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SENIORS'
and ELDERS' Day Celebration
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Photos (above):
Top: Students make greeting cards for the Be a Santa to a Senior Program.
Middle: Comedian Big Daddy Tazz entertains at the Seniors' and Elders' Day Celebration.
Bottom: Tom (Oldguy) Kyle, co-founder of M.U.G.S. (Macintosh User Group For Seniors).
Click on links for stories.
Senior
Scope
Publisher: Kelly Goodman
Phone: 204-467-9000
Box 1806 Stonewall
Manitoba, Canada
R0C 2Z0
Email: kelly_goodman@shaw.ca
It was
a noise that penetrated, muscle, sinew and bone, instantly
followed by a dull whirring sound. The sound was not at all
like in the movies as the airplane spun to earth just above
Violet’s head. She ran all the harder now, with her baby
boy wrapped in her arms close tight to her chest. A flash
of flame that lit up the October evening sky burst from the
downed plane, then debris lifted back into the air followed
by high pitched hisses that seemed to be all around. Violet
screamed as a piece of hot metal shrapnel from the exploding
enemy airplane tore through her left knee. She eased the baby
to the ground as she crumbled without a sound; she began to
lose consciousness. Within seconds the noise snatched her
back from the pain and she was able to focus again. Grabbing
her baby and running as best she could she made it to the
air-raid shelter with her precious bundle. A neighbour relieved
her of the baby and an air-raid warden gently tended her wound.
The shrapnel had penetrated the knee splintering bone as it
slid to one side and exited beneath the knee cap. For the
rest of her life, following several operations, Violet May
Cartwright would always walk with a fixed knee joint with
no bend in her leg. That was
how grandma had described John Cartwright’s first real
life experience in which he was involved but did not remember
any of it because he was that bundle Violet, his mother, was
protecting. John, who now lives in Inwood, Manitoba, says
the first memory he could claim as his own was at the age
of about three. Feeling very ill, he was lying on Grandma
Fowl’s bed which was against the living room wall, while
four generations of the family huddled under the roof of number
10 George Street, in Whitechurch, which was in the county
of Shropshire, England. After the trauma of the war, any illness
tended to be of small account, and the family, without being
neglectful, were paying little attention to John. Some seventeen
members of his family died in the second-world war including
John’s father. As was common then, families herded together
for safety and to share what little they had. They needed
the support of each other during those trying times while
the menfolk were away at the war. They accepted, in a crazy
sort of way, that some of their men, and indeed some of the
women on the home front, would not return and all while they
waited for that final word… something they feared, but
they waited anyway. “Post–war,
food and money were scarce for everyone, remembers John, “although
we were very poor we did not feel singled out; it was hard
times for most folks. Many years later, my sister Gloria had
described in some detail to my new and lovely Canadian wife
Leslie, how we had argued over an egg that was to be shared
by four of us, an event I had completely forgotten about”.
John does remember with great affection his grandma and particularly
his grandfather. The Four-fors Grandfather had eventually
called them. Forego – set the troubled parts of your
life to one side as best you can if only for a few seconds
at a time. Forbear – be patient and occupy your time
with other matters as often as you can by doing things you
like to do no matter how trivial they might seem in such difficult
times. Forgive – tell yourself as often as you can that
the troubling matters surrounding you cannot overcome you
and the individual or ‘thing’ that is causing the
problem deserves better than your hate. Forget – eventually
you will have no time for the troubled thoughts be it something
someone did, the war around you, or the lack of food. When it
came to food, much of it was rationed and rationing continued
for several years while the country was struggling to climb
over the rubble and devastation of the wartime years. ‘We
had very little of anything but I do remember eating Corn
Flakes three times a day for two weeks. To this day I can’t
tolerate the smell of them’ John reflects, but without
any hint of regret. ‘I wore only soft canvas pumps and
no coat in all weathers, just a small ill-fitting jacket.
Wet or cold did not seem to bother us as kids”. At home
there were three generations of his family living together
in a two bedroom house with more relatives living next door
and across the street they somehow felt safer. “As tough
as some might say it was, there was the unspoken promise of
renewal; more than that we had survived. Wet or otherwise,
no coat, shoes or breakfast didn’t seem to matter a great
deal, we spent our days outside and had fun,” recalls
John. “I have difficulty understanding how a problematic
early life is factored in to excuse bad behaviour, an excuse
I read or hear about often these days”. John smiled and
said. “Boy does that make me sound like an old crust”. If anything
developed from those experiences John believes it was determination.
“I saw some of my friends and peers being moulded willingly
into a box that read ‘know your place’ or ‘recognize
your betters and be respectful of them’ or ‘don’t
talk back just do as you’re told’ which, when translated,
meant to many, ‘Just stay where you are, make no effort
to improve your position in life as if somehow, someone had
pre-determined life for you’. This thinking was considered
wise council then and perhaps very Victorian but most of all
it was safe… and after such devastation who could blame
them for wanting to be safe. Most were destined to become
labourers, garbage collectors, secretaries or to go into service,
as one of John’s three sisters did, which meant being
a maid for some upper class family in a large house who could
afford servants. There was little else to do. Rubble from
the bombs that had been falling for years had to be moved.
Cattle killed by stray bullets or blown to bits by bombs had
to be husbanded back to reliable stock levels, homes to be
built and poisoned fields made to grow crops again. School
for John was one mile away. Dressed only in soccer shorts
and a small jacket with canvas pumps on his feet, or later
a pair of rubber boots known as wellies after the Duke of
Wellington who originated the idea of rubber boots, he ran
to school each morning, consumed the hot, two course meal
he was provided free by the government as one of only six
in his class who qualified for the free meal program. After
eating, he could be seen running the mile back home in time
for a drink of water, check on his ailing mother—always
referred to as Mam—and then run once again the mile back
to school in time for classes, then run the mile home again
at the end of the school day. All the time he was running,
he was dreaming how he might find a pathway out of that pre-destined
box everyone around him seemed happy to accept. John did
not want to shirk any responsibility to do his part helping
the recovery efforts after the war but to blindly accept some
pre-destined benign future did not sit well. To do his part
as was expected of everyone he volunteered at the cattle market
in the farming town of Whitechurch, washing cattle trucks
with chemical disinfectant or scrubbing animal stalls to belay
any infectious potential as the local farmers worked at re-establishing
their stocks. “All the while I knew there had to be something
I could do that would show me just one rung at a time to climb
out of this box we were all expected to fit into; I also knew
there were others wishing the same thing. Little did I know
my sisters who were all older than myself and had accepted
menial appointments were at the same time mapping out their
own upward mobility. Coping, for many folks, during the war
and for some years after meant just that, ‘cope and hope’.
John had developed a different philosophy… do what is
necessary to help recover from the war but all the while be
on the lookout for ways to improve self. Although
it was not part of any design the daily four mile running
to and from school eventually placed him as a contender in
the tri-county sports. Though his short stature made him an
unlikely track athlete he won several competitions each time,
gaining credibility among his peers. Although at first snubbed
due to his poor appearance he joined the local boy’s,
choir and discovered he loved singing—something he would
continue for the rest of his life. Track and field sometimes
brought him a little money for the family and he put himself
to the test trying new things as often as an opportunity presented
itself if only to say he tried. This included trying his hand
at boxing but he recognized there were some limits to the
challenges he had set himself. As an example, he tells me,
“After winning several bouts and moving up as a contender
for the county amateur boxing championship title, I had only
been Knocked out once and it was not a KO but one of those
brief dizzy spells from a good hit. I didn’t go down
but as we were fighting under amateur rules that was it, bout
over. However, when I came up against the county champ, within
the first minute I could tell he was taking his time to figure
me out. By the second round I decided to go in as fast and
as hard as I could. Well he knocked me out cold. A few more
fights and I was KO’d again. That’s when I decided
this was not a career I was yearning for. The boxing was just
a bit of a lark to get a few shillings for the family under
the heading of expenses and gain a bit of a lift in my peer
group, so I quit; I was almost done with school anyway and
would have to make some decisions about the future”.
When John
left school at just fifteen years of age, which was usual
back then, he had been a prefect, an appointment usually given
to students who had demonstrated some leadership responsibility.
However small, this was a clear move in the direction he hoped
for. With no father to guide him, a crippled mother, and no
such thing as guidance councillors, John would have to search
for a meaningful opportunity for himself. He discovered a
new programme being introduced just a month before he left
school. The war had produced a shortage of health care personnel
and John had a fascination for the human body. In fact, he
had won a science fair event building a full size skeleton
from papier mache, and taken two or three first aid courses.
He did not have the required pre-entry credentials, but here
was a back door into the heath profession, by becoming what
was to be called a ‘cadet nurse’ a new designation
before becoming a student nurse. The programme admitted potential
student nurses; who might otherwise have been lost to some
other workforce. If accepted, the programme paid for college
to gain the credentials needed to enter nursing school. In
return, and additional to your college hours, you worked 36
hours in a hospital doing anything from cutting meat in the
hospital store to cleaning floors or delivering bandages and
pharmacy supplies. Seen as menial, perhaps, but it was a pathway
to a profession and exactly what he had been looking for.
John was accepted, went to college and became the first student
in the programme to gain an exemption from the part-one State
Nursing examination and a star student at The Cranage Hall
Hospital in Cheshire. He had found the niche he was looking
for… health care service. Eventually
he decided to take a three year speciality course in what
was then called Mental Subnormality and he became a registered
nurse within that field. After gaining his degree, he studied
special or unusual cases he encountered with enthusiasm and
began to write a series of pamphlets called “For the
Nurse” meanwhile taking as many additional courses as
was possible to fit in to his new life. Several promotions
followed and he eventually gained a second degree, having
moved to the Todmorden Hospital in Yorkshire, where he Studied
Doman Delacato Physiotherapy. It seemed impossible, but John
also found time to play music in a band, something he had
started at fifteen as one of his tryout experiments. “But
that is almost another life,” he says. “One that
gained me proximity with some of the best known musicians
in the world, and I am very grateful.” Moving
to Leybourne Grange Hospital in Kent, he ran the hydro therapy
unit; the most modern in the country at the time and deputized
as head of a surgical ward at the same time. With a fistful
of other courses and certificate in psychology under his belt,
he eventually moved to Canada and took further post graduate
studies at the Brandon Mental Health Centre. This was followed
by studying Psychology at the University of Manitoba, and
Counselling at the University of Winnipeg where he briefly
taught, and was a guest instructor. Back at the Brandon Mental
Health Centre and at Selkirk Mental Health Centre, John’s
next move was into the Provincial Correctional Services where
he established the health care programme and was given the
remit to have input to all of the provincial Prisons health
care services and given the title of Director of Health Care
Services, as designated by the incumbent director of Correctional
services Doug Lawrence. He was able to train Correctional
staff throughout the province in First Aid and CPR and also
trained medical students at the University of Manitoba becoming,
at one point, the chair of the Education committee for the
Manitoba Heart and Stroke Foundation. . John Cartwright
found himself in demand and began providing lectures and training
in several provinces as the Manitoba Correctional health services
became more of a benchmark for other jurisdictions. Some of
his peers and a couple of his superiors failed to appreciate
that his positioning was in fact a credit to the whole service
and he decided on a change accepting a position at headquarters
where he, with his co-worker, Monty, wrote policy papers,
procedures, protocols and prepared government documents. From
that position, he became one of the front men to negotiate
the return of the Milner Ridge Armed Forces Base to the province
and turning it into a prison. He taught the first officers
assigned to that facility and was instrumental in establishing
the first Correctional Officers course at the Red River College
receiving a commendation for his work. After
a bout of illness John wanted to get back into Health Care
full time so he left the Correctional Services and went into
private practice opening the Interlake Community Health Services
in Selkirk and concentrating on Phyto-Therapeautic Treatments,
relatively new to Canada at the time, but gaining considerable
momentum in the UK. “This is as close to natural as one
can get,” John explains, “but it must be clearly
defined as not being your typical health food store product.
I lasted for five years accepting more and more referrals
from physicians but I was a terrible businessman. If someone
couldn’t pay me I could not send them away so I was not
making any money and had a wife and two children to support.
We closed the place down and I accepted a position with the
National Health Services in England. Based in Kent, I was
titled, the Prison and Community Addictions Liaison officer
consultant to Her Majesties Prisons (HMP) in Kent. That was
a huge mouthful of a title as well as a big responsibility.
I was serving Five large prisons in addition to the community
work and training I was required to deliver. John designed
the first full treatment drug programme in a prison in the
UK at HMP Swaleside on Sheppy Island a medium/maximum security
facility. He also developed a peer Counselling programme training
prisoners as counsellors and able to gain accreditation for
the training. “I used mostly lifers, who in England serve
life rather than twenty five years. The first ten or so were
such a remarkable group and an asset to the whole programme.”
From this came national recognition and media coverage. John
was being invited to lecture around the country and at the
school of medicine and with his newly developed and published
Total Suicide Management prevention model (TSM) he was invited
as one of the key speakers to the fourth international conference
on mental health in London attended by hundreds of representatives
from across Europe and beyond. “It
was time to settle… I had Graves disease which is a thyroid
condition and I needed to slow down some”. At fifty five,
John retired for good from the Health profession. He went
back to his music roots, and tying in his writing experience,
he began to write musical reviews that were produced. He had
been acting with the Prairie Players in Portage la Prairie
when they were first established and had participated in a
few other productions in the UK. “I felt comfortable
I could put something together and was surprised when my first
musical play produced in a large theatre in Kent sold out
for the four days”. More was to follow and John eventually
was to Direct as well as Write plays. This led him to eventually
directing in London’s famous ‘West End’…
Europe’s Broadway. Wanting
to return to Canada, John and his family headed for Prince
Edward Island where they lived for six years, returning to
Manitoba about five years ago. His last play, ‘See Alice,’
was produced at the Prairie Theatre Exchange. Since his return
almost five years ago, he has produced a number of shows and
put together a band for his own enjoyment called “Thistle,”
which plays every week at the Fox and Hounds Tavern in St.
James, Winnipeg. The show is called the “Pig ‘n’
Thistle Show” (Jugs, Jars and Jollies) playing a blend
of sing-along old time songs, some more modern renditions,
and plenty of four-part harmonies. We were hired for four
weeks, that was extended for another week, leading up to the
Christmas holidays in 2011. I received a call just after the
holidays asking us to come back and just keep on going until
at least the spring, so that is where you can find us every
Thursday at 8.30 pm. We encourage anyone who can play an instrument
or sing to come and join us or just sit back and have fun.
John Cartwright’s musical history is so compact and busy, it’s almost another life and another story, as is his theatre experience. One is left not only to wonder how he fit everything in, but also what on earth will he do next… and one can’t help but feel… that might be yet another story. | |||||
