Highlights of a summer well spent

St. Vital

Why were people flocking to Winnipeg’s Portage and Main intersection this summer?

Like the proverbial chicken — “To get to the other side” — by crossing Main Street at street level, once the barriers were removed on June 27.

I was thankful that my out-of-province son and his wife came to visit me in July so that we could see the celebrated corner once again welcoming pedestrians at the crosswalk.

“Your corner at Portage and Main even earned a mention in Toronto’s Globe & Mail,” they said. “As the paper put it, ‘Luckily, after resisting as long as possible, city council eventually did the right thing.’” Amen!

I couldn’t have been more pleased about the timing of their visit. At Dakota House, my regular dinner mates, Leverne and Joyce Fykes, would be celebrating their 70th wedding anniversary that same July weekend. So, to honour them on the Friday, I reserved a dinner table and invited their close friend Naida to join us. The bottle of bubbly that my visitors contributed made for a magnificent toast to the couple. But it also served as a thank-you for the care and help the Fykes provide as responders to Victoria Lifeline whenever I am deemed to need help.

I later interviewed our couple for some details. They were both raised in Maryfield, Sask., where in 1950, at age 19, Leverne became the youngest person to become a licensed insurance broker. He stayed 60 years in the business, the latter in a managerial position.

Joyce ended up as a schoolteacher for several years. Marriage to Laverne on July 20, 1955, and subsequently a family of two sons, cut short her teaching career.

“They have given us four grandchildren and four great-grands,” says Joyce. “And Leverne was the same all these years. It’s been a good life — it shows.”

Our anniversary couple moved to Manitoba in 1958 and to our assisted living suite in 2022. Leverne’s unabashed parting comment was a gift as a great closing sentence — and to Joyce as an emotional testament: “If I had to do it over again, I would marry the same girl in a heartbeat.”

Peter Falk, another gentleman at dinner table #44, tells us that he was married even longer — 73 years — to a lovely lady named Anne. She passed away three years ago, after which he moved to our residence. It was difficult for him at age 97 to recall details, but he is still able to recite poetry he memorized years ago. I join him sometimes, for each year at our country school at Meleb we had to memorize 10 poems from our readers. Peter and I get much satisfaction helping each other along, and we watch our dinner mates’ eyes betray them as we two “old fogies” surprise them with our rusty memories.