Telling Our Stories:
Story telling is the Shuswap
way of passing our history
to the next generations
When I was about six or seven years old, going to town happened on Saturdays only. That was about 1952 or 1953. Only one or two people ever owned cars on the reserve in those days. So, it was down the road to the highway to hitch hike or wait for the Greyhound bus. It seemed that many from the reserve went to town on that day to shop for groceries and once that was done, to spend the rest of the day sitting in the beer parlours sociallizing with all the others who came to town for the same reason. As for the kids, well, we’d spend the day going from one café or restaurant to another. And, there seemed to be many of those in
I often smile when I think of one particular Saturday I spent in town. It must have been July or August because I remember it being very hot. The Famous Restaurant was one of the finer dining establishments in those days. It was located in the building that is now “The Boot” nightclub just across from the Ranch Hotel and beer parlour. Ice-cream cones only cost a nickel then and I had a quarter in my pocket. I went into the Famous restaurant to buy an ice-cream cone. I don’t know if my English was bad or maybe I just didn’t speak loudly enough, but when I got my order there were five ice-cream cones not just one. I think I may have tried to argue but the lady had my quarter and I had five ice cream cones. Gosh, it must have been about 100 degrees outside. I remember walking up and down the street asking anyone I met if he wanted an ice-cream cone. I can never recall how that episode ended, only that I remember the ice-cream running down the cones and all over my hands.