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By Sandy Neilly
Didn't the past year just fly by? We jumped from bad weather to bad news and, from there, to the stark realization that our collective global economy is hanging by a thread, especially that of our neighbours to the
south.
 
The postcard we used on the front cover (of the print edition) is proof that the human race has been in this type of situation (and worse) many times before - and, as we all know, "This too, shall pass.” The card is postmarked 1940 and addressed to Grimshaw, Alberta from Aberdeen, Scotland. At the bottom of the postcard it says the words were "quoted by His Majesty the King in an Empire Broadcast,” and what wise words they are.
 
As a matter of fact, on a recent trip to North Carolina in November for a small family reunion of sorts it seemed to us that not everyone believes that things are as precarious as we're led to think. The highways were busy, the motels and restaurants were full and the antique malls and markets that we were able to stop at were either larger than they were during our last visit - or they were holding their own. It was encouraging. I'm guessing part of the outward appearance is denial, but Americans are a robust and determined bunch - they'll bounce back, sure as the day is long.
 
We have a guest writer in this issue of the Wayback Times, by the name of Herb Kingston. Herb is an historian and he is passionate about the dairy industry of Toronto, being a former employee just as his father before him was. Chatting with Herb was a real pleasure and it was quite something to learn that Jim Boyd, the father of my very close friend Laura, is a mutual acquaintance. Although Jim Boyd is a congenial and tremendously funny man, he terrified me as a girl. He was a real kidder and being a shy child I never knew how to respond to him. His Irish accent didn't help matters any - half the time I wasn't sure what he was saying. I remember that he had to leave even earlier than my own father to go to work for Donlands Dairy each day.
 
Working for a dairy company seemed to me to be the greatest job in the world back then. Where my family of six had to drink a horrible mixture of lumpy powdered milk made with tap water and a little evaporated milk to give it flavour (ugh!), Laura’s family had unlimited quantities of creamy homogenized milk to consume. Although I was usually too timid to accept anything offered to me, I did overcome that shyness for a glass of cold, delicious milk on occasion. It was an incredible treat, that simple glass of milk
 
Homes in most of Toronto at that time had milk shoots built into the side of each house, a small compartment with a door, where quarts of milk were once placed. Although they weren't used for milk delivery by the time the sixties rolled around, they were often useful for other things. Keys were left "hidden" in them, as were notes from our parents if they had to go out. Items hastily gathered from outside were temporarily stored in them - and if one was locked out of their home, the milk shoot was a great way of getting inside if you were small enough.
 
This option was used often and on one occasion aforementioned friend Laura, an average sized eleven year old, attempted to get into her locked home through their milk shoot - which was placed significantly higher than the one on our house. After helping her to get up and into the shoot, it quickly became apparent that she wasn't going to make it all the way through. In fact, it seemed like she might not make it back out either. Two wildly waving legs protruding from the side of the house by the kitchen door were all that could be seen. After much tugging and wriggling, Laura was wrestled from the shoot and restored to the sidewalk below with some incredible bruises to show off. Being a scrawny little kid myself, I was able to get through the shoot to open the door . . . guess I should have gone first.
 
Rumour has it that my husband Peter's mother, nicknamed "Mrs. Neatly" (rather than Mrs. Neilly) by the neighbors' kids, would use the milk shoot to transfer lunches and snacks from the inside of the house to the great outdoors thereby preventing a bunch of grubby kids from messing up newly waxed and polished floors . . . and I don't blame her a bit! The milk shoot now serves as a letter box as do most of them - no more lunches or little kids' wiggling bodies will go through it again, but as Herb says at the end of his article, "I know we can't turn back the clock, so thank goodness for the memories!”
 
Well, there's a new year ahead of us. It's going to take a bit of ingenuity and determination to make it a success, but I do believe that antique enthusiasts are exceptionally good at that.
 
Thank you, everyone, for your good thoughts and wishes over the past year
That thanks is extended to our talented contributors, our astute advertisers and our wonderful readers. We've had to say goodbye to some very special people in 2008, but in our sadness comes the realization that we were blessed to know
them.
 
Happy, healthy 2009 to each and every one of you.
 
Editorial Archives: November/December - 79 - September/October - 78 - July/August - 77 - May/June - 76 - March/April - 75 -  January/February - 74 -  November/December - 73 - September/October - 72 - July/August - 71 - May/June - 70 - March/April - 69 - January/February - 68 - November/December - 67 - September/October - 66 - July/August - 65
 
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