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Friends & Others over 8 Decades

Sept. 10th 2024

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I am writing this short story following a conversation with a treasured old friend who, in his own words said, “I should write a book about my life but I am too old to start now and probably would not remember enough to make it a worthwhile project.” You’re the writer, he said. I explained that for me, once I got the first paragraph going, the memories flowed back like a babbling brook. I had the same conversation with another dear friend following the publication of my second book. Bill passed away just a few weeks ago. He did write his life story and his life was as full as George and mine. All world travelers we were.

 I am just a month or so into my 89th year and my friend George is in his 92nd year and still going as if he were 30 years younger. He is still golfing and playing Pickleball as tennis has recently become a little too strenuous. When we last spoke about a month ago, he and his wife had just returned from a few cities in Europe and a river cruise. This call to-day finds my friend with another story having just returned from Malibu visiting a friend who has, non-other than Hunter Biden as a Tenant in one of his properties there. They socialized over lunch a couple of times and were escorted around in a limo with no less than a couple of dozen security personal watching over them. Hunter keeps busy painting in his garage and George found him to be a very amiable and interesting fellow. He did not buy one of Hunter’s paintings as George claims to have his own painter, being me. I remember as if it were just a week or so ago, it was in 1972 on board the Italian liner “Raffaello” where we met. Our friendship has lasted over 50 years. George rose to a very high position as VP for a large Mall developer in Canada. He made a lot of connections that added interest to his very busy life. To prove, as if that would be necessary, I received a couple of pictures of George, his friend George and HUNTER BIDEN.

This is as good a time to draw attention again to my friend Bill. Florida has always held a special spot in my life as so many friends were made there over a period of 40 years. Bill, like myself had a limited formal education and yet he could hold his own in any situation with his depth of experiences in his vocation and travels around the world. When I had a 40-room mansion on a 13 Acre estate that was in dire need of some TLC, I immediately called my friend who lived in the summer months in Oshawa, which was reasonably close to my new project. Bill became a permanent resident for over two months and within that time he re-built five chimneys and 700 feet of our 6-foot-high brick wall as well as many other projects that put us in a position to open a 15-bedroom Historic Inn in record time. Working with this man who had the energy, many times greater than mine, gave me inspiration to forge ahead when many times  I would have given up for the day. Bill was a sailing buddy and we did enjoy a scotch or two with a Cuban cigar over tall and not so tall stories.

Florida seemed to be the breeding ground for characters and people you had to get to know just because of their charisma. Many I met there were giants in their lives and with stories that would hold you captive for hours. One of my closest friends was a larger than life giant of a man with shoulders broad and a physique in his younger days that all the young ladies would swoon over. Larry became my neighbour and my confidant and my friend. We loved to sail together and just get out in our dinghies for hours snooping into the untouched coves of mangroves and hiding places of the homeless of what we now call “OLD FLORIDA”. It is all gone now but in those days before cell phones and cable TV, you could catch shrimp and blue crabs and oysters at your front door if you were on the coastal shores of Florida. Fresh seafood was just the norm. When we were forced due to some financial problems, we took a couple of months and rented our house and lived on our 36-foot Gulfstar motor sailor.  Snook ranging up to 6 feet were common and caught off our pier. Fresh oysters every day if we wanted them, it was a great get-away from the challenges of business up north.

 Back to Larry, day dreaming is all we have at our age. My friend, growing up was the son of a very wealthy oil baron and lived in mansions and had the life of the real upper class. Larry, at the age of 12 had his own mini-Crosley motor car and would pull up to the Conrad Hilton Hotel in Chicago as if in a limo. Only one other kid had one the same, I believe it was a Mellon family child. Larry and his sister were kidnapped for a ransom but I can’t tell any more of that story. All the time I knew Larry and Jean, both held their heads high and were perfect friends but poor as one could imagine. Larry flew a Gypsy Moth to work in his youth and the plane is still used in movies. Larry’s father at one time owned two presidential yachts.  Larry passed while we were in Canada and the last thing I remember was Larry pleading with me to get him out of the government run senior home he and Jean were in. I had no chance of helping with that challenge. We saw Jean almost every week and took her out for lunch but she also passed when we were absent. I miss them both.

Roger Tessier was a tank commander in the US army during the second World War. He retired a Colonel and had many war medals all lost over the 16 years they lived on their 36 foot sailboat. Amongst them was a couple of Purple Heart medals.  Roger was never fond of sharing his stories, except during a 5 week voyage to the Keys when after dinner often on our boat and after a couple of scotch whiskeys and a good Cuban cigar, we would hear for the first time uttered by a very modest and great leader, his war time life. Roger also was a pilot and among his many airplanes was a Stearman. He won an airplane at a theatre lottery and that introduced him to flying. Roger escaped a firing squad twice and escaped the Germans to return to his command over 600 KM from where he was held. I was to write his life story in the following fall when we returned to our second home but sadly Roger died in his sleep at the age of 87. His death was a double blow to me as the same morning my friend and confidant Howard died in Canada also of a failing heart. We struggle on, knowing that we all have the same fate and at least my two lovely friends died with no pain or suffering. Roger was buried at Arlington cemetery with honours given for his service. Bill read my eulogy that I wrote, at the grave site. We were all good buddies.

We don’t necessarily pick our friends, sometimes they are presented to us and you can choose if you want to have a friendship with this person. When I got to partner up with Howard, I was a little curious. He was the brother of one of my neighbours at Tropic Isles.  Howard lived in a nearby mobile Home Park and as we were paired up for a few hours, it is always good to know a little bit about your new partner.  We hit it off right from the beginning. I found out some time later that Howard chose his friends very carefully and if he did not like you, he would have nothing to do with you at all. We became good friends and would talk on the phone for some time at least once a week and discuss our weekly business accomplishment. I think we had a common bond that is hard to explain except to say we were both under educated in the formal manner and successful in our field which was quite different. Howard always bragged that he was a graduate of the school of hard knocks, we both had that same certificate. Howard owned a large wrecking yard and dealt in used vehicles and I owned a number of small businesses in manufacturing, retail, a sales agency and importing, and later in the hospitality business. We were both entrepreneurs. I was a few years younger than my new friend and so he had quite a head start financially. We were able to wash each other’s hands as I did a little detective work for him and he provided me with the vehicles I needed in some of my endeavors. A five-ton truck, a couple of buses and many cars and even a Lincoln limo. His death on the same day as my friend Roger was a kick in the gut that took a while for me to overcome. Howard had a damaged heart that only his brother was aware of. He knew that his death would be sudden and unexpected.

Among my circle of male friends was a great man. Marty was such a good friend and he was different again to all the others. Marty came from a well to do family.  His father was successful in manufacturing light fixtures and had his factory on King Street west. The Princess of Wales Theatre occupies part of the space and the famous Ed’s Warehouse Restaurant and Museum were in his building as well. We met at the Salesman’s Club on Dundonald street just off Yonge and a block north of Adelaide. We had a common connection in the fact we were in the hardware- housewares business and the Toronto Hardware show was where many relationships were born. Marty was a good friend of Ken W. and both served in the 2nd. World War in our venerable Royal Canadian Navy. Both, also were stationed in St. John’s Newfoundland. Ken was on Fairmile’s, these were small plywood 100ft. twin screw submarine chasers. Many were built in the Muskoka’s of Ontario. Marty served on larger ships called, Frigates. Marty was a radio operator and had three ships sunk under him and obviously survived. They were Corvettes and Frigits. These two friends rarely spoke of their days of WW2.  However, Ken always loved to tell the story of returning from the North Atlantic in his little boat and the Newfy girls would be waiting to greet the boys back and saying “ yous can has me bodies but don’t tears me pants:” A side line observation, the Canadian Navy was the third largest Navy in 1945 with hundreds of ships.

 Marty had 5 wives as he was such a gentleman, everyone loved him. He was a great help to me with his interest in my project of the restoring of a 40 ft 1923 Ditchburn cruiser once owned by R.Y. Eaton. He arranged the July 22nd. fishing trip that so many friends looked forward to every year. We once travelled together on one of my many business trips to Sudbury and Sault Ste. Marie. Marty has been gone for many years but he lingers on in my heart especially on my birthday as Eleanor his last wife and Joan and I get together every year for our combined special day. We are both July 1936 babies. Many friends over the years were older than I and were War survivors. For a short time, I employed George W a bomber pilot in Europe and a fighter pilot in Korea with our air force. George was the 1st heart bi-pass patient in Toronto and had to retire shortly after his employment with me.

I would be remiss if I left out my dear friend Tom Culbreth. Tom and Carolyn were also part of our Florida connection. Tom was a boater but not a Sailer. We however spent many happy hours golfing in his group. A colonel in the US army as was my neighbour Bill Fenton and Pete Balskus and Joe Brill and Roger all from our community. I have known at least 6 men with this rank. Tom was a gruff man but most was his protection against showing his beautiful side that I got to know but still his words sometimes did sting a bit.  Tom passed suddenly in Canada and I was honoured to be asked to offer up a prayer at his and Carolyne’s Celebration of Life reception. Tom was so very proud of his family. They took Joan and I for a helicopter flight over Niagara Falls which was very exciting.

As I try to keep my stories to a maximum of 6 pages, I fear that I will have to stop my reminiscing the good old days. There are so many more I would like to highlight but will have to mention their names only at this time.  Bob Gosschalk – Hank Prins – both Dutchmen and boating pals.  Rick Dipaulo and Mike Facia very good clock customers. – Dick Pell friend and debate opponent. Bernie Carpenter – Pat Mulligan fellow agents and good friends. -Bob Manning - Mike Filey -  Rich. VanWicklen – Bryan McDonald Dick Marr – Vern Little – Ron Lewis – Asker Skrubbeltrang – Richard Hayden – Fred Weir -  Don Egan -Jim Harmsworth -Cam Batt – Bill Lukko – Bill Creber – Richard Hayden and all that have slipped my mind. My carvers all were Peter Turrell - Peter Mogensen - Bob Defries - Peter Nicapetre - George Best and Dorsey James. All with great stories and artists in many fields.

Very few of the people that are attached to these names are still living.

 I don’t want to seem ungrateful but it is getting lonely. As long as your health seems to be treating you well, old age is tolerable, having your lifetime partner is a tremendous bonus.  Thank you, God, for all your blessings in giving me such a tremendous life of male friends and amazing experiences.

Paul D. Scott                   rantingsandraves.com

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