Day 5 - FoodBank Challenge - Thinking of Artie Hyatt

Day 4 ended pretty good. I finished up the last of the leftover spaghetti, had a few crackers and my pancake mix bars and a nap (no energy this week)  before I went to Lodge last night in Embro - I am a member of Woodstock Lodge #269 of the Independant Order of Odd Fellows. I was telling the members of my experience in this weeks Operation Sharing Challenge and the Lodge voted to donate to the Salvation Army in Woodstock and Ingersoll ($250 each).

When I went to bed for some reason I thought of Artie Hyatt. Artie was one of the "poor" kids when I was growing up in Wheatley in the 60's. His family lived in a shack on Gypsy Hill (seriously). They drove around town in a tractor and wagon and Artie was always in the wagon. It was to him perhaps like being in a parade and folks would wave to him and Artie would smile and wave back. Artie would always yell out my name if he saw me because I was one of the few kids that would play with him at school. Artie was not dirty even though he was poor and I don't recall his clothes being rags although he wore the same things a lot. He had a ruddy complexion, a beaming smile and a squeaky voice. Funny how I can picture him from 45 years ago. Back in the 60's there was no food banks, only churches to help. Welfare from what I am told consisted of going to the municipal clerk and asking directly for money. Most times you would be given some task - WorkFare sort of. I was 7 or 8 years old so I was oblivious to how our social system worked. Artie and his Mom and Dad never bothered anyone (Although I wish I could say the favour was returned by some of the older kids in town). I remember sometimes seeing the tractor and wagon in front of Gordon's grocery store and the 3 of them going through the trash cans in the back or the boxes of  less than prime vegetables (They likely ate better than I did this week). Artie's dad, Nelson did odd jobs and he would always walk eyes towards the sidewalk, Artie's Mom however would walk with a "so what" attitude and from what I recall would engage in a "conversation" with anyone who looked at her with pity.
I would stop by their shack on my walks to the provincial park if Artie was out playing in the junk strewn lawn. I never took up the offer for lunch in the shack although I must say I was curious. Even though we were not by any means rich there was an invisible social barrier that had penetrated even my young psyche.

I visit Artie from time to time. I would like to tell you he is a world class surgeon but he is in the same cemetary as my Dad in Wheatley. Artie has a simple grave marker in the pauper's corner of the cemetary. One night during tomato season Artie was on the back of the unlit wagon and was struck from behind by a vehicle and killed. His mother was hurt too, if I recall correctly, but although she lived, part of her died that night too. I didn't go to the funeral, young kids just didn't do those things but I remember seeing his coffin in the mill at the lumberyard my Dad managed. That's what they did back then. A simple pine box cut to size.

I don't know what this has to do with Operation Sharing's Mayorial Food Bank Challenge. I recall a friend telling me of a study that said "You are what you were when you were 8 years old". Maybe this incident helped to frame my outlook on life and how I measure success. Maybe I rail against waste and government nannying because Artie showed me you can be happy with less. Maybe that is why I have tried in my managerial career to help single moms better their career. Maybe Artie taught me that a friend is the greatest treasure you can find on this earth. Perhaps I just think too much. Like Rudy on Survivor says "I don't know"

I'll be sending my media paragraph on my experience this week to the folks at Operation Sharing later today. Did the Mayorial candidates and media help to change things? "I Don't Know". I know that I changed and that is good enough for me.

Cheers
Tim Lobzun