At the age of 6, I remember Duane volunteering to go to war for the Canadian forces who had already been engaged on Britain's behalf against Germany in the Battle of Britain.
This was a brave and unique thing for him to do since Duane was born in Eureka, Montana and was an American from the day he was Born. Our family only moved to Canada after he was 7 years old. However, I suppose because 5 of us younger siblings were born after the move, he felt there was a duty to defend the Country he actually grew up in. He joined the Canadian Paratroopers Red Devil Brigade and underwent basic training in preparation for the uncertain future that was in store for him.
It was certainly an adventure that would stay in his memory and ours for the remainder of our lives.
I remember his coming home on leave before shipping out overseas particularly well, not only because of my memory, but because of his reflections to me later in years.
Just 2 doors down lived the Civetarese family with 3 sons that Duane and my older brothers grew up with. Alf Civetarese was approximately the same age and he had joined the Navy in order not to be drafted into the Army first. They were otherwise inseparable friends. Coincidentally, They were both
home on leave and scheduled to be shipped out at the same time.
It was a time for them to celebrate together before that time arrived and they proceeded to do just that.
Of course with Duane's basic training, he was convinced he was the toughest guy in town. Now maybe in some ordinary city, that could have been the case. He was soon to find out it was definitely not! Fernie B.C. was a rough and tumble coal mining town amongst another half dozen or so that harbored some rugged, tough people and Sonny McCormick was one of the town's toughest.
Duane decided to engage himself in a fisticuffs with him at a local dance just before shipping out the next day. Gosh, was he a sorry sight when he boarded the train for Halifax, Nova Scotia. He remarked to me years later that he faced the upcoming enemy with a little more respect. He faced them in France and Belgium after that.
When the war finally ended and the Allies shipped their weary troops home, Duane got off the ship in Halifax and headed for the nearest bar, it was heavy on his mind concerning the present welfare of his closest friend, Alf Civetarese. He didn't have to wonder long. Above all the noise and clamor, there was an argument taking place on the other side of the bar. There was Alf!!
Now considering the fact that Fernie B.C. was 3,000 miles away from Halifax, what would the chances be of them running into each other? Wow! But they did and the celebration began there, all the way home and then some.
They both married, raised families and remained close friends their entire lives, although living countries apart for years. They both became barbers with Alf living out his life in Trail, B.C. and Duane in the Seattle Wa. area.
I'll try to tell the story as I recall it.
Right at the time of their return, when I was around the age of 9, I was hospitalized with a mysterious stomach flu and spent a week in the hospital. Back in those days, the nurses dressed in formal, white uniforms and were highly regarded as they attended to the patients in need with their little white hair pieces and accompanying white, soft walking shoes. I remember the great, attentive treatment from a particular nurse named Angie Delpuppo. She was so nice to me. Some weeks thereafter, as I was playing in our back yard in the middle of the day, I could here someone up the hill from our place singing "Meet me in St. Louie, Louie, meet me at the fair". As I looked upwards I saw Duane come over the hill with a lady on his arm and as they got closer, I realized it was Angie. They had just met and he was bringing her home for our family to meet her. As a child, what a beautiful surprise that was to me! I knew her before he did!
They were married shortly after that and made up residence in Eureka, Montana just 40 miles away.
I had the pleasure of spending summer vacation as a child there with them and I'll never forget it.
For a couple of years, Duane and our older brother John worked as fallers in the woods for a local logging company. In those days the falling was done by hand with a double handed crosscut saw.
Winters were cold and snowy much the same as Fernie and of course anti-freeze wasn't too popular yet, so they had to drain their car to prevent the radiator and block from freeezing at night and then refill it in the morning to go to work. They had to repeat the process to come home. Sometimes the car wouldn't start right away either. I think I learned the working man's language partially from them.
I remember them being overjoyed at the invention of the 2 man chain saw that took place right at that time. What an innovation in logging that was!!
With our oldest brother Stanley living in Seattle, Wa., Duane and Ann were inspired to move there and Duane enrolled in a barber school to eventually opened a shop on Aurora avenue. Angie resumed her R.N. career and together they spent the rest of their lives in the Seattle/Puget Sound area.
At the age of 14, I visited them for a couple of weeks and Duane taught me how to strum a guitar which I enjoyed so much He gave it to me to take home to Fernie. Along with a harmonica, I played it for years after.
In later life I returned to live in Seattle and along with the rest of my Siblings, We enjoyed a lot of McNaughton happy hours on Friday nights along with his son Dewey and I playing the guitars together. Those are memorable days and Duane loved each and every one of them.
Thanks for the memories, Duane. There are many more of them to talk or write about. I only wish you were here with us to enjoy them. You always will be in our hearts, Brother.
Thanks to the McNaughton family for the great reunion last week-end!
Love you all, George.
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