When I was laid-off I had never been approached by a shop steward or any union rep and merely sat at home awaiting recall.
Luckily after about two weeks Alki Bill called and asked me back to do specials.
I returned to day shift as a driver and had the daily routine of checking in at dispatch for waybills and then picking up truck keys for one of the old beat-up relics nearing retirement age used as spares.
After starting the old unit and driving to the on site fuel pump to fill the tank and check and add oil, I pulled into one of the 57 loading doors near to where the freight I was to deliver was stacked and loaded up.
Once under way I listened to the chatter over the radio of the dozens of drivers as they jokingly bickered with the dispatchers and each other.
One of my first jobs was delivering dozens of small, but very heavy safes to homes around Vancouver.
Dispatch arranged for drivers in each area to meet me at some homes to help muscle them up the stairs and into the house.
At break time there were rows of CN trucks from our Express division and the Inter model (Piggyback side) parked in front of several coffee shops in the city where I would also pull up on occasion.
The relaxed atmosphere of the operation was very stress relieving for me who has always been in a rush to "Get 'er done!"
At about 4:30 the dispatch would say "Good enough....come on in."
After unloading any pickups I had done to assist the route drivers we sat in the lunchroom until 5 when we could punch out.
After a month or so Bob came to me one day in his cheerful way with nervous laugh said "We're putting you on afternoon shift starting Monday, Johnny!"
I liked that idea as I wouldn't have to get up early and enjoyed slugging freight in the warehouse.
Bob also mentioned he was being put onto afternoons as foreman as he'd been demoted from operations supervisor for some reason.
Bob was a very decent man, but was a compulsive gambler who blew his pay cheques at the Exhibition race track unless his wife came down on pay days to collect the cheque before he got hold of it.
Bob's nickname was "Spider", not because of his slim build, but as a result of his losing his shirt after placing a huge bet on a race horse by that name.
He was also a heavy drinker and had the shakes often until he picked up some rum which was his regular habit.
I would see him go down to the lunch room, buy a can of Coke, pour most of it out and top it up with dark rum which he could sip as he supervised us on the warehouse floor.
Most of the management were drunk much of the time as were several of the long haul drivers, especially on Friday nights which I will detail in later paragraphs.
The crew of about sixteen on the afternoon shift were mainly young, fun loving guys who were very pleasant to work with.
Of the older fellows there was Tom "Scotty" Taylor originally from Paisley Scotland where he drove rigs for Chivas Regal Whiskey.
He was the most colourful of all my coworkers and was usually loudly singing "hits" such as "I dream of Nellie with a pimple on her belly." Or "Strangers in the fuckinggg nighhhtttt". And "Only a fuckinggg roseeeee I love youuuuu!"
He was usually half drunk and had been suspended as a driver and placed on afternoon shift until he cleaned up his act.
He regaled us with stories of his exploits in the British Army and as a trucker in the UK.
Dale Nordman was the son of my Mum's friend who had given me the tip originally of the job with CN was a checker on the shift and proved to be a very good worker and interesting company.
He worked long enough to save money for his yearly trips to Thailand where he spent a few months.
He was full of adventure tales to pass the time as we moved the freight.
He was one of the checkers and trained me on the routing until I could master the job and we took turns.
There were books called freight gazetteer that we consulted when unsure which interline carrier went where and a routing book that had every street in the lower mainland listed with the corresponding route for delivery.
John "Walking Death" Norman was in his mid-fifties and was a large, doughy fellow with flat top hair cut and very sleepy expression due to his nearly round the clock work schedule.
John had worked for CP Rail in the Revelstoke area for many years in the 1950s and told stories of the mammoth "Selkirk" engines used for the steep grades in the area.
In his early fifties John had to start over again and worked with us on afternoon shift, overtime on the day shift, had a part time job with Saan Stores and another job as a security guard.
How he continued was amazing to us and he dragged himself around moaning "Oh shit Mother!"
Scotty bugged him constantly and one night as John nodded off while sitting alongside the rollers pulling freight yelled "Look at fucking Humpty Dumpty!" This became another of his nicknames.
As the shift came to a close, most nights Bob would appear calling out "9 tomorrow, boys! 9 tomorrow!" signifying overtime for those interested.
"Come on Johnny, we need you! HAHAHAHA!" Bob would laugh as he tried to badger me into joining the boys.
Not too interested in making more money that seemed eaten up with income tax deductions, I agreed only to be of help and enjoyed coming in, even though still tired from lack of sleep.
It might seem strange to the reader, but it was fun working with the guys, the camaraderie was foremost with us.
I was only on the afternoon shift a short time when I was promoted into loading my own trailer which was viewed as an honour to the guys.
There were about 10 different destination trailers (or boxcars) being loaded most by a different fellow who had responsibility to load the correct cities into their respective units.
Other warehousemen brought the outbound freight from the unloading areas to be lined up across from the correct unit that had a sign over the loading door reading Edmonton,Calgary,Winnipeg etc.
I was given the Prince George trailer which was unique along with the Kelowna unit in that it had to be ready by 1800 hours in order to be hauled over to BC Rail's yard in North Vancouver to be piggybacked to its destination.The Kelowna trailer was hauled to Boston Bar where the driver from Kelowna met ours with a trailer from Kelowna and they switched.
Bob usually said "I'll get someone to help you shortly, Johnny!" as the time neared and we would scour the whole warehouse to look for any leftover PG freight and would quickly stow it and get the unit on its way in plenty of time.
We had 4 forklifts at that time-3 Toyotas and one 1956 Allis Chalmers with no cage so it could enter the P & D trucks.
It had lots of power and was more maneuverable than the others and was favoured by most of us.
Most of the goods I loaded for PG consisted of mining,forestry and other industrial equipment and grew to where I had 2 trailers going nightly.
Some items we shipped included huge vats of paint bound for the Alberta oil fields,thousands of gallons of pop concentrates for McDonald's,trailers full of Mott's Clamato juice, huge rolls of carpets we picked up using a long pole that attached to the forklifts and large steel rock crusher casings that were so heavy we dragged them with the warehouse with sparks flying as the ground into the cement floors.
After finishing my trailer I would swing over to help one of the others load the busier trailers. Some of the boys had 3 or 4 units to stow, the amount of goods being staggering in those days.
We handled weapons bound for the RCMP and Canadian Forces consisting of firearms,ammunition in the form of wooden crates stacked on pallets of bullets, hand grenades and ant-tank rockets,tear gas and other explosives we had to handle very carefully and was attended by CN Police patrols and housed in the value pen manned by Bob Carphin.
Being a Canada Customs bonded warehouse we also moved large shipments of liquors from other countries.
Some of the fellows, notably Scotty would get into these and sample some of the wares.
I well remember Scotty chugging a large bottle of sickly sweet melon liquor and vomiting the contents into the dumpster soon after imbibing it.
Once a case of Greek licorice Ouzo broke and "Stony" Borhaven lay beneath it under the rollers catching the dripping liquid as it drained through the box.
Once most of the units were loaded we would begin unloading the inbound units until quitting time.
Some afternoons as I was eating lunch at home Bob would call"Johnnyyyyy!We need your body to go out on specials!"
I'd quickly throw my lunch together for my evening meal and head for the warehouse.
If my deliveries allowed I always chose 71181-an International cab over 5-ton that had a very powerful 392 V-8 that I really enjoyed wheeling around.
I would secure my load and head out enjoying the very pleasant exhaust note old "181" had as I sped through traffic .
My other favourite was a bare bones basic 1972 Chev 5-ton -72025. It had a 292 6 cylinder engine with 4-speed tranny,manual steering and brakes.
We called it the "Army truck"due to its Spartan lack of options and its sound, but I often used it for the novelty and its very solid feel. I felt like a truck driver of the old school when chugging around in "025".
Most of the other trucks were Ford F-600s that were near carbon copies of the smaller pickups of their vintage and proved to be comfortable units to operate.
It was fun doing late night runs down to China town and other rough areas of the city.
Driving down the alleys was an experience, but I was never bothered other than being asked for change a few times.
There was a full time yard TTO on shift to jockey the trailers during the shift.
Gordy "Pigpen" Crawford was a big jolly young fellow who often asked me to help him on Friday nights ride in the Ford Louisville yard tractor and expedite his job by jumping out to hook up the trailers' air lines and close and seal the doors.
He then had to move the outbound loaded trailers to the parking lot where the long haul drivers hooked onto them, or to the Inter model "piggyback" yard at the end of the property we shared with them.
Here the units went onto the scale, were weighed and lined up ready to be loaded onto the rail flat cars.
On Fridays once we had everything loaded we could go home, sometimes 3 1/2 hours early!
There was a push on to work like crazy. Some of the guys began their weekend early and has bottles stashed in the desks beside the loading doors.
Bob and most of the management were also lubed up and sat up in the offices that overlooked the warehouse floor where we could see bottles tipping back throughout the shift.
After Bob was demoted a new Operations Supervisor transferred in from Moncton who was said to be an ex-army no-nonsense fellow.
Gerry (Sully) Sullivan seemed to be as had been reported and was very efficient and quick to act if we needed something and asked him.
He was easy to get along with for those of us who worked hard and didn't drink at work, but had a vendetta out for any slackers and drunks.
The Friday crew were careful to hide what was afoot until he left around 5 each afternoon.
Our trailers bound for Alberta were hauled by Midland Superior, a holding of CN.
These owner/operators were usually up in the office tipping bottles too and often could hardly walk as they climbed into their rigs to head east.
There were many characters among them such as Dale Detman (Death man) aka "The screaming skull" due to his cadaverous appearance. He reportedly drank 15 cups of coffee daily with 4 tsps. of sugar in each. He literally quivered with nerves as he stood before us, hair askew, eyes darting wildly, voice high pitched coining him another nick name (Squeaky).
The trucks were coloured as in the photo and their trailers which were refrigerated units used to haul hanging beef from Alberta and freight on the return trip.
The trailers were supposed to be pressure washed inside after the meat was unloaded, but it was not unusual to have them come in unwashed with greasy, slippery metal floors that caused the forklifts to slide around while loading.
Another welcome perk we enjoyed happened on Thursdays.
If the work was well caught up, Bob, standing by the stairs leading to the upper office, holding his "Coke" can with knees shaking would yell at 2000 break time "See you at ten boys!!!HAHAHAHAAAA!"
At the "Big I" we were greeted like old friends by the staff as we streamed in and lined up at the kitchen's order window.
Meanwhile Dusty the bartender knew our beer or cider preferences and had them on the table by the time we'd ordered.
Lorraine, the pleasant cook took our orders and was soon bringing out trays with the huge portions served of double burgers, hot beef or turkey sandwiches, fish & chips, chili all made fresh including the gravy. It all went down very well with us hungry guys as we washed it down with pints of beer and cider.
Several of the fellows played pool while the rest of us watched the new MTV on the big set mounted in a corner of the ceiling.
By 2200 some of the guys such as Dave "6 beers" Campbell were nearly legless as we returned to the "shed" to do some unloading. Once or twice I saw guys walking in with beer mug still with them as they finished their drinks.
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