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Show M "All Dunn" by Roy Dunn "Well, how was the fair up at Montreal?" i I am. still asked this question ques-tion quite often and have come to the conclusion that there's a lot of people who didn't go.' Maybe they were smart and I suspect they were, but still they ask, "What was it really like?" raised his arm and snapping his fingers, he called out, "Pierre!" Pierre, a short, fat character, charac-ter, with pink baby skin and a black toothbrush moustache, came right over and these two, rattled off a conversation which I couldn't understand, then the fat one motioned to us and headed for a nearby car. I looked at the other fellow. "Pierre with his car will escort you and the Madame to a park for your autocar." He pointed to the retreating figure. "You will follow after him." He bowed again and I was so touched I could have cried, but there was not time, for I had to hurry to catch Pierre. After what seemed to be several sev-eral miles of twisting and turning, turn-ing, "U" turns and backtrack-' ing through wide and narrow streets, Pierre pulled up and turned us over to another Frenchman who with more bowing and arm waving, showed show-ed us a vacant lot, overgrown with weeds, provided with a long extension cord strung from a nearby house for power supply. He told us of a nice toilet and bath on the top floor of a second rate hotel, a block down the street. He had made arrangements for us to use that bath room. All this for five dollars per day, payable ini advance. As I drove away, I told him we would think about it. I have thought about it several times since. Later we pulled over to the curb to think things out and try and deecide what to do. A man who was on his lawn, came over and asked if he could help us. He must have guessed we were lost. We thanked him and with tongue in cheek, we fell in behind his car. He delivered us to a trail- It's ancient history now for the fair closed on Oct. 27th, 1967, but it will live in the memories of hundreds of thousands thous-ands of people for a long, long time. 'Well, we left here heading over through Wyoming, then up through the Dakota's and into Canada where we stayed all night at Winnipeg, on May 31, The next morning we pointed the nose of the Ford due east and for 1800 miles and three days, we exchanged positions on the seat and gears in the eFord many times. We were tired when we left Winnipeg that morning for we had gone downtown the night before and walked around and gawked at the city. It looked just like any other big city I have ever been in you know streets, curbs, sidewalks, shops, super-markets, traffic lights, long hair with bangs and short mini-skirts with legs. I tell you folks, I haven't j been so tired since I was a kid and went snipe hunting with my Uncle Clem, down in Smackover, Arkansas. We got lost down in the river bottoms and walked all night trying to find our way home. Finally Uncle Clem had sense enough to turn old Lead loose, (old Lead was our hound dog) and he took us straight home. Aunt Minnie was right glad to see us and fixed up a pot of hog jowls and turnip greens. I ate so much it made me sick . and I didn't sleep very good when I went to bed. Did you ever eat a mess of hog jowls and go right to bed? Looks like I kinda got off the track for a little bit there, so let's get on across Canada to the EXPO '67, for that's where we've started. The farther east we went, the more foreign things seemed, seem-ed, for the signs along the road and the dialogue spoken, gradually grad-ually merged into French. Audrey Aud-rey commented that the blackbirds black-birds in the marshes along the road, looked just like those in Utah. "Well, maybe they sing in French", I cracked. She looked straight ahead. It was late in the. evening on the day when we finally whizzed into Montreal, at 70 miles an hour, being swept along with the traffic, lost and confused. Picking an exit (Sortie, (Sor-tie, in French) at Random, we speeded off the Royal Turnpike and braked to a halt at an information in-formation booth near the curb. Three or four men were standing about this small booth and one came over immediately and welcomed us to Montreal and Expo '67 and with much bowing and arm waving, he wanted to know if he could help us. His French sure did ! louse up his English, but we managed to converse, after a fashion. Upon telling him we were looking for a trailer court, he er court where we were to stay for the seven days we were in Montreal. We were to know this man, his wife and family, better. Just the other day we received another most interesting letter from them. They are, Monsieur and Madame J. Chenier (Sha-nay) (Sha-nay) of 5720 Marie Victorian Blvd., Brossard, Quebec Province. Prov-ince. It was most interesting to relax on their patio one day and listen as their six and eight-year-olds spoke to their parents in French, then turn to us and speak in flawless English. They were gracious hosts. Monsieur Chenier is an executive exec-utive of a large candy company in Montreal and a solid citizen. This man's kindness, we were to find out later, is typical of the Canadians. There are rascals ras-cals everywhere but they have a sick mind and don't count. If only they all could have spoken English! SEE YA ALL, NEXT WEEK! |