The Shovel

 

At 2217 Hampton Avenue, around 1953

Not long ago I wrote about my grandfather, who was a fireman, and about a steel fire department shovel of his that I was given after he died. The photo above was taken outside of my grandfather's Hampton Avenue home, I am on the left, my brother is on the right. Perhaps I was three years old and not necessarily the lovely child I thought I was; around this time I dropped lighted matches in my grandfather's mail box, just behind where I am standing on the front steps to his home. My grandfather was a fireman and what do I do? I set on fire the curtains just above his mail box. Meanwhile, upstairs from my grandfather's flat was the flat of my Uncle John and Auntie Muriel; one day we were visiting them and seeing a large and difficult jig saw puzzle that my aunt had just completed I wondered how strongly it was held together, pulling two sides of the puzzle, the jig saw puzzle fell apart; this is minor compared to the fire incident, but it didn't go over very well. No wonder the young are parents, only the young have patience needed to deal with children. 

Fire Station, Somerled Avenue

This is the fire station where my paternal grandfather, John R. Parker, worked up to his retirement in 1946. In the mid-1960s, when I was visiting for the day, there was smoke in his Hampton Avenue home and fire engines were soon at the door. Right away the firemen remembered him, even after so many years.

Hampton Avenue

Here is my mother's father, my grandfather, John Richards Parker, who came to Canada from Blackburn, England, and worked until his retirement around 1946 as a fire man for the City of Montreal. Above: my grandfather's house at 2217 Hampton (below Sherbrooke Street West). A few years ago the flats next to this, identical to my grandfather's, were for sale and I walked around in them. They had been made into a single home with the upper unit for bedrooms and the lower for a kitchen and living room, dining room. I was most struck by how small they were, perhaps 900 square feet each. I have no memories at all of my maternal grandmother, she had bad health and didn't like to have her photograph taken; I believe she died around 1957. This photo (above) is from the mid-1960s.

My grandfather in his back yard.

My grandfather owned the two units; the lady who rented upstairs (in above photo) and her daughter were my grandfather's last tenants.

My brother and I, on the front stairs outside the Hampton Avenue flats. Around 1954 - 1955. I remember putting lit matches in my Uncle John's mailbox (he lived upstairs from my grandfather) and setting the curtains on fire, and I remember my Aunt Muriel completing a jig saw puzzle which either my brother or I pulled apart, perhaps testing how strong the pieces really were... I've always loved a fire, perhaps appropriate since my grandfather was a fireman.