Friends, Catholics and accidents of geography: Here we are at 55.7433° N latitude and, yes, it’s been a long and sometimes strange but always interesting trip

Photos courtesy of Ken Bodnar, My OCHS, Dave Beirness and Jeanette Kimball

Many people, myself included, subscribe to the notion that even if you haven’t seen a childhood or teenage friend for decades, you can both pick up pretty much where you left off 10, 20, 30, or even 40 years ago. That’s how comprehensive the comfort zone is between you.

I have a handful of friends, mainly from my days growing up in Oshawa in the 1960s and 1970s that fall into that category. It’s quite a small list. In most cases I went to school with them at some point, although many of my classmates I did lose touch with after high school. In fact, it wasn’t until I got an e-mail from Ken Bodnar June 30 that I learned Kathleen Taylor, a classmate all through school from St. Christopher Separate Elementary School on Annapolis Avenue to Oshawa Catholic High School on Stevenson Road North, had just been appointed a member of the Order of Canada.

Taylor, 58, is the chair of the board of RBC and the former president and chief executive officer of Four Seasons Hotels and Resorts in Toronto. Thank goodness for Ken or I’d have no idea probably about Kathleen’s recent honour. Congratulations, Katie!

Ken Bodnar’s blog called My OCHS at http://myochs.blogspot.ca/ is the first and last word on our high school days and years. Ken has it all: history, both official and unofficial, trivia, the arcane, milestones, biographical sketches and old photos from his own archive of old negatives, yearbooks and other sources. Ken is the unofficial archivist for all things relating to St. Joseph’s High School, Oshawa Catholic High School, or Monsignor Paul Dwyer Catholic High School, as students now call its hallowed halls.

In a new study published in April in the journal Royal Society Open Science in London, the authors set out to explore “the way life history influences human sociality and the way social networks are structured.

“Our results indicate that these aspects of human behaviour are strongly related to age and gender such that younger individuals have more contacts and, among them, males more than females.

“However, the rate of decrease in the number of contacts with age differs between males and females, such that there is a reversal in the number of contacts around the late 30s. We suggest that this pattern can be attributed to the difference in reproductive investments that are made by the two sexes. We analyse the inequality in social investment patterns and suggest that the age – and gender-related differences we find reflect the constraints imposed by reproduction in a context where time (a form of social capital) is limited.”

“The number of friends a person has can be difficult to quantify, especially when social media has served to widen the definition of ‘friend,’” observed freelance reporter Elsa Vulliamy in a May 23 piece on the study in the London-based Independent, “but these scientists stuck to the basics – they measured how many people subjects contacted via telephone.

“The study shows that both men and women continue to make more and more friends until the age of 25, when the numbers begin falling rapidly and continue to fall throughout the rest of a person’s life,” wrote Vulliamy.

“Researchers found that the average 25-year-old man contacts around 19 different people per month, where 25-year-old women contacted an average of around 17.5 people.

“By the age of 39, however, men and woman are calling an average of only 12 and 15 people per month respectively.

“The rapid decline in the number of people being contacted by both men and women comes to a stop around the age of 80, where the numbers plateau at around eight for women and six for men.”

What I have observed personally is that after my mid-20s, most of my new friends over the years have tended to be professionally or work connected, directly or indirectly. Or at least travel in the same social circles. Sure there are some exceptions to that observation, but not many.

On the other hand, I would venture to say most of my friends up to my mid-20s, when I began working as a daily newspaper reporter, were of greater variety – eventually – in terms of occupational backgrounds. That may well be because none of them really had an occupation, unless playing road hockey or house league baseball counts. Mind you, we did get a few chances to rub shoulders, however, briefly through road hockey and baseball with greatness, even if their greatness was just starting to shine through when we were kids.

I didn’t get to skate with Bobby Orr, hockey’s greatest defenceman. But I did get to play a bit of road hockey with him. My occasional contact with Orr between 1964 and 1966 was limited to some road hockey shinny in our Oshawa neighbourhood.

Orr, from Parry Sound, Ontario, was playing OHA Major Junior A Hockey then for the Oshawa Generals, a farm team of the NHL Boston Bruins. He was between 16 and 18 then. Bobby boarded with a family on Walmer Road, as did Wayne Cashman, the hardworking right-winger, who would go onto captain the Boston Bruins.

Sometimes they’d let us younger kids, who were seven to nine, join in. Bobby and Wayne were like that.

Hockey was our lives. Every Saturday meant a dinner of steak and fried onions at 4 p.m. After dinner it was off to mass at St. Gregory’s for 5 p.m., and back home again only to be knocking on Mike Byrne’s door at 6 p.m. to “take shots” with him on net. Mike shot left. I used a right-handed Hespeler. I am quite convinced that childhood friendships like I had with Mike Byrne are largely accidents of geography, as it were. There is a common saying that while you can’t choose your family, you can choose your friends. Maybe. Sort of. At least after you’re old enough mid-high school to get a driver’s licence or later when you’re off at college or university. But the pool or circle you are going to choose friends from when you are say between six and 15 is going to be based largely on geographic proximity to where your family lives, likely within walking distance. Accidents of geography. Sure you can make choices within that pool or circle; not everyone within it is going to be your friend, but what friends you do have as a kid are going to, for the most part, come from within it.

In 1972, Mike Byrne and I were both 15 and coached a Nipigon Park house league baseball team, which included future Winnipeg Jets’ hockey legend Dale Hawerchuk, then nine-years-old. Unlike road hockey, where we had been the youngsters hanging out with Orr and Cashman, in baseball the reverse age factor was in effect for baseball. We were the old guys. The coaches.

Last Thursday, I saw my old friend Dave Beirness, from Oshawa. He was in Winnipeg for a few days and rented a car and made the 750-kilometre drive up Highway 6 to Thompson for an overnight visit. I’ve known Dave since about 1974.

In the spring of 1976 we both drove white company-owned Plymouth Dusters delivering pizzas for Mother’s Pizza Simcoe North in Oshawa for $2.65 per hour plus tips. Those beasts could just fly! What pizza company delivers in that cool a car today? Or for that matter, what pizza company has a fleet of staff delivery vehicles of any kind? “I’ve always said it was the best pizza restaurant with good food!” Dave said in an e-mail back in 2013. “I even loved working for them, even if I had to drive a Plymouth Duster!!!”

You can imagine how pleased we both were then to read a few years ago, around the same we re-connected in 2013 actually, that the iconic Canadian pizza parlour chain from the 1970s – with its swinging parlor-style doors, Tiffany lamps, antique-style chairs, red-and-white checked gingham tablecloths, black-and-white short silent movies shown on a screen for patrons waiting for their meal to enjoy, root beer floats and pizzas served on silver-coloured metal pedestal stands, was to be reopened by two local entrepreneurs, Brian Alger and Geeve Sandhu, in April on Queenston Road in Hamilton, Ontario. By all accounts they are doing well with the venture.

Mother’s Pizza was founded in 1970 by three partners, Grey Sisson, Ken Fowler and Pasquale Marra, and got its start in the Westdale Village area of Steeltown. The chain eventually grew to about 120 locations in Canada, the United States and England.

Sisson, Fowler and Marra sold their stake in Mother’s Pizza in the mid-1980s, after taking the company public. In 1986 there was a leveraged buyout and Jerry White became chief executive officer. He sold franchises to a group of Toronto Blue Jays players but revenue began to plummet.

Little Caesars bought some assets of the Mother’s Pizza chain when it was in receivership in 1989, while existing franchisees also had the option to purchase their restaurant outright.

Locations began to close a few years later, including the landmark first one in Westdale in 1992, although one Mother’s Pizza franchise from the old days has apparently hung on all these years at 10 Country Hills Landing NW in the Beddington Mall in Calgary, making it something of a cult favourite for Mother’s Pizza aficionados.

Dave and I went to different high schools (R.S. McLaughlin Collegiate for Dave, while I was across the street at what was then Oshawa Catholic High School) but in the fall of 1976, months after our pizza delivery experiences, we both wound up heading off to Trent University.

The last time I saw Dave before July 7 was 24 years ago in July 1992 at a Sunday barbecue at his place in Oshawa before I headed down to North Carolina for a week. Dave went on from university to be an elementary school teacher in the Durham Region for many years before retiring in 2011.

While Dave is not on LinkedIn, Twitter or Facebook (except for trolling his wife’s Facebook page occasionally when curiosity gets the best of him) he does Google searches and uses email. He tracked me down in Thompson almost 3½ years ago now when I was editing the Thompson Citizen and Nickel Belt News.

It started with an e-mail I received at work on Feb. 5, 2013: “Dave Beirness here! I have finally (I think) found out where you are. Ron G. and I were both thinking about you and your whereabouts during our high school reunion this past fall.

“We have a lot of catching up to do so keep in touch and please give me a home email address so I don’t have to correspond through your work address.

“P. S. I knew it was you when I saw your picture. Your head still has the same tilt.” Dave calls it my “thinking” pose. Friends like Dave can get away with implying work email really wouldn’t be appropriate to use from here on out because of the possible nature of the ensuing correspondence, and also remark on the tilt of your head in your newspaper photo they spotted in your online column without sounding offensive, but rather simply candidly familiar.

It’s rather refreshing because who actually tells you how it really is after you reach a certain age and stage of life? Your spouse or partner? OK, sure. And your former university roommates, that’s who.

Dave and I have shared more than four decades of friendship from high school days in Oshawa and delivering pizzas for Mother’s Pizza through being roommates off-campus from September 1977 to April 1978 at a townhouse at 1100 Hilliard Street in Peterborough, along with Ron Graham, another friend from Oshawa, while we were at Trent University in Peterborough.

While not all former roommates considered themselves friends (I had several excellent roommates who were just that and not really friends per se) they were the people who lived with you under the same roof when you were 19, 20, or 21-years-old, or whatever. In many cases, they were the first non-family, non-related people we lived with as young adults after leaving home.

A photo from that academic year, taken no doubt after a night of hard studying, shows me with Dave in my room and what appears to be a mickey of Canadian Club rye in one hand and a libation in the other. The colourful shirt is my dad’s, which was his favourite cottage shirt at Lake Simcoe, and which I somehow must have convinced him to donate to his son for university.

The purple and gold headboard were also my dad’s handiwork. As a teenager in Oshawa, I had some fondness for both the UCLA Bruins basketball team and the NHL’s Los Angeles Kings, both of which were sporting purple and gold uniforms in those days, so I convinced my father to paint my bedroom at 537 Nipigon Street in Oshawa, along with some of the furnishings … purple and gold, of course. I remember the realtor and my father discussing just how many coats of paint it might take to cover over my inspired idea (especially the purple) when my parents retired and put the house up for sale in June 1976. It seems some of the furnishings went off to university with me and escaped any repainting.

Sitting out in my backyard late in the afternoon last Thursday with Dave, and then later at Santa Maria Pizza & Spaghetti House on Station Road (where else would ex-Mother’s Pizza drivers go for dinner but to a pizza joint?) and Pub 55 (as in Thompson at 55.7433° N latitude) did yield several surprises though, as we put back a couple of Shock Top Belgian Whites and other libations.

While some of the conversation inevitably trended to things like “whatever happened to who?” questions back and forth, I learned a couple of things about Paul Sobanski, who is a mutual friend, but one Dave has kept in touch with over the years, while I sort of lost track of Paul. Truth is I’ve known Paul probably 10 years longer than Dave. I met Paul when we were six and seven-years-old and he lived in the next block down from me on Nipigon Street in Oshawa. I met Mike Byrne the same year. He lived on the same street between Paul and me.

Paul went off to Queen’s University a year before I finished high school, if I recall correctly (again, like Dave, Paul was at R.S. McLaughlin Collegiate, while I was across the street at Oshawa Catholic High School) to study engineering.  From our conversations before he went off to university, it seemed Paul wanted to pursue engineering at Queen’s and then maybe do some specialized work at General Motors Institute (GMI) in Flint, Michigan before launching his career with General Motors Canada at the plants in Oshawa. In fact, during my summers working at GM in Oshawa as a university student from 1976-1979, I heard that Paul was also working elsewhere in the plants for the company at least some of those summers.

So not seeing Paul, I simply assumed his trajectory put him on a 30-year or so career with General Motors that only would have ended a few years ago with retirement.  Journalists learn early on never to assume anything. Perhaps that rule should be extended to friendship also; Dave, when he stopped laughing, told me Paul had only worked for General Motors for the first three or four years of his career perhaps in the 1980s, before heading off to work as an engineer outside the automotive industry. Now Paul has indeed retired. To Peterborough. A place I lived for years and to which Paul had no known connection prior to retirement. At least that I know of. But I won’t assume anything.

Before he ventured north last week, Dave’s wife remarked to him I was a rather prolific poster of Catholic articles on Facebook. Which is quite true. Dave was nonplussed. “John’s always been a Catholic. He went to Oshawa Catholic High School,” Dave said his reply was. Dave himself is Protestant or perhaps what might more likely be described today as among that growing cohort pollsters describe as ”nones” (as opposed to nuns). While my Protestant friends went mainly to R.S. McLaughlin Collegiate, part of the public school system, a good number of my Catholic friends in what was then known as the “separate school” system wound up transferring to R.S. McLaughlin Collegiate after completing Grade 8 at St. Christopher Separate Elementary School or even more so after Grade 10 at Oshawa Catholic High School, spending their last three high school years at R.S. McLaughlin Collegiate for Grades 11, 12 and 13, as Catholic schools in the 1970s in Ontario were only taxpayer-supported as far as the end of Grade 10.

After that they were considered private schools and parents were required to pay tuition, which in the early 1970s, was running at about $300 per year, I believe. It sounds like a modest sum, and while it wasn’t prohibitively expensive for most, it was at the same time not an inconsiderable expense for Catholic parents who were middle-class blue collar wage earners making under $4 per hour on average in 1973, along with the added costs of mandatory school uniforms – grey flannel pants and navy blue blazer and tie for the boys and white blouse and blue kilt for the girls.

According to Statistics Canada historical data, the average manufacturing wage earner in Ontario in 1973 made $8,042 in annual salary, which works out to $154.56 per week or about $3.87 per hour for a 40-hour work week. So $300 in private annual tuition for a Catholic high school for senior grades represented almost two week’s annual salary. It was a sacrifice for many Catholic families. Other Catholic students, however, transferred from the Catholic to public system in the early 1970s for philosophical reasons flowing from the great social changes sweeping the Catholic world in those early years after the end of the Second Vatican Council, while others transferred simply for reasons of being with their peers and friends, if the majority were in the public system. The reverse occurred, too, as a small number of Protestant families sent their children to the private Catholic high school system, attracted not by Catholicism per se, but rather a sense, justified or not, that Catholic schools had a somewhat higher quality of education and more rigorous discipline.

I’m not sure how reassured Dave’s wife must have been when he went onto to tell her that Paul Sobanski had told him as kids I used to excitedly want to talk to him about the Second Vatican Council, which ended on Dec.8, 1965, when I was eight, and had opened on Oct. 11, 1962, when I was five. Mind you, as a kid, my idea of fun late on a Saturday afternoon at the cottage at Lake Simcoe, near Beaverton, Ontario and down the road a small piece from Orillia and Canadian humorist Stephen Leacock’s somewhat fictional, somewhat true Mariposa setting for his 1912 classic Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town, was walking the beach road past the Talbot River and down to the blue Toronto Star “honour” coin box and buying the unbelievably fat Saturday Star. My main interest was the “Insight” section and the rotogravure colour-printed Star Weekly magazine.

More than four decades of friendship with Dave. It’s been a long and sometimes strange but always interesting trip.

You can also follow me on Twitter at: https://twitter.com/jwbarker22

True stories: Pastor Ted Goossen’s behind the scenes contributions to the long-running Nickel Belt News’ ‘Spiritual Thoughts’ column

Ted and Mary Goossen, U-Haul truck packed, decamped from Thompson, Manitoba yesterday to begin their new and richly-deserved retirement in Saskatoon closer to their children and grandchildren.

Fortuitously, their home on Riverside Drive, after many months on the market, sold over their last weekend here, with the realtor informing them just before Ted arrived at Christian Centre Fellowship Sunday morning to preach his last sermon as pastor there for the last decade.

Ted’s younger brother, Gareth Goossen, who is also a pastor and lives in Breslau in southwestern Ontario, aptly observed in a Facebook posting: “Awesome! Praise the Lord! I continually am amazed at how Jesus answers our prayers at the last possible moment!!!”

I first got to know Ted in 2008, a few months after I arrived in Thompson to edit the Thompson Citizen and Nickel Belt News. We were kicking around the idea of adding some fresh columns and columnists and one of the ideas that was floated during the summer of 2008 was to have some sort of religion column.

Some of the initial discussion I had, mainly via e-mail, was with Rev. Leslie-Elizabeth King, who retired in May 2014 as minister of the Lutheran-United Church of Thompson on Caribou Drive, but at the time was pastor of St. John’s United Church, before the neighbouring congregations of Advent Lutheran and St. John’s United formally joined together in 2013, after starting a dialogue about their respective futures in 2008.

The old Advent Lutheran Church building was demolished last fall and is the future site of what will be the second Thompson Gas Bar Co-operative store in town.

King had also pastored St. Simon’s Anglican Church in Lynn Lake, a shared ecumenical ministry of the United and Anglican churches, having travelled to St. Simon six times a year since 1998 to administer the sacraments, so she had some broad and candid insights into how religion was done in Northern Manitoba.

Bea Shantz was also originally involved in some of those preliminary discussions I had in the summer and fall of 2008. Shantz was a member of Thompson United Mennonite Church until it closed in July 2006. One of the first churches in Thompson, the Thompson United Mennonite Church formed in 1961. The congregation called its first pastor, John Harder, and built its house of worship at 365 Thompson Dr. in 1963. The Thompson Boys and Girls Club eventually bought the former church.

After it closed, Shantz went to St. John’s United Church and the Lutheran-United Church of Thompson, with the merger of the two churches.

Shantz, originally from southwestern Ontario, lived in Thompson for more than 30 years before she, and her husband, Dale, moved to Winnipeg in June. Shantz was well-known for being an active volunteer in numerous areas, but especially in more recent years with Thompson’s Communities in Bloom committee, as well as the annual Ten Thousand Villages sale of fair trade products from developing countries held every November. She received the 2013 Volunteer of the Year award from the City of Thompson and  YWCA of Thompson Women of Distinction award last April.

But in December 2008, it would be Pastor Ted Goossen, who was still pretty much unknown to me, whose name would surface as the co-ordinator of what was to be a new “Spiritual Thoughts” column, which with the exception of one hiatus of a few months after running for several years, has run and continues to run in the Nickel Belt News for going on seven years now.

While the column belongs to the paper, the co-ordination of getting authors to write for it on an almost weekly basis, was delegated from the beginning, under my tenure anyway, to the Thompson Christian Council, and from 2008 until at least my departure in 2014, and from what I’ve been told, beyond, to Pastor Ted Goossen, whose Christian Centre Fellowship is a member of the council.

While most of the columnists in the rotation have overwhelmingly been local clergy who are members of the council over the years, not all have. Pastors whose churches are not members of the Thompson Christian Council, lay people, and on occasion non-Christian perspectives and writers, have also appeared in the column space from time-to-time, a plurality of views I insisted on. For their part, in my experience the Thompson Christian Council always graciously respected the fact while the “Spiritual Thoughts” column was a useful vehicle for evangelizing, at the end of the day it was not theirs, and in some cases not reflective of their views collectively or individually.

More than once, as Ted tried to put together six-month writing rosters for the “Spiritual Thoughts” column in those early days, I would quip to him, often in an e-mail, that organizing such a roster must be something like “herding cats.” While Sunday (or Saturday for Seventh-day Adventists) preaching may the most visible part of what most pastors do, there’s also plenty to do on the other days of the week, such as visiting the sick and burying the dead, and comforting those left behind, or marriage preparation or marriage counseling. Lots to do in other words beside a writing a free column for a newspaper, as heretical as that notion may seem in some journalism circles.

It was about three months after the “Spiritual Thoughts” column started that I had my first social invitation from Ted and Mary to visit Christian Centre Fellowship for an event. Every February or March, the church holds a family enrichment weekend that usually kicks off with a banquet and featured speaker on the Friday night (occasionally the banquet has been on Saturday) and wraps up with a movie night Sunday evening. In February 2009, Jeanette and me found ourselves seated at a table with Tricia Kell, the featured speaker for the weekend, Majors Grayling and Jacqueline Crites from the Thompson Corps of the Salvation Army, a couple that I knew about as well as Ted at that time, and Ted and Mary (when Mary wasn’t working in back in the kitchen.)

Kell is the author of two books, one of which is Chain of Miracles, the 2004 story of how she said the “power and love of God can change a chain of tragedies into a chain of miraculous victories.”

The book described how “God walked her through the abusive relationship and tragic death of her first husband to the accidents that left two of her children both physically and mentally challenged – to another horrifying incident that nearly killed her current husband.”

Kell was born in Halifax and raised as a Roman Catholic. A self-described “air force brat,” she lived in both Europe and Canada growing up. Later, she said, she “developed, owned and managed a successful clothing design company along with other companies.”

She described in Chain of Miracles how her first husband, Jeffrey, with a gun in the vehicle and their three-month-old son, J.J., threw them from a car into a ditch between Ponton and Thompson.
Kell, and her current husband, Gord, live in Winnipeg with their three adult children.

Her second book, Attitude Determines Altitude, was a humorous book, she said, “still based on my everyday life but tells how I beat my fear of flying.” It was published in 2008.

The following year we received a return invitation to share dinner with Paul Boge, the Winnipeg engineer-author-filmmaker.

Boge is an award-winning author who has written The Urban Saint: The Harry Lehotsky Story; Father to the Fatherless: The Charles Mulli Story; Hope for the Hopeless: The Charles Mulli Mission; and most recently, The Biggest Family in the World, chronicling the life of Charles Mulli in an illustrated children’s book published last December.

He has also written two novels in a potential trilogy, The Chicago Healer in 2004, and The Cities of Fortune in 2006.

In 2010, Boge talked about his then recently published book, The Urban Saint: The Harry Lehotsky Story, which explored the life of old west end Winnipeg inner city pastor Harry Lehotsky, who died of pancreatic cancer in 2006 at age 49.

Boge won Word Guild’s best new Canadian author award in 2003 for his first book, The Chicago Healer, published the following year.

In addition to being an author, Boge, is a consulting mining engineer and capital project manager with the family firm Boge & Boge Consulting Engineers in Winnipeg, and no stranger to Thompson. He lived and worked here for nine months in 2003, five months in 2005 and for another 10 months in 2007, while working on three separate surface projects for Vale, and doing much of his writing in his apartment at night.

Boge is also behind FireGate Films, an independent Winnipeg company that made the 2006 feature-length movie Among Thieves, with Boge writing, directing and producing the film, which explores the possibility the end is in sight for the United States dollar as the world’s reserve currency, as Gulf Arab countries including Saudi Arabia, Abu Dhabi, Kuwait and Qatar have contemplated ending dollar dealings for oil and moving to a basket of currencies including the euro and Chinese yuan or renminbi. The last Middle East oil producer to sell its oil in euros rather than U.S. dollars was Saddam Hussein’s Iraq in 1990.

Boge is also the co-ordinator for the annual Winnipeg Real to Reel Film Festival at North Kildonan Mennonite Brethren Church in mid-February. He is a member of the church.

Five years later, Boge returned as the keynote speaker again this year for the  Feb. 27 to March 1 weekend, sharing about his work and how he integrates his faith into his work environment. We’ve kept in touch by e-mail here and there over the last five years and we saw him briefly in Winnipeg in February 2012 at the Real to Reel Film Festival.

Paul’s a great guy and fun to hang around with. So this year, in a bit of a break from tradition, where we had only attended the kick-off banquet or sometimes the Sunday chili dinner and movie night, Jeanette and me ventured out to Nick DiVirgilio’s NC Crossroad Lanes upstairs at his North Centre Mall on Station Road for some Saturday afternoon five-pin bowling. We wound up on a team with Paul. Never let it  be said Christians can’t be competitive.

Besides the annual family enrichment weekend, over the last seven years, I’ve dropped by the odd Sunday morning to check out a worship service, usually with Jeanette, but sometimes on my own when she’s been away at International Music Camp in  Dunedin, North Dakota. And over this past year I attended every other Saturday at 9 a.m. for their men’s fellowship breakfast, which wrapped up for the season June 13.

How I wound up going to the breakfasts was through a typical Ted invitation. Last Oct. 17, at 7:41 p.m. on a Friday evening I received an e­-mail Ted:  “We’re having men’s breakfast tomorrow 9 am @ Christian centre.

“You’re welcome to join us.

“Ted.”

Truth be told, the invitation was Mary’s idea. For these mainly, but not exclusively, Mennonite Brethren to invite a third-­degree member of Knights of Columbus Thompson Council #5961 from St. Lawrence Roman Catholic Church parish here to break bread with them struck me somewhat irreverently perhaps as in keeping with Jesus telling Zacchaeus the tax collector he was coming over for dinner. It also struck me as the kind of invitation my current supreme pontiff, Pope Francis, wouldn’t hesitate to accept. Before I moved to Manitoba in 2007, I knew next to nothing about Mennonites. What little I knew living and working mainly in Southern Ontario was shaped by images of the Old Order Mennonites of St. Jacobs, Ontario. Or was that the Old Order Amish of Lancaster County, Pennsylvania? Who knew? While I may not have sorted it all out or ever will, I’m pretty sure the Mennonite Brethren I had breakfast with were not Old Order, although I have encountered Old Order-­like Mennonites here in Thompson (I once asked a group caroling at Christmas when I was editor of the Thompson Citizen if they would mind me taking their photograph in one of those “duh­-what­-was­-I­-thinking” moments. Their leader graciously told me while his salvation wasn’t going to depend on whether or not I took his picture, out of deference to their religious beliefs, he’d rather I didn’t.)

Now Protestant evangelicals are sola scriptura or the “People of the Book,” while Catholic theology relies on the rule of faith-based scripture, plus apostolic tradition, as manifested in the teaching authority of the magisterium of the Catholic Church. Catholics, outside of the seminary or Catholic scholarship, at the rank-­and-­file lay level in the pews, are generally not catechesized to know the Bible as well as Protestants do. That’s a plain and simple fact. So I appreciated the indulgence of my Protestant brothers during biblical discussions. I still chuckle when I recall the Saturday morning I was attempting to illustrate some point by referring to the Apostle Paul before the Areopagus, where some of the assembled said, “We shall hear you again concerning this,” but I could not quite place where it was in the Bible, and pilot Reg Willems, since decamped to Flin Flon, sitting beside me at the table, said gently, “That would be in Acts, John.”

I learned a lot through those discussions with Ted and Reg, Lloyd Penner, Jason Winship, Dustin Winker, Trevor Giesbrecht, Barry Little, Keith Hyde, Gord Unger, Ken Giesbrecht, Keith Derksen, Claude Pratte, Cohle Bergen, Peter Gosnell, Bill Lennox, Jim Cohan, Wei Wei, Adam Morin and Nick Yoner  (with Keith, Gord and Dustin usually doing the cooking). Thanks, guys.

I also learned something about accountability in friendship through Ted these past seven years, as he wouldn’t hesitate to call you on something, if need be.

Two examples from our “Spiritual Thoughts” column collaborative efforts come to mind. The first occurred near the beginning of our work together in 2009, the other near the end in 2014.

In the first case, Jordan McLellan, who was the assistant pastor at the Thompson Pentecostal Assembly, focusing on youth ministry from mid-2007 until he left for Saskatoon to take a position at Lawson Heights Pentecostal Assembly in early 2010, had missed a couple of his submissions for the column without explanation.

I recall fuming to Ted in a telephone call that if McLellan missed a third contribution in such a manner, I was going to “irrevocably” drop him from the column rotation. Perhaps it was the word irrevocably that did it, but Ted didn’t miss a beat with his response, replying that he was glad then that I wasn’t the “good Lord.” Point taken. And never forgotten.

Just over a year ago, young Richard Sheppard, group leader of the Thompson Seventh-day Adventist Congregation, asked to join the “Spiritual Thoughts” rotation. At the time, the local Seventh-day Adventists weren’t part of the Thompson Christian Council (they were admitted by a unanimous vote this past spring) but that wasn’t in itself a bar to Sheppard writing, nor was Seventh-Day Adventist theology. By virtue of their valid baptism, and their belief in Christ’s divinity and in the doctrine of the Trinity, Seventh-day Adventists are both ontologically and theologically Christians. The real problem was perceived to be Sheppard himself, who is off this fall to a Seventh-day Adventist post-secondary school in Lacombe, Alberta.

Richard is a controversialist, by design or evolution, I’m not sure which. He’s zealous. He’s in-your-face. In short, he’s everything management of the Nickel Belt News did not want to see in the pages of the paper in what had been a pretty safe and non-controversial column space.

Management was adamant. That is until Ted outflanked us from the left – for probably the first and only time in his life.

When I sent Ted an e-mail relaying the news that Sheppard wouldn’t be joining the roster, he replied with his own hard-hitting e-mail pointing out that several years earlier when we had briefly run a columnist in that space whose views were anathema to most of the clergy on the council, they had swallowed hard and realized newspapers are supposed to be about free speech.

What happened to that notion, Ted wondered?

Essentially, he accused of us pre-publication censorship and betraying our free speech principles.

What Richard needed was a good editor to work with him and perhaps tone him down a bit in places, not to spike the column entirely, Ted argued.

I shared Ted’s response with my boss, and observed how professionally embarrassing it was to be lectured on free speech and the role of a newspaper by an evangelical pastor who at that moment had truth very much on his side, and was making us look like moral cowards and far more conservative than any views he held.

Ted’s argument prevailed, and Richard Sheppard’s first “Spiritual Thoughts” column, critiquing the popular Christian movie Heaven is for Real, which in Richard’s words was “a spellbinding tale about a young toddler in a clerical family who ostensibly dies on an operating table, visits heaven and comes back with mystifying facts from ‘beyond the grave’ that his own father finds hard not to accept,” ran on June 20, 2014 in the Nickel Belt News, albeit toned down a tad from the original submission, where (and I’m paraphrasing only slightly here, I believe, from memory) Richard suggested the movie was an exercise in necromancy, not a word we saw in a lot of column submissions, and which was excised from what appeared in print – but the entire column did not need to be axed, which was part of Ted’s point.

To my knowledge the particular column generated no complaints. And last I counted, Richard had gone onto write at least five more “Spiritual Thoughts” columns for the paper.

I ran into Richard in person in early April and told him he had Ted to thank for making it into the column rotation. He seemed pleasantly surprised. Nice kid, really.

Safe travels, Ted. Manitoba’s loss is Saskatchewan’s gain.

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Strike & Spare: Canadians uniquely have 5-pin bowling but Americans have a 10-pin bowling alley in the White House

Nick DiVirgilio’s NC Crossroad Lanes upstairs at his North Centre Mall on Station Road in Thompson, offering both five-pin and 10-pin bowling, opened in March 1999 and celebrated its 16th anniversary March 19.

My first trip to Nick’s NC Crossroad Lanes – at least to bowl – was for some five-pin bowling a few weeks before that on Feb. 28 when my friend Paul Boge, the Winnipeg writer and filmmaker was in town for the weekend as guest speaker for Pastor Ted Goossen’s annual Thompson Christian Centre Fellowship Family Enrichment weekend, and a Saturday afternoon outing to the bowling alley was on the agenda. My curiosity got the best of me in wondering if Boge is as good a bowler as he is speaker and Christian apologist. He is.

DiVirgilio’s NC Crossroad Lanes has been the only game in town when it comes to bowling since May 2010 when the last strikes were thrown at Thompson Lanes on Churchill Drive, which opened in 1965 and was operated by the Stuart family for 40 of its 45 years in existence.

Before my end of February five-pin outing at NC Crossroad Lanes with my friends from Thompson Christian Centre Fellowship, I think my most recent bowling outing had been back in Kingston, Ontario when I was a grad student at Queen’s University in the mid-1990s.

Five-pin bowling, for my American readers, is a Canadian thing, invented by Tommy Ryan in Toronto in 1909. Original pin count (values) are established as (from left to right) “4-2-1-3-5.” The first five-pin bowling league was formed at Ryan’s Toronto Bowling Club the following year in 1910. While there are  some five-pin bowling alleys in the United States and in Europe, the vast majority of five-pin bowling alleys and leagues are found in Canada.

Ryan ran his own pool hall in Toronto prior to inventing the sport of five-pin bowling. Ryan came up with the idea of five-pin bowling after many of his clients complained that the balls in 10-pin bowling were too heavy. As a result, he produced a version of bowling with a new scoring system, lighter balls, and rubber rings around the pins.

The first five-pin bowling organization was the Canadian Bowling Association (CBA) formed in Toronto in 1927, which followed a year later in 1928 with its first Official 5 Pin Rule Book printed by the CBA. In 1952, the pin count was revised to (from left to right) 2-3-5-3-2 (as it is currently). The highest possible score that can be attained in five-pin bowling is 450. This can be accomplished by achieving a strike in the first nine frames and then achieving three more strikes in the tenth (final) frame. In five-pin bowling, three strikes in a row is a total of 45 points (in the first frame in which the streak began). When multiplied by 10, the final point total would be 450.

The Canadian Five-Pin Bowler’s Association now determines the rules and rule changes in five-pin bowling, while the Bowling Proprietors Association of Canada (BPAC) represents the interest of bowling alley owners.

When a player uses all three of their throws to knock down all of the pins, it is known as a “full set.” Three consecutive strikes is known as a “turkey”; three consecutive strikes in the tenth frame is called a “Strike Out,” while hitting both three pins (in your first two throws) is called a “Howie.”

Each week nearly one million Canadians go bowling and five-pin bowling was voted the fourth-greatest Canadian invention of all time on the CBC Television series Greatest Canadian Inventions.

The United States had 4,061 bowling centers in 2012, down 25 percent from 1998, the earliest year for which the U.S. Census collected consistent data, Bloomberg Business reported last July. By contrast, the United States added 2,000 bowling alleys between the end of the Second World War and 1958, when the American Society of Planning Officials reported in May 1958 that “the bowling alley is fast becoming one of the most important – if not the most important – local center of participant sport and recreation.”

While Canadians may have the claim on five-pin bowling, Americans can point to the unique distinction of having a bowling alley – albeit 10-pin – right in the White House in Washington. In fact, it turned 68 last Saturday, as President Harry S. Truman officially opened it on April 25, 1947.

Fellow Missourians funded the construction of the bowling alley on the ground floor of the West Wing in honour of the president. They had intended to open the alley as part of Truman’s 63rd birthday celebration on May 8, 1947, but construction was completed ahead of schedule. Truman’s favourite pastime was poker and although he had not bowled since he was a teenager, A&E Television Networks’ This Day in History notes, “he gamely hoisted the first ball, knocking down 7 out of 10 pins. One of the pins is now on display at the Smithsonian Institution.”

Truman allowed staff to start a league but presidential bowling was moved to the Old Executive Office Building in 1955 to make way for a mimeograph room. But in 1969, President Richard Nixon, an avid bowler, had a new one-lane alley built, which was paid for by friends, in an underground workspace area below the driveway leading to the North Portico.

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