Remembering Flying Officer Jim Morris: 'Every day is Remembrance Day' for 75 years

Rotary Park

By Michael J Morris

Rotary Park in the very heart of Cranbrook's downtown core has been one of my favourite places in the city ever since I arrived here 29 years ago just about now.

Over the years I have often stopped there to rest when on a walkabout of that part of the city, but this time I had a special reason for a visit. The cenotaph and Wall of Honour are located there, and for me it was the place to go and spend a few moments in quiet reflection on a long ago incident that affected me and my family and the lives we have led.

Seventy-five years ago, on July 16, 1943, a Wellington bomber took off from an air force base in England. It was to be a short height test flight around the airfield only.

The last entry in the pilot's log book written later by the squadron's wing commander was, "Aircraft exploded in air."

The usual telegram was sent by the war office, expressing regret that Flying Officer James E. Morris, my father,  was killed while on active service in the Royal Canadian Air Force, July 16,1943. Similar messages would have been sent to the families of my father's crew who were on the flight with him. The crew members were five Canadian boys, from Ontario, Alberta and Saskatchewan, brought together  because of Canada's participation in World War II.

Dad shortly before he was killed 1943

Upon arriving at Rotary Park, I stopped at the cenotaph located in about the exact middle of the park, and read the inscription: "To the honour and memory of OUR BOYS from Cranbrook district who gave themselves for liberty." Every one of those inscribed on the cenotaph, like me, had a family and friends, and I shared a moment with them.

I headed over to the Wall of Honour, a project spearheaded by the Cranbrook Firefighters and Branch Number 24 of the Royal Canadian Legion where the names of those who served their country in the Boer War, World War I, World War II and Korea are inscribed.

As I stood looking at the wall with the Canadian Ensign, Maple Leaf and Union Jack flags fluttering above me, I thought what a truly amazing project it was to have undertaken and to all those who made it a reality -- thank you.

On the other side of the Wall of Honour is  a mural entitled Valour Remembered and a plaque says it was done as a Millenneum Project from the time Cranbrook and district had people involved in the Boer war in 1900 to 2000. The mural was painted by the distinguished internationally acclaimed Canadian artist Joseph Cross, who lives in Cranbrook.

The latest addition to the site is a Garden of Remembrance opened in June 2011.

I sat down on a park bench for some reflection.

My Dad and Mom on Wedding day 1940

Although I didn't know it at the time, July 16, 1943, was destined to be the most significant turning point in my life, and I wasn't even two years old when my father's plane exploded in air and crashed over the English countryside during World War II. In fact, that date had a profound effect on my entire family. Nobody was ever quite the same again. Of course, in 1943, I wasn't really aware of what life was like for my mother, Muriel E. (Hunt) Morris, my grandparents Harry and Lil Morris and George and Edith Hunt, my father's sister Marion, and the close relationship they all had. 

Me with my Dad 1942 Only photo of us

My grandmother Hunt was in England at the time working as a war nurse and my father had visited her the weekend before he was killed. She attended his funeral and burial in Ripon Cemetery, Yorkshire, England. Grandpa Hunt was with us in Chapleau.

Jim Morris 

My father, like so many who joined Canada's armed forces during World War II was an ordinary Canadian from a small town, in his case, Chapleau, Ontario where he was born and raised, called upon to perform the exceptional. There was absolutely no doubt in their minds whatsoever that it was the right thing for them to do. I am sure there are many here in Cranbrook who felt the same way.

After his death, The Evening Telegram of Toronto reported that my father took to flying in his early teens and became associated with several of Canada's early bush pilots who were operating in the Chapleau area. Actually he was going down to the waterfront and getting rides and learning to fly planes, thinking that my grandmother didn't know what was going on. But she did. Mothers always know!  

In 1940 my father enlisted in the RCAF at Moncton, New Brunswick. He became a flying instructor and was posted to No. 10 Elementary Flying Training School at Mount Hope. He was among the first instructors in the Commonwealth Air Training Plan. In 1942 he went overseas. I was born on November 3, 1941.

On November 11, Remembrance Day, we pause for a moment, and for some of us, for much more than a moment, to remember all those who died in war. For those of us affected so profoundly by war, we live with a day of remembrance each day of our lives.

My mother who likely never missed a Remembrance Day service, once told me that "Every day is remembrance day."  I thought of my mother's words before I headed off to Rotary Park and knew it was the right thing to do.

Stephen Hayter, the executive director, of the Commonwealth Air Training Plan Museum in Brandon, Manitoba, has agreed to include my father's  RCAF material in a display there.

In an email to me, Mr. Hayter wrote: "It is your father's story that we wish to preserve for future generations...Your father's name is also listed in our memorial book They Shall Grow Not Old which also states that he was part of #432 Leaside Squadron (Saevitir Ad Lucem), and that his Wellington aircraft #JA 119 crashed one and one half miles west of Malton, Yorkshire."  

Me 2018. a Michael Pelzer photo

As I was leaving the park I noticed another plaque in memory of Soren Johnson, a horticulturist who was instrumental in tree selection for  Cranbrook Rotary Club in 1928 that created the beautiful urban forest in the downtown core.

What a beautiful place it is and what visionaries the members of the 1928 Rotary Club were to create it. And thanks to Cranbrook Firefighters, Branch Number 24 of the Royal Canadian Legion and all the rest who were involved in creating the Wall of Honour. 

They shall grow not old, not at all, for you will always remember yours as I remember mine. My email is mj.morris@live.ca

Leo Racicot worked on Canadian Pacific Railway for 51 years also an ardent curler and reeve of Chapleau

Leo Racicot started with the Canadian Pacific Railway at age 14 and retired 51 years later after gaining a broad knowledge of its operations "during the years when railroading was an exciting but hazardous occupation. 

Mr. Racicot started his career in Bonfield where he was born. as a water tank pumper, then moved on to become an extra gang clerk and section man. 

In 1909 he became assistant clerk to the roadmaster at Mattawa and then it was off to Schreiber to work in the shops.

Shortly thereafter he moved to Chapleau where he worked as a brakeman with a stint as a yardmaster. 

By 1912 he passed his conductor exams and served on freight and passenger trains, on east and west ends, on freight and passenger trains until he retired on August 14, 1957.

A Sudbury Star article about Mr. Racicot notes that he was one of few Chapleau railroaders to receive a Golden Pass on retirement after 50 years of service. The pass was presented to Mr. Racicot by N.R. Crump, the CPR president.

Mr. Racicot became very much a part of community life after moving to Chapleau, particularly on sports, baseball and curling with the latter his favourite. The article refers to him as an ardent curler.

In 1929 and 1932 Chapleau hosted Northern Ontario Curling association bonspiels and in 1932 a rink skipped by Mr. Racicot reached the finals. Other rink members were Harry Morris (my grandfather), Vince Crichton, and A. Kinahan.

"8 Enders Club" left to right. Tommy Therriault, Vince Crichton, Harry Morris, L. Evans, Leo Racicot, Newt Pellow, A.J. Vale, P. Merrifield

In 1936, first and maybe only meeting of the "8 Ender" club was held at the Urwelkum Inn  at Devon. It was referred to (by the Members) as the "most exclusive club in the world as far as we know, the only one of its kind in the world." Mr. Racicot was a member.  See photo for all the members.

When I was doing a piece on the club some time ago, Dr Vince Crichton, son of Vince the member explained that "An 8 ender is where a team comprised of a skip, third, second and lead score the maximum number of points in one end which is 8 – each team has 8 rocks to throw and if all in the rings, and no opposition rocks closer to the button (absolute centre) then they count 8 points or however many are closer than the opposition.  Not many attain this hallowed ground..." Thanks Vince.  

He also donated the Racicot Trophy to the Ladies Curling Club.

Back at the CPR, for 15 years Mr. Racicot was local chairman of the Brotherhood of Locomotive Trainmen. 

He served on the township council from 1942 to 1947, returning to public life to serve as Reeve of Chapleau from 1956 to 1959. For a short time he was also administrator of the Lady Minto Hospital.

Mr. Racicot also won many prizes for his lawn and garden as a member of the Chapleau Horticultural Society.

He moved to Oshawa to retire. Upon his death, funeral service was held at Sacred Heart Roman Catholic Church with Rev. Father Laurent Dube officiating. Mr. Racicot had been an active member of the church when he lived in Chapleau.

My email is mj.morris@live.ca

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Canadian Pacific Railway kept pace with Chapleau in community's first 50 years

By 1888 Chapleau had a public library housed in a passenger coach with over two thousand volumes of "fine literature", according to a handwritten history of the community's first 50 years in the Richard Brownlee Papers.

The books were provided by Sir William Van Horne, president of the Canadian Pacific Railway, a project that he apparently undertook in other communities too.

In browsing through the article, I decided to start with the anecdote about the donation by Mr. Van Horne which showed his interest in much more than just establishing Chapleau as a railway divisional point with a station, round house, etc. His interest in providing reading material is a story in itself for another day.

Back to the railway, the article says the "round house, a necessity in a railroad town had no doors and when the snow piled up, the section men shovelled it out. The oil was kept outside and had to be heated on stoves. The railroaders had a hard winter in those early days but they were hardy men".

D. O. Payette. who arrived in 1904 put living in Chapleau in context in those early years in an interview with the article writer.

Mr. Payette commented: "At least one half of Chapleau was bush. There were no electric lights and coal oil was used almost exclusively for lighting purposes. The stores and hotels used acetylene gas. The water supply was had from pitcher pumps which drew the water from well points driven into the ground at varying depths."

However, Chapleau continued to make progress as did the CPR by enlarging the shops and round house, building station, freight sheds, large ice house and building several dwellings.

Fast forward to the 1930s and the writers decided to "tell you someting of this busy little railroad town. It had become a divisional point where entire train crews were exchanged as well as engines which filled up with coal for the next part of the journey.

in 1937 an addition was added to the shops to house new enlarged engines. A new coal chutes was built at the north end of the Chapleau yards and it was there that all engines were filled with coal.

They added that "Like all such towns its prosperity depends a great deal upon the railroad. When the railway is busy, the town booms and a slump in the 'road' means a slump in the town's commerce". 

But railroading was not the only industry and that is a story for another day. Thanks again to Margaret Rose (Payette) and Bobby Fortin for the loan of Richard Brownlee Papers. My email is mj.morris@live.ca

NOTE Thanks to all who kept me informed about the recent storm, with special thanks to Lee Martin for photos of tree in my old yard on Grey Street. I planted that tree after the forest fire of 1948.