The part of Moncton we moved to,the Northwest was very much a work in progress in 1964.It was not even close to being a finished neighborhood.On our street,all of the houses that are there now were there then.And there were a couple of really big houses right near Mountain Road that are no longer there.but the rest of the area was really like one giant construction site,and construction sites back then were rarely fenced in.
Most of the streets branching off Crandall Street had dozens of unfinished houses,their streets were muddy quagmires and there was all sorts of construction junk laying all over the place.today the sites get cleaned up and locked down when nobody is around,but not back then.At that point,Birchmount Street and Ayre Avenue did not really exist,at least not as they do now.Most of the streets ended just past Lorne Street,though there were some paths which you could walk through.Mostly though it was woods through to Killiam Drive.At the corner of Lorne and Whitney there was a sort of a pond ,or a swamp and a really run down old house right beside it.It looked worse than most of the houses out in the country.
To the best of my memory our street was the only one that was paved and had curbs along it's whole length.All of the others were still dirt,filled with potholes and usually wet enough to be at least somewhat muddy.They were poorly lit as well.At night they would put out these kind of lamps that looked like a cartoon version of a bomb,and were filled up with kerosene.They were set out along the edge of the streets because there was usually a big hole just beyond them where the curbs were being built.They filled the streets with an eerie sort of a glow,because they had open flames at the top.In 1964,we were very much on the edge of town.All you really had to do to be out in the country was cross Mountain Road,or go out past the bottom end of Birchmount.
Because of all the building going on,living where we did was an endless source of fascination to a young boy.I literally got to see our neighborhood going up all around me,day after day.My earliest clear memories of Moncton are of the men and machines that came and went all day long:Dump trucks,cranes,paving machines,rollers,graders,trucks carrying big panes of glass,telephone trucks,and all other sorts of working vehicles.There was even an old beat up looking tank truck.A tar truck,as it turned out.
Sometimes the fire trucks would come roaring down our street too.Usually three or four at a time,and there was usually a police car with them.Back then there was a call box at the corner of Crandall and Snow and,if you pulled the handle,the trucks would come.but usually there was no fire.In fact,I don't ever recall there being a fire,but there sure were a lot of fire trucks.Later,after the new school was opened,the false alarms became much more frequent.So many days,over the noon hour some kid would pull the handle at the call box.
Nearly as interesting as the trucks and machines were the men that operated them,and the others who worked all day with rakes,shovels and picks.My sister and I always called these men "Monkeys." That is likely because some of these men climbed the poles,and my parents may have said something to the effect that they climbed just like a monkey.But no matter if the workers climbed poles or not,monkeys they were,at least to me and my sister.Men without hats were not monkeys.Construction workers were,unless they took of their hats,then I guess they'd "evolved." Mostly I recall the idea of calling them monkeys to be something my sister came up with.I don't know how she did that,because at three years old,I'd never seen a real monkey to know what one looked like.Nevertheless,monkeys they were.
The whole idea of monkeys kind of evolved into a different sort of a game after a while when we started calling our hometown "Monkeytown." It seems a natural enough evolution when you're small and live in a place called "Moncton.",which just happens to be infested with what we knew as monkeys.So,when we were away and someone asked us where we were from we'd always say"Monkeytown." Everyone but my parents would fall over laughing at that,no doubt thinking that these are cute little kids who could not pronounce "Moncton." Actually that was easier to say,but it never got a laugh like when we said"Monkeytown."
Most of the streets branching off Crandall Street had dozens of unfinished houses,their streets were muddy quagmires and there was all sorts of construction junk laying all over the place.today the sites get cleaned up and locked down when nobody is around,but not back then.At that point,Birchmount Street and Ayre Avenue did not really exist,at least not as they do now.Most of the streets ended just past Lorne Street,though there were some paths which you could walk through.Mostly though it was woods through to Killiam Drive.At the corner of Lorne and Whitney there was a sort of a pond ,or a swamp and a really run down old house right beside it.It looked worse than most of the houses out in the country.
To the best of my memory our street was the only one that was paved and had curbs along it's whole length.All of the others were still dirt,filled with potholes and usually wet enough to be at least somewhat muddy.They were poorly lit as well.At night they would put out these kind of lamps that looked like a cartoon version of a bomb,and were filled up with kerosene.They were set out along the edge of the streets because there was usually a big hole just beyond them where the curbs were being built.They filled the streets with an eerie sort of a glow,because they had open flames at the top.In 1964,we were very much on the edge of town.All you really had to do to be out in the country was cross Mountain Road,or go out past the bottom end of Birchmount.
Because of all the building going on,living where we did was an endless source of fascination to a young boy.I literally got to see our neighborhood going up all around me,day after day.My earliest clear memories of Moncton are of the men and machines that came and went all day long:Dump trucks,cranes,paving machines,rollers,graders,trucks carrying big panes of glass,telephone trucks,and all other sorts of working vehicles.There was even an old beat up looking tank truck.A tar truck,as it turned out.
Sometimes the fire trucks would come roaring down our street too.Usually three or four at a time,and there was usually a police car with them.Back then there was a call box at the corner of Crandall and Snow and,if you pulled the handle,the trucks would come.but usually there was no fire.In fact,I don't ever recall there being a fire,but there sure were a lot of fire trucks.Later,after the new school was opened,the false alarms became much more frequent.So many days,over the noon hour some kid would pull the handle at the call box.
Nearly as interesting as the trucks and machines were the men that operated them,and the others who worked all day with rakes,shovels and picks.My sister and I always called these men "Monkeys." That is likely because some of these men climbed the poles,and my parents may have said something to the effect that they climbed just like a monkey.But no matter if the workers climbed poles or not,monkeys they were,at least to me and my sister.Men without hats were not monkeys.Construction workers were,unless they took of their hats,then I guess they'd "evolved." Mostly I recall the idea of calling them monkeys to be something my sister came up with.I don't know how she did that,because at three years old,I'd never seen a real monkey to know what one looked like.Nevertheless,monkeys they were.
The whole idea of monkeys kind of evolved into a different sort of a game after a while when we started calling our hometown "Monkeytown." It seems a natural enough evolution when you're small and live in a place called "Moncton.",which just happens to be infested with what we knew as monkeys.So,when we were away and someone asked us where we were from we'd always say"Monkeytown." Everyone but my parents would fall over laughing at that,no doubt thinking that these are cute little kids who could not pronounce "Moncton." Actually that was easier to say,but it never got a laugh like when we said"Monkeytown."
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