The images for my CONTACT 2008 exhibition are printed and framed and ready to put on the walls! Very exciting. The images share star billing with touching stories. Here is what George says about his memory box:

This project of identifying moments of long ago is important in that it brings to memory events that shaped our lives. Here are a few of my moments. The first is the silver cigarette box, which takes me back to the 30s & 40s, a time in which cigarette smoking was ‘cool’. Thank goodness those days are gone forever. Nearly every home had a box of cigarettes offered to guests as a courtesy. In the box on the left side you will see a brass mouth piece of a bugle which Jimmy played in the military band of the Toronto’s own famous 48th Highlander Scottish Regiment. Jimmy was my oldest brother. He and my father had joined as Reservists when Jimmy was seventeen years old. Fortunately at that time, they were never called for military action. They were known as ‘Saturday Night Soldiers’ as they usually paraded around on weekends. Herewith is his mouthpiece for his bugle. The ribbons are not military but came with some medals that Jimmy had won as crewmember of a sailing boat, which won some champion races on Lake Ontario. One cold and blustery day in April, 1918, Jimmy and others of the crew were readying the boat for the coming season. The boat was anchored on the dock at Ashbridges Bay (the beach area of Toronto). Some young lads volunteered [to help] and they all got into a small row boat to get to the [sailing] boat. Suddenly heavy waves hit the row boat and it capsized. Jimmy was hit on the head and sank immediately. The young boys who could not swim were all rescued, but Jimmy, a good swimmer, was drowned. His body was taken to our house at 567 Pape Avenue. Of course, mother was traumatized and I believe she never recovered and was haunted throughout her life. Father never mentioned his name again. This incident somehow altered family relationships. The metal badge is simply a relic from [the] 48th Highlanders and is a remembrance of the time when I was one year old. Now more up to date, we have a small ceramic vase made by a world famous ceramic artist. She was a close friend, being in Canada on a teacher’s exchange program. My teacher friend introduced me to her. She had a most remarkable career, surviving the war by catering to the various occupying armies as they invaded her home in Germany. On one visit to her in Germany, as I was leaving, she gave me this priceless gift – a most memorable and inspiring moment. With many thanks to Ron for including me in recollecting a few stories of my life – an antique true story. George.