When the Mountain Boy becomes the prairie dog (thanks James)!

Fule for Thought

 

By the time you read this (maybe that’s wishful thinking!), St. Patrick’s Day will have come and gone. People will be having green coloured foods and treats, and some wearing their best green outfits to avoid being pinched. 

A lot of people think that I’m Irish because of my first name, but if you’ve read earlier columns, you know my parents didn’t even have a name for me when I was born. So … I got named after the Irish doctor who delivered me! For your whole life to get called “Patty” or “Paddy,” and given extra pinches because kids think you’re Irish loses its “fun factor” after a while! Even my 80 year old Slovenian uncle calls me every St. Patrick’s Day! I’ve had to remind him, “uh, you know I’m Hungarian-Slovenian, right, Unc?” 

Oh well, the call’s always nice, even if I’m not Irish. It did get me thinking of my background, how I got to where I am, and specifically how I came to stay here in Strathmore.

Not to get political, but Strathmore has definitely gotten prettier over the last 30 years. There are more trees, parks, and pathways than ever before. But in May of 1983 when I got interviewed for a teaching position at Samuel Crowther School, it was not the “gem” it’s becoming now! Now before you long time residents get too mad, I came from Canmore, and that’s a lot different than here! In fact, on the interview day, I was a half hour early, so I thought I’d drive around the town. I thought maybe I could refer to something I saw, if it came up in the interview, and I wanted to look around. Driving east down Main Street, I was absolutely shocked. Back in 1983, Main Street was not the most attractive street in town! I drove down it and up the next one, and wasn’t quite sure what I’d just seen. My parents were off work that day, so I actually called home from a pay phone (you remember those) to tell them about Strathmore.

“You won’t believe this, Dad! The buildings are all old and kind of run down looking. They put the Main Street on a hill! I’ve never seen anything like this! Yeah, I’m still after the job, it might be a great starting point for me,” I told him. 

Starting point indeed, it’s now 31 years later and I’m still here! Deb and I had opportunities to go back and teach in Canmore, but we always talked ourselves out of it.

Now, it’s way too early to campaign, but it was the amazing people who kept us here! Strathmore’s residents still have that old fashioned down to earth friendliness, that I don’t think has even weakened over the last 30 years! It’s definitely been a great place for us to live and raise our family!

However, in 1983, I was still totally unsure. I was told 90 applied for the Jr./Sr. high job, ten of us were interviewed, and I got the position! I know, this is where some of you may be saying “what happened to the other nine?”  

It’s too late, 30 years have gone by … no “backsies” … it’s kind of late to get rid of me now! So, the next night (Saturday) the superintendent called me in Canmore to offer the job. I think I cut him off with a “yes” even before the sentence got very far! I do remember my mom screaming when she realized her son was going to be a teacher. My family is all from Europe and I was the first to ever get a University degree! Okay, sure, one of mine is a PE degree, but like I said, no “backsies!”

So, my parents came out with me later the next week to look for accommodations. There weren’t many from which to choose! Back then, the old King Edward Hotel was still going strong, with a Chinese restaurant attached. Just next to that was an ancient butcher shop with a one bedroom apartment above. We went to look at it, and once again, I was stunned. My dad said, “I think you take it, Pat. Not much in town. This one be good.”

“Uh Dad … I know you’re from the old country, and you were a POW in WWII, and lived through a lot of bad stuff, but that doesn’t mean your youngest kid has to! You’re not gonna make me live here, are you?”

“Vy not … you sometink special?” (My dad had an accent and was pretty blunt!)

“No, but I think there’s got to be something a little less Prison Campish,” I replied. 

Luckily Mom was with me and began to discipline my dad, she got me out of that one! We finally found a bachelor apartment in a brand new Chinook III, and I was ready to start “livin’ the dream!”

Yup, here I was, a Canmore mountain kid living on the Prairie. That first pay cheque I cleared $1,300 and my rent was $400! Now 31 years later, I’m still here and I really have no regrets … Strathmore is a great town, but I still wonder why Main Street’s on a hill!

 

(“Fule for Thought” is a slice of life humourous column that appears in the Strathmore Times, written by long-time resident, town councillor, high school teacher, coach, husband and father of two – Pat Fule. If you would like to get in touch with Pat, you can send him an e-mail at Pat.fule@shaw.ca)