DOWN NOSTALGIA LANE

I have very fond memories of growing up in Elmvale, mostly associated with hockey. The memories I have put together centre around contributions made by dad (Lloyd Wood).  Dad worked on the boats for about 8-9 months of the year, so he was not around that much, until hockey season; and then he was all in.  I should give some indication of my age (born in 48) so some of you can relate to these stories.  Hopefully there are a few of you still around.  Facing reality it is about time to put thoughts on paper.  By the way my name is Nelson Wood (Woody).  If you want to comment on these thoughts, add, clarify or correct please do so.  My email address is wood_nelson@yahoo.com 

EARLY BIRD

One of my first memories of going to the arena was on Saturday mornings.  Dad would get me up early, I guess around 5 or 6, make some porridge and then off we would go.  We would arrive at the rink around 630.  In these years (mid fifties) the dressing rooms were at the north end in each corner.  We would walk under the stands over the cinders to the room, west side.  Dad would get the fire started in the wood stove.  Of course at this point the dressing room was still not as warm as outside the arena.  By the time I got my gear on you could feel the temperature on the rise.  The trickiest part of this was just getting out of the dressing room as the flooring was made of planks and there was just enough of a gap between them to wedge your skate blade in there. 

   ABOUT TIME

I don't know what was used as a clock at the north end originally or if there was one.  What I do remember is dad making one.  It had a plywood face that dad painted white.  I have no idea what the hands were made of or what the workings were in behind.  I can't remember how he got it up there.  I don't remember if there was a protective screen, although I can't believe dad would spend all that time on his creation and then not protect it. 

RUBBER MEETS THE CONCRETE

Do you remember those black long mats that adorned the hallways and dressing rooms?  Know where they came from?  That's right, Lloyd Wood.  As I mentioned earlier dad worked on the boats for years.  In the mid sixties his runs were exclusively from Cobourg (east of Oshawa) to Clarkson (west of Toronto).  I think dad said one year they made 140 trips, maybe 70 round trips, I don't know. They carried stone to the port at Clarkson.  It was unloaded and carried by a mile long conveyor belt over Hwy 2 to the St. Lawrence Cement plant.  I believe it is now called Ash Grove Cement Plant.  How much did the rubber cost?  Knowing dad probably nothing, just the effort to take it off their hands as the rubber would have to be in good condition to prevent stone coming down onto cars on the highway.  

   NET GAIN

At some point in time I guess the arena needed new nets, just the netting.  One of the guys dad worked with on the boats at that time was a Maritimer (think fishing).  Dad invited his friend, Joe Power; over for a couple of days.  Joe brought some of that cord and he and dad wove it together on our living room floor, then mounted it on the frame.  Unfortunately not many of my shots ever met those nets. 

 GETTING THERE

Back in the “good old days” you could get the entire team into two cars.  That's right no seatbelts.  It didn't matter because we were so wedged in there you couldn't move.  Having said that there was always some horsing around in the back seat.  Luckily there wasn't much traffic on the roads in those days.  Thanks dad for all the driving.

 RINK RATS

Did you ever use this for a job reference?  In the early sixties we would get our skates on, grab the shovels and scrape the ice.  After the first lap the barrel flooders would come out and in short order the ice was ready.  Yes we got paid, in French Fries!  We thought this was just great.  We could always stay out a bit later because we were “working”.  In today's vernacular it is called an essential service.

At some point in time there was talk of buying a Zamboni.  We were very concerned about this.  What would we do with all this spare time.  We weren't going down without a fight.  Collectively (no union) we approached the management (I don't know who that was) and said if we could do the job faster than the machine we should keep our jobs and they would save the expense of a big machine.  So we timed ourselves. It was impressive, I'm sure faster that any Zamboni.  It was to no avail.  I think the decision was already made.  I guess that's progress.  I think we should have used the Mexican model:  Why would you use a machine if six men can do the job, it's called full employment.