Low Down Articles
The Way We Were
Article 3 of 95
The column titled "The Way We Were" first appeared in "The Low Down to Hull and Back News".
on August 3, 2005. The Low Down's editor introduced this feature as an opportunity for long-time locals to tell their tales about what gives these Hills their particular colour. The Low Down also invited readers to write in their own anecdotes, memories or flashbacks that give a picture of what Gatineau Hills life was all about back in the day. We hope all readers, new and old, enjoy.
Anyone who knows of an interesting Gatineau Valley subject for a future "The Way We Were" column is encouraged to contact Louise Schwartz at info@gvhs.ca or to submit a proposed article of 500 words (with a historic photo) directly to the Low Down News at general@lowdownonline.com.
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Rites (and wrongs) of passage, Cascades, circa 1950
by Preston Wilson
The article about Judy Bradley Grant (The Low Down, July 13) fired up my boiler with long forgotten memories of the coming of age rituals that we endured in the early 1950's in these beautiful Gatineau Hills.
All the local girls and boys gathered at the ballfield at the Cascades Club every evening in the summertime and played softball until dusk. Then six or eight of we older ones played a variety of "Hide and Seek' called Freeze (the younger ones found it "borrring"). Everyone gathered around an old barrel that was "Home". The kid who was "It", was blindfolded and called out 0ne...two...three...Freeze". We ran a few steps but as soon as he said "Freeze", we were not allowed to move. Not a muscle. The person who was "it" wandered blindly around with their arms outstretched trying to find someone, then identify them by touch. Cheating happened. The most common being when the "it" person would peek, locate a girl he liked, spend about five minutes feeling her then declaring: "It's Keith".
His penalty was having to be "it" again. All the gang enjoyed Freeze. It was the precursor to the popular modern non-competitive, win - win type of game. To my knowledge, no one in this group, male or female, ever failed an anatomy test later in life at Medical School on anywhere else.
Touching Girls
Naturally this led to dancing. Eddy Cross taught us at the Cascades Club. Square and round dancing. It was the first time most of us had ever touched a girl except by accident or from curiosity; or while playing Freeze. The younger ones were still "borred" We liked it.
As soon as we were old enough to hitchike or be trusted with the family sedan, going to the "Wakefield Dances" was of the highest priority; It cost $0.50 at the door to get in. Some of us took dates, but if we were low on cash we yould tell our current girl friend..." Look....I might be late tonight...it's best if I meet you inside". Judy Bradley Grant was the only girl that I paid the $0.50 admission for that went home with some another dude. My huge but fragile male ego was shattered. I've never voted for her since.
There was at least one good fight every Saturday night outside the dancehall, and a few preliminary warmups. Usually it was the "City Boys" against us "Country Boys". The Brylcreemed slickers from town with their daddy's money and their daddy's fancy car against a united front of French and English locals with our beat up jalopies and plaid shirts.
If there were no "Townies" around we fought among ourselves: French v.s. English... Wakefield v.s. Chelsea.....Low v. s. Alcove....Chelsea French v.s. Low Eng1ish....etc...etc.... The combinations were endless. Anything to relax those raging hormones. Sadly, the Clubhouse burned a few years later, prob- ably torched by the city guys. The smoke from that fire carried away a lot of precious memories. But the embers will never be extinguished.
Ah, yes...as Sigmund Freud said "if youth knew...if age could..."
Editor's Note:
We're looking for your stories about the way we were: anecdotes, tales, memories of what it means to be a true Gatineau Hiller. It could be 50 words or 500, golden or purple prose - we'll take it. Send your submissions to general@lowdownonline.com.