February 20, 1977 – Arcola, Saskatchewan
Dead Ted’s isn’t the only spiritual establishment in Arcola. In fact, on a scale of 1 to 2, Ted’s Tavern ranks second in most categories. Ted’s is tops in the “oldest”, “least expensive”, “smelliest” and “most likely to fall over” categories; for an elevated imbibing experience, the High House Saloon is the establishment of choice for Arcola’s more refined drinkers.
Standing at the corner of Main Street and Souris Avenue under the watchful eye of the Unknown Soldier, the High House Saloon occupies the second floor of what was once the Town Hall.
The old Town Hall building is an impressive structure, built of locally mined, tawny brick. It has a grand entrance and high, panelled windows, with a splendid view of Arcola’s commercial district.
In addition to being the seat of local government, the Town Hall has variously functioned as a library, gymnasium, dance hall, fire hall, restaurant, municipal office, constabulary, and a jail. In its most recent reincarnation, there is a pizza place on the main floor and the High House Saloon occupies the upper level.
When the building was originally built it had a bell tower on the south-east corner but, over the years, wind, hail and lightning took their toll and the tower had to be dismantled. The bell was salvaged however, and now occupies a prominent place at the foot of the stairs leading up to the High House Saloon.
Arcola residents hadn’t heard the bell toll since the 1950s, but late on the night of February 20, 1977, the bell rang once again, loud and clear.
The winter of 1977 was a typical Saskatchewan hibernal season. The wind blew daily and piled snow in drifts along Main Street, sun dogs bracketed the dim, low-hanging orb and the mercury in the Town Hall thermometer dropped deep into its scrotum.
The statue of the Unknown Soldier, standing in front of the building, seemed to be shivering as the day of February 20th passed into night.
Despite the deep freeze, or perhaps because of it, residents suffering from cabin fever and thirsting for human contact, ventured out of their dwellings and made their way to the High House.
The first to arrive were “Black Label” Dick and “Lizard” Liz Mahoney. The two regulars occupied their usual seats but were soon joined by others, with familiar faces and familiar stories.
Bud McKay stamped the snow off his boots as he came up the stairs. He greeted his companions with a common one-liner:
“Cold enough for ya?”
“Keeps the mosquitoes in check”, Dick responded in well-rehearsed Saskatchewaneze.
Winters in Saskatchewan are dry, as are the summers, the fall and some springs. The absence of natural moisture induces people to ingest liquids in prolific quantities. On that specific arid February night, fluids were being replenished in the High House in rapid succession. Bud McKay was particularly thirsty, setting the pace with double rye and Coke.
As the evening progressed, alcohol-influenced chatter was starting to sound like an inebriated choir practice. Tiny, the good-natured bartender, had heard most of the stories but he kept his patrons well lubricated and listened to their babble, as a professional should.
As closing time approached, some patrons had bundled up and ventured out into the night to start frozen vehicles. One or two were in the bathroom and a few more patrons were congregated in the lower lobby waiting for cars to warm up.
Finding himself alone at the table, Bud downed the last of his rye, rose on unsteady legs and pointed his nose where he roughly knew the stairs to be. Bud’s first two steps were a categorical failure, his left foot stood where his right foot should have been, and his body listed dangerously to starboard. With the help of a press-back chair, Bud corrected his angle of attack, stood almost erect and, once again, aimed his flight path at the stairway.
Tiny looked up from counting cash just as Bud reached the banister. He knew Bud was in trouble, but before he could utter a warning, Bud’s body lurched sideways, up ended and disappeared down the stairwell.
The Town Hall bell at the bottom of the stairs rang for the first time in 25 years.
Arcola Hospital is on the far side of town. Fortunately, the far side of town isn’t far, and Bud was under a doctor’s care within minutes of ringing the bell.
Nobody knows for sure what time Bud checked himself out of the hospital, but when Tiny showed up at the High House the next morning, Bud’s car was gone.
Only the Unknown Soldier witnessed …
… Bud’s Miraculous Recovery.
This is one in a series of stories entitled Tales from Dead Ted’s, a chronicle of fictional events with just a kernel of truth in each. The events could have occurred in and around Arcola in the 1960s and 1970s. Click on the link below for more stories about growing up on the Canadian prairie.
wellwaterblog.ca – tales from dead ted’s
Nephew Scott
I would have put all my 11 quarters on the last line of this being.
Bud isn’t familiar to all in the sleepy town of Arcola….but his face rings a bell.
GG
Loving the Dead Ted sagas.
Russ Paton
Thank you, they have been a lifetime in the making.