Gower Bursey, Part 1

Gower and a friend, early 1970s

I guess it was probably sometime in 1972, me and a buddy of mine, we left a little town called Clarenville, in Newfoundland.  I can still remember the day-- it was probably late summer-- when my dad brought us up to the highway.  He was getting up in years at that time, his health wasn't all that good.  We sort of had that little touchy scene goodbye.  He wasn't a touchy-feely kinda guy, so we actually shook hands and I sort of remember him saying "well son, you may not see me alive anymore,” so he says "take care of your self" and I remember he had this saying "you make a bad bed, you'll have to lie in it"…I guess it’s basically self-explanatory…I guess it meant if you get in trouble, get in shit your going to have to get out of it the best way you can. So anyway, he drove away, and my buddy and I stuck out our thumbs and hoped for the best, headed Westbound on the Trans Canada Highway, headed for the big smoke, T.O.

Port-Aux-Basque, Newfoundland

Well, you know, several rides along the way, we stopped in a town about 150 miles west called Bishops Falls, um, nothing really significant, (it’s) just that I lived there in the mid 60's I guess and I know some people there, but we carried on.  One little funny story…basically, my friend there, Don, he had a watch, (and) he was washing up prior to getting on the boat-- because Newfoundland is an island of course-- at Port-Aux-Basque.  Ohh…(a) rough old miserable place, it's always raining, lots of rock, nothing will grow there…it looks like Mars, really.  So anyway, over on the other side, this guy approached us and asked us if we want to buy a watch, so Don said "maybe, let me see the thing." So sure enough was Don's watch.  He said, "under that leather strap, the initials are scratched DV for Don Verge.”  So the guy gave Don the watch.  I think (Don) gave him a couple of dollars, just to help him out anyway.  It was probably Don's fault because he had left the watch in the washroom anyways, so the guy picked it up.  That was something that sort of stuck in my mind.

Uh, on the way up y’know…sleeping in ditches, sleeping in abandoned cars and uh, parks, picnic tables…trailer parks were a good spot because there was generally somewhere to sleep and a washroom, somewhere to grab a shower, you could wash up.  We were eight days on the road, actually.  We arrived in Toronto about nine o'clock at night at my brother’s place, (in the) east end of Toronto, (in) Scarborough.  He and his wife were just recently married, I don't think they had any kids.  I remember he gave us some food, it was a can of stew, and he opened it up-- a can of Cordon Bleu stew-- and I think we had some toast and a glass of juice or something.  But, um, yeah, at that point I can sort of see him and his wife sort of nudging elbows back and forth and always looking at each other back and forth so (I said) "what's going on?"   He said: "You know where you guys should go right now?"  I said  "'Oh? I don't know, where's that?"  He said: "The Salvation Army has a hostel downtown.”  He said: "I'll bring you down.”

That was quite memorable.  I never forgot that, because that was a quite a point in my life.  I guess that sort of molded me in a way.

Yonge Street, Toronto, 1972.  Photo courtesy of Spacing Magazine

So Don and I went down there and we were sort of hanging out on the street with the rest of the bums, some old people, some young people, a lot of people were traveling around back then, you know, a lot of runaways I guess…just people coming to Toronto, looking for work.  You know…hanging around and drinking, and dope and every other damn thing.

We probably stayed a few months, uh, (at) the Sally Ann and the downtown core area, probably several months.  Thinking back on it, my buddy Don ended up going to a town 150 miles west called London, Ontario.  He had an older brother out there so I think he went to London and then I sort of hung around a little bit by myself.

I met up with a guy-- I think he was from Quebec-- and one day we decided to go out west.  Sort of the big spot out there was Vancouver…everything was happening out in Vancouver.  As a matter of fact, at that time, I had another brother living in Calgary, Alberta, uh, which is the province just before B.C, so I said well, here's an opportunity, I can stop and see my brother Lloyd.  We were of a similar age, he was 3 or 4 years older than me, so we left and headed out west.  I had all my belongings all in this army duffle bag, (a) green one, regulation army surplus.  Everything I owned-- everything.  So we hitched rides to Sudbury, I think we stayed there a few nights, probably the Sally Ann, I think it was, or some youth hostel.  Then we went west, carried on further west to a place called…ah I'm not sure.  But anyways, just to move the story along a little bit, we jumped the train and it brought us along to a place called-- uh, it's up around the lake head.  (Basically) we were on the train and one of the diesels-- it was a 3 diesel engine train-- I remember I threw my duffle bag at the engine, it got caught there so the other guy was on, I can't even remember this guys name actually.  We both got on the train, cheering, and then my duffle bag rolled off.  Keep in mind this is everything I own on the face of this earth is in that bag.  I said well, I got to make my mind up real quick-- stay on, or get off.  I chose to get off so, he went on, I never seen him after, don't know what the hell happened to him.

I got off at a town, it was called Hornpayne, Ontario, and you couldn't get there by car so I guess that was the second train we were on to get to this point.  I remember being in this little train station, snow on the ground, uh…this was probably in March, I would say, (of) 1972.  So anyway, at that time, I was by myself ‘cause the other guy carried on.  I was in the train station and this guy, this Aboriginal guy, came and said “you still here?”  I said “yeah.”  And he said “well, come to my place.”  He said, “we’re having a party tonight.  There’s nothing coming by here until about 4-o-clock in the morning.”  I remember him saying that basically he worked for the train company or something…there was two trains-- there was the Algoma Central, and there was the CNR train that went by there.  He said “if you get the right train, it will take you right in to Winnipeg, so you’ll be on your way then.”  So, I was drinking with these guys…this family, they had this party, there was lots of food, and a lot of firewater floatin’ around…  But anyway, I remember walking up to the engine…it was about four-o-clock in the morning, and I was half pissed but still had enough wherewithall, but I remember the air was so cold-- we were so far north, and I remember the sound of the frozen snow beneath my boots-- so I got on the train, I got on the diesel there…it was steamin’ up and getting ready to go, so I carefully tried to not have anyone see me, because it’s against the law to ride on the rails, y’know.  I opened the door and went up the stairs, and there was two guys in there.  They said “where the hell are you going?”  “Well, I’m hoping to make my way to see my brother out in Alberta.”  So, he said “well, you can’t ride on this train, but you can get a little warm up,” he said, “sit down there if you want.”  So between tired and half drunk, (at some point) I must have dozed off to sleep…so maybe the guys took pity on me or whatever, but they didn’t kick me off.  So I just carried on, on the train.

Once I got up to the main highway…don’t forget, there’s no roads up there where I was…the only way you can get there is by helicopter or by train.  So I went as far as a town called Armstrong, Ontario, and I remember some train inspector or something kicked me off the train.  I guess I probably asked around to see what train was going to Winnipeg, but I remember being in the bus stop in Winnipeg, Manitoba.  Now that place is cold in the wintertime…real, real cold.  But, anyway, just to move the story along…(with) a combination of riding the rails and hitchhiking, I made it to Alberta.  It was at night, and I remember distinctly it was my birthday, March the 6th.