In 1964 I emigrated from Belfast to Vancouver looking for remunerative employment with the US funded Distant Early Warning Line in the far north of Canada and a career I later deduced with the US military industrial complex.
I first found the Mid Canada Line and had to relocate to Montreal to be interviewed and possibly hired. Thus my first and lasting love, Vancouver to Montreal, of long distance train journeys.
While being trained for assignment in the Arctic a fellow classmate encouraged me to accompany him to a National Hockey League game at the old Montreal Forum between the Montreal Canadians and the Detroit Red Wings, at the time there were only six teams in the league. He encouraged me to cheer for Detroit, it was his warped sense of humor that first made us friends, but being perceptive I realized I risked the Montreal fans throwing me over the balcony of the nose bleed section and there and then I became a life long Montreal Canadians fan.
A few days ago my son Patrick sent me a photo from Boston of my grandson Rhys about to go on the ice for the first game of the season.
Could I reach back and tie another old life experience to a more recent one – maybe. But this one and Rhys are too good not to reflect on.
