In the Right Place at the Right Time.
Seven Miles Became Eight on this walk.
One of the benefits of heading out the door for a long walk - while miles are going by the human brain turns over items on a few forgotten shelves and gives them an airing. Walking time is thinking time.
On Thanksgiving Monday I headed north toward UWO and - while approaching the quiet campus - my brain recalled past research I began there a few winters ago (re my Dad's Navy memoirs) by reading 1943 issues of the Montreal Star newspaper, stored on microfiche at the university library.
I'm heading north toward University of Western Ontario
Brain: Gord, you should continue to dig into those newspapers.
Gord: Yes, it's an hours walk from my porch to Weldon Library. Two hours round trip. I like that.
Brain: Take a camera. Take digital photos of the news pages. Don't download files, they're corrupted w viruses.
Gord: Yes. Sounds like the way to go. If I find an article that confirms what Al Kirby (a Canadian Navy man, my Dad's mate from Woodstock) wrote in his memoirs I'd really have something.
Brain: Look for articles by Sholto Watts, a writer for the Montreal Star in '43.
Gord: I'll start next Sunday. Very good idea. And maybe Western News or The Gazette would like a weekly column. Faint Footsteps, WW2.
Brain: Start with the research, then pitch the idea!
Gord: Hey. I missed my normal turn-about marker.
Brain: Yes, we got distracted. Go another 5 minutes, then turn around. Count 8 miles when you get home.
Seven miles turned into eight miles and I came home with a golden idea.
And if I find a particular news article - about Canadians like my father, in charge of landing crafts during Operation Baytown (in Italy) - you'll be the first to know.
Photos GH
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