Jim’s Van

Marie and Jim were close friends of my parents for many years of my childhood. They lived in some great houses, mostly somewhere on the outskirts of the city. I remember visiting them in Cumberland just a stone’s throw from the ferry to Masson. They also lived in Carlsbad Springs, which I thought was the coolest place name ever. I mixed it up, in my child’s mind, with Carlsberg Beer so somehow thought this was where that beer was made. Marie was gentle natured, blushed easily, and laughed loudly at every joke Jim made, and he was ALWAYS joking. He was gregarious, outgoing, and always interested in talking to us kids about whatever was going on in our lives. They were younger than my parents, maybe by 10 years or so, and they had a really great record collection so I considered them to be pretty cool people.

I once borrowed all of Jim’s Bob Dylan records when my grade 6 teacher proposed to teach us an English lesson using the lyrics of Blowing in the Wind. I was so proud to bring those records to class. The teacher, Mlle Boivin, was ecstatic and started to animatedly tell the class about all of Bob Dylan’s important activist folk songs. She played Like a Rolling Stone and the class sat dumbfounded and silent. Finally someone said what we were all thinking: does he actually make a living singing with a voice like that?

The summer of ‘76 we spent some evenings visiting Marie and Jim. I remember one evening watching the Montreal Olympics at their place and obsessing over Nadia Comaneci, the Romanian gymnast who was the first to score perfect 10s. I was interrupted at this point because there was some commotion that an important condiment or ingredient was needed for our supper. It would seem none of the grownups were in any condition to drive. Jim cheerfully suggested that I drive his van into town. I was terrified at the idea. I was only 13 and had no clue how to drive. I looked to my parents for a signal of how I should react. Of course Kelly can’t drive, they explained to Jim, she doesn’t have a driver’s license. Oh it’s so easy Jim insisted, it practically drives itself, handing me the keys, all smiles. I did not reach out to take them. Somehow we resolved the situation without my needing to take the wheel of an old van at the end of the long gravel driveway in the countryside of Carlsbad Springs. My younger siblings were disappointed as they really wanted to see me give it a go. Many years later after Marie and Jim had divorced and we no longer visited, my mom told me that Marie had finally ended the marriage due to Jim’s alcoholism. Remember that time he wanted you to drive his van when you were just 13, she asked.