Freedom to Play: We Made Our Own Fun

FUN WAS SEASONAL IN EDMONTON

FUN WAS SEASONAL IN EDMONTON W.J. (Bud) Phillips and his friends knew how to have fun through all seasons of the year. Fun was seasonal in Edmonton. As the skies and the ground conditions changed, so did our methods for assuring laughter, seeking adventure, and creating the stories that made the fun last. Summer In June and July, all around town, in sheds and garages, in back yards and empty lots we built our soapboxes in preparation for the race on the first weekend of August. A soapbox was a work of art. The more it could resemble the flashy race cars of the day, the more impressed the crowd would be as it whooshed past on the day of the Derby. It had to have four wheels and the front wheels had to be able to turn so that you could navigate the long downward journey from the MacDonald Hotel, down the McDougall Hill to the flats at the bottom. Now a soapbox was not only a vehicle for show. It had to have speed and agility and it had to be constructed to endure. That’s where most of us found the challenge. There were theories . Every year the theories changed. Would bigger wheels at the back make the thing go faster downhill? If the driver sat nearer the front would the balance be better? Would it be better to have the wheels farther apart? Or closer? On the day of the derby they closed the road down McDougall Hill and the crowds lined the hillside for nearly half a mile. All afternoon the waves of sleek—and not so sleek—soapboxes came down the hill at wildly different speeds and with varying degrees of agility and endurance. For some the race ended at the first curve. Others came to sudden stops along the curb. For some it ended before it began when one of the wheels fell off as the thing was being pushed to the starting line. For others the long ride down the hill, with the wind in your face and the crowd cheering you on was the most exhilarating thing all year. And for everyone who had worked for weeks planning, conceiving, designing, and building the vehicle, there was always next year. There Was Always Something to Do 195 Fall Back to school meant back with your friends on the team. We followed the Pro teams so in the fall we played baseball and imagined ourselves in the world series. Later in the fall we prepared ourselves for our version of the Grey Cup game—ours was played on the morning of the day of the big game. And all winter long we mimicked and learned from the Edmonton Flyers and got to go to the games with our dad—or maybe our friend’s dad. Ken McCauley and Pug Young, Gordie Watts, and Elmer Kreller were my heroes. It was absolutely the very best when we beat the Calgary Stampeders. Every Saturday night we would play Monopoly and listen to Hockey Night in Canada. I realize now it didn’t matter if the Leafs won or lost. We were inspired to play street hockey the next day or practised all the harder on the open frozen rink down near the school where we were preparing for our big chance some day. Winter Then there were the toboggans and bobsleighs. We played on them with such determination and vigour that it became dangerous . I remember wrapping Bobby Cushley around a tree trunk at the bottom of Deadman’s Hill in Whitemud because our bobsled didn’t turn when it was supposed to. I remember riding a toboggan right through a thick bush because the four of us on it couldn’t get it to stop or turn, and we didn’t have the sense to fall off it on purpose and hold the rope. I remember trying to find just the right wax for the bottom of the toboggan so that ours would surely pass all the others on the open race down the hill under the ski jump. And I remember thinking that it must be wonderful to sweep down the snow-covered wooden track on the high ski jump and take off through the air on skis, and see the skyline of the city from up there. But I never tried it. Spring When the snow melted in March or April there were at least three weeks of great matchstick racing...