Introduction

Sepia
by L. G. William Chapman, B.A., LL.B.
An Anecdotal Look at my Life based upon my Diaries, Personal Journals and Fading Memories.

SEPIA
by L. G. William Chapman, B.A., LL.B.

An Anecdotal Look at my Life
based upon my Diaries, Personal Journals and Fading Memories.

Dedicated to my loving sister, Linda who gave me the first of many diaries on which these tales are based.

Perhaps I've always felt like the luckiest guy in the world, but I do believe I am.

Diary of L. G. William Chapman, January 1, 1990.

4 Laura Crescent ALMONTE, Ontario K0A 1A0
October 6, 1997

Introduction

I've always thought that what I had was great. Now, let me explain. I don't mean to say that I am great, but rather I thought whatever I had was great. Whatever life had given me was great, that's the point. Whether it was my first little house in Almonte where I began practicing law, or my first car (a Ford Mustang with "four-on-the-floor") that my father bought me when I graduated from Osgoode Hall, or even the old dormitories at St. Andrew's College where I began my first significant and memorable intellectual and emotional experiences at the age of fourteen years. And just in case my luck turns sour, I thought I'd better write about the past half-century before I either run out of time, or my attitude changes.

Writing in fact is something I have always liked to do. My friend Charles Crichton once said of me that my writing fulfills a sense of personal history. While I like the general tone of the observation, I'm not really sure what it means. And rather than analyze it at all, I can simply say that for me writing is right up there with playing the piano, practicing law, eating and drinking. I hardly need advance an apology for the quality of the writing. As far as that goes, it's right up there with the quality of all those other things I mentioned. But that does not detract from the entertainment (or whatever it is) I derive from the process.

When I told my friend (and one-time piano teacher) Mrs. Marion Graham in Almonte, that I was writing the story of my life, she asked whether it was fact or fiction. I replied that it was fact, but that I wasn't disclosing all the facts, since I didn't think other people would really be that interested in all the facts, to which she replied they didn't deserve to know them anyway. Again, while I may like the tone of the observation, I'm not convinced that she is right. A book of this sort has to be more than sharing your laundry with others. It has to be an honest and hopefully meaningful rendition of one's own little universe. While each of us (with the exception of the heros and great minds of society) may think that our lives are rather common-place, it is nonetheless clear that the individual experience can provide some amusement, perhaps interest and maybe even instruction.

Before I get on with it, let me simply say that for the most part what you are about to read is based upon diaries or journals which I kept from the time I was a teenager until my adult life. I filled about 15 or 16 books of various sizes, some very small, others quite large and manageable by comparison, most hand-written, and some typed (but none on a computer - just an old Smith Corona my mother used to own). And let me assure you, if ever there is a question, that unless you are quite different from me, you do not remember things today the way they were yesterday. More than once, upon reading these ancient transcripts, I marvelled at how much of what I recorded I had forgotten, or had modified for some reason or another. It's much like the feeling we no doubt have when we go back to the home where we grew up as a child, and discover that the place or things about it are not as big as we remember. Time not only heals all, it also distorts a good deal. To this extent, my records have permitted me to capture what happened over thirty years ago.