All Those Other Guys and Me; An Edmonton boy's encounters with the Depression by John Reid

For a boy, growing up in Edmonton at any time is probably a memorable experience, but during the 'dirty thirties' it was really a thrill! Or was it? Let me relate some thoughts that come to mind.


For those who lived in northeast Edmonton anywhere near the exhibition grounds at that time, one in all probability knew Jack. He was an officer with the Edmonton Police Department. If you went to the Arena to a hockey game, he was there. The Edmonton Grads, Ladies Basketball Team, all knew him. He was at every one of their games held in Edmonton. As boys we went to mainly hockey games. We didn't always have quite enough money to pay our way into the Arena, and most of the time we had none. Mr. Driscoll a man we did not seem to like, would always chase us kids away from the gate, but he would see that we always ended up where Jack was stationed. Jack would then usher us up to the place where he wanted us to sit and behave ourselves. There were many spirited hockey games seen in this manner. I can also remember seeing quite a number of Grads games, probably courtesy of Mr. Driscoll and Jack.


One day in summer a number of us were at a Grads game. Jack asked us if we would like a job for the day. He told us that the pay would not be great but we would be well rewarded. We were to be at the front of the Arena the next day at 900 A.M. and we were to bring our bathing suits and a towel. The next morning twelve boys and four girls showed up at the Arena. One could tell Jack was overwhelmed, but we were all put to work. Divided into four groups and given large jute sacks, our task was to fill the sacks with paper that had blown all around the Exhibition Grounds. We were to bring the filled sacks to a certain place. Our labors ended just after noon. Then came time for lunch, Jack mounted his horse and asked us to follow. He took us to a picnic spot just by the Borden Park swimming pool, where a lunch of hamburgers, hot dogs and pop awaited us.


After lunch and a little rest, a swim in the pool was our other treat! There were sixteen happy kids and one happy policeman.


To see Jack on his horse was another thrill. He wore a high pith helmet, with a police badge emblazoned on the front. His chin strap seemed to always be just at the point of his chin. He dressed in full police uniform and had a pair of very shiny black leggings above his black leather boots.


His horse was dark bay and stood well over seventeen hands and its trappings were in immaculate condition. The silver on the bridle and saddle sparkled in the summer sunshine. The horse wore a white braided martingale. Jack must have had more than one or two of these as it was always white as snow. He must have been very proud of this animal as it was never seen in need of a curry comb or brushing.


One afternoon I was on the street car approaching the Avenue gate when I noticed the horse tethered nearby. The horse was saddled and bridled so I thought if I hurried and got off the car I might see Jack. I was not disappointed for a few moments later I saw him mount his horse and ride around the pound yard. He came over to where I was and spoke to me. He said he had to go on a call. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to get off the street car as I had to walk the rest of the way home, not having another nickel to get on the next train.


Another thrill I had was in 1942 when I joined the R.C.N.V.R. (The Wavy Navy.) The one, two or three rings on a R.C.N.V.R. Officer's uniform were wavy, where as in the Regular Force R.C.N. the rings were straight and in the Merchant Marine R.C.N.R. they were cross?hatched. Jack's son and namesake joined the same day. The father came to watch as we were put through our initial training. I cannot recall ever speaking to Jack, Senior, after the end of hostilities, but I was proud to know him, his three sons and grandson.