Showing posts with label Canada. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Canada. Show all posts

Thursday, November 21, 2013

boxcar rolling

 boxcar rolling

boxcar rolling down the railroad track
goes clickity clack
sure is hauling a long heavy load
don't know what it is
but it does not smell good.

years ago, it would be hauling corn
in great big sacks
it might be bringing in a load of wood
we'd say thumbs up
because we knew we could.

[Photo at ejearchive.com]

     well, there's a boxcar rolling by
     oh, it's trouble to the sky
     now we know the load can kill us in a flash
     I hear a train, I want to run
     louder rumbles sound like a gun
     these are scary times down by the railroad tracks. 

years ago, it might be hauling steel
for metal racks
it might be bringing our food supply
the loss of which would
only make grown men cry.

today, it could be hauling liquid death
seeping out the cracks
today, the load is told about in quiet words
'cause our economy could
easy make grown men die.

     well, there's a boxcar rolling by
     oh, it's trouble to the sky
     now we know the load can kill us in a flash
     I hear a train, I want to run
     louder rumbles sound like a gun
     these are scary times down by the railroad tracks. 

gah

***

Please click here to read a note re Canadian Railroad Trilogy

Monday, November 5, 2012

Short Story: Gord’s Top Ten - "Canadian Railroad Trilogy"

Don’t mess with the navvies

Many years ago for Christmas my older son compiled some of my favourite songs onto a CD. "Canadian Railroad Trilogy" by Gord Lightfoot starts it off, and because the CD is in my workshop and this is birdhouse-building season, I listen to the song almost everyday. I never tire of it. After a ‘shed night’ (def.: when friends and I sip ‘Pepsis’ for an hour or two in my shop) I’ll listen to it, sometimes repeatedly, while I put chairs away and sweep peanuts off the floor. 

Here are some of my favourite lines:

We are the navvies who work upon the railway
Swinging our hammers in the bright blazing sun
Living on stew and drinking bad whiskey
Bending our backs til the long days are done.

We are the navvies who work upon the railway
Swinging our hammers in the bright blazing sun
Laying down track and building the bridges
Bending our backs til the railroad is done.
 

(Listen to the full 1967 version here)

In my mind it is a magnificent song from beginning to end. It takes me across Canada upon iron rails and a fine melody. And all along the way I see and hear and feel the work done by the navvies with their heavy, swingin’ hammers.

At wikipedia I read the following:

The "Canadian Railroad Trilogy" is a song by Gordon Lightfoot that describes the building of the Canadian Pacific Railway. This song was commissioned by the CBC for a special broadcast on January 1, 1967, to start Canada's Centennial year... In the first section, the song picks up speed like a locomotive building up a head of steam.

While Lightfoot's song echoes the optimism of the railroad age, it also chronicles the cost in sweat and blood of building "an iron road runnin' from the sea to the sea." The slow middle section of the song is especially poignant, vividly describing the efforts and sorrows of the nameless and forgotten navvies whose manual labour actually built the railway. (Wikipedia)

 [“Canadian Prairies fly by, April 2012”: Photo by GH]

[“Sunset on the Prairies”: Photo by GH]

And who are the navvies? Here is what I know.

In my own experience I’ve only come across the word once in the many books I’ve read over my lifetime, and I discovered it recently (thus the posts about it) in a book entitled ‘The Day We Went to War’.


I read the following:

Those in the civilian army of the Air Raid Precautions responsible for enforcing the blackout, especially air-raid wardens with their cry ‘Put that light out!’, soon became targets for the public’s pent-up fury and frustration (e.g., re black-outs... A Bradford navvy was of the opinion that ‘Three quid a week’s too much for just playing cards and such-like for them buggers... And if they say  they’ve homes to keep and they’ve themselves to feed, I’d make them live in barracks.’ (pg. 334 - 335)

Well, there you go. Don’t mess with the navvies, eh.

More information isn’t hard to find. 

For example: 

A "navvy" depicted in Ford Madox Brown’s painting ‘Work Navvy’ is a shorter form of navigator (UK) or navigational engineer (USA) and is particularly applied to describe the manual labourers working on major civil engineering projects. The term was coined in the late 18th century in Britain when numerous canals were being built, which were also sometimes known as "navigations", or "eternal navigations", intended to last forever. (wikipedia.org http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Navvy)

[“We are the navvies... swingin’ our hammers”: Canadian Encyclopedia]

As well, the Canadian Encyclopedia serves as another source of information about navvies: 

Almost every leading figure connected with the building of the CPR has been immortalized in a Canadian place-name... The top dogs had mountain peaks named for them or in the case of Cornelius Van Horne, a whole mountain range. But what about the men who actually built the railway? Where are their names recorded, except on tombstones along the way?

The railway navvies were a mixed lot. Charles Peyton who walked down one stretch of track looking for work saw a band of Italians at one spot and a team of Englishmen a few kilometers later. He met a scholar who could speak and write Greek, a surgeon from Montreal and a pastor from Chicago. Generally, though, Peyton found the men to be a rough lot with ill manners and disagreeable mouths. They were there for the $2.00 to $2.50 a day, which was good pay for the time. [The Canadian Encyclopedia]


And yesterday a friend dropped off - unbeknownst to him, in such a timely fashion - a copy of The Rocky Mountaineer Mile Post. I quickly learned that some navvies (from China, by way of the USA) worked for half price and worked in extremely dangerous conditions, as can be seen in the last line of the highlighted paragraph below.


The last line of Lightfoot’s song pays tribute to the navvies, and, as of yet, I don’t know of another song that does.

"Canadian Railroad Trilogy" is inGord’s Top Ten’ for many reasons, and now you know some of them.

[“Sunset on the Prairies”: Photo by GH]

*** 

Perhaps you know of another song that mentions the navvies. Please let me know.  

Please click here to read another short story
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Thursday, August 30, 2012

(2) Discovering the World in One Pair of Pants

PHOTOS FROM ALONG THE WAY

Round trip: London to Port Bruce

“I stopped several times for water and butt breaks.”

“I wasn’t kidding about the hills. Tough sledding.”

“Biking uphill would be easier with less weight in the trailer! And on a motorcycle!”

“Definitely time for lunch (in New Sarum).”

“It’s one hot day.”

“My first view of the lake is over two hours away.”

[Photos by G.Harrison]

Please join me here for CHAPTER THREE  and more PHOTOS FROM ALONG THE WAY.

***

Please click here to read TRIP ONE: CHAPTER TWO

Monday, November 14, 2011

Prose: Nature’s solace, alone time


7 a.m.
this morning one duck sails south
past the dock, so quietly

last night
a group of seven
a tight-knit band
plied the same waters
and earlier
eleven braved the channel
alive with motored crafts at the time
all shapes and sizes
but none as at home
as this lone duck

7:02 a.m.
it's time for quiet thoughts
time to listen to a line
or verse of nature's prose
writ upon a breeze


["It's time for quiet thoughts... writ upon a breeze": photos GH]

more fishermen will start
their engines soon and rattle by
then the daily din
of more human enterprise
will hold sway and chase
the wary ducks away

but now, with one duck
disappearing from view
it's time for nature's breath
to tell another tale.

gah

***

Please click here for a closer look at a few trees.

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Thursday, June 18, 2009

Prose: backpack canoe: conclusion - ‘North Tea reflections’

Backgrounder: “Three days and nights on North Tea gave birth to countless memories. When our group gets together to talk about past trips the stories spill out of us in handfuls, like beans from a burlap sack.” gaharrison

North Tea reflections

coffee in the morning
has a heightened taste
brought to boil
over an open flame.

after a sound sleep
on a pine needle mattress
cold clean water cuts
short the morning dip.

tarp water is turned aside
by a hastily dug
shallow trench
around my tent.

adult loons
patient and protective
are wise diving instructors
for their eager young.

wooden box crappers
havens for hardy mosquitoes
open to the elements
and passing paddlers.


crows as big as barns
chatter loudly for hours
to pass the time
in the treetops.

chicken noodle soup
four for a dollar
a satisfying noon meal
on a cool rock bench.

fajitas, steaks, salads,
store-bought lasagna
catch jealous eyes
and take the culinary prize.

on warm evenings
we scout for moose we tip canoes
and lanterns left in trees
guide stragglers home.



Catch more posts at It Strikes Me Funny by G. Harrison

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Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Prose: backpack canoe, more than a trilogy part 3 - ‘moose at Manitou’

Backgrounder: “While camping near North Tea Lake in Algonquin Park several years ago I saw my first moose. Don tried to shoot it (with his camera) but lost his balance and camera equipment during the process. I wrote about the event and still describe moose as very agile for their size.” gaharrison

moose at Manitou


first lone moose
spotted near a cedar shore
head visible above water
leisurely tearing leaves
from a fallen branch.
the canoes drifted too close
and the moose soon bolted
on long black legs
into safe scrub brush.

second sighting, on Manitou Lake
huge muscular unassuming beasts
perhaps near-sighted
but so alert -
twitching ears caught every sound.
two stood knee deep
in long marsh grass
five canoes, silent, still,
approach cautiously
‘til the spell is broken
we exchange stares
with odd silent creatures.
did they hear us breathe?
only a few agile strides needed -
the two disappeared.

gah

More posts about daily life at It Strikes Me Funny

***

My last moose encounter occured in 2007 while motorcycling on the Trans-Canada highway between Wawa and White River. A lone moose seemed to be the only inhabitant of that lonely stretch of highway.

Have you enjoyed a moose sighting lately? Where?

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Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Prose: backpack canoe, more than a trilogy part 2 - ‘first day out’

Backgrounder: “Somewhere near the middle of North Tea Lake, while sitting in canoes rented from “No Way Out Adventures”, our group of canoes stopped so that weary occupants, myself among them, could take a welcome break. Black licorice sticks never tasted sweeter. My shoulders had never been so sore or hot to the touch. It all seemed worth it an hour later when on dry land.” gaharrison

first day out

breakfast, fresh at “no way out”
equal parts stiff cool breeze
and soft-boiled eggs
the mosquitoes thankfully took a break.
large loads of freight
every item precious
bring anxious smiles as canoes,
sitting much lower in the water now,
jockey heavily at the gate.
the first energetic push,
past lily pads
and long snake grass,
stretches every muscle
through endless twists and turns
to the first portage.


lunches and black licorice
quickly unpacked, are eaten
on a small outcrop of rock
backs are hunched ‘gainst
a cold wet wind.
with white caps to fight
all heads are down
hot spots tear at tired shoulders
from the hard grip on paddles.
but slowly we draw closer
to our island home
wild point of rock and pine.

... to be continued

gah

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