I grew up for my first seven years in Morden, Manitoba, a small town about 120 kilometers south of Winnipeg near the U.S. border. One way my hometown was different from any other place was that it was very flat. When it rained too much, the ditches would fill up with water and when they did, sometimes the water would come into the basement of our house. And because it was flat, you could see a long way, especially when you reached the edge of the town. That was special, too. To reach the end of town, I needed to walk for about five minutes!
One ritual I remember well is the noon siren. I always knew when it was 12 o’clock when the siren sounded and all the town dogs started barking. At school, the principal would come out with a large silver bell to ring us back into class. We had two recesses, one in the morning and one in the afternoon. I remember they were 20 minutes long. But we had longer school days there in Manitoba, compared to Burnaby where I moved at age seven.
Another difference was that we burned our paper garbage in big metal barrels. As a little boy, I was very interested in that. The boy next door was named Bernie and since he was big enough to do the job, he burned the garbage. I told my mother that it was funny his name was Bernie!
One very special thing about my small town was that I felt very safe there. One day, when I was seven, I rode my bike to see my father at his work. His work was probably five kilometers from my house. After I saw him, I rode further around the experimental farm where he worked. It was very exciting to travel by bicycle all around my small home town.