Norman Scheel’s father, August, came from Switzerland. He came to Almonte to work for the Canadian Pacific Railway Company, and found a house for his family right beside the tracks on a small rocky knoll where Church Street dips down six or seven feet to carry traffic over the level crossing.
Church Street School was opened for classes right after New Year’s, 1870, and the stone building with the big yard in back was really on the very edge of the town, and yet right in town too.
All the boys from the other side of the tracks made their way to school by Norman’s house, and it came to pass that two of them, Dunc Lorimer and his friend would stop and pick up Norman and move on to the school as a threesome.
Frequently, they found that Norman’s father, August, was working around the rocky spurs in his front lawn, or trimming the hedge alongside the tracks, or something of the like to make the house not only a house, but a place of beauty.
It also came to pass after two or three years that August fell ill, and could work no more on the railway right of way, and the boys found him more and more frequently sitting in a rocking chair out on the front verandah of the house, gently rocking and watching the world go by through the eyes of the youngsters on their way to school.
After the third summer, the end of Labour Day came and the end of swimming at the front bridge, and Dunc and his friend once more made their way towards the Church Street School, and stopped as was their usual custom to pick up Norman Scheel. They asked about Norman’s father, and found that he had died during the summer.
“That kind of figures,” said Dunc.
“What figures, Dunc?” Norman asked.
“Your father’s death.”
“How do you mean?”
“I always figured come the first of September, we’d see the end of August.”
