United College Collegiate - Tric Tics Yearbook (Winnipeg, Manitoba Canada)

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Starting your first job? If you are, you’ll be smart to start early in your life insurance program—a program that will take care of your insurance needs as they arise. Moreover, Prudential’s Dollar Guide makes it easy to plan for such a program. So get started today—let me show you the Dollar Guide! See Office 93-3547 The Prudeniiol Insurance Company of America Head Office — Toronto, Ont. m RENO FIRE FIGHTING EQUIPMENT We Sell, Repair and Service all types of Fire Extinguishers HEAD OFFICE: 629 WALL STREET Winnipeg Phone 72-9524 Page Forty-two

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DESPAIR Shut your eyes! Blank your mind! Close your ears to sighs, And numlb your feet to the grind Of countless hours Empty and blind! Acrid earth cowers ’Neath the silent, steady gaze Of Need and Want. Ignorant and dumlb in the maze Of life; meaningless, feelingless, gaunt. SHIRiLEY GROSSER. AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A WINNIPEG STREET CAR By LOLA MacEWING I was once a pulsating, moving thing. You wouldn’t think so now to look at me, but I still have my pride; I can still remember when . . . but that seems so long ago now. It was back in 1895 when I made my debut on Winnipeg tracks. There were ten of us “greenhorns” that year. We managed to start quite a controversy in Winnipeg. Some people shook their heads in dis¬ belief that these modem “new-fangled” electric vehicles could be relied upon. Horses used to glare at us when we clanged by on the steel rails; we had succeeded the outmoded equine-drawn streetcars. It amuses me to recall how smug and sure we were of ourselves. We didn’t believe it possible for ourselves to be demobilized. Yes, I was new then; brilliant orange with black trim. In front, I proudly carried a beacon light and a great iron monstrosity they called a “cow-catcher”. Chiefly designed as a rescue device for unsuspecting pedestrians, it succeeded only in making me look rather fearful and forbidding. My interior had been comfortably equipped with green plush seats and handy leather straps for the less fortunate to grasp While standing. There was no luxury spared then to make the journey comfortable for the passengers. At that time I was important enough to have two oper¬ ators on board. One man drove me while the other stood at the back to collect tickets, punch transfers, and signal “Stop” or “Go” by jangling a little bell. It was exciting to be a part of this new transportation system. Perhaps it is the same in any line of work, how¬ ever; one tires by the humdrum existence. Many times I felt I could scrunch my brakes at the thought of another monotonous day up and down the tracks. True, there is very little thought required; one is hardly able to go wrong following the same rails, passing the same landmarks, and, very often, clanging at the same autmobiles or stray dogs. I feel I had my revenge to a certain extent though. After a particularly trying day, it would cause me no end or fiendish delight to see a capacity crowd, swaying as they stood, suddenly lose their balance as I ground to a jolting stop. I’ve seen some wonderful scrambles in my day! However, it is generally with a mixture of pride and nostalgia that I look back to the days of “courtesy” and “service”. The motormen seemed calmer and more serene then. They made a real effort to keep on schedule and many a time I have found myself travelling lickety-split down the tracks in order not to break my motor-man ' s record for being on time. Today, no doubt, that would evoke a few derisive chuckles from any who have impatiently waited for a glimpse of bright orange to appear on the scene. Still, we tried, and I really regret none of my experiences. I came into contact with many interesting characters and it was a good life while it lasted. In any case, one cannot travel up and down the tracks for fifty-odd years without experiencing con¬ siderable “wear and tear”. A certain chronic creaki¬ ness set in around my joints, and I developed some rather nasty rattles. I should have suspected some¬ thing then, but I think the real sign of old age was when the noisy, clamoring crowds began to bother me. They pushed, jostled, struggled and fought to climlb aboard, with nearly the same procedure when alighting. It suddenly seemed so pointless and more frantic than usual. “Tension of the times,” folks said, but the good old days were gone forever. What really took the heart out of me was the appearance of those confounded trolley buses. The little gas buses had been accepted, and it was agreed that they eased our work. With Winnipeg growing by leaps and bounds, it was necessary to serve many more people. But the impudent self-assurance of these trolleys quite upset me. They seemed to creep in slyly at first. I warned the others that these young upstarts would displace us, but they laughed then. Well, I was right; now we’re being placed in the ranks of the unemployed. The future looks grim for some of us. However, perhaps I have the last laugh in any case. I may not move on rails now, but at least I have a permanent job in my retirement—I’m now a chicken Page Forty-one

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