The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

Pages WEST VANCOUVER HISTORICAL SOCIETY November 1997 ARCHIVES CORNER Ruminations at my desk while deliberating over several equally approprate items for the Corner! Mary Chapman, Archives Volunteer Coordinator True Confessions, Good Deeds and the Good Old Days **Is diligent, very analyHcal, can ci^vate an audience, has leadership qualities, but prefers to keep a low profile, ” Wasn't this the character analysis of Hugh Johnston’s handwriting by Renata Griffiths on the occasion of founding member Hugh’s retirement from the executive of the West Vancouver Historical Society after 17 years of faithful service? I must confess, that while attending a Wellness Show a couple of years ago at Canada Place, the Hawker at one of the booths analyzed my eyes with these very same words, possibly trying to entice me to have a full reading. I extricated myself from that situation and left while I was still ahead. However, as Hugh and I celebrate our birthdays one day apart, true Taurus’s that we are, the words seemed very appropriate. The Talking Stick that Hugh received from the Society as a parting gift really works! Even when his very young twin grandchildren have their turn at holding the stick, eveiybo^ listens. Do you think the weather is changing? When Municipal Clerk William Herrin arrived in West Vancouver, direct from London, England in 1919, he had been informed that it never snowed here. Two months after landing the temperature dropped almost to zero and kept there for three solid weeks, afterwards, capping this veiy unpleasant snap with a blizzard that left snow two feet deep Then again one early September morning when landing in \^couver at 7:30 in the pouring rain one of our old-timers answered his dolefril observation on the weather, “Why this is nothing! We’ve got California skinned a mile. This will clear up and then we’ll have the Indian summer until the end of October.” What did happen? Well, it just kept on raining in torrents day by day, and believe it or not, did not let up until the following May! El Nino hadn’t been invented yet. In the eariy years of Postal Service in West Vancouver John Lawson rented a post box in North \hncouver from where he would pick up any West Van mail at his convenience when travelling the Keith Road trail with his horse and buggy. This return trip was made all on the same day, mail sorted and ready to be distributed from his home to any West Vancouverite who arrived at his door in anticipation of a word from home or even a bill, no matter what kind of weather. When door to door home delivery began in West Vancouver in 1931 it was delivered twice a day, with Saturdays included. Now in my area the postie drives a fmcy white van with the red and blue lettering of the postal service, parks it in front of my house and proceeds to disburse a bundle of mail, returns to the van, moves on to the next block and repeats the process. Twice it has taken the Museum Newsletter a whole week to be delivered to my house in North Vancouver from Gertrude Lawson House and once again they have the temerity to threaten the Canadian people with yet another strike. John Lawson’s Pony Express is looking better all the time And from a 1975 Caulfeild Chronicle “our men in blue”â€"^the Blue Bus drivers performed services far beyond their line of duty: Remember the driver who detoured around a block so that a passenger could pick up her glasses and still not be late for work? Do you recall the driver whose passenger had forgotten to leave her son the car keys on a day when he had an important exam to write at U.B.C.? On his return from Vancouver the blue Bus Driver left the keys at the local drug store so that the boy could pick them up. If anybody knows the names of these drivers or passengers, please contact me through the West Vancouver Archives at 925-7298. Cypress Park Was a Happy Place Cont from Page 3 However, I’m very glad I grew up in the Depression years and onward, in a West Van, which didn’t think much in terms of thousands, let alone millions, and where everyone knew his neighbour and, unashamedly, his neighbour’s business. West \^. has left its mark on me - a love of hills and woods and springtime bird-song; of rushing roadside watercourses, though oddly enough, not of the sea. My interest in goats -1 presently have fourteen and milk nine twice daily -undoubtedly stemmed from the three or four friendly nannies kept for his own use by Mr., Cleg, a reclusive First War veteran who lived with his beehives in the fireweed clad second or third-growth woods at Twenty-fourth and Rosebeny. It was a long and adventurous trek, in 1937 to visit Cleg and buy a four-pound tin of his fireweed honey. Later Jacquie and her mother Mrs. Pettigrew, also kept goats for a short time which confirmed my interest and wish to keep such - not actually realized until I was living in Sooke, some eighteen years back. Time to go and feed the livestock now - two old ponies, two saddle horses and a half dozen young beef cattle at present. Thanks again for your letter and apologies for some extremely bad typing. Clearly I don’t keep my typing fingers exercised as I should. Peter can be excused, as he lost his sight at a very early age. My regards to any West Vancouverites who might remember us Claxtons - the Parents, as Jacquie probably told you, are now both gone after twenty-five happy post-WV days on North Pender Island. Sincerely, Peter Claxton - Edited slightly