But one day, in late spring, after my 13th birthday, I was devasted when she suddenly announced that she was leaving us. She had arranged to place me with a childless farm couple nearby and my other 2 brothers with another childless farm couple next door to the farm where I ended up. She took our youngest brother, age 5, with her. She returned 2 years later to take us back, but my brothers and I refused to go with her. The last time I saw her was shorty before she died in 1989, at age 89. I did not attend her funeral. Although in hindsight she did us a big favour, I spent a lifetime trying to forgive her. Try as I might, I am not sure that I ever succeeded.
At my foster home I hit pay dirt. After my initial trauma of being catapulted out of the only home I had ever known, I spent my high school years with a couple who took pride in everything I did. My foster father, who was one of the wittiest men I have ever known, became my role model. We clicked from day one, until he died at 84. His wife, the local school teacher, who had taught me throughout elementary school, and knew me well as a student, was more reserved, and not nearly as much fun as her husband. She treated me well, but there was never a close bonding. Someone once said that she never really cared about anybody except her husband, and I agree. But my 5 years with them were among the happiest of my life.
In high school I found my feet and took to it like a duck to water. The principal, a sober, tough-minded bachelor, ran a tight ship. A school bus transported kids from a wide area to the village school, about 15 miles from where I lived. It was known for its high academic standards, good discipline, and an excellent army cadet corps. For some reason, the principal seemed to look out for me, and pushed me to excel both academically and with the cadet corps. I did well academically, and was promoted through the cadet ranks to the head cadet in my final year.
Teachers’ College in Ottawa was a bit of a blur because it was over in a year. The college principal, made a point of getting to know the students. For some reason, he also looked out for me, and was responsible for me getting my fist job as a teacher without me ever applying for the position. One day, close to graduation, and knowing my connection with high school cadets, he instructed me to attend an interview with a delegation from Camp Petawawa, looking for teachers to teach the children of army personnel. I got the job.
