Frontispiece

“It is not often that I am able to extricate myself long enough from my daily concerns to reflect upon and think about my past. This evening, I am especially reminded about my life at St. Andrew’s College, where I went to school from the age of 14 to 18. It was clearly the most important period of my life, aside from the past five years in Almonte. And, in a way, I think of both periods with much the same heart. I received today a recording of songs and instrumentals from SAC in recognition of my financial contributions over the past few years. The boys singing in the Chapel made me particularly happy. I remember those warm summer evenings (or, Spring evenings, I guess I should say). The football field, the fraternity, the hard work, the early mornings, the good Masters. It was a very rich life. Very rich. The flood of memories is almost staggering. The school ties blowing in the wind, the colours, even the smelly locker rooms. The religious backdrop is also very dear to me. How I wish that I could remember every moment in a flash. Life was so full of excitement and discovery.
St. Andrew’s was of course very sheltered from the world. But, even by comparison, I feel that Almonte is the same. I have no desire to enter into a comparative analysis of the two. I love Almonte very much. The associations which I have here are equally important to me. And everything from the morning breakfast club to the late night work at the Office make me happy.

About the Author

Born in Montreal, P.Q. on December 11, 1948. Son of Group Captain and Mrs. C. G. William Chapman of Ottawa. Mr. Chapman is senior counsel in Almonte where he has practised law for over 23 years, after having completed Articles with Macdonald, Affleck on Sparks Street in Ottawa, and the Bar Admission Course at Osgoode Hall in Toronto. He lived in the Toronto area where he attended St. Andrew's College (Aurora), graduating as an Ontario Scholar and recipient of the Headmaster's Medal, Board of Governors Medal and Lt. Governor's Award in 1967. In addition to a brief course of study at Alliance Francaise in Paris, he attended Glendon Hall of York University where he obtained his Bachelor of Arts Degree in Philosophy. Thereafter, he pursued graduate studies in law at Dalhousie University(Halifax). During his preparatory years of study (and later in law school), he was active in public speaking and debate, including Trinity College School (Port Hope), Hart House (University of Toronto) and the McGill International Debating Tournament in which his team ranked third out of 120 participants. He also won the Sir Winston Churchill Medal for Oration. His love of Almonte has included over the years active participation in many local groups, such as St. Paul's Anglican Church (Warden), Almonte Board of Management (Chairman), Business & Professional Association (President), Elizabeth Kelly Library Foundation (a founding Trustee), Local Architectural Conservation Advisory Committee (Policy and Procedure), Mississippi River Power Corporation (Director), 78th Fraser Highlanders (Ensign, Fort Glengarry Garrison), 1st Lanark Highlanders (Major - Adjutant), Mississippi Lodge No. 147, A.F. & A.M. (Master, Secretary and Historian) and Mississippi Masonic Hall Inc. (President). He has completed and published a history of the local Masonic Lodge from its Charter in 1861 to 1994. Public speaking engagements have been undertaken for local community organizations, Algonquin College (elective and credit courses) and business management seminars. He is a social member of the Mississippi Golf Club, Appleton. In addition to the company of his good friends and good food, he enjoys piano (Toronto Royal Conservatory of Music), the fine arts and his faithful French bulldog, Monroe.

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

Fourth Form at St. Andrew's (1963 - 1964)

The first little book, or diary, that I kept is one that began on December 25, 1963, the first year of my banishment to boarding school at St. Andrew's College in Aurora, Ontario at the age of fourteen. The book was one of those types that you would expect some little romantically inclined young girl to have: it had a lock (now gone) and key (also gone). The book is bound, with green, padded plastic covers (which somehow adds to the intimacy of the tome). The first few inside pages are plain and heavier quality paper than the rest (which were lined for convenience and neatness of writing). The size of the diary is really quite preposterous; it's about three and one-half inches wide and about four inches high. Hardly enough space on any one page to record anything more than the date and the temperature. But of course it did. A lot more. And not all of what it recorded is between the covers. I cannot help but note that this undertaking of keeping track of things began within months of my separation from my family, who had gone to Stockholm, Sweden, where my father (Group Captain C. G. William Chapman, D.S.O.) had been sent to the Canadian embassy as military attache in both Stockholm and Helsinki, Finland. I had always thought to myself that the accident of boarding school was more than acceptable, and that I had no visible scars for having been torn from the family at a relatively young age. In fact, I still think that is so. But there appears to be some case to be made for the loss of social fabric (at least in the first little while at the school) which compelled me to supplement the missing background with a record of my own life, a bit of wall paper to an otherwise rather bland environment (as were our rooms in Fourth House, among the more modern of the four houses for the boarders). The little green plastic-covered diary had been given to me as a Christmas gift by my sister, Linda (who was also in Stockholm, attending a school primarily for displaced foreigners, especially American). Lindy (as I call her, and she calls me "Billy") was never good at being away from home. I have a vague memory of her first attempt (while we were living in Washington, D.C. in the early 1950's) at a summer camp, which ended rather abruptly after two days absence from the nest. I, on the other hand, apparently increased the stay from two weeks to a month. Here's the first entry in the diary:

Fifth Form at St. Andrew's (1964 - 1965)

The year must have started off with a lot of excitement, because my first entry was not until November 19, 1964:

It sure has been a long time since I wrote anything in this diary. Well, I had a great summer. We went to Paris, Piza, Sardinia, Franco Champs, all of Norway, Copenhagen (where we met the Moffits before they left for Canada), and all of Sweden, too.

Upper Sixth Form at St. Andrew's (1966 - 1967)

For some reason, I stopped writing my diary in Lower Sixth Form (1965 - 1966). What I remember of the Lower Sixth Form was that I began it by taking up residence with Fred Duggan as a House Captain in MacDonald House (the Lower School). Fred was not exactly an intellectual, so that perhaps curtailed my interest in keeping a diary somewhat. As well, I was developing an increased interest in my daily tasks with other people, apart from my historical concern about my own personal undertakings. Anyway, the next entry in the little green plastic covered diary is on November 8, 1966:

First Year at Glendon Hall (1967 - 1968)

What my diary does not disclose, but what is the fact, is that my attendance at Glendon Hall of York University was largely the result of the efforts of the then Principal, Dr. Escott Reid. Dr. Reid had attended at St. Andrew's sometime in our last year to address the graduating class on the value of applying to Glendon for admission. There is no doubt that he was cultivating a breeding ground for young public servants and foreign emissaries. We found out years later that he had visited many of the other private schools on a similar mission.

Second Year at Glendon Hall (1968 - 1969)

The return to school in the Fall of the year has always been a delight to me. The delight has continued even to this day, long after I have stopped "returning to school". For me, September is a time of rejuvenation, new beginnings, excitement and expectation. On the more mundane level, I always have my annual medical examination at this time of year. In a style not unusual for this period, I report:

Third Year at Glendon Hall (1969 - 1970)

This year appears to have been the clash between the Titan forces of religion and peer groups. No doubt some of the privilege of dwelling in those regions arose from the degree of liberty one feels as the course of study draws to a close, and one is a "senior". A good deal of the entries reflect my somewhat depressed view of my environment, the people, myself, my world:

No sunshine today. A place for despair only. There was no movement; the air lay very still. The breath of lethargy fell upon the campus. February 9, 1970.

But the winner was God, to whom I continued to look for guidance and direction. To this day, I often feel that it is only through a relationship with God that the world makes sense. While I have not as yet suffered any great loss or hardship, I somehow feel that such a religious focus will be the answer to all problems, big or small.

Law School at Dalhousie University, Halifax (1970 - 1973)

Law School revitalized me in many ways. It was the first time I had been out of the Toronto area (or "Upper Canada", as it was called in the Maritimes) for many years. I was away from literally everyone I knew, and I had lots of time on my hands to think about the past and to develop in directions that amused or pleased me. There was clearly less pressure on me from others, because I had no standard to conform to, other than any I may have had for myself. It was also a lonely time, and in fact it must have got the best of me, because I reapplied to Osgoode Hall (which had previously accepted me, but I had declined) for admission and was again accepted for my second and subsequent years. However, Dean Murray Fraser specifically asked me to stay, which of course I did, and I have never regretted that decision.

Articles at Macdonald, Affleck, Ottawa (1973 - 1974)

The singular feature about Articling (at least in the days when I did it) was that you barely got paid for it. If I remember correctly, my annual salary may have approached $4,000, if that. Which meant that the luxuries of life were unattainable, and one even had to be creative about the necessities. Fortunately for me, the necessities were all I needed at that time. Having broken off my engagement with Heather in the summer after leaving Halifax, I made a not unexpected about-face which included a passionate conviction to losing weight, eating only raw foods, no drinking (though I still smoked very heavily), very little socializing, going to bed early, getting up early to bicycle as much as 150 miles a week, and the like - or the dislike, if you will! I lived in Pestallozzi College, 160 Chapel Street on the corner of Rideau Street.

The Bar Admission Course at Osgoode Hall (September, 1974 - May, 1975)

Interestingly, there is a complete gap in my diaries from the time when I finished my Articles (August, 1974) until February 5, 1976 (when I was back working at Macdonald, Affleck). Had the gap been any earlier, I probably would not remember much about it. However, my times at Osgoode Hall were largely my times at Devonshire House as a Don, and I recall those days vividly. It was like returning to boarding school, but armed with all the knowledge and wisdom I had gained about living in that sort of environment. I recall, for example, peering out the window of my ground floor suite of rooms and seeing a new student arrive at the commencement of term with his parents.

First Year of Practice at Macdonald, Affleck in Ottawa (September, 1975 - June, 1976)

I have to say that Macdonald, Affleck did in fact give me my “fifteen minutes of fame” to which Andy Warhol purportedly said each of us is entitled or destined. That fame came in the form of an appearance before not only the Federal Court of Appeal, but also the Supreme Court of Canada (Appeal Division). To set the stage, there were twenty-five lawyers, all of whom (except me) wore a silk gown. Mine was a “stuff” gown. The reason at that time that I did not have a silk gown was that only those who had been given the honour of a Queen’s Counsel designation from either the Federal or Provincial Governments were entitled to “take silk”; and, only those who had practised for no less than ten years were even qualified for consideration a Queen’s Counsel appointment. I, on the other hand, was only in my first year of practice.

Law Practice at Galligan and Sheffield in Almonte (June 7, 1976 - February 28, 1978)

The upheaval of moving from Ottawa to Almonte clearly consumed a lot of my time and energy. There was so much to do, including finding a place to live, buying my first dog (“Lannie”, a yellow labrador), getting settled into the law practice (which primarily involved dealing with all the neglected files of Galligan and Sheffield), meeting new people, making new friends and coming to terms with being somewhat isolated in an Ottawa Valley village. My first entry in a diary after leaving Ottawa in June of 1976 was almost a year later on July 5, 1977:

Setting Up Private Practice of Law in Almonte (March 1, 1978)

On March 1st, 1978, I opened my own office for the Practice of Law.
My association with Galligan & Sheffield was terminated quickly, with a minimum of negotiation. I bought back from them everything that they had bought from Raymond Jamieson, except his files. The biggest asset that I have now is the books (which I have, already, added to considerably).
While my daily business has not really changed that much, I have to admit that there is something special about being on my own. In fact, it has given me a freedom which I do not yet fully appreciate. Naturally, there is a greater sense of responsibility. But the best part of it, is that I have removed from my life all concern that every employee who is worth his salt must have about advancement. It’s now a question of survival, and degrees.

James R. McGregor, Deceased

One of the first truly “business” type of encounters I remember is meeting James R. McGregor, known to his friends as “Jimmy”. Jimmy, who was a native of Almonte, had most recently climbed his way out of the mines in Sudbury, and decided he was never going back down. Instead, he and his wife, Nancy, with children from his first and second marriage, headed off for Almonte, where he was born, to enter the real estate business (and I understand from having talked to local real estate entrepreneurs that Jimmy’s presence was not viewed without concern, from a competitive point of view). I met Jimmy in Raymond’s old office. It was an encounter that I somehow felt must have been based upon a template from the past, for I had been told by Raymond that he had advised Albert Gale, the well known real estate agent who had founded the company bearing his name. Albert, like Jimmy, didn’t have a lot of education, but they were equally determined and clever. I had heard a story about Albert that, when he was standing in a potato field one day, he saw a man in a large black Cadillac come up to the farmer in the neighbouring field, sign some papers, then drive away.

The Work Ethic

On March 11, 1979 I wrote:
It appears that I am falling into the trap which confronts most private businessmen; namely, I am becoming entirely preoccupied with my work, and it is beginning to look as though I do not have any other activities to amuse me. The horrible thing about work is that it doesn’t go away unless you do it. So, I naturally end up at the office more often than I would prefer.

The Superior Restaurant

It would be impossible for me to speak about Almonte without mentioning the Superior Restaurant. It was the first restaurant I visited when I began working in Almonte (that is, apart from the Mississippi Golf Club in Appleton where Mike Galligan, Alan Sheffield and I had met to discuss the possibility of my employment). And I quite distinctly remember that when I walked through the door of the Superior and took my place at the counter (which I am wont to do particularly when I am eating alone), I was greeted by the very friendly face of Mrs. Gladys Currie. “Gladdy”, as she is popularly known, is probably the senior waitress at the “Soup” (as the restaurant is called), and she continues to work there to this day, though a less rigorous schedule. Gladys is good for business, not only because she is cheerful and constantly bubbling, but she positively encourages people to enjoy the pleasures of the restaurant, which for me meant the raisin pie (after having had soup and a sandwich). This was the beginning of a life-long love affair with the Soup:

L. C. Audette, O.C., Q.C.

The odd thing about Louis Audette is that, as much time as we spent together over the twenty years or so I knew him (from about 1973 until his death around 1995 at the age of 87), I reckon that neither of us would, if pressed, have much to say about one another. It is rather like talking about one’s relatives at length - not normal or usual in the ordinary course. Certainly, after a couple of drinks, given the right stimuli from the current conversation, memories of him would surface, usually in a humourous vein, but I cannot honestly say that we had a “close” relationship. We just got along and more or less tolerated one another’s inadequacies, which seemed to have been painfully obvious to each of us respectively, for at least as long as it took to have numerous drinks and dinner (and then more numerous drinks):

Getting Settled

While I probably have a passion for that Norman Rockwell picture-perfect view of middle class life, I have always harboured the idea that, because of my nomadic childhood, it was imperative for me to develop some kind of home-life.
And when I was asked if I intended to stay in Almonte, I replied yes. And the response was didn’t I think that I would get bored with it. Perhaps it was more of a reflection upon the person who asked the question. I was taken aback by the question. It has never occurred to me to leave Almonte. I have left enough places in my lifetime, and I don’t think that I could do it all over again. Anyway, I don’t have the desire to go anywhere else that would be as good for me. I’ve got too much into this place, and I love it, frankly. March 15, 1981.