Yearly Archives: 2018 (Page 4)

20-years-ago today I was in Halifax, Nova Scotia preparing to make the crossing to Prince Edward Island and province number three. Coming into Halifax, the RCMP officer behind me honked his horn to point out the cemetery where some of those who were lost in the 1912 sinking of the Titanic are buried. I had time to realize that I was learning a lot about history and Canada’s role in some memorable events. Along the road through Halifax we were incredibly busy, and the road team asked me to slow down as bit as they were scrambling to deal with all the donations being handed out car, truck and motor home windows. In Halifax I met the Premier of Nova Scotia, Russell McLelland our road team was introduced in the legislature. I also got to sit on the same chairs that Queen Elizabeth, Bill Clinton and Boris Yeltsin and the other members of the G7 used when they met in Halifax. After 18 days in Nova Scotia we boarded the ferry at Pictou, Nova Scotia and made the 45-minute crossing to Woods Island, Prince Edward Island. It’s funny how there are signs in life. When you leave Newfoundland, there is a sign to tell you it is illegal to remove potatoes from Newfoundland and when you make the crossing from Nova Scotia to Prince Edward Island there is a sign to tell you it is illegal to take honey bees onto Prince Edward Island. It underscores the need in life to pay attention to the signs in life. How often do we forget to pay attention to the signs that can have an effect on our physical well-being and how we see the world?

Walking 33-kilometres a day along the highway and seeing the red soil of PEI and all those potato fields put some of those snowy, rainy and cold days in Newfoundland in early April behind me. Islanders take a great deal of pride in their property. The island looks a bit like a giant model railroad without the train tracks. Everything seems to be in place and even those green John Deere tractors with the yellow rims look like they have been placed there just to look pretty. Pride of ownership is very evident on Prince Edward Island. In Charlottetown, the Premier presented Jesse’s Journey with a cheque and we were given a tour of Province House where the idea of there being a Canada was first discussed in 1864. After four days on the Island, we had completed province number three and we were getting ready for another crossing of water that would take us back to the mainland, to New Brunswick and province number four.

Stay tuned. The journey continues……

20-years-ago today I reached New Glasgow, Nova Scotia on my 38th day on the road. I had arrived in North Sydney, Nova Scotia a week earlier and made my way south along the edge of Lake Bras d’Or, which is actually an inland sea, of partially fresh/salt water in the centre of Cape Breton. With the blue and white and pink and purple Lupines in bloom, I could feel I was picking up my pace with the arrival of spring. It was on one of those first few days in Cape Breton that the road team made me stop while they took some pictures at the edge of the road along the shore of Lake Bras d’Or. This was the 1,000-kilometre mark. It was a time to reflect and remember just why I am out here. We should all do that from time to time. My reasoning always became clear to me whenever I thought back to the time Jesse and I spent on the road together three years earlier. Jesse represented so many kids living a life with a clock that keeps on ticking. It underscored the need to persevere. Part of the persevering was staying with what many might think of as a boring routine. Part of that routine was the daily need to soak my feet in salt water twice a day. My friend Ed Coxworthy, whose every sentence seemed to start with the words ‘By the Jesus’ said to me, ‘By the Jesus Johnny, you got feet like pigs’ ears.’ I think it was a compliment.

Sometimes life on the motorhome was like a revolving door of people coming and going in and out of my life – and it was wonderful.
My great friend Dave Meadows, who I had known for 30 years at that time, was there in North Sydney, along with his wife Susan, to welcome me and the road team to his home province of Nova Scotia.

A few days later, on the 17th of May, just outside of New Glasgow, Nova Scotia, my good friend Rich Beharrell, a cameraman I had worked with at CFPL television in London and who now lives in Prince Edward Island, joined us along with his wife Cindy and their sons Ben and Jonathon.

On the road I thought to myself how these two dads who I had known for a long time, came along to help another father. I remember liking to think that I would do the same for them if the situation was reversed.

Who do you know who is always there for you? And in tough times, would you be there for them?

And so it went along the road as I finished another day and another 33 kilometres.

Stay tuned. The journey continues……

20-years-ago today was a good news-bad news kind of day. The bad news is the driving rain and incredibly high winds sweeping across the highway at a place called Wreck House on the west coast of Newfoundland all the way down into Port-aux-Basques, the departure point for Cape Breton. The good news is that we have completed Newfoundland, province number one in the walk across Canada.

Along the Trans-Canada Highway at Wreck House there are lots of signs that caution motorists about the dangerous winds blowing in from the ocean and down from the flat mountain tops along the coast that can blow trucks off the highway. There was a time when they used to chain railroad cars to the tracks to prevent them from blowing over.

In Port aux Basques on the last 200 yards of train track in Newfoundland, sits the “Newfie Bullet,” one of the most storied trains in Canada.

We’ve all heard stories about ‘bullet’ trains in Japan and China moving at more than 300 kilometres per hour. The Newfie Bullet – not so much.

There was a gentler time in Newfoundland when, if you wanted to pick berries or flowers, the Bullet would stop. And, if you were a fisherman or hunter, you didn’t have to go to the station. Just stand by the side of the tracks and the Bullet would stop and pick you up.

Newfoundlanders like to tell the story about the woman who gave birth on board the Newfie Bullet.

When the conductor looked at her and said “Madam, you shouldn’t have been traveling in your condition.” The woman looked up at the conductor and said simply, “I wasn’t pregnant when I got on this train!”

And so it went as I finished another 33 kilometres on road. I spent the evening of Day 29 trying to dry out a lot of wet clothing. The morning call was set for 5:00 a.m. with about 250 more days to go.

I learned in Port aux Basques that humour can go a long way in helping you persevere in tough times. No matter how difficult the road, I hope you find a little something to make you smile (maybe even laugh out loud) each and every day. It makes the journey easier.

Stay tuned. The journey continues……

20-years-ago today was my 24th day on the road and I had reached Stephenville, Newfoundland after passing through Corner Brook on the more mountainous western side of Newfoundland. At one-time Stephenville was the largest United States airbase in the world, not located on American soil. But that was long ago. It was raining, dark and dreary at the end of my day on the road. The highlight on the road was a transport truck driver who stopped during a break in the rain to make a donation. He said he had passed me about 50 times. This not unusual as everything from motor oil to pencils and panty hose is hauled across the island from Port Aux Basque on the west side to St. John’s on the east side of the island by a non-stop caravan of tractor trailers. The top buttons of the truck driver’s shirt were undone, and I could see he was wearing a silver cross on a chain. When I asked about what appeared to be a small cluster of diamonds in the centre of the cross, he told me they were indeed diamonds and each one represented one of his children. Before climbing back into his rig and shifting through the gears as he moved back onto the Trans-Canada Highway, he told me the diamonds came from his mother’s wedding ring Everyone has a story.

Back at Corner Brook, Newfoundland the Trans-Canada Highway rises steeply in elevation as you pass Marble Mountain. It was the first day of the lobster season and the team decided we should have lobster for dinner because along life’s road, you should reward yourself from time to time for your efforts.

At the end of the day we went to buy some lobster from a man operating a roadside stand the same as you might buy corn-on-the-cob at the roadside in Ontario in August. That’s when I asked what I thought was a pretty logical question, “How much are the lobster by the pound?” I was quickly told, “On my son, we don’t sells them by the pound, we only sells them by the each.” Pausing for just a second, I asked him, “How much are they – by the each?” And he told me, “$4.50 a pound!” I think that’s the Newfie way of saying you have buy the entire lobster!

Who is there in your life who always puts a smile on your face – and more important perhaps, who are you making smile every day?

And so it went, 33 kilometres a day, day after day, as we were getting close to completing province number one.

Stay tuned. The Journey continues…….

(Editor’s Note: Just before I write my 20-years-ago today piece, I want to thank all those who attended the anniversary gala in London on April 10th. We premiered a new documentary at that time and we had greetings from Ottawa. I am providing the links for these pieces in the hope that you will enjoy them and the greater hope that you will push my new favourite button on my computer – share! Thanks very much.)

Documentary link: https://m.youtube.com/watch?feature=youtu.be&v=MnAcsJlfqVk

Ottawa greeting link: https://youtu.be/FUMBEdUkdfo

20-years-ago today – April 26th – I started my morning with a bacon and eggs breakfast at the fire hall in Badger, Newfoundland. We slept on cots in the fire hall. Badger is pretty much in the middle of the province and about as far you can get from the ocean. It’s a struggling little pulp and paper town with high unemployment. This is the entry from my journal which I wrote at the end of the day on the road. “Today we stared poverty in the face, and it smiled back. These are people who seem to have absolutely nothing, and yet they give you everything. These faces will be with me a long time.”

Back on the Trans-Canada Highway as we left Badger, a forestry worker climbed down from the huge piece of equipment he was operating and jumped into his truck to drive up to the highway to make a donation. It’s what people do in Newfoundland.

When I passed Gander a few days earlier it was still snowing. You can get all four seasons in one day in Newfoundland, but with the RCMP behind me, I’m settling into a steady pace of 125 steps to the minute. The road crew is fitting together nicely and starting to work like a well-oiled machine. I’m thankful for everything they do each day.

Who is on your team? When was the last time you thanked them for what they do?

Stay tuned. The journey continues……

20-years-ago today it was constant rain and bitter cold as I moved along the Trans-Canada Highway, finishing my day in Glovertown, Newfoundland. It’s been a soggy week. My soaking wet wind suit has been flapping tight against my body like a flag snapping in a stiff wind. The rain is always there and eventually it just becomes a state of mind. Once your wet – your wet, so I just keep going. Inside the motor home that we have nicknamed “the Mother Ship” there’s a spider web of strings holding lots of wet socks and other clothing we are trying to dry. It’s a losing battle. Under a slate grey sky, snow covers the bleak, rocky surroundings on these early days on the road. Every now and then the sun teases us for a minute or two and that’s when Newfoundland sparkles as it puts on a show. You can see all four seasons in one day in Newfoundland. The hills along the Trans-Canada are becoming much steeper and there are dozens of waterfalls. Some are thundering right beside me and I can feel the spray. Others are so far away they that there is only silence. The end of the day on the road always brings new friends.

Tonight, there’s a colourful piece of needlepoint in the bathroom of the bed and breakfast I’m staying in tonight. It says “Mothers hold their children’s hands for only a little while…….their hearts forever.”

Today, I hope you’re enjoying the hands you are holding and remembering the hands you have let go. And I’m wondering, who is in your heart forever?

Stay tuned. The journey continues……

As I promised you, this is the first of the weekly postings as I look back at the walk across Canada that began 20 years ago today. So here we go!
This is it. Day number one in St. John’s, Newfoundland.

After seven months of training, today the distance really starts to mean something.

Looking out at the Atlantic Ocean from the little harbour at Quidi Vidi, (pronounced Kiddy Viddy) just outside St. John’s, I was thinking to myself ‘You know, it’s closer to Ireland than it is to Vancouver.’ What am I doing here? I’m not an athlete. I’m just an ordinary dad.

Ahead of me there is more than 8,000 kilometres of highway linking Canada’s east and west coasts. I thought the job would take 275 days – but that was just a ‘best guess.’
When I looked out at the Atlantic Ocean, I asked myself three things. Is this journey personally meaningful to me? Is it challenging enough? And, while I know I’m committed to this project, what happens if I don’t make it because Canada is a very big place.

When the answer to those questions came up as three green lights in my mind, I knew I was ready to go.

Is there a project in your life that you have wanted to tackle for some time? Whether it’s a little project or a really big project, what’s holding you back?

Is that project on the drawing board, and, if it isn’t – should it be?

Stay tuned. The journey continues……

20 years ago today, I was just under 40 days away from the beginning of one of the biggest challenges of my life — the walk across Canada. My goal was to raise money for research into finding a treatment and eventually a cure for Duchenne muscular dystrophy, a disease that robs parents of their most precious gift — their children.

While I was starting to shift my focus to where I would begin in St. John’s, Newfoundland, I found myself looking back at all that Jesse had accomplished in our journey across Ontario three years earlier. I hope you will share with your friends, the pictures I’ve attached from “Jesse’s Journey” in 1995.

This year on April 10th, the actual anniversary of the day the cross-Canada walk began, there is a special event planned in London. I know that seating is limited so please contact the journey office if you are interested in attending. There’s something special being unveiled that day and I will make sure that you are able to see and share in the news!

Stay tuned. The journey continues……

20 years ago today, before there was a Family Day, I was in training and I was exactly 50 days away from the start of my attempt to walk across Canada. I intended to make a difference in the lives of all those boys just like Jesse – kids who suffer from Duchenne muscular dystrophy.

Looking back at the photos I’m reminded that I was starting that walk on Jesse’s birthday, April 10th and it would be 50 years to the day that I arrived in Canada.

The black and white picture is my sister and I in Halifax as we boarded the train for Toronto, after arriving from Scotland. Along with my mom and dad, we did what thousands and thousands of people had done before us – we passed through the immigration shed at Pier 21, the gateway to becoming Canadians.

This may be a good day for you to pull out one of your photo albums and look back with pride at your family. Think of the pictures still to come.

Have a Happy Family Day

Stay tuned. There’s more to come. The Journey continues…..