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A Lifetime of Memories Polished By The Passing of Time (Copy 3)

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S: The Ron Lane Story


FC: The Ron Lane Story | A Lifetime of Memories Polished by the Passing of Time

1: Stories for My Children I have been a story teller for a long time and my kids have often encouraged me to put it down on paper. They are very pleased to see me get a start on this story for better or for worse. I have a lot to tell. I have just a word of caution though. I am seventy eight years old and I have Parkinson’s. These factors should allow me to embellish, to steal someone else’s events or to distort. ‘Nuff’ said! | 1

2: Forward Or, Preamble to the Ramble... Well, Dad, you sweet old so and so...the stories you hear from your children are often not quite as Norman Rockwell-esque as the reality you seem to inhabit. We love your take on the world and all you tried in your way to make it a better place for your children and future generations. Those values and many others you have instilled deeply within the lot of us. I told you the other day of my first impression of Liverpool when we first moved here from Whitehorse (of course you said, “ME!” ) I laughed, because that was so like you. Well, I said, certainly you became a very important and integral part of life in Liverpool, without a doubt. But my very first impression was of the trees; giants... leafy behemoths towering overhead; canopies of green which blocked out the sky. These were not familiar things at all to a child coming from the Yukon. I think those, in actuality, may well have been your impressions. Your impressions became mine, for do we not view the world at first through our parents. From what I remember, it was a world full of wonder. If only I could always have seen the world through those eyes. I know that you did. The values held by any one society in any particular era change and warp often beyond recognition. Even our own journey through life is wrought with changes which in turn mold us and shape us in ways which we probably could not have previously conceived. That which seems so significant one day is but a fading memory as we traverse paths whose existence was unthinkable or unimaginable before that last turn or misstep. But, before I get too deep, let me reverse back up the proverbial rabbit hole to the life and lives before this particular moment in time. My Dad's truly is 'A Wonderful Life'. Joan Lane | 2

3: Ramblings With Ron or "A Lifetime of Memories Polished By The Passage of Time" | 3

4: Looking Back Start with a cute blond headed boy. Family and friends often commented tauntingly. Not wanting to be noticed, I took the scissors and cut it off. I swept the hair under my bed. When Mom saw me she was shocked. “What have you done?” It was off to the barber and I was no longer blonde. Our home was located on Main Street. I believe, the house was built by Captain Gardner and the lot ran back through the pasture all the way to Waterloo Street. When Dad sold the Waterloo lot on the back end to (Langavin) he sold it for $200. There was a large mowed lawn area that was flooded and frozen in winter for skating. There were chicken houses with room for 300 chickens. There was a brooder section. The new chicks were kept in a heated section. The pasture was a very rugged section consisting of rocks and bushes and stinging nettle. A perfect environment for kids games like hide and seek. Good imaginations were the only boundaries of things to do. A group of large rocks, probably deposited by melting glaciers, were our “Indian Cave Rocks” where we played Cowboys and Indians. Mom’s sister, my Aunt Betty, Uncle Bud and cousins Elliot and Estelle were my closest relatives. They lived at the Riverside Inn | 4

5: "Children are a wonderful gift. They have an extraordinary capacity to see into the heart of things and to expose sham and humbug for what they are." DESMOND TUTU | "A group of large rocks, probably deposited by melting glaciers, were our “Indian Cave Rocks” where we played Cowboys and Indians. " | 5

6: which was close and we did a lot of things together. The Inn was located where Frenchy’s is located. Similar to my situation now, the grand father resided at the Inn. He was very quiet. My memories were of his Ford Model A. Elliot used it for awhile and its demise was when the old car got stuck in the sand at Port Joli and the tide came in. Also at the Cook side of the Inn that I remember, was Nora. I remember her as the one who spent many hours ironing sheets on a pressing machine. It had been around for several decades and it might still be in our attic. Then there was the barn where the cow was kept. The manure was scraped from the barn floor through an opening in the floor and removed from the back by the rail road tracks to be used on the gardens. In those days it was very important that we go to church, and we had to be properly dressed to do so. One Sunday after Mass we all went to the inn and, as kids do we were running and hiding. I ran into the barn and fell through the manure trap door. It is hard to visualize the Riverside Inn now (2012) as it was so many decades ago. There was the Inn and the barn. There was a rail road track with a connection to the main line near the railway bridge and further switched to Thompson Bros. foundry and onto the wharfs of Nickerson Bros. Other businesses on the wharf side were ‘Grant Ship’s Chandler,’ and a fish market. I don’t remember much about the farm, only that they grew vegetables for the inn. I do recall going from the Inn to the farm on the open back of a truck. Someone was holding on to the fully decorated birthday cake. It was Elliot’s birthday. We were two years old. | 6

7: Boyhood and the War My early years were war years. It was a time of change. Men went to war and women went to work. Liverpool population grew from 2700 to 4500. Just about everything was rationed and used for war. There were no fresh fruits and vegetables. Some aircraft were made with plywood. Bumpers on cars were wood instead of steel. They even melted down a WW1 canon that was in the park at Fort Point. We had an apartment rented out within our home for use by military personnel. The sinking of a ship off Liverpool heightened the need to ensure that the blackout was complete with not a crack of light visible in the community. Dad was a time keeper on ship work at the paper mill but he was also an Air Raid Warden. He was issued a steel army helmet with letters ARP. After the war, we used the helmet to play military games. | The Riverside Inn, Home of the Cook Family. | 7 | Soldiers on Parade, Liverpool in the 1940's

8: (L) A sailor/boarder posing with Rosemary and Ron | (R) Brother Ed in Cadet uniform, Rosemary and Ron (wearing his father's ARP helmet. | (Below) Helen Lane (mom), Rosemary and Ron (Front) & Two Boarders in back. | 8 | A frigate in Liverpool Harbour (Above)

9: The Circus I have a memory; I used to read about Toby Tyler, a little boy who ran away and joined the circus. The Circus came to Liverpool. They set up in the vacant lot corner of Payzant Street and Old Port Mouton Road. One of the attractions was cowboy Tex Ritter. John Ritter of TV fame was his son. He was at the end of his career. He rode in, rose up on his hind legs, and rode off. I was impressed. I could do that! I told my friend and I thought up a plan. At the back of our house there was a deck cut into the attic. A tree limb reached out to provide a bridge to the ground via the tree. Six AM and all was so quiet. I was out and over to the tree then to the ground and I was on my way. Hugh, however, was no where to be seen. A few pebbles tossed at his bedroom window, and still no results. So that was it. Dreams of Toby Tyler and the circus were over. Might just as well go back to bed and get some more sleep | 9

10: 10

11: The Saturday movies started with news reels of how our troops were winning the war and how evil German and Japanese people were. We heard of two Germans, visibly foreign, being arrested by the town constable. There was a lot of talk of war on our door step. We heard of German sub crews taking leave ashore, of subs being refueled, of our patrol boats unsuccessfully chasing a yacht that was built for that purpose. They went to South America leaving their family in Liverpool to be united after the war. When the war was over some of the boys who went to war came back as men. They returned from war and went back to school to complete their education. The Beaches Enough of that! Let’s go to the beach and enjoy the wonderful environment that we took for granted. Summerville Beach was a favorite. It was about a mile long, a nice sandy beach with dunes separating the bog from Broad River. The river and the ocean unite under the railway trestle. The railway and an access road ran the length of the beach behind the dunes. The railway did little to maintain or police their property. None the less, it was a favorite gathering spot by the day or by moving in the camper for the season. It was also a favorite gathering place for returning former citizens. Beach Meadows beach was also very popular. | 11

12: Mixing Drinks Mom and Dad enjoyed their rooftop patio. It was a good place to receive guests, and an outdoor solitude at home. I had been mixing juices and getting tasty good results. A lot of family was visiting at the time. Dad suggested that my concoction would make a nice cool refreshment. I gathered up all the juices in the fridge and went to work. It was drinks all around! I was a failure and my mixture was unfit to drink I had grabbed Mazola oil thinking it was apple juice! I WANT TO GO HOME! This is another wartime adventure at a very early age. I was about ten years old. My family was visiting a family in Dartmouth. There were kids in both families that seemed to get on well. The parents decided that it would be a good idea for me to stay on. So I stayed and I became familiar with the military community of Halifax and Dartmouth. I became anxious. Were they going to be keeping me? So, early in the morning, at about sunrise, I was on a mission. I was going home. During those war years two of my Aunts had husbands in the Navy stationed in Halifax. There was a ferry operated by the military. It could be boarded at stops in both cities at military sites. So there I was. I got on the ferry and rode to Halifax and connected with the street car and rode to the end of the line. The trolley operator walks from one end to the other flipping the seat backs to face the other way for the return. I reached my destination about mid morning. They were pretty much in panic mode. Amazing what a little fellow can do! | 12

13: Rhythm Band My first introduction to an organized activity was the rhythm band. It was part of the musical for parents. It was like a group day care activity. We all had a costume; I think it was red and white with a pill box cap. We each had a percussion instrument, a block of wood, a tambourine, a drum, and symbols. It gave a bit of pride to be part of the group and working together we had produced a somewhat musical product. Piano And then there were my piano lessons, Five years of lessons, and I remember one piano march at a recital as the only achievement. I really was not a performer. Aunt Betty commented on my performance as a dash out to the piano stool, a quick march, “Soldiers on parade”, and a rush to get off the stage. Oh well, I did my best such as it was. | Bettyann stands on the Main St. House' Rooftop Patio. | 13

14: Boy Scouts Next in line was scouting (Boy Scouts). They were sponsored by churches. There were many activities. There were the first and third packs (cubs), and troop (scouts). While these activities were for boys, the adult leaders were mostly ladies and the activities were games and meetings in church halls. I took my scouting seriously. When those in the town were playing, the one troop in Milton was more to my liking. We worked on the various levels and badge programs. I was recognized as the first post war King Scout in a ceremony at the theatre and all the members of the Milton patrol became senior scouts. One of my badges involved an overnight camping trip. It was intended that at least two scouts would go together. I could not get anyone to go, so I went alone. I went out the Old Port Mouton Road to the Five Rivers area, upstream to the lake and built a lean to for the night. The next day it was back to the road and into Hunts Point and back to the railway to town. I still have the log book of my journey with a map. It is sad to think that I could take such a journey then as a youth but now we would be fearful even closer to home. | 14 | (L) A map found in Dad's hike journal depicting his route on the hike described. Overleaf are the cover and a page from that journal.

15: Camp Cook Badge I had another misadventure while working on my camp cook badge. We had taken about six boys to our family cottage at Port Joli and I was to be the cook. I decided to take a hike to see the countryside in the time I had between meals. I took one of those paths that sort of fade away and you are not sure which the right path is. There is some comfort when hiking in such an area that you will find a stream and it will flow to the ocean. I came to a marsh, a pretty wet area, but the water was not moving enough to get my direction. I made my best guess only to find when there was enough water movement that I was going the wrong way. Needless to say, after a very difficult slosh in the marsh, dinner was late. I suppose that I should not have been surprised that dinner had not been started in my absence. My charges were content to wait. | 15

18: Camp Activity We had a different camp activity one year. It was in the war years and much was suspect, particularly in the mind of a ten year old, but I believe that much of it was true. We had a very good camp for scouts at Greenfield, but our leader chose to go to the mouth of the harbour at Frelick’s cove. We thought perhaps he was a spy and he wanted to watch ships coming and going from this location. For us, it was a terrible location. He had us all, cubs and scouts, to a camp site that was basically the side of a wharf rock. A wharf rock was a formation of rock being more solid than the land around it and extending out into the ocean like a rock wharf. There were pools of water on the rocks and our leader chose these pools of water as a place to keep the fish, which I am sure, was rotten, but the plan was to cook this fish. We hiked to Beach Meadows with our fish and established our alternative cooking location. Meanwhile Mom, Dad, Aunt Betty and Uncle Bud had decided to give us all a treat. Uncle Bud was a fisherman and he came to Frelick’s cove to find us gone. They found out where we had gone and came around to the beach and prepared a meal of hot dogs which was much more attractive. The rotten fish was disposed of, probably appropriate as food for the gulls. So a good time was had by all, and the hot dogs were very much appreciated. There was yet another adventure from this horrible camp out. We were Boy Scouts and Wolf Cubs at this camp. The Cubs were for the eight to twelve year olds before they became scouts. My brother, Ed, was a Scout and I was a Wolf Cub. | 16

19: The Scouts were to go on an overnight hike away from the camp site. I guess that it was very important to me that my brother was there. When he was gone, I was not at all happy and I decided to go home. It was about seven miles from Frelick’s Cove to home. It was gravel roads in those days and I encountered some cows on the road and I wanted nothing to do with them so I took to the bush to get around them. I made it home, returning the next morning. I had not been missed when I returned to our camp site. (In later years, in retrospect, it was suspected and suggested that the scout leader was operating as a spy, sending information to enemy ships offshore. This sort of activity was not uncommon in rural coastal areas during WWII. This would explain the deviation from the customary scout camp.) A Scout Project In later years, one of our projects, a tower, was erected on top of the hill where the pond is at the rapids. The tower was made with logs tied together with rope. The tower was visible from the road for many years. | (R) The Scout Tower | 17

20: Right, with Milton Scouts at the Jamboree in Ottawa | Left, as King Scout, en route to 1949 Jamboree | 18

21: The Greenfield Camp The Boy Scout Camp at Greenfield was more appropriate to scouting. I attended five camps, the last one being presented by the Kiwanis Club for under privileged youths. We were able to get four scouts to the first Canadian Boy Scout Jamboree in 1949. We raised money to pay for the trip by selling hot dogs on Main Street every Saturday. We went to Halifax for the first night and stayed at the Carleton Hotel. We wore our scout uniform so we were easily seen. I went for a walk and a nice old gentleman offered to show me around. When I realized he was not such a nice gentleman I made a quick departure. Next day we went to Truro where we were briefed on what to expect. The trip to Ottawa was in old rail cars that had been reactivated for movements related to the war. Our encampment was on the Connought Rifle Ranges. We were in bell tents of eight people. I was selected as leader for the tent. We were given a tour of Parliament. It was quite a process. There was a church service on Sunday and a priest heard confessions walking down a path and back. When I walked long enough to do a return trip the ones waiting thought I must have had more sins. On the dark side, we seemed to be adventurous in our adolescence. We have grown together in school with boys and girls but somehow it seemed different to take an interest in these girls from away. Can you imagine boy scouts taking an interest in other youths from away? The Scout Camp was in Greenfield. A little country store was located near the bridge. This was the gathering place for the youth and both boys and girls took the hour before sunset as free time so they could gather. But the girls in the village were out until about ten while the boys in the camp had the campfire at dusk. Well this will never do. We went through our rituals and retired to our tents. All was quiet, and no one will ever know so we decided to sneak out the back flap on the tent and down to the village where the girls were. Well, that was a great adventure and nobody will ever know, or so we thought. | 19

22: School Days I was not a very good student. Teachers used to comment that my older brother, Ed, and my, sister, Rosemary did so well. Another sister, Bettyann, arrived a decade later. My brother Fred passed away at age ten. | Oops, things don’t seem to go as planned. There is the Scout Master and his assistant sitting on our cots waiting for us to arrive. Well they couldn’t send us home because they needed the leader scouts to run the Kiwanis camp. I have never forgotten the lecture with the words directed at me that some day I would end up in prison. | Left, students in front of the old Jr High, which now houses the Rossignol Center. Ron is standing front row, right. Next page and Top Left, the old Gorham School housed elementary students from 1818 until the 1960's | 20

23: Above and left, the old Liverpool Academy, built in 1898 and demolished in 1996. | Cadets Our school had a very good Army Cadet Corp. There were drills almost every week. We had a rifle range in doors, first in the Junior High (brick building built in 1935) and then in the attic of what we called the Academy. There were some bullet holes in the roof. We did quite well on the rifle range. As I remember it, I had “cross rifles” which was 98%, topped by a crown which was 100%. | 21

24: The big event of the year was the Cadet Ball. The uniform was our formal attire and the young lady would have to have a formal dress. I remember that my partners for two of those events were Shirley Backman and Elinore Jollimore. Barbara Cook also tells me that she was my date and it is sort of floating around in my distant memory right now. She has returned to Liverpool as many people do. She is my cousin’s cousin. That is, her father and Estelle’s father were brothers. Cadets also had summer camp. Two were at Aldershot. This was in Kentville. They hauled out an old train for us and we rode the blueberry express. It was called that because it was so slow. Yes! It really was that slow. I recall a butterfly flying alongside the train and one of the guys opened the window and tried to catch it. He lost his balance and fell out the window of the moving train. The train was on a long turn and he ran across the field and got back on. Our accommodations at Aldershot were in “H” huts. Four sets of barrack rooms each with ten double bunks (upper/lower) and the bathrooms formed the cross bar of the H. We were told that it is forbidden to walk on the parade square except on parade. I would venture to say that activity gave me a foundation for my Air Force career. | 22

25: One time we had some free time and we were all pretty much in our barracks and someone started it. We were in a full fledged water fight. It was one side of the H against the other. I had a brain storm that we could gain an advantage if I could open facing windows between the H section and come in on the other side from behind. The windows were not easily opened and as I reached out I lost my balance and poked my arm through the glass and made deep cuts in my wrist. I set out across the square to the medical office dripping blood. I got four stitches. I still have the scars on my wrist. A safer form of entertainment was the Saturday movies which always started with news reels of how our troops were winning the war and how evil Germans and 'Japs' were. | Shirley Backman was Ron's Date for his final Cadet Ball in 1949 | 23

26: Fred As I remember it, Fred became ill on Halloween and died on Valentine’s Day. Mom and Rosemary were visiting my Aunt Belle in Massachusetts and were called home due to his illness. Fred was moved downstairs to the dining room and Aunt Betty helped with his care until his death. Memories of Fred were getting his picture taken with his new school bag when starting school, and watching as Dad and Ed got the yard ready for skating. I have a memory of Fred going off to school. Not wanting to be left out, I tagged along. This is how I remember it. The teacher gave me pencil and paper and said if I was going to be there that I would have to work. I did some things on the paper and the teacher praised it so I was pretty proud of it. He became ill, and then he died. We were told that the angels had come for him and we should be happy. We were sent to school, I guess to shield us from the undertaking. My teacher, Mrs. Hall, seemed somewhat surprised that we were there and happy for him, as we had been told. I remember Rosemary and I along with Dad went to visit the grave site and I was surprised to see a tear in my Dad’s eye. He told us not to tell Mom. | At Right, a young Rosemary and Ronnie Lane stand at the graveside of their brother, Fred who passed away in 1941 | 24

27: Right, Fred's first day of school in 1939 Below, Ron and Fred on the deck at 'Goose Haven', Port Jolie. Front L toR is Mom, Helen and Aunt Betty and Uncle Walter Cook. Below Right is John Edgar Sr holding Ron, with John Edgar Jr and Fred in front. | 25

28: Church Our family was very much involved with the Catholic Church. This might be because of the loss of my brother at such a tender age. Sisters and mission priests came to our parish for Sunday school training and we participated in all the events of the Catholic calendar. The parish priest said a daily mass and it was mandated that there be an alter boy to assist him. My brother Ed was first, probably for about five years. Most mass times were eight fifteen and on some occasions it interfered with school times and the principal was not pleased if we arrived late for school because we were at mass. In those growing years Rosemary and I had the most in common. Ed was five years my senior and Bettyann is more than a decade younger. Bettyann has taken the lead in keeping the family ties for our generation and the next. That is probably appropriate as we grow older. | Below, Rosemary's 1st Communion | St. Gregory's Catholic Church, Old Bridge Street.,Liverpool | 26

29: Rosemary I do have pleasant memories of Rosemary as a sister and a friend. Distance and all those other things limit us to a day or two a year. It is sad that these later years when we thought we would have the time and ease of travel to enjoy more visits that health concerns should slow us down. Looking back to our growing up years I remember that Rosemary and her three friends, Lou Cushing, Jane Putnam and Phylis Henderson (did I get that right?) often welcomed me along with them. Rosemary was a leader, very much involved. I recall her directing her gifts for her birthday party to the war effort. I recall an occasion where I was being picked on and my sister stepped in and would have none of that. Then there were the boxing gloves. I had two pair and a couple of friends watched us pretending we were boxers, sparring I guess it’s called. Rosemary wanted to try it but didn’t want to get hurt. We reassured her and the gloves were on. Very quickly Rosemary established herself as champ. | Rosemary, Bettyann & Ron, 1944 | 27

30: The recollection of boxing with Rosemary reminds me of the boxing in the carriage house. That is a pre automobile garage. Our property, the old Captain Barss Mansion, had a carriage house with three large doors and an upper floor covering the entire area of the building. It was often used as a meeting hall and for community events. Bert Sprague was a scout leader and the scouts met there. Bert also used it for training boxers, which seemed to be a fairly popular sport at that time. I got to go with the Liverpool boxers to some out of town events. I also got involved in the boxing as a second. There was Sapp’s boxing and Tiger Warrington was there sometimes. He had won a title as a boxer. I recall, going to Bridgewater and being a second in the ring. The carriage house would be used later as a warehouse for the furniture store. While I am describing the lot, I should mention the toilet facilities. The house had been made into apartments and along the back property line was a row of outhouses. Five sets of two holes with the apartment number on each door. Then around the North West corner at the garden was a one unit two seater. | (L) Friends for Life & (R) One of many family photos to be taken in front of 'Lanes' Bettyann, (Center) | 28

31: The Teen Years Basketball The teen years were pretty good years. Danny Seaman coached the Liverpool High School teams. Probably the most intense was the basketball. The gym was in the temperance hall. This was located in what is now a vacant lot at the top of Gorham Street. The team got lots of enthusiastic support, even for away games. Two away events that stand out in my memory were in Lunenburg and Shelburne. The former event had the team and a entrusted cheering section designated but the bus was full and there were more who wanted to go. I undertook to get us there by hiring Archie Croft’s Taxi. With jump seats in the middle he had a seven seat capacity and we were set to go. The Principal heard of my undertaking and insisted that a teacher had to be present. There was a Milton bus that provided service hourly on a Liverpool, Brooklyn, Milton circuit. We were able to hire the bus to take the team and supporters to the event. There was a dance afterward so the trip home was after the dance, like around midnight. But the bus broke down. We hung around for awhile but when it became evident that there was no immediate resolution I told the group that I had an Uncle who had a hotel in Lunenburg and I would be going there. Every one was of like mind and my uncle long remembered that bus load of unexpected teenagers. I never heard how, or if the hotel got paid and yes, there were teacher chaperones from Liverpool on the bus. | 29

32: Water Sports The school decided to enter a team at a provincial competition in water sports at Acadia University. A notice was posted that anyone who was interested should report after school for transportation to White Point Lodge for training. I was not at all capable for competitive swimming but I was attracted to the opportunity to regularly swim at the lodge. I convinced my friend Frank that this was a great opportunity and that we should not miss out. So we got lots of swimming during the fall season. The day came when the list was posted. We would not have dared to opt out at the final hour. Frank and I were listed as spares so we got to go. That wasn’t too scary. We went to Acadia for the event but we were just spares. “Ok Frank, we need a spare, you are doing the back stroke.” Well that was a sight to see. The swimmers were getting out of the pool at the finish and Frank hadn’t made it half way. He was on his back flailing in his attempt to make the proper stroke. We found lots of things to do and not all of them good. Life was a party and sometimes you get caught. At the Astor Theater there was a fire exit leading from the washrooms. One of us could pay, open the door, and let the others in. It seemed like good idea until a very big man who worked for the theater appeared. The next thing I knew I was sitting in the middle of the street somewhat dazed. | 30

33: Then, of course, there was Halloween. Firecrackers were illegal so some of the guys were making explosives with pipe. One fellow said that had his pipe exploded it would have lifted Knowles Island behind our property. I was carrying one of these pipe bombs. Luckily it exploded into an open field. The next day the Chief of Police came to see Dad with a list of names that he was following. The name on the list was R Lane. They were looking for Rosemary. After they had left I think it was Dad who realized that he two R Lanes. I guess the conclusion was that Rosemary was not guilty and Rosemary was not accused. Case Closed! | Left, Rosemary, Ed, Bettyann &Ron at Goosehaven | Right, Ron at 13 | 31

34: Score this one for the unusual; it was in the early years and I was very young, but this is what I remember and it seemed to be very real. It was in the bedroom at the top of the stairs in the first house we lived (Susan lives next door to there now.) I can remember details like the room was messy and the bed was not made. Then I was looking down into the bedroom. It was very quiet and peaceful. It was as though I was levitating! As I came into my teens and I had no desire to go to college like my siblings. I feel for certain that Dad was trying to reach out to me. So, we went hunting. That’s what men do. We got out in the woods quite often. One time I got sort of lost as the sun set and the darkness moved in. I lost my trail and I was heading through the bush. I did make it through the bush after causing concern for Dad and other hunters. | 32

35: Port Joli Mom and Dad wanted to be able to get away from the rat race so they built a large cabin at Port Joli. They called it Goose Haven, and they built two cabins for rentals. During the summer I stayed at the cabins to handle the rentals. Building the cabins was an adventure in itself. The vehicle we had at the time was also quite interesting. It was a Pierce Arrow (about 1934). It had 12 cylinders and was built like a tank. It was a chauffer driven vehicle with a sliding glass partition between the driver and passengers. There were folding jump seats in the space between driver and passengers. I recall one time he had about a dozen bags of cement as his load. Back to the cabins. They were built by Charlie Theriault. He was elderly resident of Port Joli. It was log siding. We had to dig a well. We had many visitors during the process. Dad’s siblings often joined us and one was married to a plumber so he got involved during his vacation. {It’s difficult to recall their names now. There was a Black, and O’Teri, plus 2 or 3 more. How easy it is to forget!} | (L) Ron looks on as boulders are upturnd (R) Ed sets a pole. | 1946

36: (L) Ron with pistol horsing around at card game. (R) Ron takes aim again, while Neil and Luke wait their turn | Let’s talk about guns. I was for gun control. I have used guns in my years. I have mentioned the rifle range from the army cadets. I had a 12 gauge shot gun. I returned to the cabin once without my hat. It seems that when I fired at birds I knocked my hat off. I had a WW1 Ross Rifle that I had the wood carved decoratively. I also had a 22 revolver while in Goose Bay which I sold in Goose Bay. While I was there I had a visit from the police because it had been used in a robbery. And I still have a Red Rider BB Gun that is in working order. I think it belonged to Brother Fred who probably never got to use it. It was brought out and used by Sheila’s boys this Christmas. The House on The Mersey Back to the Barss House. This property has evolved over the years. Some old maps show a street running straight in from Bristol Avenue and turning into the point. This would seem to have at one time crossed the river to Old Bridge Street. Dad had attempted to buy the land. It had been purchased as diversion while the new bridge was built in 1961-62. Government policy on sale of land is that the first | 34

37: opportunity of surplus property is offered to the next level of government. The town decided to take up the option and bought the land. | Barss Mansion, 1940's | I was able to work out a lease to Lanes of Liverpool. They wanted $500 but I pointed out the fact that merchants on the other side of the river got free customer parking. We settled at $100 and Lanes allows access to the boat ramp. This seems to be working well. | Next to the boat ramp lease was a pier pretty well filled in. When we got in heavy equipment to dig it out we found what was the hull of a ship that might have had some historical significance if we had not messed up. This connected with the Ryan property which we obtained from the estate. The Ryan property including a strip from the Locke property, was also purchased by me. The Ryan property, the best of the lots all along the river, was leased by the Ryan Estate to Liverpool Furnishing Limited. This was Charlie Gallant and Harley Umphrey. When they built a warehouse right in the middle, Dad was greatly disturbed. This structure, built for storage, cut off the view of the river. Someone said that things come out for the best. When Liverpool Furnishings were gone and the Ryan Estate was being settled the warehouse was traded: Roof Trusses for a fishing boat. It was a large building. The trusses went to Albert Roy and were used for renovations of his B&B. | 35

38: The Air Force Years Now I am finished with school and I have to find my place in the world. I think that perhaps Mom and Dad were at odd ends on this. His advice was not to end up at the paper mill. By chance he noticed a person in Air Force uniform at the service station across the street. He asked him if he was a recruiting officer. He replied that they all were recruiting officers. I thought that was a good welcoming response. They had become friends. Dad talked to the Moncton Lanes, Francis and Leo and they were to give me employment at Lanes Bakery. So as it happened, a lot of my friends were also talking about joining up. I was perhaps the only one to do it. I went to Moncton with Clem. Clem was a traveling sales representative for beauty parlor supplies. Mom was a Hairdresser. It was an interesting trip as he called on his customers for the rest of the day. They had arranged accommodation for me at a boarding house. I think it was Belliveau but I’m not sure. I got $20 per week and paid $12 for room and board; I think that the landlady and Leo were married some time later. Then I went to work at the bakery. I was in the shipping department. A truck came in having finished his route for the day and returned the empty boxes which I put on the pile for reuse. The trucks kept coming and the pile grew higher. When I got to the point where I was not too busy I was to mow the lawn. | 36

39: . | Lanes Bakery Moncton, N.B. 1950's | Ron, with whom I believe to be Moncton relatives at Goose Haven in 1948 Helen and Ed (Ron's parents) are left and Ron is 3rd from right. Far right is Rosemary | Moncton | 37

40: I suppose I had unrealistic expectations as a teenager in a minimum wage position. My uncles had told Dad they would have moved me up in time, but I didn’t wait. This is where I made my first move to enlist. First of all, to set the stage, I would suggest that Mom was probably overprotective of me because of the loss of my brother. She had convinced me that every ache and pain might require medical attention. So I go to the Moncton recruiting office and go through the application process giving the answers I thought were appropriate. When the interview is finished he tells me I can tell my mother I failed and I can’t join the service. So I returned home as an unemployed teenager trying to find his place. When I tried to enlist a second time, I was a fair bit wiser. I went to the recruiting office in Halifax and was accepted. There I met another applicant that I came to know throughout the years and in different locations. My service number was 46624, he was 46619. Bob Steel was his name. He left the service and took up his trade in the DOT (Department of Tranport). At Hay River NWT he and the one teacher at the school were the only non native people. He married the teacher. So, now I was in the Air Force. After a brief trip home I would receive travel documents to Basic Training at St. Jean PQ. Travel was on the Dominion Atlantic Railroad (DAR) up the Annapolis Valley to Digby, across the Bay of Fundy to St. John, NB. From there we got back on the DAR to Montreal, getting off at St. Jean. | 38

41: Ron in Quebec City, 1952 (right) With his father and Rosemary at Clinton, center | Site-seeing with his Mom and Rosemary. | 39

42: As I arrived on a weekend I got signed in and was told to start training Monday morning. I was a bit surprised to have such freedom as a beginning to a military career. I could have hung around the barracks all weekend but I decided I would visit my brother Ed in Montreal. I got to visit and see a bit of Montreal before heading back. Ed and Cecile had a small apartment with the bed and the sofa taking turns by rotating the wall. It was a bedroom but turn the wall half way around and it was a sitting room. A small bathroom and kitchen filled the rest of the space. I got to sleep on the kitchen floor. So come Monday things started in earnest. There were twenty bunk beds, ten up and ten down. That was our space and everything had to be perfect. Life consisted of needle parade, clothing parade and lots of drill and finished with spit and polish and frequent critical inspections. The basic training was a four week period in which they did their best to break you down. There was no discussion. They gave an order and you obeyed. Hesitate and it was over. I saw guys who cried and begged for another chance but one slip and you were out, no discussion. Once we were doing drill as a platoon when the leader gave an order: “Lane! Fall out! Double time around the hangar! Go!” I ran until he told me to stop. | 40

43: CFB Clinton Established in 1941 as part of the British Commonwealth Air Training Plan (BCAT) RCAF Clinton was a radar intercept school. | 41

44: Then I was transfered to the communications school in Clinton, Ontario which is north of London. The school was known as 1R&CS. I think that was 1 Radio & Communications School. The objective under my section was to learn touch typing on blank keys and then copy from typewriter directly from morse to hard copy (paper) While at Clinton I used all my weekends to travel. I may be a bit mixed up but I recall hitch hiking from Clinton to Quebec City which was about seven hundred and fifty miles. I also remember that I felt I wanted to visit Ed. Out on the road the uniform helped a lot and I made several trips. The Clinton trip to Quebec City turned into quite an adventure. It was rainy and miserable. I only got as far as Montreal and went to the RCAF base in Lachine, PQ. There was a Guard House at the main gate at Lachine. They allowed me to sleep in one of the cells. Thankfully, they left the door open. I had a plan that on Monday morning I would go RCAF Dorval and I would most likely be able to catch a flight to Toronto. Well it was still raining and miserable and I found RCAF Dorval was under strict secrecy because a royal visit was incoming. Being in uniform wasn’t enough. Those who had a valid purpose to and had the required documentation could enter; others, no way. So, there I was back on the road in the rain. Well I thought I was lucky when I picked up a ride going right through to Toronto. The car was full, about four I guess. They were pleased to give a serviceman a lift. They had some people they wanted to visit, but it wouldn’t be long so they invited me in. As time went by I got bolder and began to try to get my ride to continue the trip. I lost | 42

45: track of the numbers of visits they made and I was kindly invited in when I really just wanted to keep moving. Yes, it was still raining very hard and I did not want to give up this ride the whole way to Toronto. My first tour of duty in the Royal Canadian Air Force began as I was stationed at Maritime Air Command in Halifax. We provided communications with military aircraft when they went out of range. A major part of our service was the rescue control center. | Men and Women of the RO 46. Ron is back row, 4th from right. | 43

46: Carol and Ron Here comes the Ron Lane family as I recall. Let me start with Carol. We had to come together to produce all those very special kids. I had just finished a tour of duty (RCAF) at Goose Bay Labrador. So! How did we get together? Well, there was Pub, a friend who had made the same move from Goose Bay months earlier. Actually, it was his problem. How do you get time with your date with the other two friends ever present? He had three dates but only time for one. There were three guys, and three girls. We all decided to go to a movie. As I recall it, the movie was one of the first CinemaScope’s. We solved the dilemma by drawing names out of a hat. This ‘double double’ date event resulted in three marriages. One resulted in a very successful marriage and nine unique and wonderful children! When I took Carol home from our date, I suggested we might see each other again. She replied, “Maybe some time...if I feel like it”. With her indifferent response I was sure that there was nothing in the future for us. But Pub was still stuck with too many girls for a real date! In spite of the somewhat cool reception, Pub made another pairing attempt. He told Carol that I was asking about her. This led to another date, and then to a relationship. A transfer to Germany resulted in a June wedding, a brief separation and a two year “honeymoon” in Europe. | 44

47: 45

48: Carol and I were wed in June 1954. I was transferred to four Fighter wing at Baden Solingen, Germany. Married Quarters were under construction so the onus was on the individual to find accommodation “on the economy” or wait for the new PMQs . I was fortunate in that the River Side Inn (Aunt Betty) had a German couple as guests who gave me copies of the local newspapers. The Occupancy, Ten years from 1945 so I had some basic German and a vague idea of what the people there were feeling about Canadians in their midst. After Air Force I was stationed in Whitehorse, Yukon. I had signed up for a third five year term. I was a Radio Operator, Communications Operator provisional. The provisional trade was because of changes in the operation system. Morse code was only used in isolated situations and for listening over the pole. Radio Operators were being reclassified as teletype operators. I was fully functional and operating in both mediums but had not been tested. Backing up...after I had served a five year term, I was released and worked in the family business. Then it was to Halifax to work for the Department of Transport as a Radio Operator. It was somewhat ironic that my assignment with the DOT positioned me not only in the same center, but in the same seats doing the same work. DOT on hiring me had promised early progression. When this did not occur I decided that I might as well wear the uniform and do the job I was trained for. Then they made an offer but I told them it had already been done and I was back in the Air Force. | 46

49: Ron and Carol (later Cathy) in Germany | Baden Solingen Base, Germany | 47

50: Five years later, it was the same sort of thing. I was fully satisfied and had reenlisted for a third five year term. I was in the Yukon. I had a nice home and was provided with many recreational activities. I published the unit’s newsletter which came out monthly with as many as sixty pages. I also wrote a column and feature items in The Whitehorse Star and became involved with the School Board Shortly after I had signed up for another five years and all the paper work had been done, I received a call from Mom who said they needed help in the business. Dad was running an extensive furniture store and they were moving into the motel business. They had made arrangements for an independent operator for the coffee shop. This fell through and Mom thought I should do it. People tried to talk me out of it, but Mom had called and I thought it was the thing to do. I remember the bank manager saying: “You will get home and you will get paid about fifty dollars a week.” He was right. To be fair I received an apartment in the hotel, but it was a big step backward. I responded to the call, got my release papers reinstated and set out for home with five kids and a sixteen foot trailer on a three week trip across Canada from Whitehorse, Yukon to Liverpool, Nova Scotia. The adventure began with the Alaska Highway. It was 918 miles of gravel road (in those days) through the Rocky Mountains! The first thing my father said to me was “why did you come home?” It was like starting over. I have always regretted it, although in my various endeavors I have had an interesting life which included traveling abroad with various organizations. | 48

51: Family at Forces Base (L) Alaska, with Cathy (R) | Left, Ron always loved a parade! (R) Cathy, Debbie & Joan The Golden Hornet was a base publication edited by Ron Athabasca Icefields (R) | 49

52: The car was 101 hp, and with the heavy load it had difficulty going over the mountains. On one mountain the wheels were barely turning as we reached the highest point on the highway. The road was just about insurmountable. Then the axle of the trailer broke loose. We were fortunate to come to an auto shop and got the break in the spring welded. What luck! Maybe not so good! Sixty miles down the road, the weld broke loose. The axle broke loose again and there was no shop to fix it. The axle stayed in place held mainly by weight and we had little choice but to keep going. The wheel, resting on the broken axle, smashed through the trailer housing and continued to smash its way for the rest of the Alaska Highway. In those days credit cards were processed for payment in as much as two to three weeks. Good thing! I was running up unexpected charges, and was able to get credit for the repair job that didn't hold. While repairs were made we did laundry. After many miles of sand and dirt entering our home on wheels, we filled five machines at the laundromat and we cleaned the trailer throughout. | A Picnic stop along the way 1962 | 50

53: Carol in trailer with broken axel. | Ron with family on an earlier stop in Sask, 1960 | Sister-in-law, Joan with Nephew Roger & Cathy | A brief stint as a cowhand. | 51

54: Fifty Years Later... Well, it would seem my father's memoirs end here, with the exception of some random thoughts, which I'll include as appropriate. He has mentioned that he has Parkinson's Disease. Since he began this project in order to graduate from high school at age 79, at Sheila's strong urging, he has had many setbacks and his health will not see him through to the end of this one endeavor. With the help of my siblings, I'll attempt to fill in something of those missing years. So we left off where Dad arrives at Lanes after crossing the country with his wife and five young children. Our early years were spent in an apartment on the second floor of what is now “The Inn.” Our little trailer made a few trips with our grandparents south to Florida and west to California. It never did come back, though. Dad’s father died in April of 1965 at the age of 60, his mother 15 years later. Over the years Dad contributed to the growth and success of “Lanes of Liverpool” and helped to raise what would become nine of us children. In addition he contributed to his community as a member or leader of almost every organization within the town, county, province and nationally. He also attended a phenomenal number of meetings! | (L) 1967, Family trip to New Jersey (R) Paul's 1st Communion. There were 7 of us kids then | 52

55: Sunday was always family day. No matter how busy Dad was we would always go for Sunday drives, beach trips or long hikes. This would be followed by a family dinner and, at some point, Dad would line us up, Grandparents and all, for a photo op. | 53

56: Random thought Number One: (In Dad's own words) “I Like Meetings” "It has been suggested that if I didn’t have a meeting to go to that I would call one. I only know that I enjoyed meetings because there is structure. Everyone has a right and a responsibility to express their views and listen to others. A free for all meeting often sees everyone talking and no one listening. I have seen meetings that go on way after midnight, decide nothing, and build animosity among participants. First thing to do at a meeting is to listen. Don’t talk if you have nothing to say, and nothing to contribute. When you speak it always helps to have something to say that supports another speaker. He/she is more likely to support your position if he/she senses that you are in support of something they have said, even if they don’t agree with you on all points. This approach has worked for me. I am a quiet person, often the last to speak and I have often taken leadership positions. My number one rule for meetings is to stick to the agenda. If there has to be an addition to the agenda it should be at the beginning. When the approved agenda is complete the meeting is over. Meetings that go on with new items added are destroyed. Information may be biased or incomplete!" | 54

57: Ron, far left as a national delegate to a UNESCO summit, Geneva, Switzerland 1984 & At right as Mayor of Liverpool from (1985-1996) | 55 | (L) Japan 1976 All I know is we were all really really glad when our parents came home! | Dad attended meetings 7 days (and nights) a week in venues ranging from Moncton to Tokyo to Cypress to New Orleans and all points in between.

58: Above with Sheila, Baby Linda and Susan in 1971. | Above , in Liverpool, and Left, Whitehorse, at Pioneer Days | Parade of Privateers (R), (Left) chatting with grandsons, Neil and Luke in 2012 | Always an active participant in Pioneer Days (Whitehorse ), Dad enthusiastically brought his version to Liverpool in the 1960s | 56

59: There were some fun things that Dad worked on, too. 'Privateer Days' was one which he embraced since its inception. Dad loves being in the parade, year after year. He was instrumental in beginning Pioneer Days in the 1960s. Over the years, Privateer Days has evolved and has attracted tens of thousands of visitors to Liverpool and has fostered a great deal of civic pride. It's also a really good time! I remember fondly how many generations of our family would come from near and far to get together during that week for a very well celebrated reunion. | (L) End of Parade 2013 (R) Historic Dinner | (L) With Grandson, Brian & Susan (R) Grandchildren,Caroline, Luke & Neil with Sheila & Ron | 57

60: This picture accompanied a story on the 50th Anniversary of Lanes Privateer Inn. From left are manger Susan Lane, Ron Lane, manager Terry Lane and Linda Lane. | Reunions Privateer Days would ring in the summer and bring together relatives to celebrate with family, fun and laughter...and really good food! | (R) Back row, Bettyann, Fred, Carol, Ron and Ed Front, Cecile, Rosemary & Dick. | The Lanes' Dory Team. I think we had 3 teams in the race that year. (2002) Dad is far right, then our cousins Sharon & Fred Lane | Sheila's Summer Wedding, 1992 A whole lot of us! | 58

61: (L) Bettyann, Ron, Rosemary, & Ed | Above, Dad with Ed | (L) Debbie with son, Brian dig into the very popular seafood feast provided by Bettyann and Fred Jennings | Above Lily, Paul, Linda, Dad, Susan & Brian | Below, Neil, Caroline,Sheila,Luke, Anne & Dad | (L) Bettyann happily prepares the feast | 59

62: Lanes Privateer Inn, A Brief History | Captain Joseph Barss | 60

63: Since so much of our father's life was wrapped up in what we now call "The Inn", I would be remiss not to include a section on just that. Top left is the inn in 1947. Next is an aerial photo depicting also the carriage house, outbuildings and the old town bridge Middle left is the building with a prominent furniture store from the 1950's Middle right, The Inn under construction in the 1950's At right, as it stood in the '70's | (R) The Inn in the 1980's | 61

64: This spread depicts a Lanes Brochure from the 1960's The background fill is a photo of the Liverpool Packet float which graced many a parade route in NS in those days. As kids we rode it dressed as pirates. Good times! | 62

66: Above, Dad with old & new signs 1996 | signs of the times | At left are Rosemary and Bettyann in the early 50s. This picture was taken at The Mahone Bay franchise of Lanes of Liverpool (and Mahone Bay ) Gifts and Furnishings | 64

67: From The Archives | (R) Is the photo and caption from The Advance, August 9, 1962 | (L) The page spread dedicated to the re-opening of Lanes post its 'Furniture Store Era'. The Paper is datelined Thurs, Nov. 30, 1967. (A close-up of the article is on the following page) | 65

68: Below, some of the new amenities to be found at the revamped premises, largely the result of Ron's vision | 66

69: A Brief History (Found on the Lanes website) "In 1947 Edgar and Helen Lane purchased 27 Bristol Avenue, a rather neglected rooming house with an 8 hole outhouse in the backyard. Ed and Helen opened the largest furniture store on the south shore. Folks would block Bristol Avenue to catch a glimpse of I Love Lucy or Ed Sullivan on the snowy television set in the front windows while Ed and his son, Ron, wrestled with the giant antenna on the roof. Lanes went through many changes. Furniture Store, a beauty salon, a jewelry store and even rented apartments upstairs. In 1962 Ed and Helen decided to make a major shift in business. They expanded the existing structure and added hotel guest rooms. They also included a restaurant, banquet room and coffee shop. Their son Ron, and his growing family moved from Whitehorse to help with the ever-increasing family business. For many years, Ron ran the family business all the while raising nine children with his beloved wife Carol, plus involving himself with local politics. Ron Lane was mayor of The Town of Liverpool from 1985-1996. | Ron’s children, Susan, Terry and Linda now work together to manage Lanes. In 1994 Susan opened Snug Harbour Books and in 1998 she further expanded the shop and opened Snug Harbour Gourmet Shop. Lanes Privateer Inn has been through many changes over the years but one common thread makes The Inn what it is today ~ family means everything and every guest is treated like family." | 67

70: The picture at right accompanied a story on the 50th Anniversary of Lanes Privateer Inn. From left are manger Susan Lane, Ron Lane, manager Terry Lane and Linda Lane. The Inn continues to evolve to meet the needs of the community it serves. | Bottom and Right, The Inn in 2012 | 68

71: Generation 3 Stories From My Children

72: Since my father's written story has all but ended, I'm going to begin here with some stories from our generation and beyond. This one stems from his random thoughts (the second one). He has written previously about the Cape Island boat saga. I'll give you his version first: "I mentioned the Cape Island boat that I had received in exchange for my roof trusses. With respect for the sea and the coast I undertook some navigational training at night school unfortunately, I did not achieve my objective in the classroom. It was more difficult to learn on the water. In my relationship with the sea, for me, the sea won. I did get to use the boat mostly in the inner waters. On the occasion of a visit of a number of Carol’s family I decided to give them an outing to Coffin Island. I got there all right, but the boat was not up to the return trip. For most of the trip home it was down to one cylinder, putt, putt, for a very slow return. When we got back my anxious passengers had nothing to say about the trip. Then there was the trip, again to the Island with my kids. On the return trip the engine conked out. While I was trying to restart we were drifting into a very rocky shore line. Finally I got it going but we were in the rocks and each wave lifted the boat and banged it down again on a rock. We had to get out of there and quick, or we would break in and sink. I gave my daughter, Joan, a quick lesson, when I holler give it the throttle. I climbed over the side on to the rock and watch the waves. The next wave, yell, scramble on to the boat and we rode free on the wave. | The Cape Islander | 70

73: " | There was what was left of the wharf at the old yacht site and I had tied the boat up there. The storm was giving the boat a pretty rough time. I was in the water and I had brought my maintenance man for the hotel to help me. He quit there and then. The boat broke free and was out in the harbor, and it was a real storm. I received a call from the Coast Guard that my boat was a hazard to navigation and I was to remove it at once. " | This is the part where I get to add a bit because this is an event I do remember well. After the most wise maintenance man resigned, Dad came back to the house to recruit help. It may also be noted that this “storm” was, in a fact, a hurricane. Debbie and I started through the back field for the wharf when Mom came running out to save her children. Debbie went back, but I was up for a battle. I remember standing in waist deep water trying to hold this Cape Island boat steady so Dad could lash it to the wharf with wind and waves fighting us every step of the way. The boat was bucking like a mad elephant. It must have been 11pm and I should have been in bed on a school night. After an incredible struggle, the boat was well tied and safe from the storm, or so we thought. The next morning, when we looked to see how our boat had fared, we were dismayed to discover that the wharf (which had resisted such storms for the better part of a century) was no longer there. Pieces of our boat drifted ashore for quite some time afterward. Life with our father was always an adventure. | Joan | 71

74: At right, Dad with Pam & Joan, Pine Grove Park, Oct 2010 | Left, Debbie and Joan on the ferry from Yarmouth to Bar Harbour. 1967 | (Above)Dad & Joan Whitehorse 1961 | Below, with Daron at Upper Clements, waving at Grandparents | Below, with Dad and Elliot, 1984 | Below, Age 14, 1972 | 72

75: The rest of these stories about our life with Dad continue with Sheila's, since she was the first to contribute. Sheila is child number 8 in our incredibly large family. She has been a loving and supportive daughter to both our parents and a wonderful sister. We really owe the fact that Dad has written any kind of an autobiography to her, since it was she who encouraged him to return to school and complete grade twelve at 78 years of age. In order to do this, he was to write his memoirs, such as you see them here. He succeeded and graduated last year at 79. For Christmas this year, and we all fear it may be his last, she has asked that I compile those stories and have them published. While there are blanks in his memoires, I’m hoping we can fill them in with a few memories of our own. | 73 | More | Sheila

76: My Dad is known in Liverpool and beyond for a lot of different things. He was mayor of Liverpool for a better part of the 1980’s. He owned a prominent business and landmark in Liverpool. He was King Lion for a time and even District Governor of Local 41-N2. He travelled with Mom to the States and Japan in that role. We spent many an hour in small town parking lots and community halls while he fulfilled the commitments of District Governor. We had everything from paintings to cribbage boards given to him as a token of thanks from Lions’ clubs all over. Dad, to the awe of everyone, at 79 years of age received his high school diploma but for years was involved in school board work including president of the Nova Scotia School Board Trustees Association. He was a big time Liberal, Catholic, Legionnaire and all around good citizen. He was committed to Tourism in the town, region and the province and active in many roles as an ambassador for tourism – including Sea Sell. He marched in parades as a pirate and later a privateer when historical accuracy became of interest to him. He was dedicated to the establishment and growth of Privateer Days’ from making floats for parades to serving up BBQ hamburgers, to log rolling in leather dress shoes to walking the 5 miles of the Bridge Run. | Sheila's Story | 74

77: No where could this man go in Liverpool without people knowing him from Little Ronnie to Ron to Mr. Lane. He was quite the king of Kensington in his own rite. But that is not the role that stood out for a seven year old me in the early seventies. My dad drove the purple school bus for the Lions’ Club and many a time I got to travel to various parts of the province either as daughter of the driver or as part of the group en route to an adventure. I remember Sunday school picnics, a day at Keji for an adult group of people living with disabilities to an Ice Capades trip at the new Metro Centre in Halifax. I remember a mix of pride and fear (and embarrassment) that my dad drove the bus. Pride because the bus driver had a role demanding tremendous respect from the passengers. Embarrassment because, well, it was my dad and the bus was really purple - with yellow trim. The fear was because my dad invariably got sleepy and sometimes even dozed off when we drove even short distances. In hindsight, it seems amazing that he...and Mom...thought it was a good idea for him to drive 50 little Brownies to Halifax in the winter. I used to encourage loud and off key singing in the hopes that would keep Dad awake for the journey. Well, despite all my mixed emotions, I recall one time proposing three cheers for the purple bus at the end of a trip where thankfully we all arrived home safe and sound. Of all Dad’s incredible roles that drew him respect and fame (and infamy) driving the purple school bus stands out as one of my favorites. | 75

78: New Skis! (L) Sheila skis with Mom 1979 | (Above) With Linda & Humpty Dumpty '76 (L) First Bike, 1975 | At Keji, Frisbee with Dad | 76

79: Kejimkujik Park We are not what you would call an inherently sporty family. But most of my warmest family memories involve somewhat athletic endeavours from canoeing to hiking to cross country skiing. In fact my love for all three activities stems from my childhood and was instilled by my parents. I recall sitting on the floor of the middle of the canoe while my dad paddled Linda, Mom and I to the backdrop of a beautiful setting sun on Lake Keji. I recall hiking anywhere and everywhere – Cadden Bay, Nickerson's Pond & Kejimkujik, to name a few favourites. Perhaps longer and later then we intended. Perhaps through alders. Perhaps somewhat lost. I still love to wander aimlessly in woods. Probably my favorite athletic love is cross country skiing. It has taken me from a winter poo-pooer to a winter lover. It has afforded me some of my most memorable, beautiful, peaceful moments. It’s a love I share with my boys and Geoff...even Susan, Paul and Anne and company. I recall one of my fondest memories of my life – a winter’s day adventure to Kejimkujik National Park back in probably 1980ish. One Christmas Dad, Terry and Paul all received cross country skis for Christmas – so exciting and other worldly and adventurous. Perhaps two years later, Santa followed suit by bringing Mom, Anne, Susan. Linda and me the same exciting gift. On this day, Keji was seemingly untouched by human intrusion...a blanket of sparkling snow lit by sun with a break only at a brilliant blue sky. We – all 8 of us – were there which seemed almost sneaky – I didn’t even know you could go to Keji other than to swim, canoe and camp. We were at the playground | 77

80: by the lake where we squatted in the shelter – open sided with a wood stove. We lit the woodstove and on this very cold and glorious winter’s day we made that our home base for hot chocolate and hot dogs. This was a day of new things and discovery for sure and I remember the thrill of actually skiing on Keji Lake! I am certain that trepidation and fear may have been mingled with the excitement of swishing and gliding (maybe trudging) through the snow and snowdrifts. I remember the sun setting for eternity – every minute offering a new tapestry of purples, pinks and oranges. I remember huddling around the woodstove chatting and having hot chocolate. I remember being colder than cold in fingers and toes but deeply warm in the heart. This is how I remember this day, but I am sure that Terry could round out the facts from fantasy. But I choose to remember it this way – forever warming me to winter. | Sheila teaches her children to ski, (L) & Skate (below) (R) Skiing with Susan | 78

81: (L) Family Camp Out (R) Tenting with the boys. Canoe Trip | (R), Sheila at left with Uncle Gary, Aunt Marie & sisters | Hiking with Linda & Mom | Keji Memories

82: Sheila's Birthday Party, 1998 Christmas, 1980s | Christmas 2011 | Above & Left, Sailing with Geoff Day (R) Canoing with Luke & Caroline | 80

83: Anne is child number 6 in the order of offspring. She is also among the most accomplished of us all in many ways, but these are not her memoirs, so that long long list will have to wait. Anne's Story Keji Memories: All the time we were kids, teenagers, and on, Dad led us again and again to Keji. For him, camping and outdoors was a lifelong love. One of his proudest moments was the solo overnight | hike and camp out he did for Scouts when he was about 14. He packed his own pack, hiked out from his house through town and in the direction of the Port Mouton road, and selected his spot to pitch his camp. He recorded his trip and locations using orienteering methods in an official Scouts book. He still has that book in his room at the Manor. When we were kids going to Keji was a summertime thing. It meant swimming at Merrymakedge Beach, maybe, a hike of some sort, or a walk, and a picnic. Sometimes we would take the hibachi, charcoal, and wait, FOREVER, for it to heat up so we could have hamburgers or hot dogs, or we had sandwiches. The food was clearly the focus for me. The day would always start kind of late. Dad had the best intentions, but taking a day away from the inn in the summer was hard, and getting us going was a lot of work. Mom gathered towels, clothes, bathing suits, food and waited. and inevitably, we would head out by 2pm if we were doing well, arriving as others left. But still, on long summer days, we enjoyed the late afternoon and long evening on the quiet beach. We’d play in the picnic ground waiting for the hibachi to heat up, eating in the late summer dusk and driving home in the dark. | 81

84: I never camped at Keji with Dad. Paul, Terry and Joan have those stories. I recall a trip with Dad’s friend, Hugh Byrne, and the church choir. Hugh was, I think, in Scouts with Dad. They did share enthusiasm and respect for Keji. I recall years ahead of “green” carrying on, high teaching us about respecting the environment we were lucky enough to live in by not littering, As years passed we got more elaborate, including tying the Chestnut canoe on the car, or even better, the van, not my problem, I would just watch Dad and boys struggle with that. Lots of rope and time later, we did get that huge canoe back and forth. There were so many trips, or the few trips we took that blur into one summertime feeling. Canoing on the still river at Jake’s Landing, still dark water, blue sky, green banks, and leaves starting to turn: a picture in my memory of perfect peace. One time on a later trip we rented canoes; there were two or three canoes of Lanes following the many river channels we’d followed years before.

85: One Christmas when we were teenagers Dad got cross country skis for all of us. Or many. I don’t know where that idea came from, it seems a little incongruous that Dad always encouraged outdoor activity, he doesn’t seem the type maybe. But he did. He encouraged making the most of where we lived, being in and knowing our home, respecting its past, its nature, and doing things together. Perhaps high ideals to achieve with nine kids and a business, but Dad was not put off by a challenge. So we started on nearby roads with the skis, actually I started in the yard. It was not an impressive beginning, but we got good enough to head for Keji eventually. I think there were many trips, a different combination of family on each one. I honestly don’t know if I went more than once or twice, but it was magic: sparkling untouched snow, quiet Keji, beautiful winter streams, trees lacy with soft snow. The love for family activities, outdoors, and trying new things are all precious gifts that Dad gave us. | 83

86: With Doug in Toronto | Anne's wedding to Doug Jonah L to R Linda, Anne, Susan, Sheila & Dad, July, 1989 | Above, Anne with Mom and Dad, her Grad 1987 | 84

87: (L) Doug, Anne, Dad, Mom (hidden) & Terry at Dublin House Restaurant. Early 1980s | Anne speaking at CB University | Dancing with Dad New Years Eve 2013 (L) | At Louisbourg with Dad and Susan 2011 | 85

88: Paul is the fourth child in our family of nine and was born when Dad was stationed in Whitehorse. He has some very good memories of growing up in our family and some that probably should remain out of print. Paul has inherited his father's gift of story-telling, and his sensitivity. Somewhere he also picked up a very vivid imagination as well as a dry and somewhat outlandish sense of humour. Paul's Memories Once Terry and I decided we wanted to camp for a week in kedge. We (I) passed on a wilderness site (we got there after dark and it was too friggin scary) and Dad took us to the main camp ground with not a word of reproach. After a few days Terry and I were suffering from poor meal packing and preparation. One evening Mom and Dad showed up. Dad cooked steaks on the fire. It was the best meal I ever had. One day, when I was in kindergarten, I walked home and found the house locked and empty. I think Mom may have be delivering a baby or something. Anyway I freaked out. I sat in the front porch and thought I was done for. Dad showed up (maybe minutes later). I went to say something but had a lump in my throat and could only cry. Dad squatted down and kinda laughed/smiled and picked me up and gave me a hug. Instantly I felt safe and happy....Dad was always my Dad.....always there. | 86

89: Tenting with Terry At Keji | I only include this story because I have heard Dad tell it and laugh. When Dad was Lions District Governor he took me on a trip to Cape Breton. As DG he had to visit all the clubs in his district. We stopped in Port Hawkesbury and he left me in the van in the Sobeys parking lot for what he thought would be an hour or so. The meeting dragged on much longer...much much longer. When he finally walked back across the parking lot to the van he could hear his teenage son screaming obscenities.(In such a state, I believed I referred to Dad as a baldheaded so and so etc etc...very loud and foul was that rant).When Dad opened the van door the tirade immediately stopped. Dad asked me how I made out and I calmly and quietly replied 'fine'. We drove back to the hotel in relative silence. In 1993 I was 32. I quit my job in HFX and asked Dad if I could move home. He said you are always welcome here...and I was. | Camping at Keji with Dad ...a different time (R) | (L) The trip Paul refers to. He, Terry and Mom wait for delicious steaks | 87

90: Paul & Terry reading hieroglyphics (Below) | (R) Walking the beaches near the Canso Strait | Tenting with Terry At Keji | The early years at Fort Point | Left Snow Fun! Right, Canoe Trip Keji | 88

91: 89

92: Cathy is the eldest of our nine and was born in Germany while Dad was stationed there. Her earliest memories center in Whitehorse, where she attended school until grade one. It was here, also that Dad became active with school boards, politics and written media. Cathy I always seem to remember Dad at Christmas when I was very young. He was only a kid himself of course, but he was more into Christmas than we were, I think! I still have a really clear memory of a doll in a little blue trunk, probably because Dad woke us in the middle of the night to open our presents because he had the Christmas morning shift and didn't want to miss the present opening. I think there were a few photos of stupified children staring at our presents. He was also a big fan of heading off into the woods to cut down a tree for Christmas. I remember wading through snow once and being very cold. I don't know if that's the year it was so cold a tree split from top to bottom when he hit it with his axe. Anyhow, we were in Liverpool for years before he could reconcile to buying a tree from a lot. | (L) Frozen North (R) "Santa Train" 1961 | 90

93: Christmas 1959 | (L) Lanes 50th With Sheila 2012 And (R) at Pine Grove Park 2013 | Silly Santa (above) & At Cathy's Graduation 1984 | 91

94: Susan is child number seven and in many ways, most like our father. They have shared a unique and close relationship down through the years. Susan has likewise contributed a great deal to this community in which she lives, works and plays. I think we are all very proud of "our" Susan. Susan Speaks When I was in grade 12 taking Modern World Problems (was that the name of the subject?) We were asked to write an essay based on the Time magazine's Man of the Year and who we thought deserved to be named Man of the Year in 1983. Well, I wrote about Dad and titled it "An Inside View of Daddy-Poo". It was my statement that I was not impressed with any of our world leaders or newsmakers and felt that my Dad had contributed more to the betterment of our local community than any of these so called world leaders had contributed to the world. I also made reference that he emulated a world leader. He was starting to grow his now iconic beard and it looked pretty scruffy. I suggested that if he wore a tablecloth from Pizza Hut on his head that he would look like Yasser Arafat. My teacher was so impressed that he gave me an A+++ on the paper and asked to keep it so that he could show students that world leaders start at home and the betterment of your own community means that you are making a contribution to a better world. | 92

95: Above, a family favourite, The "wiener shot" Below, Uncle Dick (Dumais) Dad, Mom & Susan | Mom's Birthday, 2008 | Dad and Susan as "The Ultraviolents " Halloween 2011 (Below) | Susan & Dad, Wedding Photo | (R) Linda, Anne & Susan N.B. 1970's | Grad 1984 | 93

96: Susan: Here's another. For March break 1981 Dad took me ( Susan), Anne Marie, Sheila, Linda and Paul to Toronto as he had a National School Board Conference. We had a great time in TO, but Dad felt after a couple of days it was time to move on. I was quite John Lennon obsessed at that time, heightened by the fact that he had been shot only a few months prior. I really wanted to go to NYC and see the Dakota and see Broadway. It was my destiny...right? So, Dad, being the amazing Dad that he is, headed for NYC with no agenda and no plans for a hotel. We arrived on St. Patrick's day (his favourite holiday) and got stuck in the parade on 5th Ave. We then got lost in Harlem (which terrified us as we thought we would all die...sillies). We then ended up at the Empire Hotel on Broadway and Columbus right across the street from the Metropolitan Opera. We was some Jesus happy. We went to the saloon downstairs and Dad had green beer. We explored and Dad got in many arguments with servers over advertised prices (one notable was all the beer you could drink with the pizza feature) apparently the manager did not take into consideration the likes of Ron and Paul Lane. The waiter said that they drank too many beer to qualify. (Whatever that meant) Anyway, who would argue with someone who drank too much on an all you can drink beer special. The guy at the next table kept repeating " Uh-oh Spaghetti-os" over and over. Mom and Dad were so trusting and let us go off and wander the city (a bunch of Lane teenagers take on Manhattan!) We have never felt cooler or more in control...until the restaurant bills arrived at the table and they were more money than we had. Whoops. We saw our first Broadway shows...Annie and Evita. We got a great taste of the Big Apple that has made us all want to go back for more. | Susan attended the AMDA in New York. Her credits include a vast array of successful plays at the Astor Theater in Liverpool. Her Dad and Mom would attend every showing of every play. | Susan can count herself among the many who have not seen Broadway dreams come true, BUT she has brought those dreams to fruition in Liverpool at the Astor Theater and, like Dad before her has made a huge difference in her little corner of the world. | 94

97: Susan attended the AMDA in New York. Her credits include a vast array of successful plays at the Astor Theater in Liverpool. Dad and Mom would attend every showing of every play. | 95

98: Susan can count herself among the many who have not seen Broadway dreams come true, BUT she has brought those dreams to fruition in Liverpool at the Astor Theater and, like Dad before her has made a huge difference in her little corner of the world. | NYC Glamor, in Liverpool, NS St Paddy's Day Tradition | Walking with Dad along favourite paths. | Cooking Class at Louisburg | 96

99: Robbie Burns Feast 2013 | Susan a la Libby Broadbent | Making Wine from Scratch | (L) Cooking up Thanksgiving | (Above) Ever the Actress! | With Sheila, Sailing into the Sunset | Halloween Hijinx | 97

100: There is another side to the management team at Lanes, one hidden often behind the scenes and in the shadows. My brother, Terry, who prefers to avoid the limelight entirely, has been an anchor and a support to the family since his earliest days. His quiet strength and impeccable logic have also kept my father's business from the dark side more than once and in so many ways, I am quite sure. Terry is the fifth child in our large brood; the second of only two sons. He shared a close relationship with Paul. Terry | If I did have a memory like Terry has a memory, I could just write down one of the many tales he has related over the years. With his very keen capacity for retaining facts, our number two brother has been, irrefutably the best family historian in all of history. He also has a knack for telling those stories which can bring a hush over even our often very vocal family. He has helped fill the blanks in many of the tales related here. In fact, if one of us does have a recollection of an event, he can consistently clarify it and straighten out the details where they may be a bit foggy. He is also responsible for preserving and cataloging many of the photos used in this book. So, singling out one particular story from his infinite repertoire is probably too daunting a task for him and a bit too difficult for me. Terry has disappeared into the woodwork. | 98

101: I know, with regard to our father, Terry has enjoyed many father-son activities and has remained an invaluable support to both Mom and Dad in their final years. Terry and Dad just enjoyed horsing around and canoing and camping and all those fun Keji adventures. There were trips, outings and dinners and skiing. They could compete at games like Trivial Pursuit and Jeopardy. When Dad struggled with his business, he called on Terry as well as Susan to help him set things straight. Terry has been working on that ever since...whatever year that was. Back in the nineties, I think. Terry would know. | 99

102: Below, on Lake Rossignol | (L) 1970's High School Hair Do | (L) Keji Camping with Dad | and Hiking | 100

103: Clockwise, Terry & Max, Terry with more young Nephews, (L) Grad Mt A (R) Pensive at 50, Lower right-Christmas with Paul Lower Left-Preparing a Freworks Display | 101

104: Late Breaking. A Story from Terry! Terry has told me a story of the time Dad blew up his pants. Dad had been working on the roof at the inn, as usual, dressed in new pants and dress shoes. Of course he managed to get tar on the pants and felt the best way to remove it would be with gasoline. This was not something he wanted to try in our mother’s presence or in her washing machine either. There would be words... So, Dad ‘pretreated’ his pants with gasoline and shoved them into the industrial machine in the basement. Upstairs, staff casually went about their business. Terry was in the office when the building was shook by a “boom”. Stunned personnel looked at one another, trying to deduce what had caused it. Eventually, Dad came up the basement stairs looking a bit sheepish and disheveled. His comb-over was singed and his eyebrows missing. “Did you hear that explosion”, he said. The bewildered onlookers nodded in affirmation. Indeed, they had! “That was me,” he muttered, quite visibly shaken. “I blew up my pants.” Apparently, when the washing machine had finished its cycle, he lifted the lid and the accumulation of gases ignited. The rest, as they say, is history. | Terry has been instrumental in preserving icons and snippets of our family's history, one of which was the old "Chestnut" canoe. Pictured right is Terry on it's 1st voyage, post restoration over a scene from it's earlier incarnation. | 102

105: 103

106: Debbie is the third among us and my closest sibling, as we were raised basically as twins. I can't remember a time when she was not there and am very glad for that. She has a "no nonsense" approach to life and, like our father, will stand her ground against the world, if need be. I think our relationship growing up was very like that between our father and his sister (our Aunt) Rosemary. Debbie | With beloved "Teddy" | Whitehorse 1960 | (R) Fort Point Christmas, 1972 | A Favourite Toy, Below | (L) When we lived in trees | 104

107: 4 Generations (Baby, Brian Lingley) | At Dad's Graduation, 2012 (Below) | (Left) On one of countless hikes with Dad, Thomas Raddall Park | With David Lingley Wedding, 1978 | Above, With Dad & Justin,1985 Mayoral Election | Lotsa Good Times & Good Eats at The Lingleys' House! | Father of The Bride | 105

108: Debbie is unable to contribute right now, so I will relate one of my favourite memories of Debbie and Dad. Debbie loved those shiny, but very slippery, dance or party shoes when she was growing up. She also loved dressing up and singing in her sweet little girl voice. At this time, Dad must have had some involvement with the school boards, because he volunteered Debbie as a flower girl for the high school maypole dance. He drove her to many rehearsals and stayed there with her. In these days, high school students seemed larger than life and somewhat intimidating to our shy little person selves. On the evening of the dance, Debbie performed her bit very well, but when she finished and was about to exit the stage, her shoes slipped out from under her and she toppled down the stairs and into Dad’s outstretched arms. I believe, to her embarrassment, this was quite a public source of amusement and was even reported along with a story on the event in our local paper, The Advance. Debbie remembers how Dad was always there to drive us to our many extra-curricular activities when we were youngsters. Often this would be if it was too cold or wet or dark for us to be out wandering. Into our teens and even adulthood, Dad would drop almost anything to chauffeur us whenever or wherever we might need him. It was comforting to know he was there for us, no matter what. | With Dad (wearing her new dance shoes) Before May Dance. | 106

109: Linda is the youngest of nine. How she survived us all, I'll never know! She would tag along with a group of us, often attached to someone by the hand. She struggled for any kind of attention, but certainly was not meek. Like us all, she was very protective of our mother and respectful of our father, with the exception maybe of the teen years. Linda has also settled in Liverpool and continues the tradition of keeping "Lanes of Liverpool" all in the family. Linda Linda's story is well known in our family circle, and oft repeated: Dad was speaking at a UNESCO convention in Geneva, Switzerland in his capacity as president of the Canadian School Trustees Assn. in 1984. He also brought Mom and his three teenage daughters, namely Susan, Sheila and Linda along for the experience. When the work was done, he rented a car with the intent of crossing the Alps and venturing southward to Nice in France. They had to open the hotel more or less as it was off season, Linda remembers. They were the only guests and the proprietors couldn't believe they’d driven over the mountain. It was a sweet little Swiss ski town with great little windy roads and wonderful little stores and churches . The next day we were on a beach on the French Riviera and tanning our faces and eating outdoors. Also we tried to get into casino but we were underage. | 107

110: Susan adds: I thought that we were in the south of France and then hit the Alps and ended up in Turin, Italy the next day. When we returned to France Dad insisted that we travel through the Mont Blanc tunnel, which was his initial plan but Mom was claustrophobic at the idea. She was ok with it on the return. It beat dangling off of a mountain in the Alps. My most vivid memory, Susan says, was that the roads were indeed windy and narrow and we had climbed so high that we came to a tunnel which had been closed because of an avalanche. The detour pointed to a cobblestone road held up by log braces and no guard rail that straddled the exterior of the tunnel. We believe that those roads were built by Hannibal. Rather than go back...because we had come so far...We thought, surely we would start a decent soon, but no. Dad went out on this crumbling road that hung off of the side of a cliff. The passengers began to panic and Dad continued white knuckled along this terrible excuse for a road. When I looked out the passenger window it reminded me of a Road Runner cartoon....just endless mountains and valleys in which to plunge a car into. I was sure that we would not survive. Dad said that we would be fine as long as no vehicle were to come in the other direction. The words were hanging in the air when there it was...a truck coming in the other direction. We all screamed hysterically...all but Dad. The driver sensed our hysteria and obliged to back up until he could let us go by. This went on forever it seemed. Sheila was so upset that we teased her awfully, only to relieve our sense of doom. The truck managed to creep up an embankment and we could squeeze by him. He waved us on frantically as his brakes started to give. He went flying off around the corner...we don't know if he survived. | 108

111: We kept heading into snow and more snow and then at the peak...a deserted village of some sort. No one survives up here. We were pretty inconsolable by this point. Dad kept trucking onward in our little, rented Peugeot station wagon with bald summer tires. What if we run out of gas?? We have no food or water!!! All of these cries from the backseat did not disway Dad from his goal....to get us off this mountain. Finally, we did start to descend and the snow melted and the road was normal and then....a village!!! Smoke coming out of chimney and little goats in pens...people!!!! We cheered and screamed and when the car stopped in front of a ski chalet we jumped out of the car and ran around like a bunch of lunatics. That's when a bewildered couple came out to greet us and couldn't imagine how earth we had come from down the mountain. " The roads are closed. How did you get here?? " “Dad took a detour" was our answer. Later that evening, another couple showed up. The innkeepers could not imagine another car had come over the mountain. The Dad yells "Bob!!!" It was a colleague from the UNESCO conference that he had met. They had taken the same ill fated route. The reason for this crazy detour was that we were traveling from Monaco to Turin Italy and the plan was to take the tunnel to and fro...Mom had other plans and the rest is history. From Wikipedia: The Mont Blanc Tunnel is a road tunnel in the Alps under the Mont Blanc mountain, linking France Italy. It is one of the major trans-Alpine transport routes, particularly for Italy, which relies on the tunnel for transporting as much as one-third of its freight to northern Europe. It reduces the route from France to Turin by 50 kilometres (31 mi) and to Milan by 100 kilometres (62 mi). It can also save your life. | 109

112: (L) Dad and Mom in Monaco (perhaps) | (R) Sheila with Mom and Dad, Bern Switzerland 1984 | Mom with Sheila, Lake Geneva | But, wait! This was Linda's Story. Ah, well. As the youngest in our brood, she is likely used to being upstaged. She also picked the most popular and oft told tale. | 110

113: Linda at 2 (L) | (L)With Dad and Grandmother, Helen Clow Lane | Greenfield Scout Camp 1976 | Little Linda on the trail | 111 | A touching father-daughter 'moment' | Kindergarten Photo (R)

114: Top, Linda tries out Dad's Red Rider BB Gun for size, | 112 | New Years Early 90s | (R) With Cris Hanley, 1994 | Lily aspires to greatness ;) | Dinner At Susan's

115: 113 | A Summerville Beach Walk With Dad | Proud Mom and Grandad as Lily receives a Music Festival Award at the Astor Theater

116: Grandchildren

117: Many of Dad's offspring also, at this point, have adult or nearly adult children. Great-grandchildren can't be far off. Those of us so blessed have been very fortunate for the support of loving grandparents plus aunts, uncles and cousins in their midst. What Dad has given all of us is a large and supportive family network. His values seem rare in a world where so many people feel disconnected, despite the advent of technology and our internet addictions. Anyone who has been to Lanes' knows the warmth of family and true belonging. There are many "honorary Lanes" to be sure! That is our father's legacy. We look out for one another. I'm very happy and fortunate to see this tradition continue down through the generations. I think Dad would be proud.

118: Brian is 1st son of Debbie & David Lingley and 1st member of Generation 4, through Dad's line, at least. Brian and Dad have always shared a special relationship. I think this may be due to the fact that they both very much love Liverpool. Brian remembers Dad best in his years as Mayor and in his participation with the Christmas Telethon on Able Cable. In the early 1990's Brian had his own show on local cable which basically celebrated all things Liverpool. Dad would often be a guest host for the telethon and usually auctioned off something personal like a beard shaving or a dip in the dunking pool for charitable purposes. There were people who would pay money to see that. | Brian Lingley B. June 13, 1978 | Debbie's Family | At Anne's Wedding with Grandma 1989 | Age 10, above & Age 12 (R) | 116

119: Above, Age 16 | Married to Aki, Sept 16, 2007 | Casey & Brian's Half an Hour Show 1995 | (L) With a glass of 'Ron's Famous Eggnog' | (R) Brian with Aki , NS visit 2013 | Grad 1996 | Above, as Enos Collins to Dad's Capt Barss. 2013 | 117

120: Brian's Memory of Grandad There are so many memories that I recall fondly of Grandad. But if I had to share just one, it would be a specific night of the Community Christmas Telethon. Mom, Dad and I were heading over to have supper with Ron, Carol and whichever aunts/uncles were living there in the mid to late 1980s (most of them). I think I was young enough that we still lived in the prefabs. It was a few weeks before Christmas and that night the annual Able Cable Christmas Telethon was on throughout the entire day and so of course, that was required viewing. A year previous we'd watched Grandad get his beard shaved off at home so that was something of a novelty, to me especially. On the drive over to 23 Court St. I asked Mom and Dad if Grandad was going to get shaved on television that night. The response was something like, "that doesn't happen every year." After supper there were a few pledges during the broadcast to shave Grandad, who, post meal, had slipped into a food coma on the ol' recliner in the far corner. The frequent mention of his name on TV generated some giggles and cackling from those in the room, and more so as he occasionally glanced up from his slumber to see what we were on about. "Buddy Whynot from Tupper Rd. pledges $10 to see Ron Lane get his beard shaved. You hear that, Mayor Lane? The pledges are coming in." Around 8 o'clock or so someone from Able Cable called to ask if Grandad had interest in honoring the pledges that were racking up. | 118

121: Of course he wearily obliged and pulled his overcoat and hat on for the short jaunt two streets over to get shaven as part of community fundraising, the entourage in the living room teasing him about it. However I recall he was pretty cheerful about it as he left, asking Grandma if she wanted to kiss his beard goodbye for another year. I'm sure he preferred the shave to the water dunk... maybe that's why he kept growing a beard back every year? Mom and Dad wanted very much to get back to 7 Riverview Road before it got too late, but I was intractable about lingering there long enough to see Grandad get shaved live on the telethon again! | (Below) "Grandad " in costume outside Able Cable 1993 | Several members of the Lane and Algee clans share a dinner at "The Motel", as we called it in the early 1980's . A young Brian Lingley is seated front right and his Dad, David Lingley is front and Left. | 119

122: Max Lingley, B. Sept 14, 1988 | Max may have inherited the 'silly gene' | Max and Maggie were inseparable in their early years. | Above,Max's Grad NSCC 2008 | Grandad, Max & Grandma St. Patrick's Day 1990 | Lingleys | 120

123: Above with Grandad, Christmas 1990 | (R) Maggie shows her work at ADJA Gallery 2008 | Maggie's Grad St. Mary's 2013 | Maggie Lingley, B. Aug 6, 1990 | Grandad watches intently as Max & Maggie play. 1993 | (Below) Ponhook Lake, ~2010 | Two | 121 | At Keji, 1995

124: Justin Yarn B. May 23, 1985 | Joan's Boys | (L) and Above, Justin with Grandad at age 1 Below, Grad 2003 | (L) With Genevieve Skelton, Spain 2013 | Below, The Proposal Jan 2014 | Age 5 | 122

125: Daron Yarn B. Feb 22, 1990 | Daron's Passion | Daron with mom, above at Grad 2008 (R) With Hailey Sacree | At age 1, above With Grandad in Panhook (R) | 123 | Brothers, 1992

126: Luke Van Horne B. Jan 17, 1994 | Sheila's Sons | (R) The Two Grads 2012: Luke & Grandad Below, Sheila & Luke White Point2013 | Above, a shared moment | Above, Quiet Time Below, Luke & Neil Musical Brothers | 124

127: Granddad I have many fond memories of visiting Grandma and Granddad throughout my childhood. I was always excited to go there and they were always happy to see me. One of my earliest memories is of the computer Granddad used to have. The screensaver for the computer was an ocean with all kinds of exotic and colourful fishes swimming by, and I was always strangely fascinated by it. Granddad would often show it to me, but he was also careful not to let me play with his computer, since I was very young. I remember many a Sunday morning spent in Liverpool where we would all hop into Grandma and Granddads car and go to church. It seemed like they would have a new car almost every time we saw them. One time Granddad gave me a camping pot and pan he had used to go camping by himself when he was a boy. He gave it to me because I was in boy scouts. | At right, a family hike on the Old Port Mouton Rd, to recreate the hike Dad mentions in his memory of his scouting days. | 125

128: Neil Van Horne B. Sept 11, 1995 | Neil's earliest years were peppered with many visits to Liverpool to see the grandparents, lots of extended family time and bonding with his brother, Luke, less than 2 years his senior. | 126

129: Grad ,Lockview HS, 2013 | (L) Medal, Provincial Swimming Comp 2012 | (L) Neil, w Mom Sheila & Grandad, Ron. | (L) As MC at HS Tribute Concert Far left, Scuba in Cuba | (R) Brothers, sharing a lifelong love of The Beach | 127

130: Malcolm Jonah Nov 23, 1995 | BC 1997 | 1997 | Below, at 4 | Above, at Citadel with Caroline | Some before Dinner chat with Grandad & Grandma | 1997 | 'The Wizard' | Anne Marie's | 128

131: Above, In Quebec with Caroline Below, France 2013 | With his Grandad and Mom 2011 Sailing with Luke | Age 8 | In Costume, Louisburg | Age 13 | Family | 129

132: Caroline Jonah, B. May 4, 1999 | (L) Age 9 | (L) With Malcolm 2002 | (R) Age 14 | Grandma Love | In Costume Louisburg | Age 2 | At Cadden Bay, Age 4 | 130

133: (R) With Lily 2011 | (L) France 2013 (R) May Babies 2012 | (L) Walking with Grandad, Privateer Parade 2012 | Below, with Lily at her Grandad's Celebrated High School Grad, 2012 | 131

134: Lilith Lane Dec 28, 1997 | Linda's Lily | Clockwise, from top, many adorable pictures of Lily. (R) Lily & Grandad, NYE 2008 | 132

135: (Below) Showing Flower Art, Rossignol Center | Privateer Parade 2012 (below) Lily & Caroline Left Brian, then Grandad seated, Right | (L) with Caroline | Rocking the Lobster Scene | 2012 Louisburg | 133

136: (L) Represents a fun day at Beach Meadows where a spontaneous game of soccer broke out. (R) A reunion of cousins 1996 | (R) Energized Grandkids after family attended performance of Cirque du Soleil | Below, there were many cheery greetings & tearful goodbyes at the Hfx Airport | (L) Caroline, Dad & Lily, Shelburne

137: Top and Left, The next generation of beach lovers Below, The family at Upper Clements Park | Dad's 70th Birthday gift from family was a bicycle...which was to be very well used for the next decade. | 2001 | 135

138: G r a d u a t i o n | Back, ( Left to right) Malcolm, Neil, Cathy, Caroline, Anne Marie, Seated are Linda, Lily, Maggie and Debbie.

139: 2 0 1 2 | Brian, Dad, Terry, Sheila, Luke, Geoff, Susan, David.

141: Dad & Mom Through The Years | Dad and Mom shared a union, a lifetime and a love story of epic proportions. It may not have been perfect...what in this life is? However it was enduring and endearing and truly romantic. They loved each other through thick and (a lot of) thin. I hope the following pictures can adequately tell this tale, because truly it is the stuff of dreams.

142: (Above) Dinner Date 1954 (L) At a Tourism Convention 1970s | At Home (23 Court St.) in the '70s (R) | (L) On their honeymoon 1954 | 138

143: (L) With Baby Malcolm, 1995 (R) At Anne & Doug's Wedding | (R) Dad & Mom in Monaco 1984 Below Lane Siblings & Spouses | Below at a Perkins 'Tea On The Lawn' 1994 | 139

144: (L) Dinner Theater Roles, 1990's (R) NYE, 1990's | (L) 40th Anniversary, June 12, 1994 (R) Xmas Staff Party, '94 | Aboard Dick's Plane | 140

145: (L) 40th Anniversary visit to Wedding Church & (R) 50th Anniversary Re Affirmation of Vows at the same church | (R) A walk in the Park, 2000's | Church at Ferguson'sCove | (R) Summerville Beach | Above, at Sheila's Birthday Party in Upper Clements Park | 141

146: And So this is Christmas | Christmas has always been an important time in our family. It's not just a day or a season. It's a spirit and a feeling and a celebration that lasts year round. It is particularly at Christmas that we appreciate what we have and those around us and sorely miss those who are not. As I come near the end of my father's story, I want to share that feeling that was Christmas in our household and will always be a part of us. | (L) Lanes at Christmas, 1945 and above in 1951. In both Dad is at left, Bettyann is the youngest and parents, Eddie & Helen are seated. Ed & Rosemary are center. | 142

147: Top Left, Mom & Cathy 1955 Germany Above, Dad (Center) at Base party in Baden Solingen, Germany. | (L) Dad, clad in a diaper beard and child's cap doles out gifts to sleepy children (R) | (R) Cathy, 1957 | 143

148: Christmas in the 1970's was for us, a time of magic and wonder , of togetherness and the best food you can possibly imagine. Here are a few scenes from about that time at 23 Court St. | 144

149: For many years there were very popular events over the Christmas season at the Inn. In addition to the multitudes of family dinners, there were the staff parties, which were legendary. There was , for example, the year Dad did his Santa strip tease, flinging his rented Santa suit into his captive audience. There was singing and dancing which usually went on well into the night. Sometimes staff would partake. | 145 | Picture here any of a number of photos of cavorting staff members from over the years for which I could be sued for displaying.

150: Terry (L) & Sheila (R) | Caroline above & Malcolm (R) | Lily | Lily & Caroline (R) '92 | A Lingley Christmas 2013 (above) | Dad, Mom & Max 1990 | 146

151: Dad demonstrates some well honed skills in Turkey Carving (R) & (Below) Another Wonderful Dinner at Susan's 2011 | Sheila & Susan Hamming it up at Lanes (L) Christmas at Susan's 2012 (R)

153: Enjoy this fantastic homemade eggnog during your holiday celebrations this year – we guarantee you’ll love it! Ingredients 6 eggs (separated) 4 cups heavy cream 2 cups milk 1 cup white sugar pinch of salt Rum (to taste) Directions 1.Put egg yolks in large bowl and whisk until light and fluffy. Slowly whisk in sugar. 2.Stir in cream and milk. 3.Put in fridge to chill for several hours. 4.Just before serving, whip egg whites with a pinch of salt until peaks form. 5.Add rum (to taste) to yolk and cream mixture. Fold in egg whites. 6.Serve chilled – Happy Holidays! | Ron's Famous Christmas EggNog

154: Our Hometown hero | My dad taught me to be brave. Not by doing amazing feats of strength or extreme sports but by doing things that opened him up to public scrutiny. He did this by doing things that he might fail at...by doing just for doing. Well, that is a good lesson for any self conscious kid. I have memories of more than one 5 mile walk around the Mersey River in the Privateer Days Bridge Race, with the ambulance following him or him and Bettyann right to the very end. I recall Bob Mitchell, who did the water stop on these runs in Milton, being told there was still one “runner” to come so he would go inside and continue to peek out for the last runner who was none other than Ron Lane. We all reminisce about the famous log rolling competition, an old event in Privateer Days, where Dad competed and won in his leather dress shoes. He kept falling in the river, he kept getting back up. He won already by nature of being the only entry and yet he kept on trying to stay up. One time, he was asked by the Queens County Liberals to run as the candidate for the Liberal leader and he did, perhaps knowing all his friends planned to back the other candidate but knowing a good competition was good for the party in the public view. I remember being hurt and mad when he was not elected and he was absolutely fine with it. Perhaps his bravest move was to run as town counselor in his senior years, not long at all after our mother had died. He knocked on every door in the constituency and gave it his best shot, well after many would have put their feet up. This he did even after he had already been mayor for several years. Dad is brave. He is good natured. He does simply to do. He cares with genuine heart. He acts from a place of compassion even if loss is inevitable. What more do I need to know in life? Sheila Lane | 150

155: It would seem our father's greatest lesson was not an original one: "It's not whether you win or lose, but how you play the game." Well played, Dad! | 151

156: 'Mr. Parade' | The Last Mayor of Liverpool, with his Councilors, Circa 1994 | Dad, born to be wild...just a little. (L) (R) With Richard Vienot, Lions, through and through | Dad's Badge & Chain of Office were retired to the Queens Co. Museum. | (L) 1970 & (R) in 2006 | "Mister cool, on a break from Lions Charter Night. Life written on a purple and gold vest, down to patches sewn on by Mom, I love it." _Susan | 152

157: (R) With Classmates at his Grad in 2012 - AFTER serving 17 Yrs on every level of School Board and The Canadian Assn of School Trustees | Above, 80th Birthday Celebration | 'You're never too old to learn'. Dad took a course in 17th Century Cookery with Susan at Louisburg in 2011 | Well done, Dad! AND Well played!!! | In 2011-12, Dad met the Requirements for his High School Diploma (at long last) by "Making Words From Memories."

158: List of Accomplishments President of the Nova Scotia School Boards Association And President of The Canadian School Boards Association President of The South Queens Chamber of Commerce, President of The South Shore Associated Boards of Trade And Director of the Atlantic Provinces Chamber of Commerce Mayor of Liverpool President of the Tourism Industry Association of Nova Scotia And recipient of the Lifetime Achievement Award District Governor of Lions International for District Twenty Five Years with Voluntary Planning, Nova Scotia Fifty years at Lanes & Fabulous Family Man | Paul, being really proud. TIANS Lifetime Acheivement Presentation 2001 I think we all feel that way! | 154

159: Thank you, Dad for being who you are. Thank you to my brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews and especially Pam, who bore with me, contributed much and helped me through the compilation of this work. | "And, in conclusion..." | At the TIANS Banquet in 2001 which honored Dad, his speech followed a very impressive slideshow depicting his many accomplishments. He began that speech with the words, "Now I know how it feels to have your life flash before your eyes." After the months spent on this project I can honestly say the same thing. I have seen Dad's life flash before my eyes. It's been an amazing, enlightening and humbling experience. I hope to share the pride and love I feel for my Dad , to pay him homage and to celebrate his life before he passes to a better one. Sadly , for us, that day is not far off. | In Gratitude | 155

160: Before Dad met Mom, he put in for transfer at his outfit with the RAF. Time went by, the request was forgotten and love happened. Then a consignment to Baden Solingen was issued. Not wanting to be parted from the love of his life, Dad quickly proposed and was wed to our mother. When Dad married Mom back in 1954 he literally went AWOL. To get the time off from his duties as a radio operator, he had a fellow recruit cover for him. Unbeknown to Dad, the young man had an emergency of his own. Dad's shift went uncovered and his commanding officers scoured the province for his whereabouts. His father sent an emergency police message over the radio in Cape Breton and the honeymoon was cut short. Dad shipped out to Germany and Mom followed months later aboard the Queen Mary. She had never left the province in her life and now she was traveling the world alone. The years went by and their relationship endured. Dad wooed Mom at every opportunity throughout. There were the roses (which Mom adored) for any occasion or just because. There were fanciful voyages and romantic dinners. Never once did we, as children feel the insecurity that a stormy relationship can foster. We were lucky that way...and so were our parents. Mom passed away in 2009 after a courageous battle with a debilitating illness. Somehow, Dad has persevered though we thought he might be destroyed. He has braved on through grief and his own illness. Mom's ashes await his, a symbol of their souls rejoining. Their love will continue through the generations in our hearts and in our memories. It truly is a beautiful thing. | Love Endures | Godspeed! | 156

162: Ron Lane Lineage Chart | Family

163: Branching Out TheNext TwoGenerations | (Like branches on a tree, we all grow in different directions... yet our roots remain as one.) | TREE

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  • By: Joan L.
  • Joined: almost 6 years ago
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About This Mixbook

  • Title: A Lifetime of Memories Polished By The Passing of Time (Copy 3)
  • Stories for My Children: I have been a story teller for a long time and my kids have often encouraged me to put it down on paper. They are very pleased to see me get a start on this story for better or for worse. I have a lot to tell. I have just a word of caution though. I am seventy eight years old and I have Parkinson’s. These factors should allow me to embellish, to steal someone else’s events or to distort. ‘Nuff’ said!
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  • Published: over 5 years ago