Monday, February 28, 2011

Reg.#1470, Constable James Marshall, NWMP

'Friends Not Forgotten'

Reg.#1470, Constable James Marshall, NWMP

This photo of NWMP Constable Marshall was sent in by retired Reg.#21009, Don Marshall.

According to files from recently deceased Jack White, Cst. James Marshall joined the Force in Saint John, NB in 1885. He saw action during the Riel Rebellion, then purchased his discharge in 1896. After the NWMP, James Marshall turned to farming.

He left his name to the Marshall Ranch situated on Highway # 18 a few miles east of Big Beaver, SK. This was also the site of 'The Big Muddy Detachment' and the cairn dedicated to the Last Mounted Police Horse Patrol named also for James Marshall, NWMP. 

He is the uncle of Reg.#10725, William Henry Marshall (died 1966) and a grand uncle of Reg.#19043, Douglas Frederick Willliam Marshall (died 2006) and Reg.#21009, retired Donald Ralph Marshall

'Maintain Our Memories'

J. J. Healy,

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Last Post: Reg.#19256, A/Comm'r. S. H. 'Fred' Schultz

'Friends Not Forgotten'

 Reg.#19256 and 0.761,
A/Commissioner S. H. 'Fred' Schultz

Schultz, Siegfried "Fred" Assistant Commissioner RCMP - Retired:  At home, on Saturday, February 26, 2011 at age 74. Beloved husband of Frances (nee Currie).

Loving father of Paul (Ruth), Craig (Shelly) and Stephanie. Cherished grandfather of Amanda, Adam, Rebekah, Maya, Samantha, Hayley and Justin. Loving brother of Elsie Hickey (George), Gordon (Anne) and predeceased by sister Elizabeth Saunders.

Will be lovingly remembered by Douglas Currie, Joan and John Leger and their families and many friends, nieces and nephews. Special thanks to Dr. William Splinter and the Palliative Care Unit.

Friends are invited to visit at the Central Chapel of Hulse, Playfair & McGarry, 315 McLeod Street, (at O'Connor), Ottawa, on Tuesday, March 1 from 3-7 pm. A Service to Celebrate Fred's Life will be held in the Chapel on Wednesday, March 2 at 1pm. In lieu of flowers, contribution in memory may be made to Ottawa Regional Cancer Foundation or a charity of choice.

Credit: Vets, Ottawa Div.

Note: Fred joined the Force in 1956 and he retired in 1990.

'Maintain Our Memories'

J. J. Healy

Saturday, February 26, 2011

In Memory of Reg.#16721, C/Supt. J. W. 'Jack' White

'Friends Not Forgotten'

Reg.#16721 and Reg.#0.795 Chief Superintendent J. W. 'Jack' White

John Wesley 'Jack' White was a member of the Force who deeply enjoyed researching and recording its history. He was an distinguished author and a Force historian of renown. He was also a friend.

Jack White enjoyed a long career in the Force. He was born on January 1, 1931 in Edmonton, AB. He joined the Force on November 3, 1950 and he served in provinces on both coasts of Canada. He was a remarkable police officer.

His policing reputation was built upon his solid investigational knowledge and skills. At twelve years service he was involved in a 1962 shootout with a fugitive in Kamloops, BC. The fugitive had shot and killed three RCMP members. In turn, Jack shot and killed the still armed fugitive.

Jack was a private person and he did not boast. Many years ago, I asked Jack to help me write his autobiography. I was referring to his personal account of the 1962 shooting. At first, we laughed that age was catching up on all of us -- I said: 'perhaps it was time to record our lives'. I suspected Jack's response as he turned me down -- he said; 'Joe, there's been nothing spectacular in my career'. He did not want to talk about 1962 and I did not press him. He held his memories and his personal feelings inside.

Jack's health sufferd in the last few years. Nevertheless, he continued to work on his history projects. Jack  preferred not to leave a personal story, but he left a public memorable legacy in his remarkable research on the history of the Force and its members.  

Jack died last week in Kamloops, BC. His funeral was private.

Good-bye Jack

'Maintain Our Memories'

J. J. Healy

My thanks to Vet. Don Klancher and Vet Sheldon Boles for the photograph of Jack.

Friday, February 25, 2011

From an Infant Force; the NWMP

From an Infant Force;
Reg.# 1942, J. H. G. Parker
of the North West Mounted Police

This tale in from 'E' Div. Vet. Don Klancher.

One day, Reg.# 1942, John Hendrick George Parker was born in St. Andrew, QC. He joined the NWMP on May 5, 1887. After a short stint, he quit on April 21, 1888.

After he left the Force, John Parker moved to Butte, MT, where he drove a six-horse team which hauled freight for the silver mines.

A year or two later, he returned to Winnipeg, MB around 1891. John Parker began working for Northern Pacific Railway; then Canadian Northern Railway and finally, the Canadian National Railway. He began his 41-year career as an engine wiper; worked his way up to locomotive engineer and later, a traveling engineer.

When Mr.Parker retired, he was Superintendent of Motive Power for the CNR (Western Region). He also served a term as Chairman of the Canadian Brotherhood of Engineers.

Reg.#1942, John H. G. Parker is buried in Old Kildonan Cemetery in Winnipeg, MB

The snap from Don Klancher of John Parker was taken in Winnipeg in 1910.

Thanks Don!

'Maintain Our Memories'

J. J. Healy

Thursday, February 24, 2011

In Memory of Reg.#20480, Corporal M. R. Slavik


'Friends Not Forgotten' 

Reg.#20480, Corporal Milan Roy Slavik

Milan Roy Slavik was born in Taber, AB on February 16, 1939. He joined the Force in 1958. After training, he was posted to 'E' Division.

Cpl. Slavik died on July 28, 1971 in Shaughnessy Hospital, Vancouver, BC while serving the Force. He had been stationed with the Prince Rupert Sub/Division at Prince Rupert, B.C.

Cpl. Slavik is buried in Vancouver, BC

The memorable photo above was submitted by Reg.#17397, John Slavik, brother to Milan Slavik.

'Maintain Our Memories'

J. J. Healy

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Last Post: Reg. No. 16721 / O. 795, C/Supt. J. W. White


C/Supt. John 'Jack' Wesley White, Rt'd

'Friends Not Forgotten' 

This notice was received today from 'E' Div. Vet. Don Klancher.

Reg. No. 16721 / O. 795, C/Supt. {ret'd} John Wesley {Jack} White died at Kamloops, BC in the early hours of February 22, 2011.

No further details are available at this time.


'Maintain Our Memories'

J. J. Healy

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Last Post : Reg.#17515, Donald James Willson


Donald James Willson

'Friends Not Forgotten'

Reg.# 17515, Donald James Willson, S/Sgt. RCMP Retired - Peacefully on February 20th, 2011. Much loved husband of Elaine, father of Susan, Laura (deceased), David (Mary Anne) and Paul.

Grandpa of Richard Coxford (France), Michael Coxford (Ceilidhe), Andrew Willson, and Katie Willson. Great-Grandpa of Emma Coxford. Loving and kind, gentle and caring, he will be missed always by all.

Private family arrangements.

'Maintain Our Memories'

J. J. Healy,

A Magnificent, Monumental, Memorable Mystery

An Exciting Mystery -- Read Part One

 See 'Vet of the Month' On The Home Page
Scroll down to March, 2011
One Canadian Story - Seven Exciting Parts

Begins Tomorrow : February 23, 2011

'Maintain Our Memories'

J. J. Healy

Sunday, February 20, 2011

A Magnificent, Monumental, Memorable Mystery

Truth speaks

A man should listen to his wife. This ought to be a firm, uncontested Canadian law. The Supreme Court should deliberate only for a moment on the issue. Then rule on the matter. Let it be enshrined. Glorified, so to speak. Firm, unfettered, fixed and as noble as the Charter. An ideal. A Canadian first.

I should listen to my wife. It's a jest that unquestionably but truly applies to me. I know when I'm in trouble. It's easy because I depend regularly on her to fix the mess which I've created. On a minor level, a button requires mending as I'm about to leave for a Mess Dinner.  My wife would say: 'you've only known about this for a year because the Mess Dinner falls on the same date every year!'

Here's another one. It's time for Mansbridge and the nine. I've got a seven o'clock T-off in the morning. My wife asks if I remembered to fill the tank in my CRV?  No, but I do recall noticing the gauge very low earlier in the week. Faster than Superwoman, she's off to fetch some petro. My wife. Always forgiving. Always fixing.

Now it's about February 20th, 2011. I intended to write a Magnificant, Momunental, Memorable Mystery.  I had announced that I would publish it by February 23 as that date falls in line with May 23 which is the anniversary of the Force.

My wife attended the University of Western Ontario. She majored in English, French and History. She's a whizz. Knows all about the hollow horse trick. Can't stick her on Greek wars. She can name all the Generals. Knows every street in Rome. She also knows how to spell.

Over the long weekend, my wife notices a little wrinkle in my brow. Asks what's wrong? So, I happen to mention that I'd like to write a mystery. It's due in forty eight hours. As I've said, I know when I'm in trouble. Too late for help from my wife as she has exams to mark.

I've got to appeal for more time. One wouldn't think that a mystery would be that difficult. I know I need a plot and I thought I had one -- The Mystery of the Missing Police Dog. But, my wife pointed out that most police dogs rarely go missing. After all, she explained, a police dog has a trained, very sensitive snout. 'Give it more in depth thought', she instructed. Think.  

Little weeny, weeny girls never seem to forget. I have a niece. When she was a little girl she would ask me to tell her scary stories -- mystery police stories - - preferably scary ones just before bed. I had a favourite. I had to use my imagination. An alligator had caught me in the deep swamps in Namibia where I had once worked. I had to fight the alligator. At one point he ate both my arms. Her eyes got bigger and bigger. He got my legs too! As my niece grew older, her questions about the alligator became more complex. How, for example, do you explain your wedding ring and your university rings which remain on your fingers? Smart kid, eh?

So now, I'm back to my mystery. My wife can't help me. I've learned that it takes more time than I've allowed. Guess I won't be sleeping for a few days. I sure need something by the 23rd.

I should have listened to my wife. Oh, well.

'Maintain Our Memories'

J. J. Healy

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Mr. Jazz, RCMP Commissioner William J. S. Elliott and trust

A little story

Marriage is defined by particular rules in society. The sharing of love, the begetting of children, the sharing of property. Shared values between the couple are important. Trust is one which comes to mind. 

Every married person whom I've ever met can quickly identity the single thing which brings them closer as a couple. Some people say it's close communications. Others say it's an inner beauty which is hard to define.

The one thing that I've always admired about my wife is her total trust in me. Trust of the other rates pretty high as a quality in a successful marriage. Trust and honesty are but one and the same. Trust fuses one to the other in marriage.  Honesty in marriage allows each spouse to share intimate feelings.

But, marriage also allows for exceptions. Rules that keep a marriage together are not air tight. There's an ebb and a flow in marriage. I'm sure that I am not the first to recognize 'the exceptions rule' in marriage. In law school, professors place high priority on the 'exceptions rule' beginning with Happy Marriages 100.  I'm very, very grateful for the 'exceptions rule' in our marriage. I'm overjoyed that it's permitted. To put this notion of 'exception' into context, let me say it has saved me more than once. I can even provide some examples.

Years ago, my wife decided that she wanted to go shopping at a popular mall in Ottawa. I thought it was was a reasonable request.  I offered to drive. What's there to lose with another coffee?

As I'm sipping my Tall Bold, I spot world famous pianist Oscar Peterson. I had seen him perform several times in Toronto. And, I know the Big 'O' when I see him. I had read in the jazz rag that he'd been sick. On this occasion, he was in a wheelchair and he was being cared for by a nurse. I jive over and introduce myself. Oscar and I bond. He's got warm hands. Can easily grab a 'tenth'. And, he's got the warmest soul. Always smiling. In love with the world. Over the years, the entire world had bonded with Mr. 'P'.  

Earlier, I had said that my wife completely trusts me. I'm about to test my hypothesis. So, I ask Mr. 'P' if he'll be patient. Sure, what's up? I run into the store to grab my wife. She occupied with jeans. No, she can't come with me as she has another fitting or two. I beg, plead and nearly cry. I'm thinking; 'what about trust'? Finally, she recognizes my torture so she gives in. I introduce her to Mr. 'P'.  Kindness all over. Just as they said in the books which have been written about him. Knows the keyboard too.  My wife is smitten. Jazz has gained respectability in our home. Trust is back. Mr. 'P's in heaven. I trust Him.

Now, it's mid February 2011. We're on the train about to leave Ottawa. Sitting ahead of us is a man I also recognize. One could say he's a famous Canadian.  Might be unusual but he's got no body guards apart from his wife. I'm not sure if he's armed. I had met him several times on a casual basis. But, I'm retired. My wife is occupied with her book --- something to do with food and fine dining.  We're bound for 'nowhere' just another city near Ontario. 

Cathy and I have been married for about fourteen years, so I can read her mind. I thought about my wife's 'trust' in me. I also thought about the best time to invoke another 'trust' hypothesis. My wife needs time to digest. Timing is precious in an operation such as this. For timing to work, one has to build upon trust. I decide to forgo introductions with the man until we're at our destination.

The man doesn't realize that he and his wife are being 'tailed'. I tell my wife the identity of the 'man'. At first she's in disbelief. Momentarily lacks trust. 

After a few minutes, the man and his wife stall to look around in the new railway station. I nudge my wife and we walk over.  I introduce myself to remind him of my name. He greets my wife warmly and he introduces us to his wife.  She too welcomes us warmly. We mix up some small talk with the other couple. They are very relaxed. And, there's no fright on our part.

Finally, I know it's time to break away. My wife say's it first. It's been a pleasure to meet you 'Commissioner Elliot'.  The Commissioner shook hands with both of us. Mrs Elliott did also.

My wife and I were silent for awhile. She's thinking. Cathy then said; 'I can't believe that I just met the RCMP Commissioner. He's very polite'.

Sure did Sweetheart, trust me. 

'Maintain Our Memories'

J. J. Healy,

Friday, February 18, 2011

Debate: The dead have a right to speak

Debate: The dead have a right to speak

'Friends Not Forgotten'

There's no question there remains alot of mystic about the dead. It's time to get over it. The dead have been shrouded in mystery since the beginning of time and in every country, in very culture. Some say they can communicate with the dead from the other side -- note that 'the other side's' location is not clearly defined. I've always wondered about 'the other side' and today its location or geography remains very vague.

I recall certain incidents involving the dead when I was young. My father was well known in St. Stephen, NB and he had many, many friends. It seemed to me that he went to one funeral or another every week or so. From about the time that I was six years of age, my dad would ask if I was interested to tag along for an evening prayer service. This was my chance to introduce myself, say a few words quietly to the deceased and bid him or her adieu.

In the early stages of this custom, my father promised that the deceased would likely not rise up. At least, he said he had never seen it happen. That was good enough for me. His promise gave me solid assurance.

So, I got climatized to being around deceased persons from a very early age. And, as I grew, I did not feel particularily nervous. Mind you, there was alot of teasing among my pals about the degree of trust in the promises given to me by my father -- I did not, for example, volunteer to spend a night in the local cemetery. I loved my dad, but I knew my limits.

Over the past several years, I've been dedicated to finding and listing our deceased members of the Force in the National Database. Seems innocent enough and naturally I trusted all the volunteers to give me good data. In fact, I would be hard pressed to recall any mistakes or errors in the data given to me by our wonderful volunteers.

Well, maybe I can think of one case. Not long ago, I began to receive messages from a family in Alberta. Years ago, they had been friends with a member who had been posted to their town. They saw saw his name on the database and they felt very, very sad. The family told me about all their fond memories of the Vet and how he had almost become a member of their family. The daughters loved him. They even recalled his nickname. I accepted their condolences. Sad, I said, eh?

A few weeks later, I received a call from the 'deceased'.  He had been told that Healy had him listed dead. The 'deceased' Vet told me that he was truly not deceased but I had listed him listed in the database along with a photo of his grave marker. His conversation turned to humor and I was very grateful as I had not intended to offend him. Or, to scare his wife. I quickly deleted his name off the database.

I can react quickly for the presumed dead. But, in this case, I was actually speaking with a Vet whom I presumed was dead. Afterall, I had him listed. I had been sent his name plus the photo. Guess, the devil was messing around with me.

I called the family in Alberta. After a short story, I apologized for my error. They were generously relieved to be told that their friend was not deceased. I provided them with the Vet's phone number. They intended to renew their friendship.

In this case, I'm thankful the 'deceased ' spoke up. We've shook hands. He's as warm as a summer day.

Close call for me, eh?

'Maintain Our Memories'

J. J. Healy,

Thursday, February 17, 2011

A Collection of Memories by retired RCMP S/Sgt. Fred Rasmussen

I have received a copy of retired Fred Rasmussen's colorful book; 'A Collection of Memories: My Life with Horses.

It's a fascinating read and it easily brings back memories including the incidents, smells and long hours which we spent in the stables. At that time, Corporal Rasmussen was one of the Roughriders along with Sgt. Harry Armstrong, Cpl. Dee Jessiman and many others.

There's an old saying; 'One doesn't appreciate what we have until it's gone'. It's honestly the way I feel about our equitation program in the 1960's and the skills which the program offered and taught us. I wish I had had more time to understudy with S/Sgt. Rasmussen. It seems to me now that he held more knowledge about horses in one of his fingers than I could ever, ever know. He is an inspiration. In the saddle, S/Sgt. Rasmussen was an erect and a graceful rider. The horse seemed relaxed yet obedient under his care.

Most of the riding experiences at 'Depot' had to do with the Riding Staff -- each one had their distinct personality. Cpl. Rasmussen was widely known as an expert horseman with a velvet touch -- highly skilled after many, many years around horses. It's the reason that he was so much involved in the training of various horses presented to the Queen.

I didn't know much about S/Sgt. Rasmussen's life and background until I read his book. At about eighty-six of age, he continues to pursue his passion with horses. He's a better man for it. It has kept him young. Fred Rasmussen is to be congratulated. His collection of photos with all our famour stallions will stir you.

His book can be purchased directly from Fred at: Box 1004, Tofield, AB. TOB 4JO. Fifty quid will do it.


'Maintain Our Memories'

J. J. Healy,

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Last Post: Reg.#0.1758, Roger St. Martin


Superintendent Roger Albert St. Martin
'Friends Not Forgotten'

This obituary from the Vets, Ottawa Div.

Suddenly at home on Monday, February 14, 2011, Roger Albert St. Martin of Oxford Mills, age 60. Cherished son of Eva St. Martin (nee Paquette) and the late Rene). Beloved husband of Jean St. Martin (nee Taylor). Loving father of Julie St. Martin (Chris St. Martin), Mary St. Martin (Matthew Messinger), Nicole St. Martin and Anne St. Martin. Adored grandfather of Keaton, Justine and Maxwell.

Dear brother of Raymond (Marie Anne), Simone (Mark Fitzpatrick), Yvon (Linda), Florine (Ken Atkins), Marcel and Susie St. Martin (Paul). Visitation will be held at Grant Brown Funeral Home Rolston Chapel, Kemptville on Friday, February 18th from 2 to 4pm and 7 to 9pm. Funeral to St. Ann Roman Catholic Church, Merrickville on Saturday, February 19th at 11am for Mass of Christian Burial. Interment Beechwood Cemetery, Ottawa. Those who wish may make memorial donations to the Heart and Stroke Foundation or the Canadian Cancer Society.

Supt. St. Martin joined the Force in 1975. He served in 'HQ', 'A' & 'HQ' Div. he had retired in 2009.
His Reg.#33019.

'Maintain Our Memories'

J. J. Healy

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

The Mystery behind a Mystery Story


A Magnificent, Monumental, Memorable Mystery

The fright of a blank page. I recall my high school days of long ago. Perhaps I ought to have paid more attention at the appropiate time. But now, the teacher has placed an English exam on my desk.

I figure, it's basic. Every teacher issues a warning not to peek until the word is given. Increases nervousness. Sweaty palms. Tension. Finally, all together, I am allowed to turn the exam over. Sure, the fright of the blank page equals the fear in my mind. Where do I begin? After what seems like a thousand hours, I finish. Didn't seem to bad but the other kids have submitted more pages than me. Oh well, time for hockey.

Today, publishers are forever searching the Canadian landscape for new authors. Good authors with a story. Afterall, the need for a good mystery remains high. Unusually high retainers are no problem if the publisher forecasts huge sales. Christmas is around the corner. Wealth is the soulmate of capitalism. A little competition never hurts. In capitalism, if there's more wealth to go around everyone can be happy.

Now, I'm trying my hand at writing a mystery. A Magnificent, Monumental, Memorable Mystery. I'd like to catch the imagination of Canadians. Distraction will help those who find winter too long. Boring snow. Dull.

I see a hugh task ahead. Writing does hurt the brain. First, I have to come up with something original. But, it's all been done. I need a plot. Plots are over used -- I can't imagine something apart from the big three; sex, money, unfaithfulness? Murder is far too common.

I need a hook. Perhaps something plausible. Just try it. It's harder than you can imagine.

A good mystery might lead to fame. Unlikely.

If I ever get this off the launch pad, it will be dedicated to all RCMP deceased Vets. They deserve it.

For the time being, I'm looking at a blank page.

'Maintain our Memories'

J. J. Healy

In Memory of a pup 'Pilot' and Reg.#12807, L. C. Caswey


'Friends Not Forgotten'

Reg.#12807, S/Sgt. Lorne Campbell Caswey
in photo here with PSD 'Dale'

Reg.#12807, S/Sgt. Lorne Campbell Cawsey was born in 1917 and he joined the Force in 1935. He was the son of Reg.#11462, Sgt. John Nicholson Cawsey who purchased the first Police Service Dog 'Dale' and then became the first Police Service Dog Master in the Force.

Father and son distinguished themselves honourably in the RCMP and the Police Service Dog Section.

Vet Jack White tells this memorable story about the son, S/Sgt. Lorne Cawsey. Juliana of the Netherlands was living in Ottawa during World War II. At one point she lost a valuable piece of jewellery.

Meanwhile, Police Service Dog 'Dale' had some pups. One pup was 'Pilot' and his master was S/Sgt. Lorne C. Cawsey.

On one occasion, S/Sgt. Lorne Cawsey and 'Pilot' distinguished themselves by finding a $10,000 brooch lost in an Ottawa park which was owned by Princess Juliana of the Netherlands.  

Photo credit: Supt. Brian Brennan, OIC Federal Policing, Halifax, NS

'Maintain Our Memories' 

J. J. Healy

Monday, February 14, 2011

From Florida : Reg.#2683, Cst. William John McCoy


Family from Florida
'Friends Not Forgotten'

Hi Buffalo Joe,

I read in the Lanark Co. Genealogical Society Newsletter of your dedication to finding and documenting the location of all deceased RCMP veterans. Thank you so much for undertaking such a mammoth task.

My husband's grandmother's brother was William John McCoy and I found him in the Graves Database. The new info there of the Quarterly Obit Index number V34 (3), his Rank - Constable, and his Regimental No. - 2683 was very nice to find.

I have his birth date and place, his death date and place, and the place where he was buried if you are interested. I also have his spouse's name, parents' names and children's names. He died when he was 98 and at that time (1967) he was supposedly the oldest ex member of the North West Mounted Police.

Please let me know if you would like the above info and I will send it to you.

Jackie Dixon
Florida, USA

'Maintain Our Memories'

J. J. Healy,

Friday, February 11, 2011

In Memory of Reg.#4385, Sergeant Kenneth John Murison


'Friends Not Forgotten'

Sergeant Kenneth John Murison

Sergeant Kenneth John Murison was born in London, England in 1886. He came to Canada and he joined the RNWMP on May 13, 1905.  He took his discharge on January 31, 1912.

Sergeant Murison is buried in the Rosedale Cemetery, Moose Jaw, SK.

Credit, notes and photo: 'E' Div. Vet. Don Klancher

'Maintain Our Memories'

J. J. Healy,

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Reg.#20731, S/Sgt. T. S. K. Brown

'Friends Not Forgotten'

'Tommy' Brown doesn't need an introduction. 
He was a guy that everyone knew. If you lived, you knew Tom.

S/Sgt. Tom Brown joined the Force in 1959 and he retired in 1995.

I didn't knew 'Tom' extremely well while we were posted to 'O' Div. But, I happended to met him purely by accident in a foreign country. We talked and I got to know Tom better. Glad I did.

Tommy died in Oakville, Ontario in November, 2010.

'Maintain Our Memories'

J. J. Healy

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Last Post: Reg.#27093, Corporal P. M. Gardiner

Friends Not Forgotten

Toronto Vet Jack O'Reilly reports the death of Cpl. Philip Gardiner on February 7, 2011 at the Credit Valley Hospital, Mississauga, ON.

Reg.#27093, Cpl. Gardiner joined the Force in 1969. His career was spent between 'E'  Div. Security Service and over to CSIS in 1984.

Cpl. Gardiner was a Member of the Toronto Div. Vets. Funeral arrangements have not yet been announced.

'Maintain Our Memories'

J. J. Healy

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

In Memory of 0.657, Supt. 'Bram' Smith - Director, RCMP Band


Superintendent Bramwell Smith,
RCMP Band Director 1967 to 1974

Only RCMP Officer buried in Arlington Cemetery, Virginia, USA

'Friends Not Forgotten'

Preamble: Scripting a blog each day sometimes takes an hour. Thinking stretches my grey matter. Afterall, I need a fresh topic plus building blocks. I can rest today. I have received a wonderful, memorable letter from Ms Cherry Bolobnese. Cherry and her parents were personal friends of Supt. Bram Smith. Her complimentary letter about Supt. Smith is very much appreciated and well worth printing.
Dear Mr. Healy,

I loved reading your tribute to my "Uncle" Bram! He was a great friend of my Dad and Mum for many years. We spent many wonderful summers listening to tales of the bands adventures and misadventures. Uncle Bram gave me music lessons in the summer.

I remember his wonderful giggle and the mischievous sense of humour he had. Strange as it seems, my Dad had cancer at the same time as Uncle Bram and I remember the phone conservation well. They agreed that who ever popped off first had to take a bottle of Grouse with them and wait for the other so as to carry on together. Uncle Bram passed away first. My Dad followed soon after.

I remember one summer when Uncle Bram was conducting the Salvation Army Band at Jackson Point's bandstand. My Dad had managed to get front row seats. After the music started, of course Uncle Bram had his back to us, Dad very sneakily handed out cut lemons. We brandished at the brass section and then with much gusto bit into the lemon wedges.

The resulting splat of a chord can only be imagined. Bram spun around saw us smiling with lemon wedge smiles, and with a smile and laughter wagged his finger at Dad. He drew himself up and still giggling said "Everyone hits a sour note sometime, though usually not together. We shall try that again. WIthOUt the lemons - Stan"

I was very good friends with Bram's daughter Pamela, but have lost touch with the family over the years. I would like to get in touch with Pam again. If you know of her whereabouts, or another family member that I could reach her through, I would very much appreciate an email address. Or, perhaps you could pass on my email to them.

I don't know whether we ever met or not. My dad's name was Stan Sadgrove. We used to visit Bram when he live in Ottawa.-----I think we may have even met you. My single name was Cherry-Dawn Sadgrove. However my name is now Mrs. CherryDawn Bolognese.

Thank you so much for your wonderful tribute to my "Uncle" Bram. I shall print it off to put in my memory box for my children. Bram was a big part of my musical side and I am still using his wonderful teaching to reclaim my instruments. I finally have time for my music as all my children are now grown.

Yours truly,

Cherry Bolognese
Email: verycherrydawn@gmailcom

'Maintain Our Memories'

*I have replied to Cherry's letter. A copy has also gone to Vets Dan Carroll and Garth Hampson so they can help Cherry make contact with the Smith family.

Cherry, once again thank you for this memorable tribute.

J. J. Healy,

Monday, February 7, 2011

In Memory of Reg.#17379, S/Sgt. D.J.A. Burgess


In Memory of Reg.#17379, S/Sgt. D.J.A. 'Art' Burgess
Longest Serving member of Burnaby Detachment

'Friends Not Forgotten'

An article on the front page of 'Burnaby Now' published on July 21, 2010 recently caught my eye. The piece shows a photo of an eleven year old boy by the name of Justin Heussner? Recognize his name?

Turn back in time about 1965. My first two years were spent at Burnaby Det. Exciting days, great memories. I recall all my early NCO's, but two, in particular, took me under their care. Sgt. Ken Jenson help me purchase my first car, and Cpl. 'Art' Burgess took me home for family suppers. Art and his wife told me stories; Mrs Burgess knew Vancouver's geography and Art knew the name of every teen suspect  responsible for B an E's. His recall didn't require a notebook. I was impressed by any member wearing one star. In uniform, Art would have had two up.

At the time, I was on uniform foot beat on North Hastings. But, Burnaby Detachment also had a GIS Plain Clothes Unit; Northrup, Holmes and Proke come to mind. As I recall, the GIS Unit consisted of a two person 'Youth Detail' -- Cpl. Burgess was the senior of the two -- they were assigned to Burnaby's problem kids and the like. On midnights, Art would slip by with a coffee and check that I was OK. Great cover.

Reg.#17379, S/Sgt. 'Art' Burgess joined the Force in 1951. I'm not sure of his early postings but it's said that Art eventually reached a milestone by having been the longest serving member at Burnaby Det. Art retired in 1989 and he died in 1993. He is buried in Burnaby, BC

Back to Justin Heussner. He's since had a birthday so he's twelve now. I don't know Justin or his parents, but he's announced that he wants to join the Force someday. Perhaps 'Air' Division. He's been inspired. Seems to know his path in life and I admire his aim. Got the impression from the article in 'Burnaby Now' that Justin has his head 'well mounted'. In my opinion, he's heading in the right direction -- to the RCMP.

Justin Heussner loves his grandfather. So happens to be my 'ole friend Art Burgess. Justin actually never met his grandfather, but Justin's parents have told him many, many stories of his grandfather while Art was in the RCMP.

One of Art's stories led Justin eventually to a well hidden group of graves. As it turns out, the graves were once the resting place of convicts who had been hanged at Burnaby's Oakalla Prison. Justin's grandfather, Art Burgess was a witness to the last hanging at Oakalla in 1959. Later, Art told his daughter (Justin's mother) about the hanging and showed her the forgotten cemetery in the woods.

Justin lives near the old cemetery and he attends a neighbourhood school. Last year, he was assigned a school project so he chose to investigate the graves in the cemetery. The convict's remains had layed in the cemetery since 1932, but they had been exhumed and moved in 1960. The graves are very apparent.

In the Burnaby Now article, Justin said that stories about Art Burgess and the school project have brought him closer to his grandfather. I hope that Justin got an 'A' grade on his assignment; he deserves it.

Justin, here's a secret; while in school, always count an 'A' as your best friend. 'A' also stand for 'Art' Burgess. He's your grandfather and he's my 'ole friend. Well done Justin! Someday we'll talk.

'Maintain Our Memories'

J. J. Healy,

Credit: newspaper: 'Burnaby Now', July 21, 2010. Journalist, Janaya Fuller-Evans.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Ranks of the Force : Corporals

Ranks of the Force : Corporals

Memories come best when one is tired. I'm tired. I'm thinking about Corporals.

One of the best was Reg. #18723, Francis (Frank) Scotti presently living with his wife, Jean, near Toronto. Frank's long retired as a senior NCO -- in summers, he and Jean essentially live on their boat. Cruising.

Not long ago, they dropped in for a visit and stayed for dinner. Frank thinks my wife is an excellent cook. Who's gonna argue with your 'ole Corporal ?  His memory is sharp and naturally we got talkin'. Wives half listen.

Frank recalled this one. I was on highway patrol far east of Haney, BC (now Maple Ridge)  -- near the Maple Ridge/Mission border. It was 1967. Radio said a woman in a farmhouse thought her husband was dead. Squawk asked; 'Constable Healy, would you slip by and have a see?' 'No problem, I'm in the hood'.

I met the woman. It was an isolated farm. Naturally, she was in a panic; alone, no ambulance, no family, didn't know what to do. She was shouting, scared, come get the drift. You've been there.

I sprinted upstairs and he was in bed. I joined him. Warm but no signs. I had a bad feeling. Woman was beside me; alone, lonely, panic, shouting, desperate. Tears by the ton. 'Do something, he's gonna die'! I just couldn't tell her -- no way. Gonna leave that to my Corporal. I started AR. She watched. Hopeful.

I knew AR wouldn't work with certain classes of people. For instance, the dead. I'm no doctor, but I know First Aid. I also knew what I was doing -- given the circumstances. In my day, at 'Depot' we were told horses would hold us in good stead. Now I'm thinking I love horses. Think horses.

With AR you gotta count seconds. Right? I'm counted them for the Corporal. It's too late for my bed partner. I know dead. It wasn't long, but it seemed like a day. I was puffin' AR. Finally, Corporal Scotti joined us. He spots me on the bed then takes the woman to a nearby room. She knew. She could read my Corporal's eyes. And touch. He broke the news.

Now he came back to me. His eyesight is 20/20. 'Stop Joe, he's dead.' 'Yeah Corp, I know.' Dead is sad. I asked, 'how's she doing?'

I've always, always said it. All you need is a good Corporal. What made Corporal Scotti special on Detachment? He knew people well. He could size'em up. He also knew his men. He had spent years in the north -- life there makes one fuse closer to people than in urban police settings.

Corporal Scotti was all police officer. Pretty special to me. He was also a trainer. I listened. He'd say: 'It's not us versus what you can.' Solid advice in policing, eh?

Some Officers have problems. Read history. Steele refused his commission for the sole purpose to learn from his men. To be with his men. Officers can learn from Steele. And from Scotti too. The former rode in the saddle, the latter rode the streets. Neither at a desk. OK, you know where I'm going with this.

Inevitably, the question for those who select Officers comes down to one: 'In real life, was he or she effective as a Corporal?'

Building a strong case for a good Corporal is not too difficult -- Corporal Scotti's in that boat. That's the way it is with my 'ole friend.
If you're wondering, former Senior NCO and my good friend Frank Scotti is the good lookin' guy on the right.

Photo taken at the Boat Club, Ottawa.

'Maintain Our Memories'

J. J. Healy

Friday, February 4, 2011

It's so good to have a brain...

A Word on the Brain

I'm getting older but seems to me that someone once said ''s a wonderful thing to have a brain' or a phrase equivalent. I happen to agree -- the brain helps with recollections.

Here goes. For many, many years while working the web I've been waiting for a particular  RCMP member to connect with me. Sooner or later, I hoped he would. I got his call yesterday. We laughed. Tell you why.

It all started on my first day at Burnaby Detachment. A day or two earlier, I had graduated from 'Depot'. It was May 1, 1965. I walked into Burnaby's old dungy, dark, basement typewriting office and lo -- I'm met by two senior members in Red Serge. Welcome aboard, I thought. Nope.

No, this pair were dressed differently -- sure the Red Serge looked good, but they were minus Stetson, spurs, revolver, gloves and Sam Browne. Pretty naked by anyone's standards, one could say. A few days later, after Service Court, one of the pair became my trainer. He was senior -- a go getter and very likable by everyone. Popular. OK, except for the prosecutor in Service Court. But, my friend lived on after Service Court. Said he, 'Just an experience which we should all go through.' Yea, I said, some of us twice. 

As a one day trainee, seems that he let me drive the PC from the start -- maybe a 1964 Dodge. It answered to Car 877. One could tell 877 from the burn hole in the front seat where the powerful spot light had been left. We'd been warned. We answered calls in both keys; major and minor. One minute a B an' E, then a bank alarm, then a stolen battery, then a B an' E, then an intoxicated person, to serve a summons or two, to excute an arrest warrant, then to the car wash. Day's over. It was a very, very exciting way to start a career in policing.

My trainer was expert. I've never forgotten his methodology and I've used it for years. First, he did the task  then he allowed me to perform the same under his eye. 'Joe, here's how we serve a summons, now the next one's yours. Make notes on the reverse copy. Do it again. Change gears.; Llet's get this guy in the back seat. Now it's your turn. Notes. I'll fingerprint him. It's your turn. Car chase on the afternoon shift. Now, it's your turn'. No peace, no quiet in Burnaby. At least on the North side.

It's been near forty six years since we had heard each other's voice. Lost track. Turns out he left the Force after Burnaby and went on to excel in another line of work. Professional. Kids gone. Saw the world. Full of life. Loves the wife. Happy.

I said, '...been waiting for your call. Remember May 1st, 1965? No spurs?' 'Sure do, Joe. Laugh.

Yup. Sure is good to have a brain. Memories. Need friends to jog memories. Motto is: 'Friends and brains make memories'.

'Maintain Our Memories'

J. J. Healy,

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Last Post: Dr. J. Brian Baird

Friends Not Forgotten

Dr. J. Brian Baird. Peacefully passed away at home on January 31st, 2011.

Born in Northern Ireland on April 20th, 1936. Brian will be fondly missed by his devoted wife, Marnie, and by his daughters Anna Lisa (Joost) and Julie-Jane.

Predeceased by his daughter Sarah. Dear grandfather of Bridget and Jet. Beloved friend of Kailey and Kyra.

A service in memory of Brian will be held Saturday, February 5th, 2011 at St. Thomas the Apostle Church, 2345 Alta Vista Drive, at 10:30 a.m. In lieu of flowers, donations to the Royal Ottawa Foundation for Mental Health or The Canadian Guide Dogs for the Blind would be appreciated.

Should anyone need to contact Mrs. Baird or either of her two daughters they can all be reached at the Baird residence in Ottawa at 613-738-0664.

Dr. Baird was a senior Forensic Scientist at RCMP Labs. There is no visitation but the the family would appreciate Veteran's participation in the funeral on Saturday.

'Maintain Our Memories'

Credit: Spirit []

J. J. Healy

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

In Memory of Reg.#16941, S/Sgt. Ernest H. Corrigan


Grave marker of S/Sgt. Ernest H. Corrigan
In Memory of Reg.#16941, S/Sgt. Ernest Hugh Corrigan
Notre Dame Cemetery
Ottawa, Ontario

'Friends Not Forgotten'

Reg.#16941, Ernest Hugh Corrigan joined the Force in 1951. Over a career which spanned twenty two years, he was posted  to Newfoundland, Ottawa and Nova Scotia. He retired in 1973.

Ernest Corrigan died in 1998 and he is buried in Ottawa, Ontario. His grave site was previously not known but it was located by retired John Henderson.

'Maintain Our Memories'

J. J. Healy

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

In Memory of Inuit Special Constable Andrew Ooyoumut


In Memory of
Inuit Special Constable Andrew Ooyoumut
Died while serving the Force and Canada

'Friends Not Forgotten'

The excerpt here is summarized from the CBC's report of October 6, 2010

Inuit Special Const. Andrew Ooyoumut died 56 years ago in Canada's North. His family have won a partial victory in their bid to have him recognized alongside other RCMP officers who have died in the line of duty.

Special Constable Ooyoumut was hired in 1946 by the RCMP in Baker Lake, Nunavut. Sadly, he drowned while on duty in 1954, after falling into a river while catching fish to help feed RCMP dogs.

Now, years after Ooyoumut's death, his granddaughter, Deborah Webster of Yellowknife, has been fighting to have the RCMP nationally recognize him as they would with other fallen Mounties.

After many years Webster has learned that Ooyoumut's name will be added to the RCMP Cenotaph, Honour Roll and Memorial Wall plaque.

For the complete story by the CBC, kindly click on the following link

I want to acknowledge the CBC for this news item as well as the photo of Constable Ooyoumut .

'Maintain Our Memories'

J. J. Healy