Characters I have met.
It was September 1955 and I decided that at 19 years of age I would seek my fortune in sales. The fact that I had no prospects didn't faze me - I always had a positive assuming attitude that things would work out. After all, I had been a successful part-time door to door solicitor for Readers Digest, so I knew how to approach people. All I had to do was convince some employer to give me a chance. Easier said then done. I was staying with an Aunt in Winnipeg making the rounds. No resumes - just applications. No luck. Then I spotted an ad for a Driver Salesman for Quinton’s Cleaners. I approached Paul Quinton who politely listened. He knew of the work ethic of the people of the Interlake and of the fishing industry and said he would call me.
In the meantime, my father called. The shore hand at Albert's Point (the family’s Fall fishing station) had taken ill. As I had spent five summers as a shore hand at Georges Island, would I help them out? Without hesitation, I went to Riverton to meet Captain Laxdal. There I boarded the freight boat the Baby Buck for our fishing station on Humbuck Bay. I spent a beautiful Fall building a nest egg and enjoying the healthy fresh air. Among other duties, I learned how to smoke goldeye and the occasional sturgeon. Incredible fare.
When I returned home to Gimli, I found that Mr. Quinton had called. I quickly connected with him. They did not have a route open but would put me to work in the plant at Jessie and Daly. The Quintons were fine people and did their best to show me the dry cleaning business. I was a good student and along the way I picked up a mentor. Freddie was the #7 Driver. All routes had numbers and the route salesmen were simply called by their respective routes. He was 20 years older than me, a man about town who at last count had five girlfriends. He gave me a number of pointers for the day that I would get a route. As luck would have it this, happened very soon - a driver salesman on one of the poorer routes quit and I became #5 Driver.
I was determined to repay Quinton's for the faith shown in me and I worked hard building up the route. I was on my own all day, so every chance I had I would solicit potential customers on my route, just like I did when I had a paper route. This strategy was beginning to show results. One day I got a call for a pickup on a part of the route I only did in the mornings. The caller said come in the afternoon .Well I couldn't go by in the afternoon so I decided to knock on the door in the morning. Eventually, a man with a big cigar in his mouth came to the door. He informed me he worked nights. I said “sorry”. “That’s OK, kid” he said and gave me 18 silk shirts to be dry-cleaned. A big order. Then he said, “Kid, don't come back until the afternoon.” I asked him what his name was and he simply said “Stanley”.
Mystified as to who my new found customer was, I asked the #7 Driver on my return to the plant. Freddie laughed, “You just met Stanley Zedd.” Who? Stanley Zedd’s full name was Zarawiecki and he ran many of the floating crap games and bootlegging joints in Winnipeg. This was in the days before legalized gambling and mixed drinking. The exception was the Race Track at Polo Park. He had a reputation of treating everyone honorably - his games were fair and his booze good.
“Well,” said #7, “now that you are acquainted with the gambling scene, let’s go to the Track and see the ponies.” I said I was only 19. Legal age to gamble was 21. “No problem,” Freddie said, “we will go in uniform!” So while Freddie distracted the guard, I pulled my hat down and walked in. Freddie, of course, belonged to the Turf Club. Polo Park had seen better days and it was due to be demolished to make way for Winnipeg's first shopping centre. To a wide-eyed 19 year old, who cared? I enjoyed meeting Freddie’s friends and the ambiance of the Turf Club. I even made a $2 bet on a plug called “Lucky Something or other”. I did not win.
Back at work I continued trying to increase my sales. One Saturday, Freddie said, “let’s go out. I heard of a floating game” We drove to Portage and Fort, parked the car and then waited on the side walk. After a time, a limousine pulled up and a half dozen of us got in. After sort of driving around aimlessly to dissuade anyone from following us, we pulled up in front of a private house in the North End. I thought it didn't look like a Club. The driver said he would take us back anytime we wanted to go and then drove away.
Inside the residence was a different world. Men and women of all walks of life were drinking, eating, talking and gambling - all having a great time. I walked around with a beer enjoying the great Ukrainian food and the atmosphere - what an experience! I did not gamble. After a couple of hours Freddie was ready to leave. I was standing by the door waiting for him when a well-dressed gentleman with a big cigar in his mouth asked how we were doing. We said we had enjoyed ourselves. As I was following Freddie out, the well-dressed gentleman said, ‘Remember Kid, come in the afternoon.”
March 2012