by Jerry Donaldson
493 words
On the Super Constellation from Tokyo I was seated in non-smoking. As soon as I hit the tarmac at O’Hare I lit up a cigarette. Inside the terminal I lit another from the butt of the first.
The immigration officer told me to put it out.Continue reading “DEADLINE”
by Jerry Donaldson
(about 775 words)
My name is Jimmy MacDougall and I’ve lived here on the cay all my life. I make my living doing this and that around the wharves over in Jamestown. Mend nets, mend sails, do a little boat building, a little fishing. And I do salvage.Continue reading “SOUL SALVAGE”
by Jerry Donaldson
“Terminal A” was originally a one-shot story based on my time at the Post Office. But friends asked for more, so I will continue to add chapters from time to time
Chapter 1
At the age of 16 I got my first real job. I became a part-time mail handler at the Post Office Department, which in 1969 was not yet called Canada Post. I worked at Terminal A, a huge place attached to Union Station in downtown Toronto. My shift was 5 to 11 p.m., five days a week. My schooling suffered, but I’d lost interest in high school anyway. My mother agreed I’d might as well pick up some job skills so as not to end up as a hobo. I’d mowed lawns for the neighbours and clerked in a Mac’s Milk store, but this was the big time. A union job. Two dollars and five cents an hour.
By Jerry Donaldson
500 words
In the summer of 1981 he lived in a tiny loft at the boatworks and life was perfect. High up in the big boat shed, right out over the water, he had one room with a bathroom. On warm June nights he could hear the sea lions barking from the rocks near the lighthouse, out at the mouth of the harbor.Continue reading “IN THE BOAT SHED”
by Jerry Donaldson
Chapter 2
In the summer of 1970 Garth and I quit the post office to drive to California. I’d met Garth in the summer of 1969, while idling with a few of the other part-time mail handlers on the stone wall enclosing a small courtyard at the grand entrance to Terminal A. We’d sit around and smoke cigarettes until we punched in at 6 pm. Garth and I became best friends. Continue reading “TERMINAL A chapter 2”
by Jerry Donaldson
Here on the beach, dogs have become an issue. Again. Off-leash dogs can bring happiness to their owners and the others around them. Poorly monitored off-leash dogs just annoy people. Some dog owners fail to see this and don’t take the simple steps required to avoid trouble: pick up poo, don’t let the dog run wild, leash up near wildlife.
I grew in the sixties in a good part of Washington D.C., and I remember everyone’s dog just roamed the neighbourhood. One of the neighbours had a litter of puppies yearly, because many of the dogs weren’t neutered. But that’s the way it was in 1964.Continue reading “Dogs on Cadboro Bay Beach”
On The Beach