Georgetown has a long tradition of hosting car shows to benefit cancer research. Here’s news about this year’s show.

On Father’s Day June 17 this year we will be holding our 25^th (silver) event. Way back in 1988 was when the show was formulated. A group of local auto enthusiasts began hosting the annual event. How did this excellent show start? Well-known local businessman Neil Young who not only is a classic car enthusiast but also a racing driver got together with some friends including former Georgetown mayor Weldon ”Steamer” Emerson and volunteers with the local cancer society to organize a classical outdoor concert and garden party which was also a strawberry social. Young decided to have a few classic cars at the event. It was then decided to have a separate auto show and so Neil with some friends and Steamer formulated the Classics Against Cancer event which now enters its 25^th year. Over the years it has grown to one of the premier car shows in Ontario as well as one of the largest juried shows.

Tradition continues and many of the original exhibitors still come along year after year. Classic cars are usually classified as 20 years or older but generally speaking almost all events use 1980 and earlier as classic cars. The event is held at the beautiful Cedarvale Park in downtown Georgetown in Halton Hills. This is a beautiful location and is only 15 minutes north of the 401.

In the first year there were some 135 cars. Today you can view anything between 300 and 400. Exhibitors come from all over central Ontario and even the States. At the event you will see every kind of classic car from the model T to pre-war large stylish American cars to the muscle cars of the ‘60s and ‘70s. There are even a number of European and British cars. You will see trucks and jeeps as well as old cop cars! Those car enthusiasts who would like to exhibit their post 1980-cars can do so as we have special “Lowered Intention” sections for newer cars. So bring along that ‘85
Ferrari or 1990 Jag or Lamborghini, or even your modified 300. They are all welcome.

There is fun for the kids, great food and many vendors selling car stuff! There is a DJ and so you will hear great music from the ‘50s, ‘70s and more. All funds raised will benefit the Childhood Cancer campaign. Over the past 24 years almost half a million dollars have been raised for various cancer causes.

So come on out, take a drive to the country and enjoy a great Father’s Day, of course fun for all the family as well.
For further details view our website classicsagainstcancer.on.ca or email Danny Edwards at danielr@cinemas3.ca or call Chris Miller at 905-877-6826.

Charles Hildebrandt on The Bruce Trail, Sept. 26, 1976. Photograph by Sally.

My father, and a contributor to the magazine, died yesterday. Here’s his obituary:

At Oakville Trafalgar Hospital, on April 17, 2012, Charles, aged 87, of suspected lung cancer (mesothelioma). A lifelong naturalist and conservationist, he emigrated from Germany in 1951, later opening Charles Hildebrandt Insulation Ltd., with offices in Toronto, Sudbury and Kitchener. He served two terms as a town councillor for Georgetown in the early ‘60s. Upon early retirement he gave his time to gardening, maintaining his 16-acre nature preserve, travelling, leading hikers & snowshoers through wilderness areas around the world, photography, writing, carpentry, and studying. He earned his B.A. when he was 79. He was learning Spanish, his third foreign language, in his mid 80s.
Difficult for his family to love, he combined strict discipline with soft sentimentality. He was devoted to the care in her later years, of his wife Ursula, who pre-deceased him in 2007. He is survived by his daughters Barbara Jennings and Gloria (Mike Davis), grandchildren Donna Herold (Tony), Brit, Trent (Jackie) & Grant Jennings (Karen), great-grandchildren Paul, Niko, Brooklyn, Breeana, Fiona, and his little dog Thomas.
Burial will be on Fri. April 20 at 2 pm in Greenwood Cemetery, Georgetown. A celebration of his life will be on Sat. April 28, 2 to 4 pm at Jones’ Funeral Home, 11582 Trafalgar Rd.
In memory contributions to Escarpment Biosphere Conservancy or Nature Conservancy of Canada would be appreciated. Feel free to leave your comments, remembrances or expressions of sympathy by clicking on Comments below.
I’m having trouble editing the captions of these photos! Sally Phillips took the above photo. Here’s a more recent photo of Charles, taken by Brien Young.

In His Environment by Sally Phillips

New L4600 tractor shown with front loader and backhoe from Kubota

Kubota is pleased to introduce the newly designed and more powerful L4600 to its L-Series line of standard tractors. It offers optimal performance and versatility to meet the demanding needs of its users. For a higher level of performance and confidence, the L4600 has been redesigned and re-engineered from the bottom up. It has a new curved hood with matching fenders, multiple headlamps, an easy-to-read dash panel, a more powerful clean emissions Kubota diesel engine that corresponds to Interim Tier 4 regulations and the choice of gear-drive or HST transmissions. The L4600’s new front loader and backhoe deliver strength and versatility for almost any job. Kubota’s new quick attach/detach front loader has a curved boom and is designed to improve lifting power and height along with long-lasting durability. The backhoe is convenient as it offers quick attach/detach with a full-mount subframe ensuring sturdiness. While using these implements, know that the L4600 brings more comfort to hard work, with a spacious and ergonomic operator layout, suspension seat and more. Please visit www.kubota.ca for more information or visit your local dealership.

Halton’s 12^th annual EcoFest will happen Sat. April 14 at Glen Abbey Rec Centre in Oakville and again, Escarpment Views will take part and give away freebies. Some of our friends and advertisers will also be exhibiting and handing out goodies or selling treasures at low prices. Among the official sponsors are Conservation Halton and Halton Peel Biodiversity Network. The many interesting exhibitors include Whole Village Ecovillage, Wastewise, smart Centre Oakville, POWER, Halton Environmental Network, Habitat for Humanity Halton, and Fern Ridge Landscaping. EcoFest has been organized for 12 years by Oakville Community Centre for Peace, Ecology and Human Rights.
     Admission is free. EcoFest is open 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. on April 14. The Rec Centre is at 1415 Third Line at Upper Middle Road, Oakville. Plan to have a meal there! The food is exceptional: multigrain pizza, samosas, pakoras, baked goods, organic pop, juice and fair trade coffee. We hope to see you there!

Long before our magazine Escarpment Views was created, Mike got a fascinating book about the Niagara Escarpment called Guide to the Geology of the Niagara Escarpment, written by Dr. Walter M. Tovell and published by The Niagara Escarpment Commission in 1992. Remember that the Niagara Escarpment was designated a UNESCO Biosphere Reserve in 1990. It seems to be intended to help with teaching the science of the Escarpment, and it continues to be worth diving into. I don’t know if it’s still in print. Likely not, as I find that many books fade away far before they should. Here is Tovell’s interesting summary of the theories for the origin of the Niagara Escarpment:
     “The Niagara Escarpment consists of Ordovician and Silurian rocks formed from sediments deposited in ancient seas between 445 and 420 million years ago. It is also known that between 23,000 and 12,000 years ago the escarpment was covered with 2-3 km of ice for the last time. Many people used to consider that the Niagara Escarpment was a fault. Such is not the case – it was formed by erosion and existed prior to glaciation. Further evidence indicates that the Niagara Escarpment came into existence during the long preglacial interval and that continuous erosion must have been the cause of its formation.
     “When the land that is now southern Ontario emerged from the seas of the Paleozoic Era at least 245 million or more years ago, drainage networks developed and began the task of eroding the land by removing immense quantities of rocky materials. In this way the Niagara Escarpment developed because of the different hardness of the rock formations. During the development of the escarpment, outliers were formed. These were destroyed by further erosion, and with their destruction the escarpment retreated. Because of erosion the escarpment may have migrated southwestward over much of southern Ontario.”
     So while the Escarpment may look like part of the earth rose up sharply, this explanation has it that erosion wore away the softer materials, leaving the harder rock exposed. Since this was published in 1992, it would be interesting to find out if this still the current theory. Anyone know anything more?

     At first, not being able to read much Spanish, we thought the email was spam. But we could understand enough to wonder if it could possibly be intended for us personally. But who would write us from Cuba? People at the high school where Mike gave some copies of our Spring issue? Then Mike thought to check the contact information that our young rescuer had given us. Sure enough, the email address is Gisela’s, the young woman who led us to her grandparents’ house, went running half a km in the midday blistering sun to phone for an ambulance, and then spent two hours entertaining us with flowers and chickens! If you missed reading about this, see our first blog post about this.
     Thanks to Ursula Vielkind, a German translator who knows Martha Ruben, a Spanish translator, we were able to read the letter. Thanks, Ursula and Martha, you’ve helped with international relations! Here is what Gisela wrote:
     Hello, how are you? I am fine. I would like to know how Gloria continued with her leg. Sometimes I look at the photo on the magazine. I hope that we continue being friends and that you do not have a bad opinion of my country because of what happened. Here we (the Cubans) are very helpful. I am well, my grandparents are well. Recently I finished the English course that I was taking. I like this language. I am working on the same job, but soon I am planning to work on Silla Gibara camping site because it is close to my home and I like to work as a waitress. Please, answer soon, greetings for both. The journal for which you work is very nice. Greetings.
     How kind is Gisela’s follow up and concern? She’s even worried that we might not like Cuba! We replied to her that my leg has healed completely and that the Cuban doctor did a great job. All the Canadian doctors I saw, and there were three as I shuttled between my GP and the Emergency Department a few times when there was concern over infection, agreed that the Cubans had fixed me up well. A note about infection of the knee: apparently, if the joint becomes infected, surgery is required. Hence the uncertainty over the inflammation at the wound. Yikes! But all went well. As I said recently, I am now ready to resume my career as a leg model.
     The only negative in this whole adventure was Sunwing’s inability to find a way for me to elevate or even stretch out my stitched, weeping knee on the flight home. I was jammed into a tiny seat space which forced my knee into a sharp right angle for four hours. A stewardess gave me pillows to cushion my knee against the sudden reclining position of the person in front of me. He, however, was kind enough to keep his chair still after I told him I had an injured knee. You’d think Sunwing could have found space for me somewhere, even a stewardess’s jump seat, so I could have rested my leg.
     But all is well now, and we’re pleased to be e-penpals (e-pals?) with our new Cuban friend Gisella. And I’m happy that she said she likes our magazine. She’s generous and has great taste, as well!

Cover to Halton Region's new children's book

One thing that surprises me is hearing adults tell us that children as young as five years old enjoy Escarpment Views and look forward to each issue. Even boys. I say “even boys” because apparently boys are much more reluctant readers than girls. And we hear in other media that kids in general aren’t interested in reading. Yet they read Escarpment Views. Hmmm.
     We didn’t intend to publish a magazine for children. Indeed, I wouldn’t have the foggiest idea how to do that. We just try to publish the best and most interesting features from the Niagara Escarpment that we can. If children like them, that’s great. They must be clever, enlightened children! It seems appropriate, therefore, to mention the children’s book A Farewell to Featherwagons.
     This picture book written by Beckie Jas, richly illustrated with artwork by Brandon Koepke, is about Barn Owls who drive a “featherwagon” as many other birds do, to the point that there are too many on the road and air quality is negatively effected. Then they experience the signs of climate change until they come up with a natural solution.
     In addition to the story, there are lists of interesting facts, human solutions and “seeking” activities to share with little readers. You can get a copy of this fun book by calling 1-866-442-5866 or download a FREE book!
     And let us know if any kids you know enjoy reading Escarpment Views, and more importantly, why.

Here is the final part of the great Cuban adventure:

The Cuban family that rescued Mike and me (Gloria) when we crashed our rented motor scooter refused to accept any money, although they looked like they could use some desperately.
     The next day, after we had been looked after at the hospital, Mike announced he had to “get back on the horse” and drive the scooter back to our rescuers’ house. We decided to put together a gift bag in the hope that they would accept it. We assembled what we could from our belongings. I gave a pair of red sandals with Velcro straps so they could be adjusted to fit. We added one of tall Mike’s T shirts, which someone could probably wear as a dress! I went through my purse and toiletries, finding items like pens, a bag of peppermints, a sealed pack of gum, soap, a nail file, a comb, creams, lotions and potions. We didn’t want to give anything insulting, such as used toothbrushes, half-empty tubes of toothpaste, or worn underwear, although they might have been able to use them. Although we didn’t have much of value to give, it was better than nothing, we thought.
     Mike took off on the scooter while I stayed on the bed with my bandaged leg elevated. A couple of hours later he returned, saying he met Raquel and her husband Bartolo in the house, and offered the bag of goodies, which Raquel instantly took into the dark recesses of the house. Mike took some photos and as he left, came upon Gisella returning home. Had she been there earlier, she might have refused even our few items.
     Other people at our resort told us that when they go to Cuba they pack new underwear, baby clothes, T shirts and other items to give away. The truth about Cuba seems to be that even with money, there is just not that much to buy, especially in remote areas. While their economy is based on tourism, sugar cane, tobacco and rum, they don’t have much manufacturing and everyday goods that Canadians take for granted are simply not that available. If you’re going to Cuba, you might want to pack a few basic extras to give to people who might need them.
     We are seriously thinking of mailing a package of bandages and first aid supplies to the hospital in Rafael Freyre/Santa Lucia, Province of Holguin, Cuba. Mike says it might not make it to the hospital where we were treated, but it should get into the Cuban system somewhere. Or do you have a better suggestion?

This is the continuation of the post called “The Generosity of Cuban People.”

After the motor scooter accident, I was relieved to see the ambulance. After waiting more than two hours with a bleeding hole in my knee, I looked forward to being put on a soft stretcher and getting some immediate attention. Like maybe a little tranquilizer to make me feel better. And the attendants would start cleaning and bandaging my knee right away.
     I had to climb up into the side door of the ambulance. Inside, it looked like something from World War I. The iron stretcher looked barely padded, with no linen on it. It looked so uncomfortable that I sat on the first hard seat available, which faced the back.
     A handsome, very young man with a stethoscope around his neck sat in the back with me. He looked so young and shy that I suspected he wore the stethoscope only to make people think he was a doctor. He asked, in English, if he could see my knee. I tried to say, in Spanish, that there would be a lot of blood and he would need bandages. He rummaged through containers on an old metal storage rack, but there weren’t any bandages, and no supplies of any kind. “Let’s go,” I said in Spanish.
     The drive was bone jarring and teeth chattering. Out the back window, far in the distance, I could see Mike on the scooter, following me to the hospital two towns away. About half an hour later, we arrived at the hospital.
     I sank gratefully into a rickety iron wheelchair of the same vintage as the ambulance. “First, the washroom,” I demanded in Spanish, because I had not dared to use the outhouse in the chicken yard. I thought it would be wise to wait for the hospital.
     There was no chicken manure in the hospital washroom, but it did not meet my North American expectations. Dirt and grime stained the floor and in the middle of the room yawned a toilet bowl. But no seat. I rapidly took stock of the room and asked for toilet paper. Staff members looked at each other, puzzled, and shook their heads. No toilet paper.
     I straddled the toilet bowl, hoping my aim was true, my wounded knee shaking as I squatted, then gave a couple of shakes to air dry my nether region, and pulled up my pants. No sink to wash my hands. Back into the wheel chair and I was rolled into an operating room.
     Two stainless steel tables were on the left side, but right in front of me on a stretcher was a corpse. At least I thought so, until the man moved. He was as thin as a skeleton, with shoulder and collar bones painfully visible. As I was rolled close to one of the tables, I saw the man wince as a catheter was put into his body. Now I’ve seen everything, I thought.
     I climbed onto a table that had a channel running down the middle to drain blood and fluids away. I thought it was an autopsy table. The young man from the ambulance, clearly now a real doctor, looked at my wound, but needed bottles of liquid to get the cotton wool out. When the hole in my knee was revealed, all the staff leaned in for a look, then pulled back, shaking their heads, making tsking sounds and speaking Spanish. I was not comforted by this.
     Suddenly Mike was at my side, being looked after. He disappeared for an X ray but was back soon. I saw bottles labelled Novocaine being passed to the young doctor. “Tequilla?” I asked for, and the staff laughed. I wasn’t kidding. The nurse beside me told me in Spanish that they didn’t have any. I would have liked some gas, maybe a little nitrous oxide. I got nothing. I lay down and grabbed Mike’s hand. “Talk to me,” I begged, but engineer Mike was speechless, so I closed my eyes and tried to pray as needle after needle poked deeply into the torn flesh around my gaping wound. I managed some of The Lord’s Prayer before drawing a blank and switching to some of the Hail Mary. I could have used a bottle of brandy and a priest. The room was full of hospital staff craning to look at my knee. I was not comforted by this.
     The thing about Novocaine is that it seems to take full effect after the procedure is over. So I felt the stitches going in. I jerked my leg and the staff murmured and the nurse said in Spanish that it would be better if I kept my leg limp. So I kicked out with my other leg.
     The nurse said, and acted out, that they wanted me to get an antibiotic injection in my behind. Years ago, I had been with my friend Seana in Mexico when she got a horse needle in her butt and she had screamed. I knew better now. I clasped my hands together in horror and begged “Madre de Dios, no injection!” The staff laughed and hooted. Oh, I was entertaining.
     The doctor said I needed an X ray because he could see the bone and it could be broken. And if it was broken I’d have to go to the nearby city of Holguin to see an orthopedic surgeon. I was wheeled to the X ray machine, which looked pristine and new. I lay on my back on the glass table as the X ray was taken. Staff re-entered the room and mimed for me to turn over. “Onto my front?” I asked incredulously, thinking how much it would hurt my knee to lie on it. Si, they nodded. Not knowing how to say “torture” in Spanish, I blurted out “Guantanamo Bay!” The staff hooted again. But as I started to roll onto my knee they stopped me. They only needed to X ray the side of my knee.
     Neither Mike nor I had broken bones. I would have to take antibiotic pills and anti-inflammatories and pain killers. I was wheeled outside the hospital and watched the ambulance drive off. Only a few moments later, the ambulance returned and packages of drugs were put in my hands. Hospital staff had gone to the pharmacy for me.
     And get this: although Mike and I had arrived in Cuba with mandatory medical insurance, we were not required to pay or even show our insurance cards, although Mike did offer his. I even asked my young doctor about paying and he squinted and shook his head. “No dineros,” he said.
     That seems to be how Cuban healthcare works. Free ambulance transport. Free emergency care. Free drugs. They even drove me in the rattling ambulance back to our resort. Mike said he wished they had charged some money so they could buy some medical supplies.

Next: How we thanked our rescuers.