Person:Sam McIntyre (2)

Stories about Sam would fill a book....

Foreword After Sam's funeral, some of the younger generation gathered at Marlene and Glen's....some to hoist a glass to Sam...and so that we could all listen to Marie tell her stories. Listening to Marie got the rest of us going. We shared... and compared.... versions of the stories we'd heard Sam tell... or tell stories of our own about Sam. All of us were surprised and dismayed to find that there were stories Sam told that only Marie knew...like how he'd been hurt in the war. The rest of us had never bothered to ask Sam .....we figured somebody else knew the story. That was when the idea of the book came about, so we'd remember them like he did. During her four years as Sam's housekeeper, Marie wrote any stories Sam told her, any quips or sayings, and kept a diary that gave an incredibly accurate insight into Sam's wit, wisdom and daily life since Jean died. Marie's writings were the inspiration for this book and an invaluable resource for the narrative. I have included all of the historical stories with as little editing as possible. Marie, Colleen and I then collected stories about Sam from family and friends. Some of these I edited to make a continuous story… the narrative section. For the narrative, I wanted the reader to feel like Sam was sitting across from them, telling the story himself. Deciding where these other stories should go was purely an arbitrary decision on my part. …None were excluded but some were abbreviated and edited into the first person narrative.….

In other words....the story is true but the names and time frames may have been changed... and I admit that a certain amount of  dramatic license has been taken. My apologies to anyone who can remember the exact details to every story Uncle Sam told….but…..Where were you when I needed you?!  
The Quick Quips section contains an Uncle Sam Dictionary and an assortment of the wit and wisdom for which he is famous. Most are taken from the narrative. Regardless of the presentation of the stories, at least they have been written down. Thank you Marie for providing such an excellent base from which I could work! And it was a lot of work! ….So…why bother?  To answer that question…well….you had to know  Sam McIntyre…and hear him tell a story…… 

Sam McIntyre Sam lived a full rich life until his death at 97. He had lived through every pivotal event of the 20th century and his recollection was fantastic...he often included historical details that are overlooked in the history books...It would be a shame for those details to be lost. His description of life during the Depression and the Second World War was worth hearing...and Sam loved to tell them...especially the war stories! He had a wisdom that comes with age and experience and he shared it in memorable ways...and always with a hearty chuckle. He had a remarkable approach to life and a very quick wit that he used ..even in his final days! His escapades, when combined with his sense of humour have resulted in an unbelievably rich store of family folklore. If Sam didn't tell the story, there was always someone who had a story about Sam! While it would be a shame to lose the historical detail, it would be much worse for that family folklore to be lost.

Kathy

Descendants of James Thomas McIntyre Page 1 28 Jan 2001 1. James Thomas McIntyre

  sp: Martha McIlvar 

2. James Thomas (Tom) McIntyre 2. John McIntyre 2. David ( Dave) McIntyre 2. Robert (Bob) McIntyre 2. Samuel* died in childhood McIntyre 2. Wilson McIntyre

2. Sam McIntyre (b.1903;d.2000)

  sp: Jean Donalda Shearer (b.1915;d.1996)

3. Donna Lorraine McIntyre (b.1938)

  sp: Kenneth Kirk

4. Deb Lorraine Kirk (b.1956)

  sp: William Griffey

5. Tara Lynn Griffey (b.1980) 4. Dianne Elizabeth Kirk (b.1957)

  sp: Michael Benincasa

5. Jonathan Kirk Samuel Benincasa (b.1990) 4. Colleen Gwen Kirk (b.1958)

  sp: Fred Fritz

4. Kelly Louise Kirk (b.1960)

  sp: Rick Pelton (m.(Div))

5. Trisha Anne Pelton (b.1980)

  sp: Harley Jarred Cathcart (m.1999)

6. Jaydon Bradley Cathcart (b.2000) 5. Ashley Anne Pelton (b.1985) 5. Brandon Kirk (b.1992)

2. Margaret (Maggie) McIntyre

"There are only two kinds of people in the world,

   The Irish, and those who wish they were."

Sam I always thought of myself as Irish even if I was born in Scotland. Whenever anyone would ask, I'd say "Just because a cat has kittens in a dog's kennel, that doesn't make them pups." I don't really remember much about that time because I was only five or six when we moved to Ireland. I remember my Dad as a drinker who could be hard to get along with. My brother Bob said Dad was bound there was going to be a Sam in the family so I was named Sam even though I'd had a brother named Samuel. This Samuel died after he had fallen off a high chair he was climbing on..... I was always closer to my mother and would help her scrub floors. Sometimes it was one continuous fight with my brothers. As soon as one was down, there was another to take his place. We used to make fun of my sister Maggie and she'd get mad at us. It didn't help when she got a boyfriend. She took a lot of teasing then. I had a lot of fun in my young days! We used to play tricks on folks. We used to thread a darning needle with fine cord and tie a 4 inch spike to the other end. We'd stick the spike in the woodwork and then stand back and pull the cord, causing the needle to tinkle against the window. If we saw the man of the house coming to investigate, we quickly pulled the spike out and let it drop to the ground. No sooner had the man gone inside till we put the spike into the woodwork of another window of his house and started pulling again. I used to ride an old bicycle. It was the main transportation in Ireland those days. You'd do the repair work beside the highway or anywhere. On the seat of the bicycle was a leather pouch where we stored a tablespoon, a piece of an old inner tube. A pair of scissors and rubber cement. We used to use the tablespoons to take the tires off the rim. My mother often accused me of stealing tablespoons. Sometimes I did Mosside was the village we lived in. I never got past 6th grade. When I was in school, I thought as long as I could sign my name and count money, that's all I need. At school I was a thickhead, they couldn't drum nothin' into me. I didn't want to learn, I thought school was a waste of time. The way I carried on at school drew the other children's attention and the teachers didn't like it...no way...they didn't like it. We used to use peashooters and little wads of paper, wet them and blow them through the peashooter onto the blackboard beside the teacher. That was to let her know that we were watching the blackboard. When the teacher asked who did it, nobody did. Sometimes the teacher would make us turn out our pockets in the morning to see we don't' have peashooters with us. One of the school trustees' kids was always acting smart and came to school all dressed up. He'd pick on new kids at school so all this got him the name Little Lord Fauntleroy. He always came to school with a collar and tie on; the rest of us were lucky if we could only have a collar. One day, Little Lord Fauntleroy was picking on a new kid when we were playing soccer. There was a puddle with about a foot of water in it, where the goalkeeper stood. Little Lord Fauntleroy was up where the goal was and I was getting at him for being mean to the new kid. Lord Fauntleroy wondered what I was going to do about it and I said not a lot and put my shoulder to him. He landed in the puddle and he had a mud bath! Little Lord Fauntleroy told the teacher. The teacher used to line everyone up after the bell to see if everyone's there. If everyone was there we'd march in single file. Anyhow, that day we got lined up and she came along with a willow gad and went to get me across the shins. I jumped and she skinned her knuckles against the stone wall. There was a stone wall between the school grounds and the cemetery. I took off for the school. In the classroom, the teacher was bound she was gonna give me a lickin' and I was bound she wasn't. I ran around the desks and lifted the desks trying to get their toes. It was as good as a concert that day; the kids were watching the teachers chase me. Finally, I headed for the windows... they were halfway down. I got up and put one leg over and then the other. My heel hit and broke the glass. I don't know if my Dad had to pay for it or not, I never asked. The next day I went to school a mile and a half away. There I had a man teacher. One day my Dad met my man teacher in town and my Dad asked how him I was doing. He said I was doing alright. Dad said "Keep him that way and don't be scared to lay on the hickory." On Saturdays, my friends and I saw our man teacher looking for willow gads in the forest. There was one day my friend and I were walking home from school and my friend said "Seems there's something not quite right about today Sam." And I said, "What's that?" "Well" my friend said "Neither of us got a lickin' today." Those were my happy school days. You shoulda went to school in my days!" I worked as a hired hand on farms in Ireland as soon as I was out of school. I scrimped and saved all I could to get to Canada. I came to Canada in 1928 and settled in Woodbridge before coming to Listowel area. When I first got here, there was a place you could go to find out where jobs were available. You would buy a ticket and then walk or ride a streetcar to the place you wanted to apply at. If you didn't get the job, you could return the ticket and get your money back. Well, when I got to this one place, there were two other men but only one job. So we flipped a coin on it. I won the coin toss and got the job. My first job was washing dishes at a restaurant. The fellow who lost the coin toss said that it was probably better that he lost cus he would have been like an elephant in a china shop. In the Hungry 30's as I call them, a hobo went to a farmhouse door and asked the farmer's wife if her husband had a spare shirt to sew onto the button he had! This is just a story that flew around in the 30's. I worked for a dairy farmer outside of Listowel when I first came to this country. It was about 1930. I worked for him for 2 years. He wanted to start a days work at 3 o'clock in the afternoon. He had 15 cows and we milked them by hand. McKeever was his name. We got up at 5:00 to milk. Them were the days of long hours and low pay. Thirty dollars and your board. I worked for Billy Wilson for a year in the Hungry 30's. He wasn't married and was worth thousands of dollars. He was Treasurer of the United Church in that neighbourhood. He got into trouble because that was the year they changed the Chevrolet Touring car to a Chevrolet Sedan. He was able to buy a new one without trading in his old one. He kept his old car to take bags of grain to the gristmill in the winter. The church thought he was using their money to buy the new car. Two men from the church came one day when Billy was gone and they wanted me to give them the key to Billy's office. I refused. Billy always bugged me to go to church. The first Sunday after that, Billy didn't go to church. I used to scrub Billy's floor. One rainy day when Billy left he told me I can do what I want. I told him by the looks of that floor, that's what I'll do. I've had my ups and downs, mostly downs. When I worked for the Troyers, They were doin their washin' but I wasn't gettin' mine done. They were another bunch that went to church. So one day when they went to church, I got my laundry out and got the fire goin'. In the midst of it, a buggy drove in. The Troyers were getting company from church. The lady told me that I'll get an earful when the Troyers come home. I said, "It isn't the whitest wash in the neighbourhood." Then the man told me the old lady (Mrs.Troyer) will really give me a hard time, but he said, "You can take it." They came home from church and the Troyer woman was really disgusted so I told her "Cleanliness is next to Godliness." The next day I was goin' down the road with my suitcase in hand. I was fired. During the Depression, you worked for your board or you starved. The farmers got 50-cents/ hundred weight for milk. I got my name up as a good pig feeder. I worked for a farmer; Bert Wilson was his name, in the 30's. I worked for $5.00 a month. He was as poor as a churchmouse and a sick man. When I got there his pigs were running around in about a foot of slop and the little ones and big ones were all running around together. I cleaned out the pens and sorted the pigs into different pens by size. One neighbour told me he's sure I can't get 100 pounds on them in a month. I told him that I'm willing to bet that I can. We settled for five dollars. I thought I don't have anything to lose because that's all I was getting a month. I took the grain to the mill to grind and fed it to the pigs. Those pigs were ready for market in a month. The neighbour never said anything about the bet so I reminded him. I knew he didn't want to pay me but he had to when I got after him. I also worked for Bill McCullough. We were tiling and it was cold and damp. He was down in the drain, laying tile by hand. They were four-inch tiles. I told him that he'll work himself to death with a cold. I noticed thee next morning he could hardly get his cow milked. We got the chores done and went for breakfast. I asked his wife where Bill is and she said he's in bed. She told me to go take a look at him. Bill looked sick and I'm not foolin'. I said we'd better get Dr. Pratt out. The Doctor said that he has to stay on bedrest and told me to keep an eye on Bill's wife. The Doctor wanted to send a nurse out but Mrs. McCullough said she'll look after Bill. Dr. Pratt told me that she'll be in bed by the end of the week. Sure enough, that's what happened. One day I took a load of chop to town and when I came home I wondered what the commotion was. So I went in to the house and Mrs. McCullough said "Here's Sam...He'll find it." She had lost her wedding ring because her fingers were so thin that it fell right off. They had moved her down to the front room the night before so it is easier to look after her. I got down and I saw her bed is right beside a register so I picked up the register and sure enough, the ring was on a little ledge. It would have fallen off if I would have breathed on it. Mrs. McCullough sure was happy that I found her ring. I slept on a roll away bed close to the stove for six weeks. I had to keep the house a certain temperature. The nurse would come every three hours and say "Sam, another block of wood." I didn't have my pants off for six weeks! I never left anybody in the lurch as the saying goes. Another farmer came three times and wanted me to work for him while I was working for Bill. I told him I wouldn't leave somebody when they're sick like that. The last time he came to ask me to help him I told him I would take the pitchfork to him if he comes...and I would have too! I helped for a year. I worked for my board in the winter because I couldn't walk away on them. I stayed till Mrs. McCullough died. I met Jean when I worked for McCulloughs. Her parents' farm was across the road. We dated for five years. I would take her into town for a soda...sometimes the farmer I worked for didn't want me to go.... But I went anyway! We got married in 1937 We stayed on at the Shearers after we got married because Jean had to help her mother out...she had poor eyesight. She died in 1944 while I was overseas. The time that Donna was born...that was 1938...it was so snowy. We had to get Dr. Pratt out. He and Ethel Boyd came...she had to stay for three days because it was so stormy, you couldn't get out the lane to get into town. Jean and Myrtle named her…Jean's middle name was Donelda….I guess that's where the name Donna came from… While I was overseas, Jean and Donna stayed on the farm. When I enlisted in the army... I enlisted in 1941.... I wasn't sure if they would take me because you had to be a certain weight. I was borderline at 120 pounds. We did a lot of hard training, like climbing a rope ladder in mid air then turning around on a little two foot square board and climbing down the other side. I helped fuse land mines in England and drove a jeep even though I never had a driver's license. After three months of fighting, you got a nine-day leave. I always went to Scotland. I still had a brother Bob there. You could always get a cheap bed at the YMCA. When I was in the Army, a lot of people would go to the pub. One night I was awakened by some friends saying they need someone to calm down a native who was getting rowdy. They weren't sure how to handle him so someone said, "Go get Sam...he'll calm him down!" I went and calmed him down. I had no use for Sergeants. Some were good...but not all. I got transferred on to a six-pounder gun. The shells for it weighed 6 pounds. The first time I met Sergeant Pinches I said to the guys with me He's Pinches by name and pinches by nature. I told him that to his face. Pinches didn't like me and we never got along after that. I asked the guys what happened to him. He was looking up to where the aircraft guns were and he drove over a land mine. He didn't drive twenty feet 'til he blew up.... One time we'd dug a foxhole and I said leave it open at both ends; never buy a house with only one door.... That was stupidity that I got wounded in the war. We were going through the Hawkwood Forest in Germany. It was a nice sunshine day, March 2nd 1945, 2 months before the war finished. The guy I was with wanted a cup of tea all the time. I told him old Hitler'll see the smoke right away. As soon as the first puff of smoke went up, the shells started flying. He got killed and I got wounded. A three-inch mortar shell landed in the hole with us. I looked at the guy that was with me and said, "Are you hit?" The next thing I knew his head drooped; he was gone. As soon as you see a head drop you know they're gone. I saw that more than once. He was disemboweled and I was up to my neck in dirt beside him. He was on my right and my right leg was broken. I had shrapnel in my right side too. They had to dig me out, then they threw me on to a stretcher and put me on to a jeep to take me to Basingstoke in England. That was the Canadian Army Hospital. I was there 3 months then shipped back home to London, Ontario. When I was in hospital in London, they'd let us come home sometimes. We'd get to the London train station and somebody'd come and get us home from there. Harry Shiell and I would wait together...each with a beer in our hands. If a policeman came towards us, we'd go opposite directions. That way only one of us could get caught. Sometimes it was hard for anybody to scrounge enough gas coupons so that they could make it down to meet us. Gas was rationed and you couldn't buy it for love nor money without those coupons. Lots of times the neighbours would pitch in. My right leg was shorter than my left after I got hurt in the war but at least I'm still here. My nerves were shot ....I would wake up screaming at night for quite a while after.I got over that but I never got rid of all the shrapnel in my leg. I still have metal pieces that you can feel. Several times, I've had pieces of shrapnel move toward the surface of the bone and form a pimple. After some time they'd come right out... If any one asks about my leg, I tell them "Yes, there's shrapnel in there." I was on crutches a long time. I thought...I'll never get rid of them. I gave up driving and I only shot a gun once after the war. I saw some young fellows practicing one day. They had hung a tire to the limb of the tree and were trying to shoot through the centre of it. I was afraid that they might hit the rubber and get hurt by a ricochet and told them so. I also told them that I could shoot through the tire. They wanted to see me do it so I made them a deal. If I shot through the centre of the tire, they would stop trying. They agreed...so I did. I never fired one since. By the time I got out I'd had enough of jeeps and guns. Later, after Ken Kirk taught Jean to drive, we had a car but she drove it and I paid the bills. By the time I got discharged in 1946, Gordon and Alice had taken over the Shearer farm. I got my VLA money and bought the old Plant house on Victoria Street. The people who owned it before me had rented it out. My house was rented to the MacDonalds and Jean and I had nowhere to go because at that time, a landlord couldn't put tenants out...even if they didn't pay the rent ... Housing was so scarce because everybody was coming home from overseas and setting up housekeeping again. That's why the Earl Johnstons took us in and we became such good friends. We lived with them on the farm before moving to the Coneybeares on Dodd Street*(now Argyle Ave) for a few years. Any way, one day I was putting a new roof on the house and the oldest MacDonald girl started in on me about only doing it so's I could raise the rent. That was a joke because, even if I wanted to, I couldn't...the government wouldn't let you do that back then...I told her straight out that I was just protecting my investment.... That roof needed doing or it was going to leak...all over hers and her mother's stuff...That shut her up! She always was a bit of an outspoken witch anyways... Well...we finally did get moved to that place once things straightened out but it took a while.

I taught Sunday school at Knox church at about that time. One Sunday morning, I showed up at Ernie and Agnes Hilson's* dressed in my suit and tie...but no shirt. I'd lost mine at the Legion the night before and I needed one to wear to Sunday school. I knew Ernie was about my size so I thought I'd ask him for one..... Later, I got my own shirt back...

• Editor's note: Agnes was Jean's sister.I taught the five and six year olds. Someone asked me how I handle them so well. I told him "You have to remember at that age that they get excited and want to tell you if they have a birthday or if something special was on.....If you let them tell you those things first, they can settle down to their lessons sooner." We weren't there long before we moved to Snelgrove and bought the General Store.... Jean was the one who found out about it. She said she always wanted to run one....When we bought the store in Snelgrove, it took every penny Jean and I could scrape together. We got the store but had no stock on the shelves and no money to buy any. It was Earl Johnston who lent us the money to start stocking the store. One day he came down for a visit. As he was leaving, I saw a wad of bills on the floor where he'd been standing. I tried to get him to take them back but he wouldn't. He said I was to pay him back when I could. Earl and Margaret were real good friends. The first few times, the men who brought the supplies for the store were afraid to leave without getting their money because the old owners were not good payers. When they'd ask if I wanted the order and if I'd pay them now, I told them, " If I couldn't afford it, I wouldn't have ordered it. They soon got to trust me. We had the store till 1964 when they widened Highway 10.... We sold it because that store was so close to the road, you stepped off the porch right into traffic. There was no water in the store...I used to have to carry pails of water from the other side of the highway. One time it took me four hours to fetch two pails of water...I had to wait that long for a break in traffic. We sold the store and went to Ireland for a few weeks vacation. By the time we got back, the store had been leveled. It was gone. I used to send money to my Mother in Ireland when she was still living. I had been away from Ireland for 35 years when Jean and I first went back. An old neighbour met me and said "Sam you were one young hellion before you left Ireland, but you're welcome back." Then he shook my hand. He told me that things had calmed down after I left the country. I told him that I had two chums here in Ireland too. My neighbour said "Well Sam it was you who did the thinkin' and the plannin'....or have you forgotten what ya did to ol'Finnegan!" I chuckled. I hadn't forgotten about the time my chum and I had caught the old guy, held him down and shaved off half of the handlebar mustache he'd been growing for forty years......we used to call him Finnegan Beginagain. That stunt was one of the ones that earned me the nickname ...the bad wee man. Jean and I made a few more trips back together and once, I went back to Ireland to see Margaret because she wasn't well and she'd asked about me. That time I went alone. I always got on well with my brother in law Herb Lennox. When the new addition was built at the High School, they had an Open House. Herb and Myrtle and Jean and I went to the Open House. The women wanted to stop in every room and look at everything. Herb and I got tired of it so we went our way and got through before Jean and Myrtle were ready to go. We didn't tell the women where we were going but walked home without them for a joke. "Now I can say I've been all the way through high school....yep....in one door and out the other." We usually took holidays every year after we sold the store. Herb and Myrtle would often go on holiday with us. One time, we all rented a cottage at Port Franks.... There was Myrtle and Herb.... and they brought Marlene and Glen's oldest girl...Bonnie, Marion and Dave Lennox *...and their granddaughter Anne Harrison... and Jean and I and Colleen and Kelly. *Editors note: Marion Lennox was Jean's oldest sister and Dave was Herb's brother. I used to try to wake Bonnie and Anne up real early because they complained about not sleeping good. They said I snored and it kept them awake.... So I made sure I woke them! The cottage we rented was bloody awful...It rained for a couple of days straight and the roof leaked. One night I put my cot under the kitchen table. I told everyone that it was the only dry spot in the whole bloody place! Other times we'd take Colleen and Kelly and just go away for a few days. Jean always said I could smell a liquor store a mile away, because no matter where we went, I could always find one...even if it was off the beaten path in some place I'd never been before. I proved it to Deb the time we all went to Wheatley to see Carol and Randy and then stopped in to visit Jean's brother Grant at the trailer park there.If I bought a bottle that had a sample size attached. I'd say "The big one must have had pups." Whenever Jean and I came to Listowel, we usually stayed at Myrtle and Herb's. Myrtle and Jean were close...and Myrtle and Herb lived close to the Legion! I know Jean didn't always like it when I went to the Legion but she always made sure I got the chance to keep up with my army buddies. One time, the100th Battery were having a reunion in Harriston and since Deb lived closer, Jean asked Deb to see that I got there and back. Deb took me and dropped me off on Saturday and told me to call when I was ready to go the next day. I asked an old friend I met up with to take me home. He did ...he dropped me off in Snelgrove on the way to the Airport! By noon Sunday, they were looking for me, by five they had called everyone they could think of in Listowel...they called home to Snelgrove...just to see if I was there. Was Jean ever mad when I told her I'd done what I'd planned to do all along! I don't know who she was madder at.... me, Deb or the guy who took me to Snelgrove. Deb said Her Gran would never ask her to be my driver again ..because Jean wouldn't know where I might wind up! I always had great faith in my army buddies...so did Jean...I always kept in touch with them. Ernie May, and Mike Groves were two that I used to go and visit. Ernie used to live right behind Marlene and Glen Shiell's place . Mike lived just across the tracks in Little England. Now, I never used to worry about getting locked out of Myrtle's..I always said "A locked door only kept an honest man out"....if I couldn't get in there.... I'd just keep walking. I knew I could always find somebody to let me in . One time, I kept walking... Straight up Elizabeth Street...to Marlene and Glen's. Their door was open, so I went in and slept on the couch in the porch. I woke up early in the morning and went to rouse them. I went upstairs and asked Marlene "Could a fellow get a cup of coffee in this house?" Marlene got up made coffee and I told some stories while Glen and her got ready for work. When they left, I did too...I cut through their backyard and went to see Ernie May and then went back to Myrtle's.*
• Editor's note: Later I got a phone call from Aunt Myrtle who asked me if I had seen Uncle Sam's teeth. I said no....and come to think of it, I hadn't seen Uncle Sam either. She told me he'd been here. I said that I'd tell Mom and we'd let them know if we found them.... But that's another story....

We lived in Snelgrove for quite a few years after we sold the store. We'd built a house and had a pretty big yard...it was almost a pasture.... one day Jean had a cow look in the kitchen window at her.... I used to love to garden and grow vegetables ...mainly beans, peas, corn and tomatoes. I worked at the hardware store for a while and used to carry a pail of water every day to an old neighbour, Charlie Williams. Charlie and I used to sit on a bench outside his place, and have a drink and a visit every day. We used to have problems with ground hogs invading the garden. Charlie and I would get together on it. We'd cover the one entrance to the ground hogs home and gas them with the lawnmower at the other. That's how I got all those groundhogs for Sunday dinner! I always used to ask if you enjoyed your meal…. and then I'd show you my version of a boarding house reach…I always kept one foot on the floor…and any thing I could reach was fair game! I'd also deliver mail to some neighbours on my way home from work, get caught up on the gossip, and then I'd keep Jean posted about the goings on in town. We were living in Snelgrove when Colleen and Kelly came to live with us. Every winter the laneway was full of snow and they had a hard time walking down the laneway to get to the school bus. So I made tracks in the snow for them to follow. The snow was deep so they just stepped in my footprints in the snow. After a couple of years, I told Colleen it's HER turn to make the tracks. I used to take the kids tobogganing in the winter and in the summer, I'd take them on hikes. Near where we lived, there was a spot where the teenagers or hooligans as I called them...would go to drink beer. Sometimes they'd put the beer in the river to keep it cold. Several times, I'd wade in, get it and take it home. Later, I'd be on the porch, sipping on a cold beer when they walked by and I'd wave my beer at them. They thought I was just being friendly...they never knew it was THEIR beer I was waving at them! I used to try to keep the kids busy...but once in a while they'd get bored and pull one over on me.... I always kept a few beer downstairs in the basement and there was a full case this time.... Those little buggers took EVERY bottle and hid them all over the basement. When I went down, the case was empty. They told me I'd have to look for them... They must have been really bored because they did a great job of hiding them. It took me a whole year to find them all! But I did! One thing about me, when I set my mind to something, I do it. I decided one day to quit smoking. It was 1965 and I never smoked after the day I decided to quit. The doctor asked me once what made me decide to quit. I told him that the taxes are going up with every carton I buy. The doctor said "That's as good a reason to quit as any." The doctor was pleased with me for staying at the same weight.He said folks say they have a problem quitting but I always said if someone really wants to quit, they can. We'd always had a cat...we had Tippy for a long time...The last litter she had only had one kitten so we kept him...That was how we got Sylvester. We had him till after we sold the house in Snelgrove and moved to Georgetown in 1986.Shortly after we moved, Sylvester disappeared for over a month. We thought he was gone for good. Then one day he showed up...he just came waltzing in, crawled into Jean's bed for a good long nap, got up and went looking for his food as if he'd never been gone. He looked well cared for so I guess maybe he'd just gone on holiday for a bit. One evening, we walked across the street to our neighbours for a visit. I had gone in sock feet...and when we were ready to walk home it was raining, so the neighbours wife gave me her husband's boots and said I could keep them as her husband wouldn't wear them again ...he was pretty sick.... "They've been a good pair of boots." One time Fred and Colleen stopped in to see us in Georgetown . When they got there, I was on the driveway holding a bottle of Killex. There was a root coming through a crack in the asphalt driveway and I was going to spray it. A few days later, they stopped in again and Jean complained that her lilac bush was dying. I said nothing to Jean but I told Colleen and Fred that I knew why it was dying...I'd sprayed it with Killex. One time the guy who came to cut the grass told me that the tulips were almost done blooming. He said that when they were done, I could just go over them with the lawnmower. I did it as soon as he left. When Jean came out and saw what I had done she told me off ....and called me the bad wee man. Jean thought they had a few weeks to go.... I couldn't wait for them to be done. I never was much for shrubs and flowers...I still remember the time that flowerpot fell off the windowsill onto my head. Jean laughed so hard at me...I had flowers and dirt all over my head...if I didn't know any better...I'd swear that thing had help...at very least it sure had good timing. We lived in the house in Georgetown for ten years before we sold it and moved to Maitland Terrace in Listowel because Jean wanted to move back home. We were at the Terrace for less than a year before she died... Jean and I were married 59 years. We were looking forward to our 60th but the Lord said no. I often said that some marriages break up before the ink is dry on the marriage certificate. But not us. I always said "You must sit down and talk things over."…. " Decide if what you want to buy is necessary."…. "Never buy it unless you can pay for it right away."…. If Jean wanted anything, I always made sure she got it. I always said I married the youngest and best of the Shearer girls! One thing about being in the army, you learn how to take care of yourself. Jean always did most of the housework and cooking but she always told me that as long as there were pigs and chickens that laid eggs, I'd never starve. She knew I could cook..... I always made bacon and eggs. She took care of the rest of the household stuff ... Near the end, it got too much for her...and that was why Marie started coming in. After Jean died, if I needed anything I'd ask Marie. She did my cleaning and laundry weekly. I helped her fold up some bedsheets but I'm not a good laundrymate. I'd tell her to save the water from washing my dirty socks and I'd use it to bake a cake. Sometimes I'd call and ask her if she'd pick up such and such in her travels. Sometimes it was Honeynut Cheerios. I always had a bowl of Honeynut Cheerios and coffee for breakfast. I also got her to pick up the Toronto Star for me every week...I loved to read the newspaper. . I liked teasing her too! There was snow on the ground this one morning. I asked if she ordered the white stuff. I told her to return the order and cancel all other orders. I told her I'd forgive her this time. One other day she came after a dentist appointment and her mouth was still frozen. I told her, "At least you can't talk back when I argue with you!" But one day...did she give me a talking to! I guess she'd been noticing splotches on the wall behind the kitchen sink. She'd try to wash the spots off but the wall was painted with a flat paint so they didn't come off very well. She finally asked me how the splotches got there. "Well," I said, "When I'm sitting at the table having tea, I sometimes just throw my teabags to the sink and sometimes I miss!" She laughed and told me the spots don't wash off very well and that it might be a good idea to stop doing that. After a month or so she noticed some fresh splatters and asked me if I was whipping tea bags around again! I chuckled and said I had! This time, she let me have it. She said she knew I wouldn't have gotten away with it if Jean was still living! I sat where I was on the couch and imitated her.I wagged my finger at her. I nattered at her. I pretended she had really chewed me out. She laughed at me..... but I made sure she didn't see any fresh splatters after that....just so she didn't get really mad at me next time! I always told people when she came for a visit "We don't get along, we're fighting all the time. She's the boss ...I just do whatever she says." She always laughed. I really liked living at the Terrace. Some mornings I'll walk the halls to see if everyone is alive! They call me "Whistling Sam" because they can hear me whistling in the halls. I'd had to move to a one-bedroom apartment after Jean passed away. I told everybody "They're moving me to heaven one step at a time." I was moving up two floors. I kept saying "Only 2 more moves after this; to the hospital and then to the cemetery." When I went for walks around Maitland Terrace, folks would ask me "Who are ya buggin today, Sam?" I'd tell them I was waiting for a chance to get at someone. Henry Spoelstra took me shopping every Thursday. I call him Henery the 8th . Through the week, we got one meal a day, at noon. One thing about living here...if you don't show up for meals, they'll come looking for you. That was good because one day I needed them to find me...... …..Usually for fun, I'd go to the Legion...this one time, ...it was on a Saturday in late October.2000.... I'd been at the Legion till about eleven at night. I took a cab home and got in my apartment. I'm not sure what happened, but when I didn't show up for lunch on Monday, they came and got me... They told me I'd fallen and my bed hadn't been slept in. I guess I'd been laying there for all that time but I didn't remember much... I wasn't worried though ..I just kept telling myself what a lady had told me once...You're just too tough to die!" They took me right to the hospital. Being in the hospital has its good points ...there's always lots of people. The bad thing is they can't dance! I told one of the staff ...she was a nice girl....Jenn Ruby was her name...that she needed a few dance lessons..... We did a turn.... down in the sun room one day. I told her she couldn't keep up with me! One other nice thing ...the hospitals keep you well supplied with mix.....I'd get a can of gingerale from the nurse with the drink cart, open it, take a sip and then wait for Henery the 8th to come...and he always came with a mickey! I knew he'd fix it up....he'd add the rye and we'd have a drink. For medicinal purpose only! The bad thing was...the nurses caught on and stopped him from bringing the rye. It was prohibition all over again! Now I always said "There two kinds of people I can't argue with... women....and doctors...but y'know, I'm starting to think that even if I can't argue with them...maybe I can still get around them....Take lifting prohibition for instance! When I talked to the Doctor about it, he said I could have a drink or two and prescribed it for me! But he also told me I couldn't go back to live at the Terrace and that I'd need to be taken care of. He told me to think over what I wanted to do. Well... I got thinking about it .......and when Kathy asked where I'd like to go .... I said.... Well, maybe I could always just shack up with Marie... Kathy laughed pretty hard when I told her that Marie was the nice, ...and young....about 20 years old, single, wee Mennonite girl who'd taken good care of me since Jean died....hmmm ….the more I think about it.....Y'know I might just ask!" Well .....I never did ask her....even though Marie had said I could make my own decision on it! She came to see me often while I was in hospital. On Nov. 11th, she came to take me to the Remembrance Day Service. I had gotten permission to go...but I wasn't feeling up to it. I thought I was coming down with a cold. Marie told me I should tell the nurses. I said " They'll think I just want to keep them on their feet!" So I stayed in. When she left, she said "Bye Sam, Take care of yourself." I said "Yeah, and you do the same." I was still feeling a bit stuffy but ready for company when Deb and Dianne stopped in later that night with a bottle of pop for me... I had some and then set it aside. ..….. Sam passed away, peacefully, at about 10:15 pm, November 12, 2000. His daughter Donna and niece Marlene were at his bedside.. He always said "I never say Good bye because Good bye is so final and I've said too many of them…I just say"So long." Well, he never said 'So long" and he never said "Goodbye." He just slipped away quietly while receiving care from the nurse.

Uncle Sam's Dictionary….

Pennies: The sunburnt ones. Bills: Dunners Family Photos: Rogues Gallery Snow Flakes: The white mosquitoes Willow sticks used for giving lickings: Gads Vacuum cleaner: a lovely piano Sample size liquor bottles: pupsBoarding House Reach: Anything you can get, providing you keep one foot on the floor His last pair of glasses: Just a bit of fence wire and glass. Sign on his door:All our visitors bring happiness. Some by coming, others by going.

Nicknames he earned The bad wee man Whistling Sam Oilcan Sam

Nicknames He Gave Henry Spoelstra: Henery the 8th Colleen and Fred's dog Silver: The heavy chin

…..Wit ......

Don't do anything I wouldn't do.*

*This is the saying that sends an absolute chill up my spine... Think about it.......Is there anything he wouldn't do? 

Ha, what's the difference? What the Sam hell is going on here?How'd you like the meat you just ate? I just caught that groundhog fresh this morning. I washed my dirty socks and used the water to bake a cake. You're welcome....welcome as the flowers in May.I say like the Salvation Army, Lord willing and weather permitting. There's a lot of peculiar people out there but some are more peculiar than others. Nowadays they call them Weirdoes! All aboard .....and if ya can't get aboard, .....get a rail! Ya can't sink Ireland because there's a Cork in it. I'm a corpse!I'll be looking for ya at the fence posts and drag you in by the back legs. If I die, I'll call ya! Birthdays are like baths. They come and they go whether you need them or not! Only 2 more moves after this; to the hospital and then to the cemetery. They're moving me to heaven one step at a time.Just because a cat has kittens in a dog's kennel, that doesn't make them pups You can't talk back when I argue with you.The Irish say: Six days shalt thou labour and Sunday the seventh day you patch your clothes. Now I can say I've been ALL through high school...Yep...in one door and out the other. Look the sun's out: Yeah but where's the daughter? Before answering the phone: Yeah..Yeah...Buckingham Palace On digging foxholes: Leave it open at both ends..never buy a house with only one door. On ordering the white stuff: Return the order and cancel all other orders. On sunny days: I saw that the sun is starting to blink. Sam's Philosophy: Life is a ball. On what he remembers best: "I don't know….there's a lot to pick and choose from…" Some mornings I'll walk the halls to see if everyone is alive! I just signed bankruptcy this morning. I'll learn ya, I'll get ya educated yet. Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and a Sloppy Easter!

.......and Wisdom

When the Lord says it's time...ya gotta go... ....A locked door only kept an honest man out..... .....Ya can't trust a lot of people..........There's a lot of peculiar people out there..some are just more peculiar than others... Never take any wooden nickels. ....There is no glory in war. .....War is just blood and guts. .....You either shoot him or he shoots you. ......people who make money from war are millionaires..........People say it's a wicked world.....it's not the world, it's the people in it..... ....You must sit down and talk things over..... .....Decide if what you want to buy is necessary..... .....Never buy it unless you can pay for it right away.........You have to remember at that age that they get excited and want to tell you if they have a birthday or if something special was on....... ......If you let them tell you those things first, they can settle down to their lessons sooner." .... Never buy a house with only one door....Some marriages break up before the ink is dry on the marriage certificate. Everyone wants to go to heaven but nobody wants to die to get there. ......there's only one Bible and the Lord never said there's supposed to be Lutheran, Catholic, Mennonite, Presbyterian and all these other churches.... why are there so many ways of believing the same Bible….

The Last WordNormally, the credits for something like this would show up at the very end but if you keep reading, I think you'll understand why I chose to put them here. 

I would like to thank:Marie Brubacher- for writing down the stories and sharing them with us. Marie also chased people around so that stories were submitted in time for inclusion. Colleen- for supplying original pictures, and stories. Fred- for printing the pictures Donna-for supplying stories and verifying details Kelly- for supplying stories and tributes Dianne- for supplying stories and tributes. Deb-for supplying stories. Aunt Myrtle- for supplying stories. Shane Lennox- for supplying stories Mrs. Mary Holmes- for supplying stories Jackie Perkovic- for supplying stories. Fred LeMay- for supplying stories. Marlene Shiell- for supplying stories. Mom also hosted the original get together, and the one we had to discuss the book Thanks Mom....and the same to everyone else!Most of all ......thanks to Uncle Sam.....for being the man that he was. At Mom's after the funeral I was struck by the sense that, Sam's death had achieved what he'd tried to do in life....tell stories that bring people together in laughter. I felt I had to do this....and in the course of doing it...... the feeling grew stronger. In a sense, I felt called upon to do it and I thoroughly enjoyed it! Before beginning this project, I figured I knew Sam probably about as well as any of his great-nieces. Some of the stories about Sam were more like family legends. Others were ones I had never heard before. After assembling and editing all of the material for this publication, I decided that it needed an ending...the book itself was Sam's epitaph... but how do you end it? In order to write the ending, I had some important questions to answer. As it turned out I had all the answers I needed...all I had to do was read the book… I was just asking the wrong questions.. How can you sum up a life that spanned almost a century? So I read the book. "Well".... and I quote Sam... "There's a lot to pick and choose from....." And pick and choose I did! The choices were tough but I had fun doing it.... Who was Sam McIntyre? Nothing would do but read the book again...He was a husband, father, grandfather, great-grandfather and great-great grandfather, not to mention war hero, store proprietor..friend. etc Ok... That takes care of the what. Now for who? Again, I read the book. Sam McIntyre was a man who faced life on his own terms. He was a man who remained true to his principles yet always remained open to new ideas. He accepted people for who they were and did not suffer fools gladly. He was quick to spot hypocrisy and sanctimony and quick to respond. He was a man who gave and received love unconditionally.... and was not afraid to show it in his own inimitable style! He used his indomitable sense of humour to sustain him in sometimes horrific circumstances that would have destroyed many ordinary men. Yet he survived. And survive he did... with a vengeance and with his wit in tact until the very end! In short, Sam was a man who loved life. And as always, he said it best. "Y'know ...life is a ball..." What is a fitting tribute to such a man? Again I read the book...Somehow, to me.... even a labor of love like assembling this book.... didn't seem like quite the fitting tribute. Each and every tribute cites personal qualities and life time accomplishments. Sam exemplified so many that I tried to cover in this book...I hope I succeeded but...read the answer to the first question! He was a remarkable man with a singular approach to life and it was hard to select life incidents and stories or sayings that adequately reflected those qualities. Yet, to my mind, the most remarkable part was that he even met his death on his own terms...Four years before his death, he said that his next move would be to the hospital and then to the cemetery. He also said, "When the Lord says it's time, Ya gotta go!" He was right on both counts....and that led me to... How do you say goodbye? One more time...I read the book... The short answer is you can't.... Not and still honour Sam!Sam said that he never says good bye because good-byes were so final. And he never did. Now for the most difficult questions of all.... What WAS an appropriate tribute to Uncle Sam?I read and reread the book before it dawned on me that I was asking the wrong question. The next question should be...Who should get the final WORD! The answer was obvious! Well ...Uncle Sam of course! After all the stories have been told, the punch lines written.... the witticisms recorded...giving Uncle Sam the last word would be the best, most fitting, tribute anyone could ever give the man ....Now the question needed to be..Which word? So I read the book again...I knew I HAD find a saying of his that would be a good closing line and still reflect why we had done this in the first place. Well, I found the perfect saying...and you have to believe me... like most of Uncle Sam's sayings, it has a nugget of truth that says it all.... It's short, sweet and to the point. It is the epitome of an Uncle Sam saying! To me, it is an acknowledgement of what inspired us to write this in the first place ...and it's the perfect closing line ...THE LINE that will give him the one thing he'd always enjoyed in life...the VERY LAST WORD!! And that's why the credits aren't where they should be. Finally...how was I going to end this in a way that was meaningful to everyone....and, please forgive a bit of selfishness on my part, meaningful to me? This time I didn't have to read the book! So if you don't mind...I'd like to share with you a small part of my last conversation with Uncle Sam. And then ...I promise.....I'll end this epic with the ultimate Uncle Sam saying...Here goes.. Me: Hi.Uncle Sam! ...It's Glen and Marlene Shiell's daughter Kathy...Hi,...... ........remember me?.. How are you doing? Sam: "I'm a corpse!" .......now for the closing line I promised:....... "If I die, I'll call ya!"

1. ↑ ^{1.0 1.1 1.2 1.3} Ada Jane Shearer and The Shearer Historians. Shearer Family History. (Created in Elma Township in 1938 and maintained by Shearer Reunion Historians. Information was reported by knowledgeable family members and was well maintained in the early years.).
2. ↑ ^{2.0 2.1 2.2 2.3} Isa Cleland. Information that Isa researched on the Shearers. (This information was gathered by Isa until her death in 1999. Most is copied from the Shearer Family Tree.).