Oxford Street

   It seems as though I have been driving down Oxford Street my whole life. I got my driver's licence round about '71 and my Oxford Street history commenced then. Prior to '71, we grocery shopped at the Loblaws(?) at the Oakridge Plaza at Hyde Park and Oxford. I remember this mainly because I'd moved here from Vancouver in '64 and never in my life had I experienced humidity like they have here in London. The Loblaws store was also the first place I'd ever experienced air conditioning and it was such a wonderful place to be! We also made occasional forays along Oxford to get to the Twilite Drive-In at Highway 22 and Hyde Park.
   At this point I should probably mention that, at the time, I was living and growing up in Oakridge Acres. I attended Hutton Road Public School, corner of Hutton Road (now Wonderland) and Oxford and then Oakridge Secondary, on Oxford near Hyde Park.
   So it seems as though my early life was intrinsically tied to Oxford, and the closely surrounding area. In the sixties, there was a very rural feel to the whole area. Hutton Road School actually bordered a farm and I can remember one day when a bunch of us gathered by the school fence so we could watch a calf being born. Doesn't get too much more rural than that!
   Progress, however, well... progressed. Farms were torn down for firehalls and housing, malls were built, and highrises went up. All the people living in, working at or shopping in these places travelled along Oxford to get there and I soon joined them!
   Shortly after getting my licence, I occasionally was allowed to drive our second car to and from high school. I'd pick up my friend Bob from around the corner and off we would go. At the time, we had some kind of car that used what my Dad referred to as "vacuum wipers". Don't know if this was the actual term for them and for sure don't understand the technology behind them but the end result was that when you sped up, the wipers slowed down!
   Because of this, I distinctly remember one very rainy morning when Bob and I were attempting to negotiate the hill on Oxford just east of the high school. It was a downpour and we found we more or less had to gun it to get up the hill. Well, the more we gunned it the slower the wipers got! As a matter of fact, before we reached the apex of the hill they stopped! Much nervous laughter between two neophyte high school drivers ensued (along with some cussing...). To this very day, I find myself remembering this just about every single time I drive up that same hill.
   Eventually, as progress progressed, Oxford (in the Oakridge area anyway) turned from one lane to two, speeds increased, etc. and it became much more of a thoroughfare. My old public school was sold and eventually demolished, its bricks became a tiny little strip mall and its playground became a Gulf station. All, of course, at the corner of Oxford and Wonderland. And I, of course, ended up working at the Gulf station, watching Oxford pass me by every day.
   My first apartment was kitty-corner to that wonderful air-conditioned Loblaws and I took the bus down Oxford to get to the gas station(I washed cars there). This led to other stuff, different jobs, strange romances, a wonderful woman, wonderful kids, a home in a totally different part of the city, another wonderful woman and more wonderful kids and now I travel down Oxford street every day of my life.
   Pretty well every day of my life for almost 20 years now. And along the way there are familiar faces. I only know bits and pieces about most of them and about some of them I know almost nothing. If you travel Oxford Street at all on any kind of regular basis you may(almost assuredly) have passed by them. You may even have noticed them.
   There is a woman. She lives in a building reserved mainly for people with psychiatric issues. I noticed her the first time about almost ten years ago. She smokes and is nervous. Her hair used to be straight and jet black. It is almost white now.
   There is a man, standing by the side of the street, watching the traffic. His mouth moves, his hands wave and he plays with things. He's had cancer but you wouldn't know it. He'll talk yo you. Unless he knows you.
   She has a walker and crosses the street slowly. If the sidewalk is impassable, she will walk down the roadway and there will be almost no room for cars to pass safely.
   He propels his wheelchair with his feet, not his hands. He's looking to remove any little bit of garbage he can find, mostly because he has to. One hand is almost useless and he'd like a doctor to cut it off but the doctor won't.
   There is a man on an island. I understand(co-incidentally)that his name is Brian. He drags one foot behind him and he carries a sign. He limps badly, unless he is in a Tim's, in which case, he's fine.
   A man on a bike, everywhere, aluminum cans and glass bottles in his bike carrier.

   I don't talk to most of these people, as I don't know them. I almost feel like I could though, there is that growing familiarity. Maybe even a wave would do, a honk on the phone.
   My car gives me a level of anonymity as I travel up and down Oxford Street, otherwise I wonder if some of these same people might notice me.  And, as much as we are all a constant with each other, Oxford Street itself changes slowly but relentlessly. I am blessed in that I am able to see this happen as it happens and not return, after perhaps having been gone for years, and not really know where I was anymore!
   We all have routes we travel every day. Mine is Oxford Street and these were some of the people who frequent it. I'm glad for their presence, too, it is a long stretch of road, from one end of the city to the other, and a familiar face enlivens it. Perhaps, one of these days, I should get out of my car...


* if you can guess the significance of the colour scheme I used in this blog, please comment*

P.S. Also, hope you enjoyed the 3D effect...
  
  
  

  

30 Years of Alice and Me

   I recently celebrated my 30th anniversary of being employed by the Alice Saddy Association. I have paused to reflect many times as this anniversary approached in an attempt to put into perspective its significance.

The house on Wolfe Street, where it all began...

   Thirty years does seem like a long time, I suppose. Like most such stretches, though, it has passed by quickly. And though it seems like a significantly long time to be employed anywhere I must note that there are a couple of people who have been there longer and a whole host of people following closely in my footsteps. So I guess it must be a pretty good place to work if people are happy to be there that long!
    For those of you who aren't aware, the Alice Saddy Association is an agency that provides support to adults with developmental challenges. We have been doing this since 1973 and started as a very small agency. We were still quite small when I started there in 1981, we had a large old house on Wolfe Street in which up to eight people lived at a time and possibly another ten to fifteen people living in individual apartments out in the community. In the intervening years we have grown tremendously and now support 150 people. The staff group has grown from about 8 to 120.

...and a couple of places....

   What all this growth has meant to me is that I've met and worked with many, many amazing people over the years and found myself doing an incomprehensibly wide range of tasks and activities. Sometimes I've needed to be reminded of things I've been involved with; every once in awhile one of the other tenured staff will dredge up a memory and this will then spark a train of thought that leads us to all sorts of places we'd nearly forgotten about. If you do this enough times you end up being astounded at some of the things that have transpired over the years!
   The following is a partial list of some of the places and things I've been to and done with Alice over the years, as they randomly pop up in my head----planned a funeral, accompanied someone to court, rescued a person from an old cluttered house, wiped a butt (many of them!), moved someone (many times!), ducked or dodged a variety of "weapons", celebrated birthdays, worked in a bakery, changed a dressing, killed a bed bug, wrote a eulogy, went to a meeting (way too many of them!), felt for a dying man's pulse, made breakfast, cuddled on a couch, spied on the neighbours, cried, used a walkie-talkie, drove a van full of people, started a BBQ, cleared a path, picked out furniture, held a hand, stopped at a Tim's (many, many times!), drove to Timmins, Woodstock, Goderich, (you name it), picked out a coffin, flirted, swallowed some pride, ran a meeting, got out of a meeting, mopped up sewage, shingled a roof, landscaped, made a speech, coloured a picture, shaved off my beard, fell in love.

...where it still continues!

   And, believe me, that was only a partial list..... 
   Through the years, though, it has not only been the things I've seen and done but the people I've come to know along the way. And it has been a very diverse group of people. Because of this diversity, my own life has been enriched in small increments. As other people's stories unfold it is impossible to not apply what you have learned to your own life, whether it is something going on in the life of a person you support or something one of your fellow staff members is dealing with. Part of your job is to assist people as they move through the various stages of their lives and, after awhile, you find yourself going through the some of the same stages in your life. And because you have already helped someone deal with whatever the change has been, it is now easier to deal with yourself.
   Back to diversity. The people I've come to know through Alice have represented pretty well every walk of life, socio-economic group, ethnicity, sexual orientation, psycho-social characteristic and age group. Yes, I do enjoy big words! What this means is that I've seen it all, pretty well. And, now that I've said that, sure as shooting something will come up tomorrow I've never run into before and my life will simply continue to be enriched in this way!
   Some of the people who have helped with this enrichment are no longer with us. Several of those have been staff I worked along side of, others have been people who my goal was to support in their daily lives. Some left us suddenly and some left us time to prepare, in whatever way we thought we could, for a time when our paths would no longer cross. In all cases I am so thankful for having known them and they must know that they are remembered fondly. 
   Reflecting on my thirty-year career, I find myself with very few regrets and few things I might have changed. There have been moments of self-discovery. In subtle ways you are sometimes given much power over people and there is a huge onus on us all to wield this power responsibly. Have I done this well at every opportunity? Possibly not. But if I haven't I do think that when I went back and reviewed what went on I was able to see how I'd subtly misused my authority or power or whatever you would like to name it and then figured out what I needed to do to avoid that in the future.
   Regrets, as I mentioned, I have few of. One does come to mind, though. There was a time quite awhile ago when hiring new people was one of my responsibilties. I hired someone once and, to this day, I have deeply regretted doing so, and have often wished I could run into this person just one more time and tell them just exactly how I feel about them. My desire to do this is also something I regret....
   So all of this reflecting has me wondering just what lies ahead. I am not that far away from retirement age and before you know it I will need to make some plans around this. Life without Alice? A little hard to imagine, for sure! I still work full-time and for pretty well all those years I had a shift or two at the old building on Wolfe Street. These have now ended (never say "never") and it does feel strange to pass by that building and have very little reason to enter the place where it all started for me. I can only imagine that retirement will be a gradual sort of thing and that hopefully I will still be involved, if not by actually working then simply by spending time with people.
   The other day I had lunch with one of the staff I've known the longest. She herself is not far off the 30 year mark. I met her when she was a "kid",  a brand-new student from Fanshawe College. We ended up talking about the days when we all were younger and a touch more vital and how, in the intervening years, a new generation has emerged. We spent a little time trying to see ourselves in them but it was difficult, as I suppose it is for any generation looking at the young coming up from behind. What I do know is that among all these young people there are those who have the energy, drive and commitment that will help ensure that, as Alice carries on and continues to grow and change, the lives of the people we support will be in good hands. Which is to say, their hands, not our's!