July 1972 – Gravelbourg, Saskatchewan
The second-floor loft of my grandparent’s home was seldom used, but when my brother Brad and I stayed with them in the summer, Grandma would make beds for us up there.
There was a narrow set of stairs in the main floor bathroom, that led to a storage area. A few steps to the right of the upper threshold, over a creaky wooden floor, was an open room where we slept.
There were boxes, books and bric-á-brac covering most of the space, some of which had been there since The Great Depression.
My grandparent’s house was warm and welcoming, but I was always a little afraid of our attic accommodation. One night in 1972, my trepidation turned to abject terror!
I had spent the day with a cousin some distance from my grandparent’s place and was dropped off late in the evening.
Sometime during the day, my uncle Jim had returned home from a posting in the far Canadian North. Grandma, Grandpa and Jim had gone over to another uncle’s place to have a reunion visit, so the house was empty when I showed up.
I didn’t turn on any lights (Grandma had a thing about wasting electricity), so the stairway was pitch dark as I ascended to the attic room. There was a glimmer of light coming through a small window at the top of the stairs, just enough to reveal a lunging Polar Bear!
When Uncle Jim returned from the North, he brought a Polar Bear rug with him. Jim had draped the bear over a chair in the attic, with the gaping head on the seat. The terrifying jaws were at eye level as I emerged from the stairs.
My first encounter with a polar bear left a lasting impression, and …
… a small stain on the front of my pants.
GG
Hilarious, even if apocryphal.
Russ Paton
I had to look that one up. The bear in G’ma’s attic story is mostly true. Wiggle Your Worm, now that is purely apocryphal….
Rho
Too funny, Russ!! Love it!!
Russ Paton
Thanks Rho, full disclosure on that piece!