, umbrellas, patched jeans, headbands, luggage, favoured pets, long hair and attitude: I am here; I am in your face and you owe me.

When I say four deep and a hundred yards long, I am exaggerating, of course, but the essence of what I’m saying is true. These vagabonds, vagrants, were lying, lounging, sitting, sleeping, standing and playing. No one was walking. And, yes, they had cargo: backpacks, sleeping bags, bedrolls, lawn chairs, luggage and pets. I think the picture and scene speaks of the position of these people: We will not venture another step without the assurance of a ride or at least some assistance in food or lodging. Also, what I am sure was obvious: "We shall not leave the comfort and security of this spot (this side of the highway) because this patch of land is ours and an umbilical cord to Mother Regina, if and when we say so, if and when we need it." What was very obviously absent were the press. These people had not yet learned how to exploit this or else the press did not see the true value and potential of the situation. Now back to the rules.

Rule #3: Never pair up. No driver feels good about picking up two hikers and another person hiking with me would have been an impairment, a handicap, and in every aspect a nuisance.

Rule #4: (related to Rule # 3). Do not hitchhike in sight of another person hitchhiking. If an area of a highway had a person on it hitchhiking, it was my obligation to walk until I was out of sight of that hiker. Drivers do not like to stop for one person when there are others in the same area. They feel responsible or they feel guilty for not picking up both, and picking up both is bad. I would never put anyone in a position where they would feel guilty for not stopping.

Rule #5: When hitchhiking, I always walked backwards so the oncoming driver could observe me to his advantage and I could also observe him. And, very important, the first sign you know he will not pick you up is that the car will start moving to the centre line and will start to cross it. You immediately turn your back on that vehicle and start walking forward. He is not interested.

I have experienced hikers who will be so aggressive as to leave the shoulder of the road and walk right out onto the pavement insisting they be picked up and force the car right over into the oncoming lane.

Rule #7: (The ultimate golden rule.) Keep walking, never stop. Make sure your potential ride knows you will still make it without him. I say him because I would never hitchhike, women. There were no cougars at this time in Canada’s collective history.

I want to state here and now that I created by my own hand a style and a mode of travelling, designed by myself and for myself, that proved very effective. I lived this lifestyle for four years. During that time and since then, I have never witnessed or talked to anyone who followed this pattern or had any code of conduct or plan. (No, reader, I have not forgotten that I am walking in the pouring rain north of Regina, Saskatchewan! It’s 1954 I am sixteen years of age. There will be more of this protocol of the road later. I return now to my situation in the rain north of Regina.

Walking in Regina

I have been walking now for an hour or two. It is raining steadily but not a real downpour; traffic is light, there are few vehicles. It is late afternoon and near dark. At that time, in 1954, motels were just starting to make their mark on Canada’s roadways and they were just non-existent where I was walking north of Regina. Being green and inexperienced as I was, I felt I had no choice but to give in to the circumstances and walk back to Regina’s core and find a cheap hotel for the night. It is strange but this is something I would never have done after becoming a seasoned foot traveller. I would have found shelter somewhere with no retreating or just continue walking. I could not afford the expenditure of a room as my funds were down to around sixty dollars by this time. Purchasing meals and shared lodging did that from Sarnia to Regina.

I walked back to downtown Regina and there I purchased a room at an average hotel for two dollars. I was soaked from the knees down: boots, socks, war surplus khakis, and canvas backpack. I laid everything out to dry on and near the radiator in the room and had a good sleep till daybreak. I believe the sun was shining the next morning. I felt really anxious to get on the road and I did. I remember thinking about my doubts and anxieties the previous night and I was a little bit embarrassed because of them. However, with certainty I can say that they never returned ever with all the miles and time I spent on the road travelling east or west.

As I continue this story, the reader will see that I was put in many strange and provocative situations that could give reason for regret or doubt about continuing, but I never doubted and I never regretted.

I do not now remember my first ride or how far it was. I do not remember what I did for breakfast. I walked for a good two hours to get out of Regina on the same route that had I travelled the evening before. I was not used to all the open country and vast expanse of prairie and I was told that, by travelling north, I would see wooded areas and mature trees. This never happened. I went to Saskatoon, North Battleford, Lloydminster, Edmonton, then straight south toward Red Deer. At this point and time in my life, road tripping did not require a lot of decision making about direction or where I went as long as I was moving and experiencing and exploring. I don’t remember how long it took me to get to Edmonton or how many rides I had or how far I walked. The weather, I think, was always overcast but without rain and not really cold. This journey was not noteworthy as I remember it and I was very happy to be doing what I was doing, enjoying the country scenery and fresh air. I was not impressed with Edmonton; it was just another big obstacle to walk around without scenery, as all roads were built up with residences and/or businesses.

The Road South to Red Deer

Reader, I am reaching back in my life about sixty years, so please be forgiving if there are errors or corrections. I was heading south now for warmer weather and the Big One, my one major reason for going west and one of the few times a city would be welcome: Calgary and southern Alberta and the big ranches and the Rocky Mountains. And old 78 RPM records I could never get enough of: Wilf Carter telling story after story, song after song about Alberta plains, prairie sunsets, and horses that couldn’t be rode about love, life and hardships on the Alberta plains.

The Road to Red Deer

A strange incident happened south of Red Deer. It was my first bad experience so far on my journey. I was about to meet the first sexual cripple in my short life. Although I understand now that there are millions of these people, at that time in my life I did not know this. I can say with all confidence that I was certain at the time what made them that way, and I still feel that way today.

I was walking south heading to Calgary on a really decent day. The sun was shining and I already had a few hours sleep in the sun. I did this a lot if the nights in the bush were particularly tough or extra cold even with a fire. I remember that it was a newer vehicle with one lone male operator. Nothing signalled a caution or warning to flag this guy as a problem. I don’t remember now what his occupation was. I suspect he might have been a salesperson, as they were always a good hope for a ride. There were many travelling in that occupation. They loved to talk and company was a plus for them.

We engaged in normal small talk. He had a lot of questions for me such as where I was going and where I was from. When I told him that I was interested in southern Alberta and Calgary and the large ranches, he made claim to being a rider and horse owner and said that he lived in Calgary.

We had travelled perhaps twenty miles when he started to fidget and adjust the crotch area of his trousers. Then he commented that his shorts were too tight and that they were very uncomfortable, and that he just had to pull off the road and fix the problem. He drove the car off the road onto high ground about 200 feet out of sight of the highway and parked. He said he would be a minute, got out and went into the brush. I always carried a road map and to give the guy his privacy I made a real effort to do that and kept myself engrossed studying my map and contemplating the miles to Calgary. Gradually, I realized the guy had been gone what seemed like a long time. I raised my head to see what had happened or where he might be and straight ahead in my view about sixty to seventy feet away stood this guy with his pants and shorts down to his ankles and he was masturbating. I grabbed my pack from the back seat, got out and ran for the road hearing him scream from behind me, Don’t go, don’t go, let me finish and I’ll drive you into Calgary. We were not far off the road so I was there in short time and I started heading south.

Now here is a mystery. I was walking and carefully studying every vehicle that passed me to make sure I did not get him again. I don’t know where he went or what happened but I never saw him again. I made the comment above, I know what made them that way. I felt that way then and I feel that way now. The answer is that the guy had some deficiency and weakness in intelligence and became misdirected in gender choice after struggling, scraping, scratching, rubbing, buying, watching, hoping to see what was under all of those black dots and smudges of those sex magazines, the magazines that never failed to frustrate. The power people knew when they were purchased; the viewer didn’t want to view them and the guy putting the smudges in place knew they were not purchased for reasons of viewing. So this guy who picked me up got confused and disoriented and