The Haunted (Place)

The winds were up sending their chorus through the back hedges and surrounding trees on the back park where the Terrace Pool had once been. The florescent orange yellow Day Lillies nodded two and fro in agreement upon a wind change in Chateauguay. 

Out front of the modest Bay bungalow, sideways to the road, the pulse thumping blaster in a car passed on down Ashmore from Saint Francis to the Chateauguay River and Salaberry Street. Ashmore,-where once names like Black, Brown or Michielsson had been, now a throughway to the river.  If one stopped deadstill, one could feel the history of the place, alive and between the time shadows. Upon the breeze one might capture the echoes of girl's squeals -laughter, young men grunting touch football, or one might sense activities to be had if heading toward the canoe club, the dam or to the tennis courts in the Heights. 

If one closed the eyes, the ghosts would appear, images and the songs- you know the ones. And above all, the secret yearning of youth to fly, far far away from this nowhere place, of slow pace endless hot summer. One would feel the yearning for more than the Alamo, the rail bridge, the high-school. One could feel the want to be free from under parental guardianship, gone already to one's life and adventure.

This place is a space of 'the haunted' with names 'neath the memory's surface- Mumford, Oliver, Heatherington, Peters, Bossart, Hart, Behrens, Davis, Saunders, Jackson, Poirier, McManus, Houston, Kavenagh, Glen, Hillock, and Reid. So many names, so many children passing on to the generations. Yet Chateauguay remaines in the stillness of time. The High School - would always be 'Chateauguay High', despite the re-naming, to HS Billings. 

The sun painted varying hues of green upon the overgrown vines smothering the hedge between the Meanies and McConnells. A huge recycling truck could be heard roaring it's way along Newton from Maple, past Treavor Crawford's to Ashmore. The rumble of Jurgen Kalashnik's Triumph coughed to sudden life across the street, as Joanne (O'Hanley)gazed on; this evoking more memories - Bob St.Onge, Lilly, the Sundowners, 'The Beach', West-End Bowlarama and past heroic legends and tragedy.  

Ashmore and Parc-Ricard had been ideal for bringing up children. But in his heart he knew that a 'time' here was once again slowly setting.

Like all the rest from High School he too  had struggled in the hot summer quagmire of lethergic Chateauguay, - perhaps hanging out at the shopping center, the pines, the orchard, the Raja  Mood, Seigneury Park, desperately seeking girlfriends, for a whiff of summer wind in their hair and maybe venturing with her down the path in the woods to the old farm house where the water still ran through an upright pipe where the pump had once been. 

A patchwork of old memories surged. 
The night times, ah yes- the night times... 'doing things we used to do- thinking of you, I sit and watch as tears go by'... The Beatles, the Stones, CFOX radio, Dean Hagoppian, 'The girls walk by dressed up for each other, And the boys do the boogie-woogie on the corner of the  street, And the people passin by just stare in wonder and the inside juke-box roars out like thunder. And everything looks so complete... The Wild Night is Calling! 
(Van Morrison)

Twitter Posting of latest on Reunion & Friends 2013 You can now follow latest on Reunion Activity by following my Twitter Feeds at @lesmcconnell on Twitter. Hey... it was only a matter of "time" ...literally and of course time passing. Follow Me on discussion trends. Short notes to the point and latest news. FAST. Avoid Facebook confused messages. (no one's fault... Communication circles have always begun with one message, but as the the message is passed around the circle of friends, and circulated by others, the essence sometimes is changed and becomes something else and loses the impact of what the message started out as.) The Twitter short note system will ensure you get the accurate latest. Become a follower of the reunion by following me at on Twitter. @lesmcconnell.

Any of these look familiar?

So, what is Reunion to us now?

Gone are the times I would have tried to impress with success, cars, or house.

I am just happy if I can lose a roll from my hips and still fit into my favorite jeans.

But what has that got to do with re-uniting with others from the shadows of my past?
I suppose EGO.

Do I want to be seen as I am now when I envisage the girls and guys from grade 10 and 11 as they or we were?

How silly.
I see the students emerging from HSB every day as I drive past.
They are just kids.
But then I deal with people in the work force who are 28 ...my kids are that age!

And so were we ...kids at 16, 17 , 18 and even 19. I know it didn't feel like it, but we were... even when experimenting with some pretty serious things.

We are not kids any more - and have not been for years. But then, in my mind I don't seem to feel any change from back then. But when I look in the mirror...hmmm...is that really me?

Reunion... I would love to just get together just to see who we have become.
Last time I had a little time to just look around at people - gaze at them -see them smile, laugh and even cry.
To hear them - old best friends stand up and tell stories of the past - there was a magic in this I never expected.

I think, now that I am 58 and so many have already gone to the "other side" - (and I don't mean Toronto), it is all about (perhaps) one last blast and congratulating those who still know how to smile and live... perhaps people like Jack Kennedy below. Talk about a sense of humor. He is one person I would love to see again, or Kevin Carlin, Ricky Rice, Steve and David Poirier. These people made me laugh. And through the laughter I realized that moments go by as if through a sifter. The pearls that stay in memory with a luster rather than a tarnish are those given freely through smiling and community. Some people carried more than their weight- maybe- without even realizing it. But then again, maybe they did.